#(in which you are absolutely fleecing him) because if you look to his right his eldest daughter is very clearly mouthing 'i am going to

[archersgoon]

actually in regards to what i was talking about the other day in regards to isaboe being the world's most intense seven year old i have been thinking and i do suspect all the royal children were like that in some way. because they go on and on about how balthazar was like soft or whatever/not necessarily suited for ruling compared to his elder sisters due to his temperament. but he made an escape trapped a wolf lured an assassin then got himself and the assassin torn to bits by a wolf to protect his sister. at nine. like the same dedication to necessity is very much there no matter what

although this assumption does add another layer to the ?mythologising? i guess. of the older princesses. like such is the nature of these things but how well are they really remembered as themselves rather than the idealised forms they may have taken on to people given the nature of their deaths. not that i think anything said in-text was untrue like i think everything that was said was meant. moreso that it may have been somewhat limited

[freezingmcxn]

hey.. how you doing.. can you maybe make a lil thingy about toby like you did with the eyeless jack thing I'm just really focused on Toby right know idk why but like write it however you want I just want to see your writing on how you rhing he looks and acts take your time you dont even have to do it I love you I love you i love you I love you I love you I love you I lovw you

TOBY ROGERS APPEARANCE (AU)

AHH YES I CAN my motivation is so bad but these always make me really happy and are easy to write so OFC ILY!!

Toby’s hair is a pale, sun-bleached brown, almost blonde, falling to his neck and curling around his ears.

Naturally curly, his hair has become dry and unkempt from bathing in river water and using cheap soap. His curls puff out, lacking any defined shape.

Occasionally, in a fit of frustration, he shaves it all off or trims it, often in a dingy ass gas station bathroom, depending on how much he despises it at the time.

Standing around 5’7” (5’8” in boots), Toby’s constant slouching makes him look as if he might topple over at any moment.

His most noticeable feature is the gash on his mouth, though it’s not as large as one might think.

The wound is just big enough to expose his upper teeth, which are rotted and decayed. Despite its size, the injury reeks of infection, with pus occasionally oozing from the diseased tissue.

Toby often picks at it, making the wound larger over time.

Originally, it was a small bite he inflicted on himself, but his constant fiddling turned it into the gaping wound it is now.

He no longer bites at it, disgusted by the taste of his own decaying flesh. He usually covers it with a large plaster—often supplied by Jack or just lets the air hit it, depending on his mood really.

Toby has a small gold hoop earring in his left ear, a relic from a day when he and Lyra decided to pierce it with a needle. He didn’t feel the pain but kept the earring all these years, occasionally fiddling with it as a reminder of her.

His trusty hatchets dangle from a hardware belt around his waist, always clattering when he moves, a sound he makes sure to emphasise because he knows it irritates people.

The hatchets are mismatched, one is large with a dark oak handle, carved with doodles, while the other is smaller, with a plastic handle, but much sharper—often the one he uses for the first hit.

Both handles are wrapped in duct tape, one of his go-to solutions for everything.

Toby’s skin is sallow, marked by long exposure to the sun. Freckles and moles speckle his body.

His hands are scarred and battered, with half of his left pinky finger missing, and his right hand covered in self-inflicted bite marks. His palms are calloused, his nails ragged—some bruised black, others completely gone.

His teeth are a mess—sharp, chipped, and broken, with gaps where some have been knocked out from fights or lost to decay.

Toby doesn’t bother brushing his teeth, as he often forgets or simply doesn’t care. Eating people doesn’t help either, wrecking his teeth further.

He typically wears the same tattered hoodie for as long as he can stand it, only washing it at a laundromat when absolutely necessary (when it’s bloody and stinky).

He also has an old Joy Division t-shirt layered over a white long-sleeve, both full of holes, though Toby doesn’t mind, he wears it on warmer days.

He’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for five years, patching them up whenever needed—he’s surprisingly good at sewing thanks to Lyra.

On his feet are either old Timberland boots, once his father’s, now worn with a hole in the sole, or a beat-up pair of red Converse, duct-taped at the top.

He alternates between them.

Toby owns a fleece jacket, fingerless gloves, and two beanies—one grey and one black.

The black one is torn and faded, but he likes the way it adds to his look.

He carries everything in a worn blue Jansport backpack he once stole from a kid at a bus stop, where he rams all his clothes and supplies.

I think that’s enough 😭😭 I rambled I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say too much because I fear he won’t be as interesting but yeah! Hope you like him :)

[clearcloudlesssky]

GOD I NEED SOMEONE WHOS READ CRIME&PUNISHMENT AND PERFUME TO TALK TO ME

especially about raskolnikov vs grenouille like there's so many comparisons to make and i'm not eloquent enough to spit all of them out

like from the very beginning of c&p raskolnikov is almost uncomfortably human? he tries his best to isolate himself and alienate himself but in the end he's dragged back by a sense of humanity (via sonia?) and that's what redeems him

but on the other hand grenouille is characterized by his inhumanity, from the very beginning he feels anything but, even when he mingles with others (the scene where he goes into town wearing his 'human' scent for the first time) he feels like a wolf in sheeps clothing, and the fleece he's wearing only makes him look more wolfish

OK ONE OF THE BIGGEST THINGS: raskolnikov is obsessed with the idea of the extraordinary man, the superman, the napoleon. he commits the murder to find out if he is one of those supermen, and when confronted by the evidence that he isn't and probably will never be, his pride prevents him from acknowledging it.

whereas raskolnikov seeks a napoleon or a superman, grenouille almost unconsciously becomes/is one. where raskolnikov must actively seek to challenge and test his theory, grenouille carries it out with essentially no remorse, constantly (unknowingly and uncaringly) taking advantage of the law with absolutely no punishment or repercussion, and eventually becoming the said "napoleon" that raskolnikov may have hoped to become

imo raskolnikov is a man who hoped to become a napoleon, but was redeemed by the fact and realization that he was not. grenouille was a man not even aware of said 'napoleon', but became one of his own admission, transgressing the law as raskolnikov stated that he would have had the right to do, and creating a sense of godliness and greatness. BUT he also proves that raskolnikov's extraordinary man isn't really something to pursue, he feels nothing when he openly becomes a conquerer, rather that is the point where he feels the most empty. i think that that sort of idea is also shown in c&p? raskolnikov almost destroys himself in his pursuit of the extraordinary man, and grenouille shows that the extraordinary man is not such an extraordinary after all. i'm unsure about the thoughts here though haha. i want to come up with some binding statement, but i feel like saying "extraordinary man bad" isn't a good expression of my thoughts (there's also raskolnikov's dream at the end of the novel which connects to the topic but i don't wanna talk about what i've mostly forgotten)

so moving forward

raskolnikov's reasons for murdering alyona ivanovna were totally rational. the reasoning "she was useless/did more harm than good, therefore i can kill her" was coldly logical, and is a awesome representation of how necessary the balance of logic and emotion is (sort of like science? it's a sense of just because you can doesn't mean you should, and the main thing overpowering the "can" is morals and emotion, which combats that cold rationality of the "can")

grenouille's reasons for murdering are very passionate, the first time he kills isn't premeditated at all, he finds a scent he likes, and in a fit of pleasure hunts it down and absorbs it. he's a representative of the opposite end of the spectrum. where raskolnikov represents the evildoing of relying solely on logic, grenouille is the wickedness of only following your emotion, which can definitely also be harmful, maybe even more so

when raskolnikov commits his murder, he's totally overcome by a near masochistic need for redemption (or you can just say he becomes more unhinged/mentally unstable than he already was)

when grenouille kills for the first time he has no such feelings or thoughts, it just happens and he all but forgets about it, and even goes on to repeat the action. he shows absolutely no remorse and given the chance he's definitely kill the first girl again (raskolnikov would not. i'm sort of of the opinion he doesn't feel guilt for killing alyona herself, but he feels remorse for the crime in general and probably lizaveta idk i'll talk about it later maybe)

Raskolnikov's sense of humanity and togetherness? is brought back into him via Sonia&co, and basically the majority of the book is his punishment/start of regeneration. Grenouille is alone from the very beginning, he has absolutely no one and he never gets that redemption. (i loved the ending of perfume so much)

there's a little bit more in my head and this was super scattered and random but i can't persuade anyone else ik to read both of these and talk to me about it and my english teacher scares me so this is the best i can do - please feel free to debate me or say more!!

[delopsia]

I remember the picture of Rhett’s room with all the blankets and you just posted that he would bring a lot of plaid blankets with him which makes me wonder, is he a blanket hoarder? He steals all the blankets, the ones draped across the couch usually ends us wrapped around him. Does he build a blanket fort with us? Does he pick up a new blanket from his quick grocery run that he needed to have?

You have no idea how perfect the timing of this is. Right before you sent this, I was looking at that picture 😭 Rhett is absolutely a blanket hoarder!

He started doing it when he was little because Perry would take all of them from the closet when it started getting colder, and Wyoming nights are brutal when the heating is going out, and your house has poor insulation. He'd start darting around the house, shoving them into the corners of his closet and snuggling up when it got cold out.

Now he just attracts to them out of habit, when did he pick up your favorite blanket from the couch? He hasn't the slightest clue, but he's been snuggled up with it for an hour now. But it's not a house-only sort of thing.

He buys so many blankets.

Every color, pattern, holiday, and season. Fleece, cotton, wool, knit, sherpa, plush, quilt, electric, weighted, odd shapes and patterns. It's gotten a little bit ridiculous at this point. Every time he goes shopping alone, he's pretty much guaranteed to return with one that you somehow don't own yet. As of right now, his favorite blanket is a giant pink and white cow print that you gifted him for his birthday. It was supposed to be black and white, but they mistakenly shipped pink, and Rhett absolutely adored it.

He loves to make nests out of the smaller ones, these little round amalgamations of clashing blankets that could very well serve as an extra bed, while he reserves the oversized blankets to go overtop chairs and the sides of the couch. He doesn't just make a blanket fort; it's a whole damn palace 🤍 But do not be fooled; he absolutely notices if one goes missing.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I've got a head canon going on for Ev Blakely to share and who better to share it with but the Chief Organizer of the Naughty Sleepover?

Let's face it, the man is a tall, cool drink of water, but he's married and faithful...well, except when it comes to his own hands...

Picture him leaning up against the back wall of one of those Nissin huts late at night when he thinks no one's looking -- head tilted back, eyes closed, fleece jacket unzipped, fly undone...that long, lean body with that long, lean cock, one hand cupping his balls, the other pulling his shaft in long, shuddering strokes...he's trying so hard to keep his breath under control so nobody hears...

Pardon me while I take a few deep breaths myself...and by all means, feel free to join in this particular cock-versation...

The way I just, like, rolled onto my back like a dog hoping for belly scratches while reading this!?! Weird, concerning, but also a very valid display on my part of docile submission that the absolutely un-presuming force of Ev Blakely elicits.

I kid you not, dear Anon, I had a mild moment of panic when Douglass was requested for Cock-versations in my sleepover because where one is the other is surely near and yet??? I didn’t have it in me to have a whole essay on this man. Something about him deters me out of sheer respect and insecurity. Which is hot, and foreign for a scrappy gal like me.

The rest of these legends? I can take them -not in a fight. But I’d try a fight, too.

Everett Blakely?

Fuck he’s just too cool and the swag is not a front or a coping mechanism - it’s his essence and his scarves are somehow better than Gale’s and he’s didn’t get shot down by the end of the series -what BIGGER dick energy could we require?

