#Has seen Mothman exactly once

[antoncrane]

I need to draw Silas, but I also need to stop playing long enough to do that. ;; <3 (So obvs going to throw more photos at you in the meanwhile.)

[lemonlightt]

qsmp hcs because i am so normal and not hyperfixated

(consisting of mariana, slimecicle, jaunaflipa, tilin, philza, chayanne, missa but i will add some of other streamers once i catch up on them & if i don't get flamed by the qsmp community. once qsmp expands more i may make another one of these (i will make another one of these in 2 weeks i have no thoughts but qsmphELPME!11!!1!!))

(i also have added some hcs i've seen on tumblr/twitter because they're all i can think about. btw looking for qsmp friends plsplspls i'm so lonely)

qcharlie is a demon and has absolutely no idea of it and progressively gains little demonic traits everytime he makes a deal

meanwhile qmariana is an angel and hold onto your seats guys this one is an absolute shocker! has absolutely no idea of it

everytime something awful happens to charlie (jauna dies, brutally scrambles tilin) his humansona becomes a little more unstable and he gets a little more sloshy - overtime he becomes straight up oobleck and gunks up the smp

qcharlie was raised in an environment that seemed like hell and it's responsible for the fact he doesn't really know how to be dad (his dad treated him like shit) and he's had no examples of healthy romantic relationships

qcharlie and qmariana are absolutely head over heels for eachother they're just losers and find it hard to express it adequately or meaningfully (this does not make them any less dysfunctional and annoying but they are my parental figures your honor)

qcharlie sews and knits and sewed a trans flag into each of their iconic clothing (qmariana's cape thingy, qcharlie's hearts and jauna's bows) he does the same for tilin as soon as he finds out they have the binary of none

qcharlie has been plotting qmariana's murder but qmariana is blind to it and all he cares about is hot steamy gay minecraft sex. they remind me of something but i can't put my finger on exactly what so if you can think of it tell me HJAHA

qcharlie would ADORE radiohead (specifically "nice dream" and "no surprises") (yes i am projecting, yes he is my favourite person and yes he is the only member to me i cant take it anymore)

jauna has golden highlights from her revival (think revivebur but stop thinking about revivebur)

jauna has vitiligo

jaunaflippa is allergic to dandelions but she will not hesitate to give them a blow and makes a little wish (usually about wanting her mom and dad to get along and be happy)

the jauna family get their glasses mixed up so they have to go through trial and error to find which prescription is theres (this takes 30 minutes because qcharlie and qmariana typically fight to the death over it/j)

when tilin died, jauna shared half of their bow with qquackity and keeps it tied neatly around her tail as a sentiment to her best friend but sometimes you'll catch her wearing it on one of her fingers. usually her pinkie (pinkie promise) or index finer

qcharlie and qmariana don't know how to braid in contrast to qwilbur who has spent hours experimenting with talullah to style her hair

qwilbur gives talullah a little walkman(?) thing for talullah to customise and records her cute little songs for her to listen to on the tapes when he's away from home

when qwilbur comes back from his travels, he will never ever fail to comes back with stories to tell, oneofakind gifts for talullah, songs for talullah to sing when she misses him, etc because that is simply how he loves

there is always music coming from talullah and qwilbur's home and it always brings joy to those who pass even if for just a moment

talullah has albinism

tallulah is disabled (canon examples: she has a different model to the rest of the eggs, she's clumsy and a little slow, her wings are underdeveloped) (she's basically just like me fr)

qmissa and qphilza are literally eldritch creatures. they look like the mothman fucker. they are a terrifying duo. here's a perfect example

qmissa is like 9'5 and qphilza is 5'2

qphil tells qmissa about his giant wife who is the god of death and is beautiful and qmissa doesn't believe his platonic husband could pull (spoiler alert he is proven wrong)

chayanne despises qwilbur because qmissa can play guitar better

chayanne dyes his hair pink to match techno and/or wears a little skull. techno is his hero and he is JUST like him frfr

speaking of which, when chayanne first killed a mob, qmissa helped turn it into a skull mask like his own and techno's. chayanne feels more confident wearing it and therefore never takes it off / alternatively qmissa made him a little mask from chayanne's eggshell

chayanne's favourite time of the day is when qphil tells him stories about techno

chayanne is nv like the rest of the eggs but is definitely more vocal than tilin for example (flaps his hands, exclaims excitedly, laughs a lot)

talullah and tilin are twins

tilin is part of the qquackity x qcharlie club upon finding out about the millions of failed attempts of qcharlie trying to flirt with qquackity

i dont think tilin hates qcharlie for what he did but i think they sure make his life a living hell/t

also tilin and jauna are in heaven with techno and they all bully trump. they make a circle around his cowering body and run around in circles while holding hands (this is a joke but not really)

general hcs that apply to all members/eggs:

there's few resources for clothing so the egg parents pass down their clothes to their eggs and the eggs mixnmatch it

the eggs use sign language to communicate as well as signs and doodles or use those little tablets with tts that nv people often use to communicate

extra: techno because he's my favourite character and isn't even in the smp!11!!11!1

techno is a sort of spirit and haunts his family, especially chayanne. he watches over all of the eggs. he hears all the little stories phil tells about him to his eggs. he'll hear chayanne say something he'd say and he goes YOOOOOOOOOOOOO excitedly and goes THATS MY BOY!!! uncle techno takes the eggs in when they get scrambled. when chayanne and talullah died techno gave them their lives back because it broke his heart to see them die just like that.

[will80sbyers]

Wish I could consume stories with the little amount of media literacy of the man that just came up on my fyp claiming that Mikes entire character arc is a about his love for El, that Byler is Will’s arc only and not Mike’s and that if they killed El off they’d throw away Mike’s character arc like sir none of that is remotely correct??? I swear these people watch this show with the biggest ship goggles on known to man because viewing all three characters and their arcs separately they’d see that Mike’s arc along with Will and El’s (and most of the main cast actually) are all about self identity to some extent. Not to mention the fact the entire story starts because of Mike’s determination to find Will which is spurred on by his love for him (platonic or romantic but love regardless) Its so annoying how people can’t look into the characters arcs on their own because once you do that you notice that a lot of Mike’s arc focuses on him repressing parts of himself to conform to what he thinks certain people want to see from him and he only lets these parts out when he’s with Will. Like you don’t even need to be a Byler to see Mike’s character is not solely about El it just takes having a brain and watching the show Jesus Christ.

I know exactly who you're talking about, I used to