Also- fuck!!!! how valid you are that this man gets off under the stars?!. None of that teenage shower shit for him, smelling of soap and damp and ten different masculine aftershaves with a hint of something else that should’ve been washed away down the drain and yet lingers. What a place to tug one out to. What’s there to remind him of Margaret?

The stars though? Now, Venus’ far off twinkle, that spurs thoughts of the gleam in his wife’s eye when she gets an idea and oh -how very much this man likes his wife’s ideas.

You’re just so right, this man wants a thing? -he takes it and orchestrates the having of it to his liking, universal forces bend to him, not the other way around and honestly that makes me throb in appreciation.

But he’s also fun?! What a combo!!!

He also gives very strong “use your words, honey pie” vibes, maybe it’s all the riddles or the gentle authority figure energy but that’s just what I’m getting from him: and that’s very essential as you are likely to go quite dumb and silent around him and that gorgeous, lanky cock and those endless dark eyes.

The faithfulness aspect?! SO HOT. Not in a home wrecking urge sorta way, oh ho no. Rather -I wanna be Margaret so bad it makes me look stupid and I’m ok with it.

If you’ve got any further thoughts -if any of y’all do on any of them!! this is a sleepover the swapping should be both ways!!- hit me up with them.

Again, legit rolled around in impotent need reading this, Nonnie, I’m so flattered you’d submit it to my box.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 35

It's 1941! The Second World War is now underway, and we, lucky things that we are, get the glory that is Christopher Ecclestone's Doctor back as we reach the Empty Child.

Incidentally, if you were a young Welsh adult in 2005, this episode absolutely blew your tits clean off even more effectively than Margaret's email. We held WATCH PARTIES for the second part. This was THE story we all went feral for, and it is fascinating revisiting it now, almost two decades later, as part of this incredibly pig-stupid watch order. It looks so dated! Everyone is so young! Richard Wilson has a role for a single scene and completely steals not just the show but the entire fucking series! That hospital is the Old Infirmary in Cardiff! Those train station steps are at Cathays! I'm having THE BEST time

Okay anyway

So this is the first of a two-parter - the Doctor and Rose chase a spaceship that's on Mauve Alert (aliens consider Red Alert to be camp, apparently) through the time stream to land in London, 1941, except they land a month behind it. On landing, the Doctor meets Nancy, a homeless woman who spends her time breaking into people's houses while the air raids are going and stealing food for a horde of adorable homeless urchins, except they're all being menaced by the titular Empty Child, who it emerges is a creepy gas mask zombie that used to be Nancy's brother - until a month ago.

It follows them and has Bluetooth. Likes asking if they're its mam. Connects with phones. There's a fun bit where it makes the TARDIS phone ring, which reactivated an 18 year old memory in me of me fucking GASPING at the time.

Eventually the Doctor makes it to the bomb site. The Old Infirmary I'm sorry a definitely real London hospital is nearby, and Richard Wilson is playing a Doctor inside (some SUPER FUN bits where Nancy says "You need to meet the Doctor" and we're all like "Whoa, another Doctor, say what -" look this episode BLEW OUR TITS CLEAN OFF, okay, it's so atmospheric and mysterious). He's the only one still alive - the wards are filled with rows and rows of people, gas masked like the Empty Child, and equally empty. This is where Nancy's brother was first brought, we're told; and the next day, everyone who touched him became like him. Within the week, so were all the patients. They now all have the exact same injuries, and they lie dormant, like creepy zombies.

It happens to Richard Wilson right in front of us and it's so, so creepy. Fuck me this is a good episode. Like I know, I know, it's a Moffat one, and I'm not going to pretend there aren't the occasional troublesome bit, but the fact is that the man does his best work when he has a talented editor who tells him no and takes the pen out of his hands before he wrecks his own stories. Moffat-edited-by-RTD produces some great stuff, and this is one. Yeah I said it. AND I'D SAY IT AGAIN)

MEANWHILE Rose immediately wandered off after landing ("Just once," the Doctor mournfully tells a random street cat he sees and instantly scoops up and cwtches, "I'd like someone who doesn't wander off. 800 years and it's the only thing that would still surprise me"). She decides to climb a random rope up a blimp for no reason other than The Plot Requires It (curse you, Moffat), and then gets rescued...

BY CAPTAIN JACK HARKNESS!!!!!!!!!!!

:D :D :D

We're getting this in order!!!! We haven't met him before!!! But oh, we have had him TEASED to us, haven't we - we know he gives Whittaker a warning to beware the Lone Cyberman, or billions will die. We know he'll "get round" to Me. And now we're meeting him!!!! Fantastic.

He is, too, he's the epitome of Be Gay Do Crimes. He's a conman. Turns out the spaceship they were chasing - which is somehow causing the gas mask people - was sent by Jack, because he thought they were time agents and wanted to fleece them. It's an ambulance! Though he made sure it was empty, so no clue yet how Bluetooth gas mask zombies are the result. Rose spends the majority of this episode absolutely horny on main for this guy; I mean it's very, you know, Moffatt writing, but also Jack is very fun and sexy so fair enough, girl, he's a sure thing and you got needs you chase that dick. He saves her from falling to her death, too, so that's fun.

Anyway the episode ends on a big cliffhanger. Nancy is found by her empty zombie brother, who corners her in a house and is asking her if she's his mummy. It wakes up all the zombies in the hospital, though, so they start menacing the Doctor, Rose and Jack. There were seventeen of us packed into a tiny student flat to watch the resolution of that, back in 2005. I sat on a cushion on the floor. I am very nostalgic.

Other things hinted at: the Doctor lost a son and a grandson, and knows what it's like to be the only child out in the cold. And Mickey is only Rose's sort of boyfriend, whatever that means. Not many new plot threads - only the cliffhanger really, but we'll be watching that immediately (waiting a week in 2005 was AGONY). But! We can remove the one asking who is Captain Jack Harkness! Fun fun fun.

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy. NEW INFO: she is definitely not blown up)

The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?)

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?

How did Nardole die?

When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years?

How does the Doctor survive River

How does he erase himself from history

[possum-quesadilla]

New ‘Time is a Flat Circle’ chapter is up, which means more details under the cut! The universe set out to kill me before I finished this chapter but it was unsuccessful

Chapter six:

- This chapter’s title is a continuation of the lyrics from the first chapter, which is again from “The Heroine” by Unwoman. Beetlejuice actually has to start facing and feeling all of the emotions and hurt from the loops!

- “She didn’t even get a “I sure hope it does!” To her “Road work ahead?”.” Lydia is, of course, referencing one of my favorite vines here. She forced Beetlejuice to watch a compilation right away so he could understand more of her jokes.

- “It had a strange metal lining she was sure wasn’t there before.” … “Yeah. Iron impedes ghosts. Duh.” This is all based on info that was told to me about an odd door in my great grandmother’s house that was lined with iron. A family member told me it was to keep ghosts out, and that “iron stops ghosts, obviously”.

- “Sweaters from Aunt Kerry” A fun little nod to Barbara’s original actor, Kerry Butler!

- “… as she stepped on something soft, squishy, and uneven,” This was his tail! That’s probably why he yelled so loud.

- Another note: I forgot to point out something that will not really be directly addressed from chapter five! “Adam heard a rythmic thumping noise from the demon that he wasn’t quite sure of the origin of.” This is from BJ’s tail hitting the ground repeatedly, like a cat’s does when it’s angry. I’m sure he’s glad it was too dark for them to see it!

- “Lydia! My best friend, my pal!” And “Lydia, my homeboy, my rotten soldier,” Are a reference to a line from What We Do in the Shadows that I quote way too often.

- “The pair of them stood out like horseshoe crabs in a freshwater environment,” This is a line from my favorite youtube series, Bigtop Burger. Check it out if you like dead little freaks like Beetlejuice.

- “The plain white shirt that said “human babies are mysterious and I don’t trust them” and the bright red long-sleeve that read “God won’t let me die”” Based on real thrifted clothing I’ve seen posted online and really, really want

- “He was even absentmindedly chewing on one of the plastic tags.” Haha, I do that.

- “hammer space” Is honestly a bit more accurate than ‘pocket dimension’, since he uses it mostly for comedic effect.

- Beetlejuice wants to watch Edward Scissorhands because he likes to see movies that make “monsters” sympathetic. He wants to watch The Princess Bride because he wants to see a happy ending.

- “a black leather notebook. She had many like it, and like all the rest, this one was unused. (They’re just too perfect to start using, y’know?).” This is taken straight from what many of my more artistically inclined friends do. The journals are only collecting dust, bestie!! Use them!!

- “Ah. He wants me where he can see me. Probably all screwed up from his mom and stuff.” As my notes so eloquently put it, “WRONG GIRLIE HE HAS PTSD FROM THE STABBING”.

- “He was cut off as Barbara grabbed him by his tie and tugged it to force him to look her in the eye.” Barbara discovered one of his tells for lying! She will exploit it ;)

- “… her Dead Mom could never pick between ‘Annabel Lee’ and ‘The Masque of Red Death’.” These are two of my absolute favorites! They are just so romantically macabre, I sometimes read Annabel Lee out loud to my cat to calm him down. Emily did the same for Lydia!

- “fleece tie blankets she had made for a charity drive. When asked by Beetlejuice why she still had them, she sheepishly replied that she kept forgetting to drop them off until it was too late to do so.” Based on something my favorite elementary school teacher did.

- “but it was perfectly splendid.” This is a reference to The Haunting of Bly Manor. Mike Flanagan’s work greatly influences my writing, so I wanted to put in a little nod to his most amazingly heart-wrenching series. <3

- “She was a sucker for a happy ending.” This is a reference to the Heathers musical, where a character expresses a similar sentiment towards the movie. Shout out to that soundtrack for getting me into musicals in the first place!

- “… he leaned down and bumped his head against Lydia’s shoulder. The impact was hard enough to make her stumble..” I do this quite frequently. I do not mean to knock people off balance, but I usually do! It is the easiest way for me to express affection without having to touch someone with my hands. It is less overwhelming for Beej in that way too!

- “I promise, I’ll do better for you, I’ll be better!” Haha what a fun callback that doesn’t have any implications about Beetlejuice’s mental state

- “I’ve always wanted to make a blood pact!” Me too. But don’t try this at home.

- “I, Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth,” He is only able to say his own name when it’s a part of a pact or contract! That sucks.

[syrips]

thinking about the poll/post (omg i found it!!) asking about if strahd would be a vampire ascendant and i decided to ramble about it along with other random things because dont mind if i do indulge!! hehe

shoutout to @/thecatslug for inspiring me to colorcode my rambles because oh my god i love colors. also sorry the color code might not make sense its just syrips color coded my brain likes it gfdgdfg

ravenloft / bg3 spoilers below:

so, im not sure if the question meant 'would strahd be considered a vampire ascendant' or if it meant 'could strahd become a vampire ascendant', so i decided ill try to answer this: would strahd be considered a vampire ascendant? sorry if this wasnt the original question i just wanted to ramble honestly

before we get into the fancy nitty gritty stuff, let's take a look at the details of four main things apparently i cant count heh, get it, count? anyways im not fixing that four sorry numbers are hard

Vellioth the Martinet

Baldur's Gate's Master Vampire List

The Black Mass Scroll As A Whole

Cazador and Jander (what?)

Strahd

-----

Vellioth the Martinet

so, random fun theory that no one asked but i just wanna ramble it. did you know that 'vellus' means fleece or wool?

just gonna leave this here. unrelated to anything else btw i just wanna ramble it.

random wiki stuff:

"vellus / villus / veillier = fleece, shaggy tuft hair, wool villi = in france, to watch over martinet = wikipedia: 'in English, the term martinet usually refers not to the whip but to those who might use it: those who demand strict adherence to set rules and mete out punishment for failing to follow them.' vellus hair = 'peach fuzz'"

🩸✨💛 random theory no one asked for 💛✨🩸

vellioth has hair with:

color range: peach (fuzz) to wheat blonde

length: medium to long

type/shape/texture: curly to kinky; 'shaggy/woolly sheep' texture

anyways back to the actual stuff.

... hi.

so! the narrator/cazador describe Vellioth as 'ancient', or at least they call his skull ancient? which is very strange to me for two main reasons. Vellioth isn't old. and i know, 'but syrips, you say everyone isn't old because strahd's a big old dusty super elder!.' and yea. hehe youre right. but for now, just remember this - Vellioth was Baldur Gate's Master Vampire from 1204 DR to 1276 DR. this will be important in a moment, not even because of the age, but because what ill describe below.

-----

Baldur's Gate's Master Vampire List

so. one thing that i see thrown around a bit, is that people may assume that the vampire list left by Lady Incognita is based on birth and death or other stuff, but! i will clarify it a bit:

the title of Master Vampire does not mean the previous one's destruction or death. it only means their defeat upon someone else taking the throne. sure, they may occur at the same time, but one can take over without killing the former.

the master vampire list is a self-proclaiming title, and one that others can attempt to contest

each city/point of interest has their own master vampires fighting in their own little territories. we only see those of baldur's gate. not of waterdeep. not of other towns or cities or locations. if you're feeling the vtm clan vibes/drama, then youre absolutely right! cazador penpalling another master vampire to brag about his master vampire status in baldur's gate is both him bragging and him potentially preparing to claim other places once he ascends

the master vampire title gives no actual vampiric, magical, or physical power. it's an entirely a social construct, in the most literal way possible. it provides social influence, social intimidation, etc. but, it's just like putting on a mundane tiara. grats, i guess.. its shiny at least-

anyways, this stuff is mostly put down just to say - nothing about this "Master Vampire" status is about ascension, power, and/or 'special abilities'. it's a moot point/status. which leads to why the master vampires need other ways to gain power.. which is why.. woah! cool transition to-

-----

The Black Mass Scroll As A Whole

if you got this far then thanks for reading. sit up and hydrate because it's time to talk about the black mass and why you need to be in tip top shape for reading this part. ahem:

the black mass scroll is not just one ritual, it is a collection of Vellioth's schooling, a list of rites/rituals, details of soul, divine (good, neutral, and evil) magic, and the methods of manipulation of the soul, divinity, and magic.

tl;dr - the black mass scroll is a list of lists. a collection of collections. the black mass scroll is.. an archive!

one could say it is massive. heh. anyways yea, the mass is a double meaning - a mass in the ritual sense, but also the meaning of 'a bunch of somethings.'

why is this important though? well. because this black mass has 'all the ways death can be turned to one's advantage or made more interesting', such as 'The Rite of Perfect Slaughter' and the 'Rite of Profane Ascension.'

so, let's talk about the Rite of Perfect Slaughter, which is actually fairly easy - Cazador killed Vellioth in the Rite of Perfect Slaughter. yet, Vellioth, who should be 'dead,' is recalling this. we should note, both of these people are undead. and undead death doesnt always work in the same way as complete removal/destruction. literally look at the other undead/'dead' in bg3 itself. look at those who 'died' in ravenloft. yet, some return, despite being 'killed' in the human perceived way.

either way, all we can confirm, based on this Rite of Perfect Slaughter, is that it removed Vellioth's authority/status as a Master Vampire. that is literally all the information we have right now. anything else is speculation, theory, or even deception by an undead or someone affiliated. which makes me wonder, who came up and formed that name, the "Rite of Perfect Slaughter"? cazador and vellioth both have a distorted view of what 'perfection' means, and we've seen cazador lie/hide information that will work against him. and also, Vellioth was laughing as cazador did the Rite on Vellioth. why didnt cazador and astarion laugh together when astarion performed the Rite of Ascension? because cazador didnt want the rite used on him. i guess the point of all of this is, who originally discovered or created the Rite of Perfect Slaughter? because, we dont know! for all we know, Vellioth couldve wanted to be 'killed' to give his soul to someone else, to preserve his vampirism/unlife or something. afterall, the black mass has 'all the ways death can be turned to one's advantage.' it doesnt say by who benefits from it. but anyways. the origin isnt really relevant for this, i just wanted to point out that these Rites are all a various and mixed collection of times, rituals, affiliations, and intentions - most that we dont even know fully, if at all of who benefits from it. and, considering we dont even know what some mean, or who made them, the original people who discovered them may not even be Cazador or Vellioth.

why? or how?

because, the line Astarion says when he picks up the Black Mass Scroll: "[Cazador] stole everything, even [Vellioth's] precious rules."

it doesnt matter who made the rites, rituals, weird strange description/stuff. all that matters is that Cazador has the entire bundle of stuff that is from previous vampires and creatures. and, the symbolism that Astarion picks it up and takes it, means the collection of potential power - of The Black Mass Scroll - Astarion is the current inheritor of potential power.

-----

Cazador and Jander (what?)

now, reader. you might be like. 'syrips, what does this have to do with if Strahd is considered a vampire ascendant? why is jander being brought in here?? im so confused, just answer the question about strahd!' well, too bad! you gotta wait! into the sealed tomb with leo dilisnya you go!

anyways! what we learned so far (as well as random rambling cuz why not):

cazador literally takes things that aren't his

cazador learned this from 'ancient' vellioth

Vellioth become a master vampire at 1204 DR of baldur's gate

Cazador became one at 1276 DR of baldur's gate

but! let's take a quick look and compare this to our beloved Jander Sunstar's lore:

they are incredibly weak when compared to an already existing Jander and strahd, as Anna has existed on the sword coast beginning around 970 DR

not only does time work differently in barovia, but in Toril / DR time, strahd already exists at this point as The Vampire. he is already the ruler of barovia, as well as the center of attention in the domains of dread

time isnt really important here, but its worth noting this because of Jander. not only did he kill his vampire master (which can be considered a 'vampiric ascension,' as you break the chains and limits of your master and are now free to grow in vampiric abilities), but he literally wielded an ancient and holy relic that vellioth and cazador could not even imagine to do.

and, not only did Jander do that, but he challenged the cause of vampirism and was brought by the mists into barovia. he was a candidate to challenge the master, founder, and origin of vampirism - strahd. Jander had the potential to ascend. to break free from the true master and curse, of The Vampire.

anyways, jander (and astarion) is a great reference character for vampire ability when comparing vellioth and cazador to jander/strahd.

but yea. tl;dr - jander makes vellioth and cazador look really pathetic. like baby levels pathetic. vampire ascension is about going 'backwards/upwards' on the vampiric bloodline tree, gaining your agency back so that you can climb up the ranks to more 'potent/ancient' generations. basically, it's about being free to go as far/deep as you can attempt. ascension is not about 'the removal of weaknesses', it's about 'the reduction of vampiric inferiority'. and, being unable to be in the sun is not of inferiority. they can go in the sun, but it will hurt. what one cannot do without suffering, teamwork, pacts, and/or luck, however, is breaking their seal on the master they're forced to be inferior to. even in the cazador fight, the only thing that saved astarion was literally the tadpole helping to reduce his inferiority with cazador. on a side note, vellioth laughing at cazador during the rite of perfect slaughter makes me believe that vellioth benefitted and only caused cazador to descend deeper, instead of ascend.

anyways. back to cazador. the only way that he can reduce the vampiric inferiority (as well as ascend himself) is for him to confront more and more ancient vampires, you know. like what jander attempted. but, cazador doesnt want to do that. instead, he works with an archdevil to attempt a cheap temporary bandaid/loophole around the wrong problem. instead of focusing on his own inferiority complex heh pun intended, he focuses on how to get a tan and how to be less thirsty..? like. what? either he has no idea what hes doing, or he believes removing all weaknesses and flaws will make him a more perfect vampire. what a silly head.

anyways. the rite of 'ascension.'

yea, let's go into that!

what is the Rite of Ascension??

here you go, reader!

---

🎇🩸🏹 The Rite of Profane Ascension 🏹🩸🎇

Oh, piteous dead! Oh, ravenous dead!

syrips translator: oh pathetic hungry un/dead people!

Immortality is your gift, but darkness is your prison and hunger its gaoler.

syrips translator: you can't be out in the (sun)light, and your hunger imprisons you because youre in denial of how to manage your vampirism.

The Rite of Profane Ascension will release you. Walk in the sun. Suffer not from hunger. Grow your power beyond anything you imagined.

syrips translator: with just 7 payments of 999.99 souls, you too can remove the ailments of sun allergies and midnight cravings! call now to receive your 'ascension' kit!

A pact has been made with the Lord of Hellfire. Deliver unto him seven thousand souls, each bearing an Infernal mark, and you shall be free of your chains. You shall know true power.

syrips translator: -fast disclaimer speak- your sun and anti-hunger status is not actually included or garaunteed. you are agreeing to the terms and conditions that you are only receiving the kit to build and perform the sun and anti-hunger ritual. 'free of your chains' is only used to describe the 'chains of darkness and hunger' and nothing else. purchase not necessary to be 'ascended.' call now and begin your journey!!

Deliver the souls.

syrips translator: i really dont care who gives me the souls. just gimmy. thanks

Speak the words.

syrips translator: okay the actual pact is below. everything else was just to hype you up and was just the advertisement, hehe! anyways. anyone who says the ritual below with the right components is all i care about. because the stuff below is the actual trade. and no, you didnt get scammed. this isn't a vampire ascension, it's just an advertisement targetted towards a vampiric audience. you read the terms and conditions correctly, right? silly guy.

Ecce dominus,

syrips translator: "(google translate) Behold, the Lord" / 'uhh hi -opens trade window-'

Has animas offero in sacrificio,

syrips translator: "(google translate) I offer these souls in sacrifice," / -puts 7k stack of souls in trade window- 'here's the actual trade that you wanted -presses confirm trade-'

Nunc volo potestatem quam pollicitus es mihi.

syrips translator: "(google translate) Now I want the power you promised me." / -presses accept- so this trade goes against the ToS but.. youll give me the power i asked for, right?... oh thank god i was so afraid. illegal ingame-to-irl-currency trades are so scary.. thank god, or thank meph in this case haha get it- oh okay im leaving.. s-sorry.. thanks..-

-----

Strahd

wooo hooo! we made it back to the original question!! we did it!!

now, lettuce answer this question that we we've been waiting on for so long. i dont want to leaf you hanging.

would strahd be considered a vampire ascendant?

big drum roll! bhrrrbhrbrhbhrr!!

-cough-

..

no.

...

-leaves-

-returns-

okay so. why isnt strahd considered a vampy ascendant?

well, before we talk about that. let's consider what a 'vampire ascendant' is considered, by Vellioth, Cazador, and the Rite of Profane Ascension's terms:

an 'ascended vampire' is just one who has the ailments of sunlight and hunger removed by the process of this specific ritual. remember that line i said of a Master Vampire being a moot point? well.. to burst the blood bubble, the "Ascended Vampire" line isnt a literal 'vampire ascension'. it's also a moot point, in its own way. but not as mooty, it's more of like a half-truth. like something an archdevil would do to tempt someone into doing something for a small dose of infernal - not raw vampiric - power in return. take note that nowhere in the actual ritual lines does it talk about ascension, let alone vampiric ascension. all it talks about is to say the words 'you made a promise.. i hope you keep it..pls gimmy Infernal powers..'

you know how raphael is making a deal with you and how off it feels? that's because youre not ascending when he mutes your tadpole. he's just using his abilities to manipulate/mold something in you with his powers. that's how this ritual also is. it's just a half-truth, unempathetic advertisement, masked as a pact so that the one who does it feels satisfied, despite the archdevil just receiving much more power than the one who sacrificed all the souls.

but, let's say this ritual is legitimate, and one does 'ascend' by the archdevil's abilities to remove the ailments. so, they are technically 'rising,' in a way. they are becoming a 'stronger infernal-gifted vampire' because of less weaknesses. but, what are they trying to ascend to? what is the purpose of removing all of these weaknesses? why go through all of this?

because. they hunger. they want power. they want true immortality. they want to remove all weaknesses in mortal life and immortal unlife to have free agency, without inferiority to anything. they want to be able to transcend time, space, and death, to be on a level of the highest peak of vampirism.

and, of course. who would that be? who would be the most ancient, powerful vampire, cursed and imprisoned by their own success in achieving what other vampires can only dream of?

who was imprisoned not from failure, but from succeeding too well that something else had to intervene?

anyways, as much as i love stroking strahd's ego LOl i keep going tho, his novel-canon potential is severely higher than the CoS potential. but, through all the modules, novels, and other media, it's still heavily implied that strahd's major weakness is tatyana. if he had tatyana, or felt he was losing the chance to pursue her, if he lost this weakness, he would unironically be scarily unstoppable. the only thing stopping strahd from being a huge dictator or even more power-hungry tyrant is literally because of his obsession/'curse' with wanting to have a bae. which i find very hilarious but focus syrips that part isnt the point-

anyways. tl;dr - strahd has nothing to ascend to. he has no vampire that he's inferior to. if anything, he wants to descend. he wants to be 'less' of what he is now, to be with tatyana. or, to ascend tatyana to his vampiric level. it's his entire curse. and, because of this, he also cannot descend. if he does, he will either lose himself, or he will lose tatyana. and he will not dare to risk that.

he also has nothing that he has or can ascend from. he is the 'original'. at most, he just ascended from 'himself.' but, that's not really an ascension more than just a transition. (and, moving from the material plane to the domains of dread kind of shows that he's not really ascending/rising, more than he's just moving into a warped/slanted plane that operates differently in time and space.) and, unlike in the Rite of Profane Ascension, strahd used himself (and everything affiliated to him) as both the component and result, because no other method existed. he is the origin and reason that rites/methods to 'becoming a more powerful vampire' even exist. he's the reason that vampires exist. when strahd says he's the ancient and land, he's not just saying it for the cool monologue phrase even though we all know he totally enjoys saying it everytime. he's also bluntly saying, 'i am the ancient because i, with barovia, transcend time. i am the land because i, with barovia, connect with the domains of dread. and, the domains of dread, connects with all planes. i am beyond 'a vampire.' i, strahd, am the concept and definition of the vampire.'

everything that all vampires do, by definition, are mock versions, mock attempts, and mock methods that strahd has already mastered, influenced others to do, or that he has knowledge/creation of. everything all vampires do, is attempting to do what their masters had done. with every new spawn, they start at the bottom, trying to climb to their master's level. and even more rarely, attempting to climb to their master's master's level. but strahd is at the top of the MLM vampire pyramid. he has no master to climb up the ranks to. he's already the CEO, founder, etc. (idk how business works), he can't out-climb himself. -strahd pompous voice- 'ouhhh.. it's so lonely being at the top, ouhhh..' but anyways, he can ascend or assist others, since he's a patron. but most power-hungry vampires wouldnt want to do that, especially because they're probably trying to climb up just to compete or be on strahd's vampiric level. and yet, asking strahd for ascension is incredibly easy - all it would mean is making an eternal pact to always be subservient and inferior to strahd.. he'd gladly ascend you, you'd have the potential to be superior to all other vampires.. the only one above you would be personally him. and.. suddenly, a deal with an archdevil who doesnt care about the pettiness of vampire superiority, kind of sounds safer in comparison now..-

or idk. i could be wrong. just a ramble i had fun doing. hehe ty for reading

references/sauces:

bg3

bg3 wiki

wikipedia

wiktionary

google translate

ravenloft novels/modules/games/media/editions from like everywhere

[bailey-the-narrator]

One Day In The Parable: Narry

Bailey serving coffee to his (potential) paraverse friends; A series

Narry is from @insomniphic, a sequel to this fanart that they made

“Bay, your guest is looking for you!”

Bailey snaps out of the zone of his coffee-making activities, almost flinching, and looks toward the voice behind him. His hand still holds a hot moka pot filled with freshly-brewed coffee. “Oh, good day, sir.” He gives a small smile before slightly tilting his head. “What do you mean by my guest? I don’t recall inviting someone.”

Mr Owner raises one of his eyebrows. “Then, who is he?” He subtly gestures his head at the figure right in front of the cashier. “He said that he wanted to see you because you put The Parable’s location on a thermos that you gave him.”

“Who-” He squints towards the figure, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose to get a clearer image before letting a small yet excited gasp. His eyes sparkle in delight when he recognises who the person is.

That’s the Narrator when he gave his cafe latte to at the gala!

The Narrator looks absolutely charismatic, similar to his gala looks, with his golden eyes seeming to glow behind the square glasses. The waves on his brunette hair are neatly combed back, leaving a few stray strands hanging on his forehead. His casual clothes also looked so comfortable; in his honest opinion, the fluffy blue fleece jacket really fit him. The fidgety movements of the Narrator might be a sign of his nervousness, though. Social anxiety, maybe?

…He hasn’t caught his name yet, though. Should he just call him Narry? 

Bailey puts his moka pot down on the counter before patting down his sweater vest, attempting to neaten the wrinkles on his clothes. He needs to be at least presentable to his potential friend, after all. He glances at the Mr. Owner, and the other gives a thumbs up, signing that he’s allowed to leave his station. 

“Wait- Hi!” Bailey is too hyper to contain his excitement, running towards the cashier machine and earning Narry’s attention. The Narrator’s eyes widen slightly, probably relieved to meet him. “Sorry, I was handling orders behind. How can I help you?”

Narry lets out a huff before smiling. “I wanted to return your thermos, actually.” He pulls out his thermos from nowhere, giving it to him. “And can I order your hot cafe latte to go? Stanley likes it so much.”

A Narrator type that couldn’t consume food items? He gives a slight shrug. “Your coffee is free and I can store your order back in the thermos. I gave it to you, the container included.” The writer smiles, accepting the metallic drink container. “My sister paid for all of the thermoses, anyway. She doesn’t mind.”

He can see the Narrator let out a chuckle. “You’re paying for my coffee? How kind of you.”

“My friends shouldn’t pay for my coffee; that’s my motto.” Bailey’s answer is straightforward. Coffee is something special, and he wanted his friends to enjoy it as much as he was enjoying the process of brewing them. “You need to wait for ten minutes, though. You can sit in the public area,” The writer looks at the main guest area. It’s slightly crowded, not ideal for someone with social anxiety. “Or would you want me to show you a more private space to stay? It’s quieter and have less patrons.”

The writer can see it. How the Narrator’s face seems to brighten. “The latter, if you don’t mind?” He asks almost immediately, which makes Bailey nods before getting out from behind the counter and giving a slight wave to Narry, gesturing him to follow him.

As they both walk together side by side, Bailey looks at the other, gasping quietly at how tall Narry is. His 5’8” tall frame doesn’t even compare to the massive height gap between the two of them. 6 feet? Probably more than that! 

He does feel smaller than most Narrators out there already. But he doesn’t mind it, though. Friendship knows no bounds, including height. 

The private space is located behind the kitchen, with the room temperature lowered to a comfortable coolness to the skin. The lights are dimmed, and the music playing there has a much lower volume. Only a couple of people sit there, each currently wearing headphones while doing their work on their own. The Owner made this space with neurodivergent customers in mind, who have sensitivity to noises, hot temperatures, or light.

“Welcome to Quiet Zone, place where you can be alone in your thoughts.” Bailey adores this space. The environment keeps him calm while writing his stories. “I hope you like this space as much as I did.”

The growing smile on Narry’s face and the colourful lights slowly fading into existence around him shows the answer.

In no time, Narry scores a seat right at the corner of the room, sitting down while letting out a small oof before pulling out a…drawing tablet? Is that an actual drawing tablet?? There’s a glimmer of excitement again in Bailey’s eyes. What’s he currently drawing? Can he see his progress? Can he commission him? He wanted to support his fellow friend!

The curiosity almost got to him, but he managed to hold himself down this time. “I’ll be back with your order, alright?” He gives a warm smile, and the Narrator nods, busying himself with his tablet.

Alright. Service first, talk later. Bailey cracks his knuckles. It’s his time to shine.

Coming back to his coffee station feels like walking back to his apartment. It feels like home for him. His confidence has increased tenfold now that he’s in the area of his expertise. Hopefully, he’ll be able to make something that impresses Narry’s Stanley.

Cafe Latte. Espresso with steamed milk. The simplicity of this coffee is somehow becoming a worldwide’s favourite. The creaminess of the milk reduces the bitterness of the coffee, turning the dark colour into lighter brown. It can be drunk as it is, but people often add sweeteners to it to balance the taste. The last cafe latte he gave Narry has caramelised palm sugar as a sweetener, giving a slightly smokey flavour, yet not overwhelmingly sweet as cane sugar. It’s perfect for coffee drinkers who still want to savour the complexity of coffee but don’t want to suffer through the harsh, bitter taste of the beverage.

Coffee first. Moka pot is his go-to coffee maker beside his V60 coffee drip and gooseneck kettle pair. He doesn’t fully trust those noisy espresso machines; they might heat the heat-sensitive coffee grounds to degrees celsius far higher than what he’d like. It gives a taste similar to espresso but not as strong. Italians even use this contraption for traditional cafe lattes since it’s more accessible than the bulky espresso machine in many cafes. 

Put the freshly-ground coffee into the funnel filter with the ratio of arabica and robusta on 30:70, adding a sprinkle of salt to add depths of flavour. Add boiling water into the water chamber, filling it right below the water valve. Put the funnel into the water chamber and screw the upper part of the moka pot shut tight before putting it on low heat.

While waiting, he needs to whip up the steamed milk. Add a few spoonfuls of his homemade caramelised palm sugar syrup and evaporated milk into a small jug and gently steam it in the milk steamer, watching it frothing up with microbubbles from the pressurised steam.

The aroma of freshly-brewed coffee fills his workstation, a sign that the coffee is nearing done. He quickly puts down his milk jug and grabs the thermos Narry has given to him. Carefully, he pours the piping hot coffee into the thermos, then slowly pours the steamed milk. Bailey loves the aroma already.

Screwing the thermos lid tight, the writer walks out of his station to deliver the thermos back to the Narrator personally, leaving the station back in the hands of his co-workers and speedwalking his way to Quiet Zone to check on him. As expected, Narry still calmly sits down at his original seat position, gently swinging his legs to match the beat of the current song playing as he holds his tablet pen with his gloved hands and seeming to draw on his tablet.

“I’m back with your order. Thank you for waiting.” And colourful dim lights appear again around the Narrator, who gives a small smile towards him. A slightly audible thunk can be heard as Bailey gently puts down the thermos right on the table, eyes hovering at the screen before looking away, face flush red in embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t look without permission.”

Narry laughs, it’s a very light one. “It’s okay, you can watch me draw.” He scoots over, giving Bailey enough space to sit beside him. “Do be careful, I’m sensitive to touches.” He adds, and the writer gives a small nod as he sits beside the Narrator, still giving the other enough space to more without touching each other.

There they are, both quietly sitting together, watching as Narry sketches on his device while rambling about what happens in his Parable. Bailey quietly listens to him. Is this what friendship feels like? It feels so…peaceful.

And so, Bailey is happy for today.

――――――――――――――――――――

BONUS:

“Maybe we could get our Stanleys to meet!” Narry suddenly talks, breaking the silence between them. He gestures at his screen, a small sketch of a man displayed there. “This one is mine. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet your Stanley.”

Bailey’s face darkens. “You don’t want to meet him. I swear you don’t want to.” He shakes his head hard. “He’s a pain. I swear.”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad-”

“[Stanley scoffs upon hearing his Narrator’s insult about him. “I WILL BITE YOU!!” He screams out loud, his voice echoes around the empty office that he’s in. “I WILL BE YOUR PAIN. STOP TALKING NONSENSE ABOUT ME-”]”

Narry yelps at the sudden robotic AI-like voice that appears out of nowhere, looking around the Quiet Zone. “Wha..” His surprised expression made him chuckle. “Who said that…”

Giving him an amused smile, Bailey pulls out his phone and shows the screen to Narry.

“My Stanley is a literal GoogleDocs and he’s a dramatic one.”

“What the fuck.”

[nobedofroses]

December 4

pairing: Marcus Moreno x reader

warnings: fluff city with a tiny bit of spice at the end, no actual smut tho

words: 1k

a/n: new family! using one of the bonus pics because it was perfect for them!

Last, Full List, Next

🏔🏔🏔

This year was your first Christmas as Missy’s stepmom, and you wanted to make sure that all three of you (including Marcus) felt good about it. This was possibly an impossible task, but you were an ambitious person, and you knew it didn’t have to be perfect to be great. 

An idea that you had to make the entire holiday season fun was to start celebrating in little ways throughout the whole month. And since you and Missy shared a love of comfy, cozy things, you decided to create an advent calendar for all three of you (Marcus also loved comfy, cozy things he just never thought to get them for himself) that would start your Christmas season off right. 

The first gift was a mug painting kit, so that each of you would have a personalized mug for all your hot drinks that season. Missy had the idea that you should make them for each other, so she made yours, you made Marcus’ and Marcus made hers. You might have gotten a little misty that night when you saw all the love and care Missy so obviously put into painting yours. 

The next day included everything needed to make gourmet hot chocolate, to have in your mugs, of course. And there was enough for supplies so that you could have it every day if you wanted. Marcus asked how much all the fancy chocolate had cost and you stuck a piece of one of the chocolate bars in his mouth to quiet him, which Missy agreed was absolutely the right thing to do. 

Day three were matching fleece blankets with your initials embroidered in the corners. You used them to watch some of the old claymation Christmas shows to stay warm on the couch. Missy insisted that you sat in the middle between her and Marcus. This was because, “Dad always falls asleep and snores super loud, right in my ear. He’s your husband now, so you should get used to that.” 

Today was the fourth day and the start of a series of connected gifts. You had gotten full matching pajama sets for the three of you, but had to break them up into three days because towards the end of the month you had started running out of ideas. Starting from the bottom, today’s gifts were slippers, and you just knew that Missy would love them.

And you were right, “Oh. My. Gosh. Look at them! They’re little Rudolphs, that is so cute!” 

She held them up for Marcus to see and he looked on happily, “Oh yeah, their red noses.” 

You chuckled at his statement of the obvious and then pulled yours out of the paper gift bag you had been storing your part of the gifts. Marcus and Missy got theirs fully wrapped, but it was a lot of effort to put in for something that you already knew what it was. 

When Missy saw that yours were the same, she exclaimed, “Matching! Oh my gosh, perfect!” 

“Yes, perfect for my favorite girls. Now I’ll open mine and see what kind of slippers my amazing wife got me—”

“Dad’s are matching too! We’ll have a whole family of Rudolphs!” Missy grinned, already slipping hers on. 

Marcus looked at you with slight dismay, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought there was only one Rudolph in the story.” 

You laughed and kissed his cheek, “You’re wrong.” 

“C’mon Dad, put yours on so we can take a picture!” Missy hurried her father along, which was good because it distracted him from the fact that he was putting reindeer slippers on to be immortalized by her Instagram post. 

Missy deftly arranged the three of you so all of the slippers were visible and snapped the picture. Then she flipped her phone’s camera around and took a group selfie with your two smiling faces and Marcus’ playfully grumpy one. 

Thirty seconds later, you got the notification that @peacelovemissy had tagged you in a post. The caption read “don’t let @heroicsmorenodad’s face fool you, he loved the slippers as much as I did.” Since you were on her profile, you looked at her other posts and realized that she had been posting what she had gotten every day and either forgetting to tag you or not doing it because all of the other pictures had just had the items. It flooded your heart with warmth to know that she really was enjoying this at least half as much as you were. 

Marcus saw your watery eyes and, while Missy was busy replying to some friends’ comments that had already appeared, kissed your forehead and whispered to you, “Don’t cry again, you’ll freak her out.” 

That made you laugh and thankfully got rid of your tears. 

Soon, dinner was ready and the three of you went about your night, watching another Christmas movie. This time it was the animated Grinch, as per Marcus’ request. 

In bed that night, after some goings-on, Marcus was holding you close and telling you how thankful he was to have someone who loved Missy as much as he did. 

“You are an incredible mother, step or otherwise, and you are making her feel so loved and special by doing this,” Marcus said softly, pausing for a quick kiss. “But don’t burn yourself out with all of this.” 

You smiled, “You’re a bit too late telling me that, babe. It’s all already picked out and bought. I wouldn’t say I’m burnt out. Except for maybe wrapping them, that could do me in if I don’t give myself enough time.” 

“Then let me do it, I don’t need to be surprised everyday,” he told you and you hesitated because you wanted it to be fun for him too. “I mean it, if you don’t let me help out, I’ll tell you what I got you for Christmas.” 

You gasped loudly, he knew how much you loved surprises and hated spoilers, “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I would,” and he looked so solemn that you believed him. “Do we have a deal?” 

You huffed, even though he was actually going to take a good deal of annoyance and stress over perfect wrapping off your hands, “Fine. You can wrap them. On one condition.” 

Marcus rolled his eyes fondly, “What’s that?” 

Smiling cheekily, you moved from his arms and started kissing his bare chest and then lower down, letting him guess where you were headed, “That you let me say thank you.”

🏔🏔🏔

[bluejayblueskies]

Rules: List Five Comfort Characters And Tag Five People. This is in no particular order.

Tagged by @organchordsandlightning and @magnetarmadda (like three weeks ago i am so sorry 😭)

And I'll tag uhhh @anonymoussong, @quigalchemist, @thewrongshop, @judesstfrancis, and @wordsintimeandspace! if you want!

funnily enough though i gained a new comfort character in those three weeks! who knew!!!! it gets spot number one bc i am rotating it in my brain rn 💕

list under the cut!

Murderbot (The Murderbot Diaries) - ohhh my goddddd i truly have not related so hard to a character in a while like ... it's just like me for real and i love it 💜 i'm almost done with fugitive telemetry and then i'm going to go back and listen to all the audiobook versions because i need more right now immediately. it's just ... it's really nice especially to see murderbot's (what i view as) autistic traits accommodated and respected by the preservation team, especially the bit in the first book where mensah catches on to the fact that it doesn't like eye contact and adjusts accordingly. i can see this book series fundamentally changing my worldview, and i'm 100% here for it. honorable mention: ART my absolute beloved 🥰

Parker Yang (Malevolent) - 'jay, how can parker be a comfort character if he's dead?' well you see i love him, that's how. truly though, sometimes when i'm sad i think about parker and then i 🥺 and then i am a little less sad. i go absolutely wild for pre-canon arthur & parker fics. grabby hands, more parker always.

Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives) - to absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite bi ace archivist is on this list 🥰 jon's another character that makes me go 'oh he's just like me fr' and i love writing him! he was the first character that i really explored my own asexuality through (though i'd known i was asexual for a while before coming across him), and i just think he's neat and i am putting a blanket around his shoulders and keeping him away from the horrors 💕

Andrew Minyard (All For the Game) - if you're at all familiar with the AFtG series, this probably seems like an incredibly strange choice, but for me comfort character = a character that i'm glad i met and that i adore and that makes me happy by existing and sometimes that makes me feel things about myself, and andrew hits all of these points. i sometimes think about andrew's past and what he's gone through and what he has now and i want to chew through drywall, and without getting too overly personal, there are aspects of his storyline that hit me hard when i first read them and have stuck with me ever since. if you haven't read the series, i highly recommend it (though i also recommend looking up a list of content warnings beforehand because it's quite intense)

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) - there are a lot of characters who could have gotten this final spot, but percy deserves it honestly. i've read the og 5-book percy jackson series like ten times and percy is just ... i loved him as a kid and i love him even more as an adult. he's the kind of character where i pick up a book and i start reading from his POV and i feel like i've just sat down in front of a fire with a cup of hot cocoa and a fleece blanket. he also reminds me of the good parts of my childhood, which is not an easy feat, and i appreciate that 💜

[astriiformes]

hi, i’m sorry to bother you, but do i remember correctly that you or scribe made your emotional support Flapjack yourselves, ages ago? if so, do you have a pattern or anything you would/could sell/pass on to me? i have virtually zero handcrafting experience, but i am motivated by the concept of an emotional support Flapjack.

also, thank you for Constantly putting Hunter on my dash so i’d keep telling myself i’d watch TOH for the traumatized kid; i binged the entire thing in literally 3 days when the neurodivergent brain cells aligned. am i absolutely wrecked, ruined, and destroyed? that’s completely beside the point.

anyway, no pressure to answer this ask or anything! i hope you spot something beautiful today

Oh yes I made him myself! (Scribe made Clover to go with her Willow costume, and also most of Viney's palisman for my sister).

Tragically I don't have a good pattern to pass on; he's needlefelted, so it was really more a matter of stabbing the roving into a bird shape and going "Yeah that looks pretty bird-shaped" -- but! He was also my very first needlefelting project and turned out really well, so I would say to not be intimidated by giving the same thing a try! Needlefelting is really cool and not to hard to learn; I imagine there's probably some good online tutorials for making simple shapes when felting and I basically pieced Flapjack together from combining and felting together a few different simple shapes anyways.

I have also seen several people (here on tumblr and also one person at a con) who have made sewn versions of Flapjack. He's not the most complicated shape and you could probably find a decent bird pattern/base online somewhere pretty easily (probably even for a cardinal specifically, since they're fairly iconic birds). If you go that route I'd probably recommend sewing him out of fleece or felt, which are somewhat more forgiving/beginner friendly and soft and good for plushies to begin with.

The one big challenge I've run into is the feet -- I've been making them out of pipe cleaners and sewing them in and then felting over the stiches, but they keep getting pretty chewed up or torn out and I've had to replace them several times (right not the poor little guy just has one wonky foot, which I'll need to try to fix soon!). The effect is still great and I've liked how the feet have turned out every time, but it's something to keep in mind maybe. I imagine if I wasn't taking him everywhere and tucking him in pockets and things they'd probably take less of a beating, so there's also that.

Anyways, I'm so glad to hear you got into the show because of me and enjoyed it, I always love hearing that from followers, and I wish you luck with your Flapjack crafting endeavors! It makes me smile knowing I'm inspiring other people to make and carry around little emotional support buddies, considering folks have really been a fan of mine, and I'd love to see the finished product when you're done.

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

10/20/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

Matthew 16, Mark 8 and Luke 9:18-27

It's the 19th day of October. I'm Jill. It's so great to be here with you as we're counting down this month of October. Man, it's just happening. There's nothing any of us can do about it. It's going by fast. We are just a couple of months away from being through the Bible in chronological order in a whole entire year, I just want to say, well done. No matter where you're at, well done. I'm so proud of you and you should be so proud of you that you took this journey together to make time, to be intentional in the Word, and to allow God to speak to your hearts, to your mind, to your soul, to your spirit. And to say what he wanted to say, we can only be changed from the inside out by being in his word, and I trust that you are, as I know that I have been. And it's been a pleasure and a complete honor to be on this journey with you and to read the word of God. And that's what we're going to do right now. We're reading the book of Matthew, first, the 16th chapter, and then we'll jump over to Mark and read the 8th chapter. And then we'll finish today. And Luke .Chapter 9, verses 18 through 27. We're reading this week in the Amplified Bible. Matthew chapter 16.

Commentary:

It's another day where we could close our eyes and point and identify ourselves and anyone of these stories. Let's just start at the beginning today, shall we? Now the Pharisees and Sadducees came up and testing Jesus, they asked him to show them a sign from heaven which would support his divine authority. I'm going to fill in the next part because who he is and what he has done thus far has not been enough for them yet- they need him to prove himself a little bit more. Can we identify ourselves here? Yes. Prove yourself, Jesus, if you really love me, if you really are who you say you are, if you are really good then you'll do this. Then you'll give me this. Then you'll show me a sign. And we sometimes call it laying our fleece before the Lord. I absolutely love it. Jesus doesn't even play with the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Or maybe he does sort of play with them, if you will, by his response, depending on how you want to look at it. And he points out to them that they can read the weather by looking at the sky, but they failed to interpret the signs of the times, and proceeds to call them an evil and unfaithful generation that craves a miraculous sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. Now remember the story of Jonah being swallowed up by the whale, but then going and telling the people to repent? OK and then just moving right along into the next paragraph. Then the disciples, maybe we can identify ourselves here, they go to the other side of the sea and they realize they forgot the bread and Jesus says to them, watch out and be on your guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. And then they begin to discuss this among themselves, and they land on that He said that because they forgot the bread. And Jesus repeatedly calls them out. You men of little faith, it's almost like you can hear him saying, what am I going to do with you, do you not remember the miracle of feeding 4000? We were just there together and I want to laugh. I want to laugh at them and think how ridiculous that is until I see myself trying to figure out what Jesus is actually trying to say. Until I realize maybe it's me. Maybe I'm second guessing. Maybe I'm starting to doubt what he actually- I mean, there's so much happening here. The next paragraph Jesus asks the disciples, who do people say that the Son of Man is? And they respond. And then Jesus asks the most important question, that he's trying to get you to the heart of the disciples. But who do you say that I am? It's a question we all have to sit with. It's a question that we all have to answer within our own faith, within our own convictions, and within our own foundational beliefs. Who do we say that Jesus is. There's so much that happens in this exchange between Jesus and the disciples. But then it narrows in on Jesus and Simon Peter, and in this moment Jesus renames Simon Peter to Peter and Jesus reveals himself to Peter. The fascinating thing about this declaration is Jesus declares where he will build his church and where he declares. This is so interesting because this is a place of Pagan worship. This is where detestable acts of worship to false gods took place. Let me break it down just a little bit further. This is probably a place where most Christians would condemn another Christian for being at. And this is where Jesus declares upon this rock in this place I will build my church, and the gates of death will not prevail. That's who Jesus is. I love that it starts out where he asks the question and he answers it for us. This is who Jesus is, where he chooses to build his church, where few of us would even want to be seen or recognized. That this is where he will build his church.

Prayer:

Father we thought we knew you and we realized that we've only known about you. What we're learning- we're learning who you are through your word. We're learning that many of us have gotten it all wrong. We have gone with the flow. We have believed the status quo, but we are learning who you are by listening to you speak for yourself. And as you speak for yourself, it is penetrating us from the inside out. And sometimes it hurts, sometimes it stings a little bit as we allow our perceptions, as we allow the things that we thought we knew about you, we allow them to fade to gray as you shed new light and you tell us yourself who you are. Reveal the truth of who you are to us. We pray we have gotten some things wrong about you, and we have even told some things wrong about you to other people, but we thank you for shedding light on the truth of who you are. As you reveal yourself to us this day and every day after Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. Both God and man. So loving, so kind, humble and righteous, but never self-righteous. We thank you for who you are. We thank you for your love for humanity, for the lost. For those with little faith just like us. We love you. We worship you and we long to know you more Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Announcements:

Daily Audio Bible. That's home base. Check it out if you have not. Take a look around the store if you haven't, if you love coffee and tea we have some of the best. I truly believe that we have some of the best coffee out there. A lot of people write me and ask me what's your favorite? Well, I do love the Ethiopian and drink it every day of my life, so I'm probably a little bit spoiled at this point. But they're all good. You truly can't pick a bad one. There's other things to do around there if you like the the music that's in the background as we podcast every day- all of the music is available, the soundtrack, as well as other things intended to enhance your journey through the Bible every year. Just take a look around on the website. If you'd like to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do so by giving through mail DAB PO Box 1996, Spring Hill TN 37174. As always, thank you so much for your partnership. We could not do it without you. That is no understatement. That is the truth. Or you can hit the give icon, it's up at the top right hand corner of your mobile device. Or look for the gift icon on the website as well if you would like prayer. If you would like to call in and pray for someone that's previously called in asking for prayer, you can do so 800-583-2164 or hit that red circle button, it's up up at the top right hand corner I believe of your mobile device. Make sure you hit submit and turn the wheel towards chronological so to get to the right place. That's going to do it for me today. I'm Jill. I look forward to turning the page with you all tomorrow as we continue this journey through the Bible. Can you believe we are nearly within two months of being all the way through the Bible together in a year and that we're walking into the holiday season in the US? So we know that life is going to amp up another 50 to 500 miles an hour into the holiday season, so don't forget to just take time every day. Take a breath. Take some intentionality. Heart of gratitude, thanksgiving. Just to remember where you are, where you've come from and where you're going. And know that you never go alone. I'm Jill. Until tomorrow, love one another.

Community Prayer Line:

Dear DABC Family, just want to praise God and thank him for his goodness. This is my first time requesting prayers since June. I've been facing one obstacle after another. Every time I get up, I feel pushed down by Satan. Earlier in this summer I got results for a mammogram which were benign but needed to have a lumpectomy to make sure the results were benign. But they found an atypical cell, which may or may not become cancerous. Have an MRI in four months to see if I need to go on preventive medication. Later in the summer, I got into a serious car accident with my younger son in the car. The car was totaled, but we walked away. Some pain, but recovery. My son is OK. The other driver obtained a lawyer. We don't know who's at fault. Waiting to see what the claim they are making. Two weeks later, my older son got into a car accident. He's OK, but that car also needs to be fixed. We just dropped him off to college on the other coast. And after working for 20 years at grade level, I am teaching a whole new grade and I feel like a first year teacher. I was not in a good place mentally, physically and spiritually for a few months. I'm just relying on God to get me through these storms. 

Good morning, this is Tonya calling from Suffolk. Under Construction, I just finished listening to your prayer request. Just wanted to let you know that God hears you. God knows all about it. I just trust and still believing that God is going to come through in his perfect timing. We tend to like to rush things because we feel like things is on our timeline and we get I think we've rushed it more so being fearful, not intending to rush but just being fearful and then we started getting anxious because we feel like that we have a deadline that we have to meet and just things that. That's not gonna happen in time, but I still trust and believing that God is going to come through right in the nick of time. So just continue to hold on and know that God wants again. He hears you. He knows all about. He knows what you what you're going through. He know where we we're going through. So Lord God, I just continue to trust you, Father. We continue to hold on to your unchanging hand, Father, allow your child to know Lord God that you are God and there is no other. And we just thank you. Lord God, we love you and we praise you in advance, Father, that once again that you're going to show yourself mighty in your timing in Jesus name. Amen. 

Good morning. This is Diane from Tennessee. This is Monday, October 16th, and I am requesting some pretty heavy prayers right now just for my mind and my heart. My husband has been moving forward in pursuing and building a whole new life with his mistress, girlfriend and just was building a separate life while we were still married. And technically where we are still married, we are going through a divorce because of this and after 22 years of marriage. Um, there in recent weeks has just been very public, cruel behavior, complete disregard and disrespect for both myself and my son and our families and even our closest friends and community. And there's just been gloating and boasting and flagrant just disregard is really just the the word I can say- lack of any compassion or care for everybody that he's leaving behind and my mind is just consumed with the whole process. Um, with the acts of cruelty and with the unknowns ahead, the unknowns that exist even happening right now, that I'm just cut off from and my son and I are just working to get through. I just asked for prayers of protection. Protection and provision over my son. And I just thank you all for joining in me on this. Thank you.

[umbraastaff]

“Barry! Hey! Thank god!” Lup shouts the moment she sees him. Barry looks up and sees Taako draped over her shoulder, looking like absolute shit.

“What-- hey, hi-- what happened to him?” Barry asks, rushing over.

“Santa Claus bit me,” Taako says, though the slur to his tone doesn’t make him very convincing.

“Some-- Some freak in a Santa costume,” Lup clarifies quickly, breathless from her hammering heart. “He-- like, there’s something wrong with-- I think the guy might’ve been sick, or something, and spread it to Taako?”

“Aw, shit,” Barry says as he gets a close look at Taako’s face. The texture of peppermint spreads upwards from his lip. “Where did the Santa go?”

Lup says, “He’s gone,” because she’s pretty sure she had to have imagined the thing she thinks happened, and if she didn’t, she can’t begin to have the words to say ‘I think I exploded him.’

Barry turns back to Taako. “Um, okay, we gotta get you to the hospital--”

“No hospitals,” Taako says. “Not getting fleeced by a fuckin’ hospital.”

“You might need a hospital,” Lup starts. The peppermint creeps upwards, and simultaneously inwards. Taako is at once relieved and deeply unsettled to be tasting sweet mint instead of blood.

“It’s cool, it’s-- I know a cler-- a guy. At the hospital. He won’t charge, not-- not for this. I promise.”

“You do?” Lup and Taako ask simultaneously.

Barry looks a little offended. “I know-- I know some guys. I know people. Guys. In places. Sometimes.”

--

The guy in the place is Merle Highchurch, who takes Taako into a back room to treat him.

Lup and Barry stand just outside the doorway, angled such that Lup can see her brother. (Taako is insisting on assurance that he’s not going to owe Merle for this, which is a sign that he’s doing okay.)

“It’s just, like, I can’t help but think-- I had this crazy fucking dream right before, and then when this happened, I had this thought, like, of course. Of course this would happen. And I feel-- I know it’s ridiculous, because who the hell would expect a Santa with peppermint rabies-- but I feel like I should’ve known, somehow? To be ready for something fucked up to happen.”

“Extremely, definitely not your fault,” Barry says quickly, but something else sparked the interest in his eyes. “You said-- What kind of crazy dream?”

“Crazy crazy. There was so much shit happening, I cannot begin to do it justice, it was like, there were a bunch of weird creatures and a unicorn and the moon talked-- I know dreams are weird by default, but it was super vivid. If Taako didn’t get bit, I was gonna-- I thought I might’ve been drugged.” She rubs her forehead, smiles wryly. “...Think your guy can do an off-the-record drug test?”

“Maybe,” says Barry absently. His brow is furrowed, lost in other thoughts.

“Oh, but the end of it-- there was this ominous voice in the dark, and-- and... a grey... baby? They said--” Lup shakes her head. “They talked, and I woke up.”

Barry’s eyes are wide, but before she can ask, there’s a voice from behind them.

“Barry, are you going to be taking another shift tonight, or-- Hello,” the gnome says as he notices Lup. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“My friend, uh, Lup,” Barry says. “Lup, Davenport. Davenport, Lup.”

“Is she...” Davenport inclines his head forward, expecting Barry to pick up on something.

”No,” Barry says. “I mean--” he makes an unclear gesture that is halfway a shrug, looking a little helpless.

“Am I what?” Lup asks, meeting Davenport’s eyes.

“...Here to be treated,” Davenport responds, calm.

“I don’t buy that.” Lup steps toward the both of them, her presence suddenly more intimidating. Barry steps back. Davenport doesn’t. “If I was here to get treated, that’d be obvious as hell, especially to someone who clearly knows their way around the place as well as you. Listen to me: My brother’s teeth got turned to fucking peppermint today by a rabid Santa Claus. If you know anything about -- anything that’s going on right now, I think I deserve to know!”

And she steps closer to the gnome, trying to intimidate the truth out of him, trying to find it in his unreadable face.

Instead, she sees city buildings, illuminated with golden light as the sun sets behind them; she sees the city’s inhabitants in peace and harmony, and-- that golden light collides with the bursts of fire and lightning she realizes are coming from her, and--

there is a flash, and a sizzle, and their two forms of light snake and spiral into a helix together, rising up, and the vision is gone.

They both gasp and step back. Barry has a hand over his mouth, witnessing it.

Davenport says, “What the hell was that?”

[erodasfishtacos]

Waitin’ For You

Prompt (from KoFi donation): Mlbrry all cuddled up with his family on the couch after raking leaves all afternoon.

warnings: fluff, mentions of struggling with sexual identity 

i write for FREE - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. 

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it!

-

Their yard was absolutely expansive. ****

They had to pay a landscaping company to maintain their estate but it didn’t mean that there wasn’t leaves scattering the green grass with the rate that they were falling off of the tree as summer transitioned into autumn in New York.

During the day, when dad was home, alone time wasn’t a thing for Harry. 

He couldn’t take a single step without one or more of his kids having to be there with him - even when he was brushing his teeth that morning Cash had been clinging onto his back just because while Ezra was on his hip.

He loved his little crew of minions who followed him around, even Briar who was still unsteady on her chunky legs would try to keep up with her siblings.

Harry was raking up the leaves in the backyard around where the children likes to run around and play.

YN was sat on the patio, watching - it was cool out and her husband was in a plain white tee that was pretty transparent - she couldn’t help but drool as his back muscles flexing every time he moved.

“S’not a free show!” Harry had hollered over to his wife, noticing her ogling and shaking his small bum at her.

“Looks free to me,” She had shrugged fondly, Briar was fast asleep on her chest with a pacifier tucked between her lips and arms wrapped around her mom’s neck - wrapped up in a fleece blanket because of the chilled New York weather.

“Oh, you’ll be payin’ later,” He assures her with a very telling look that would make anyone other than his wife blush with the innuendo and a boyish grin. 

Horny bastard.

Ezra was sat on the ground next to his mother, he had one of his new baby dolls that Harry had bought him from when he was traveling and a few of his most loved ones as well. ***

However, Easton and Cash were right on Harry’s heels during the excitement. His middle son had wrapped himself around his father’s calf like a monkey while his oldest helped rake the leaves into a massive pile.

It made YN think fondly back to when they just had Easton. They had taken him to his first pumpkin patch and he had loved the hayride so much that they took it on him two times - it was going to be a third but people started recognizing them.

It was before Harry was used to being ‘famous’ and he still has trouble telling people that no he didn’t want to sigh something or that he didn’t want to take a picture. ****

“Bubby, y’like tha’?” Harry cooed with a wide smile, loving to watch his son’s wide green eyes as they rode of the back of the tractor through the fields of pumpkins.

“Pummys!” He had squeaked, pumpkins being too difficult of a word right now and both his parents had laughed.

“Yeah, we’ll buy y’one to take home,” His father assures him as they get off the hayride for the second time.

Easton instantly starts crying, tugging at his dad’s hair, “‘Nother ride, ‘nother ride t’pummy’s!”

Harry and YN looks at each other with a soft smile, their son was just so….perfect and cute and impossible to say ‘no’ to.

“One more can’t hurt?” Harry asks his wife, unsure as he bouncing his tearful son.

“He really loves them. Why not?” YN agrees, stepping forward to kiss her son’s cheek before readjusting his little beanie.

“Hey! Is that Harry Styles?”

YN hadn’t realized there had been a stray tear running down her cheek but of course Harry does when he notices her distance gaze and watery eyes.

He hands the rake to Cash, showing how to properly hold it, and says, “Help y’brother, I’ll be right back,” even though by this point the pile of leaves was absolutely enormous and ready to be played in.

“Mama, wha’s with tha’ tears? Y’alright?” Harry frowns, wiping off his brow and making his way over to her.

Which, of course, alerts Ezra to peeked up and automatically get tearful himself, “Mama, mama, mama s’sad.”

She shakes her head, laughing lowly and wiping her eye, “I’m okay, Ezzie. Happy tears. Mama’s happy, okay?”

He contemplates for a moment before standing up, holding one of his baby dolls and mumbling to his mother even though he knows the answer, “Hold me.”

But Harry scoops him up from behind, making him squeak loudly, and giggle as his dad growls against his cheek, “Daddy will get yeh!”

It made the little boy’s frown dissipate and be replaced with a dimply smile and peel of laughter as Harry play nibbles at his neck and cheek.

YN is just so fucking fond of her husband.

Briar snuffles awake at the noise of Ezra with her own disgruntled expression. Her chunky hand comes to her binky which she pops out of her mouth and throws across the ground.

“Uh oh, we woke up sleepin’ beauty,” Harry hums to his son as Briar nuzzles further into her mother with a sad whine.

But when she notices her daddy, she blinks up at him and gives her a cute little smile before she blows a raspberry at him.

“Hi lil’ mama, daddy sees you. Y’look s’pretty,” He assures her, laughing at her baby antics.

“Daddy! We’re ready! C’mon!” Easton shouts from the large pile of leafs with an excited Cash next to him adding, “Yeah! C’mon!”

Harry can’t deny his sons, YN is standing up to go over as well and her husband shoulders up to her, “Mama, wha’ssit?”

“Just thinking back to when we just had Easton and took him to that pumpkin patch, how absolutely obsessed he was with the hayride and he was saying ‘pummys,” She remembers fondly, she loves watching her eldest grow up but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss him as a baby.

Harry must have the same idea because his face softens as well, a slight chuckle, “Yeah, us still tryin’ t’figure out how t’be parents and just bein’ so in love with having our first lil’ bub.”

“We had no idea what we were doing,” YN agrees, wincing when Briar tugs at her hair because she’s a baby and she can.

“We were just tryin’ t’make our baby happy and we did it, mama. Just look at ‘em,” Harry replies, kissing Ezra’s temple as they look over at Easton.

“S’fuckin’ stupid!” Harry huffed our as he jammed the keys into the ignition as people flock the car, “Just want t’take m’wife and baby t’a pumpkin patch and make ‘em happy.

The young couple was still getting use to the overwhelming attention Harry was receiving - there were people now flocked around their car.

“Harry, breathe. It’s okay. Look at the bub, he is so so happy,” YN titters, hand stroking his hard bicep.

And he does listen, turning around and watching Easton in his car seat, eyes droopy with drowsiness but he’s hugging a mini pumpkin on his lap with an ecstatic smile and it calms Harry a bit.

Who is trying to demonstrate to his brother that it’s not scary to jump into the leaves by explaining it to him as best as he can.

Easton has this ear to ear grin, green eyes sparkling with excitement as he watches Cash step timidly closer to the pile.

YN interrupts Harry’s memory, “I just…love our babies so so much.”

He feels a tightness in his throat, like he could cry as he hugs his son tight to his chest, “Y’the best mama on this fuckin’ earth, love you and m’babies so so much.”

Harry had sat in his frat dorm room alone, after he’d gotten in an argument with that frustrating girl who’d wrote the article about him - he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t just leave her alone.

He was already irritated as he worked on his next homework assignment for his college class Human Interactions and Relations.

The prompt for the short essay was, ‘Recall your most meaningful romantic relationship you’ve ever had.’

When the professor had announced it, he had thrown a wink Harry’s way and teased, “Now Mr. Allstar Styles, I know you probably have more than any of us to choose from but just one.”

The class laughed along with the professors, feeding into the idea of Harry being a womanizer.

He had stormed out of the classroom as soon as they were dismissed with a stormy expression and he had ignored the professor’s request for him to stay after as he called after him.

Harry who was now sat, staring blankly at an empty word document because he didn’t even have one relationship to write about because everyone assumed he was heterosexual maybe even bisexual but he wasn’t.

He didn’t feel fucking normal. Girls and boys alike threw themselves at him on a sometimes hourly basis - it didn’t matter how attractive they were, he felt nothing - no sexual desire towards them.

His head falls into his palms, feeling stupid for wanting to cry because Harry Styles wasn’t fucking supposed to cry. He wishes he could find someone at a party to take upstairs to hook up with but he couldn’t - even when he had tried to force himself too.

But he had a few aching pain in his chest that he would never be normal. He wouldn’t find someone to settle down with, have a family with.

He knew that journalist, despite how frustrating she was - was something special because she had finally sparked something deep within.

And man was he right.

The woman that made him feel that spark was currently tucking their fourth baby under her sweatshirt so that she could feed while their three boys play in the fall weather.

He has to halt, letting down Ezra to join his brothers, and cup his wife’s jaw with honey, sweetness in his eyes and voice.

The angle was a bit awkward, with their daughter latched on her chest but she was smushed comfortably between her two parents.

Before he speaks, he has to bring her in for a kiss, then he’s murmuring against her lips, “Sweetheart, I’m s’in love w’you as m’wife, m’best friend, and the best mama t’my babies. Waited for you, felt like m’whole life ‘cause I knew I was meant f’you.”

“Harry,” YN whispers, pressing her lips back to his - there was no sexual charge behind it, just true intimacy and connection.

Their moment gets interrupted when Ezra lets out a loud shriek of terror as he watches Easton jump into the pile and disappear.

“East! East!” The youngest boy blubbers, running back to be scoop up by his father with a demand of, “Hold me, daddy.”

“Oh hush. He’s just playing, bub,” Harry simpers for his three and a half year old who is wide eyed when Easton pops out and pulls a giggling Cash into the fortress of leaves as well.

“No no no,” Ezra lisps, not tolerating this activity one bit.

Harry places him back on his feet, saying, “Y’dont have to play but y’need to be kind and let your brothers. They are okay, they’re just having fun.”

Ezra glares at his father with all the strength the cherub faced boy can before he plops his bum with a huff.

YN sits down next to him in the grass, allowing him to wriggle halfway onto her lap, squeaking, “Feed m’baby!”

“Yes, Ezra. I’m feeding your baby,” YN agrees with a rub on his small back as they watch Harry let out a loud roar before chucking Easton over his left should and Cash over his right then tossing them into the leaf pile.

It becomes a cycle of the boys giggling as they run from the leaves back to their father only to be tossed back into it again and again.

They boys are having so much fun, squealing and screaming when Harry playfully nips them before throwing them.

Ezra, very cautiously, stands up and toddles forward to his father, wrapping himself around his dad’s calf to let him know he’s there.

The boys are currently wrestling in the stack as Harry looks down to see his youngest, “Hi baby, y’want a turn?”

Harry pops him on his hip as Ezra whines with uncertainty, “S’scary daddy.”

“No it’s not!” Easton assures him, tugging a cackling Cash back down when he tries to get up to escape.

“Gonna be a brave boy f’daddy? Want t’have a try?” Harry murmurs, he was a bit sweaty from continuously throwing and picking up the boys.

“Okay,” Ezra finally nods with big eyes.

Harry’s as gentle as possible, humming, “One…two…three!” Before tossing him into the pile with his brother.

It is only second before Ezra is running back so his father would do it again, YN had to get out her phone to record the precious moment.

And when Briar is done feeding, Harry takes his daughter and places the eleven month old with her big brothers for a picture.

After all four of the boys are exhausted, especially Harry, they all relax in the living room as YN begins cooking dinner.

When she comes out to announce it’s ready, she finds the cutest thing possible.

Harry sprawled out on their large sofa on his back with Ezra on his chest with his face tucked in Harry’s neck, Cash further down between Harry’s legs with his face smushed against his father’s knee, and Easton squeezed tightly between Harry and the back of the couch - cheek squished against his father’s ribs.

And YN, well she just really fucking loves her family.

—

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[sugamamacustard]

Let me help you

Pairing:  Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Because I like a bit of hurt/comfort, and I love the idea of an omega depression, I'm curious on how alpha third years on Aoba Johsai (so like Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Mattsun) would do in response to their omega being in an omega depression.

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Author’s Note:  Oikawa’s got really long, so I didn’t include Mattsun or Makki. If you wanna request a part 2 I’ll get on it right away!

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵ Truth be told, it was kind of his fault. 

➵Right after you both bonded, he immediately seemed to drop any redeeming qualities he had while courting you.

➵He skipped out on dates, stayed later and later at practice, gave the mile to his fangirls.

➵And while you could get over that, the worse thing you realized was when you went to cheer him on at one of his games. 

➵His bond mark was covered with a scent gland bandage and when Iwaizumi noticed it (He knew of your bonding), he sent a worried glance your way.

➵He could practically see the heartbreak from his place on the court. 

➵What was worse was that you didn’t make a scene. 

➵You stood, turned and left. That was it. 

➵ Oikawa was busy doing his pre-game whatever to notice, making the situation even worse.  

➵Iwaizumi wanted to follow you but the whistle of the ref called him back. 

➵ You didn’t want Iwaizumi to follow you anyway. 

➵You felt numb. So, so numb. 

➵Like anything you previously felt-- any longing, or wishing for your alpha-- reduced to a numb buzz that kept your body moving. 

➵You felt like you were on Autopilot. 

➵Toru made it fairly obvious that he wanted your bond mark on display, so why weren’t the same standards held to him? It wasn’t against the rules of volleyball-- several alphas had theirs out on proud display with their omega cheering in the stands. 

➵Was it you?

➵God, you felt so empty. Like your will to live was dripping away. 

➵You felt your omega lay down, whining as they tried to figure out what was wrong. Where did you go wrong? 

➵You barely felt the soft fleece of your blankets as you settled into your nest for who knows how long. 

___

 Toru was lost. You were in the stands during warm-up last game, but was gone by half-time. Okay, fine. Maybe you had to pee. But then you didn’t show up at all after that.  While at the time it took a back burner-- because we all know how Oikawa plays-- it was now front and center. His alpha was on edge and snapped on him twice already, sending sharp throbs of pain to his temples. It had been three days since Toru had seen you, his mate, so Toru could tell that was a big reason for his frustration. But Toru didn’t know why you had been gone for three days. 

If you were sick, why didn’t you text him? Were you injured? Toru didn’t know.  His neck burnt with anticipation at the thought of you in any peril. 

Where were you?

 Shoving his way past a few fangirls, Toru made his way into the gym, racking his brain for any sort of hint. Vacation maybe and you just forgot to tell him?

 “Iwa-chan! I need your-” Toru paused, huffing when Iwaizumi roughly shoved past him. His alpha was on guard immediately, making Toru growl loudly.   “What’s you issue, Iwa? Blue-balled or something?” 

The laugh that left Iwaizumi made even him, the head alpha, shiver. “My issue? What’s yours?! You absolutely destroyed your relationship last game and ask me for help?! What the hell is wrong with you, Oikawa?!”  

Oikawa swallowed. There was no nickname. No sense of friendship in his words. They were straight malice, laced with acidic venom meant to hurt him. 

When Oikawa didn’t immediately answer, Iwaizumi continued. “You make them wear their bond mark for all the world to see, but cover yours up? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?! How in the hell you got someone like them to glance your way for more than a second is beyond me, let alone bond you; but when you do, you fucking destroy them. You’re a failure of an alpha, Toru Oikawa.” 

Truth be told, Oikawa thought that him covering up his bond mark would save you from trouble. The less people who knew about him being mated the less people to harass you. But he was your alpha. He was supposed to make sure that didn’t happen anyway.  Fuck, Iwa was right. He was a failure. This became evident as more and more things came hurdling back at him.  He didn’t even grab his duffel before he was, quite literally, sprinting out of the gym. He didn’t care who he pushed over. He didn’t care who he snapped at. He didn’t care. He only care about one person and one person alone. 

___

You whined as hunger continued gnawing at your gut. You wanted to eat, really, but you just didn’t have the energy. You didn’t have the will. 

You still felt so numb and didn’t know where to go from here. At this point, it was clear you were in the midst of an Omega Depression, and to be fair-- that scared you. You wanted to spend the evening in your nest, restart and reboot, before talking to your alpha about it the next day. You truly didn’t mean to drop. 

But here you were. The aspect of ...starvation scared you. The aspect of no closure for yourself scared you. Death scared you. But you couldn’t fight yourself to fix it. Couldn’t bring yourself to even lift your head or stay awake for more than an hour. 

The door to your room slammed open, but you didn’t look up. It was probably your guardian coming in to try and get you to eat again. But you wouldn’t. 

Your heart dropped when the smell of burnt plastic invaded your sense. 

“No- no, no, no, no no- Please god no-” Oikawa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you. You looked like you had both feet dangling in the grave, hanging on by a loose root you grabbed onto in a last ditch effort. 

He continued repeating no while running his hands through his hair, already crying before he even set foot in your room.  When he did dare step closer, that was all it took before he was running to you, pulling you in close despite your whines of protest.  His grip on you was bruising, but he couldn’t risk letting you slip. Not again. 

“Please- please don’t leave me.” He sobbed into your shoulder, your own eyes stinging (Dehydration keeping tears from falling).  “I- I can fix this- I can fix us. Fuck- Please Y/N. Please omega, let me help you. Let me make this right!”

Though you didn’t say anything, the grip on his jacket told him all he needed to know. And though it would be a long road to recovery, you and him would conquer it. 

➵ Completely contrary to Oikawa, your drop wasn’t anyone’s fault.

➵Maybe the school systems, if there was blame to be put. 

➵So much had gone on in such a short period. 

➵You and your alpha, along with his team, had been bombarded with practice and paperwork in preparation for the upcoming tournament. 

➵But just because volleyball picked, doesn’t mean school drops off.

➵ You had essay after essay due, Unit exams which would soon fall into Final exams.

➵You and Hajime had barely even seen each other all week.

➵You both still sent each other good morning and good night texts, and if you see each other in the hallway you’ll give each other a quick peck. 

➵Honestly, it was obvious everyone was on edge. 

➵Teachers didn’t care though, they just kept piling on more, and more, and more work.

➵ And volleyball just kept getting closer and closer.

➵You stumbled into the gym with a chirp, trying to sort through the multitude of papers in your arms. 

➵Your back was aching and your arms were strained, but you couldn’t drop them. That would be a disaster. 

➵ The coach sent you a raised brow, offering a hand to help. You waved him off, sitting on the bench with a grunt.

➵Everyone was already sweaty and panting, practice in full swing. 

➵God, everyone looked so tired already. 

➵You could feel the waves of exhaustion.

➵ As they were just in deep in your bones as they were in theirs. 

___

“Did you finish filling out the registry forms?”

You looked up to the coach, nodding slowly before riffling through your papers and pulling out the ones you were looking for. You handed them to the beta, quickly going back to your notes once more. 

You noted the stumbled steps and slowed reflexes, but simply made it a point to emphasize rest with the boys. Maybe a day with no practice would do them more good then practice. 

Hajime was doing well, as usual, somehow keeping his head and energy high. You know he hasn’t gotten much rest either, and you felt for your alpha. Honestly, you just wanted one day with just you and your alpha, where you both could sleep the day away and come back good as new. 

That just sounded glorious. 

“You wouldn’t mind filling out the ref sheets either, would you?” The beta smirked, already handing you the sheets. He knew you had a tough time saying no to people older and/or bigger than you; and had you doing several things that most mangers would never touch.

It was tiring.

You reluctantly took the sheets, already starting on them. The notes you were working on were yanking from under you, the coach reading over them. 

He scoffed at your note of possibly skipping a practice. “Are you serious?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“Take a break?! These boys are on the brink of a skillful breakthrough, and you want to stop them?!” 

You closed in on yourself at the yells, trying to focus on the ref sheets. He continued yelling and berating you for the notes you made. You could feel the teams stares on you, but you also knew they wanted you to learn to stand up for yourself. They had been giving you a few minutes to try and collect yourself and if nothing happened they would step in. 

It only took seconds for you to finally break down, sobbing into your hands as the coach’s yelling reached a breaking point. The team took very time to act then and there. 

Oikawa and Kyoutani were snapping and growling, pushing him back and away from you while Hajime slid onto his knees in front of you, pulling you to his chest and kissing your bond mark. He rocked you side to side, purring and letting you cry. 

You sobbed and sobbed while the coach tried backtracking, but it was too late. The pack was on defense. One of them was in danger and they were going to make sure they all were safe. 

___

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, your in Hajime’s arms, which are wrapped tight around your waist. 

Oikawa was on the other side of you, head on Hajime’s thigh, Makki and Mattsun were cuddling together a little to the left of you. Kyoutani was closest to you (He had a soft spot for you, almost like you were another older sister to him). You ran a hand through his hair for a moment before taking a deep breath in and out. The rest of the team was scattered in the puppy pile around you, and the gym was dark. 

In fact, everything was dark. There were chairs propped up by the door, just in case you supposed, and there were jackets littered everywhere. Your heart fluttered at the thought. 

Hajime’s arms subconsciously tightened around you, luring you back into sleep.

You, your alpha, and your pack.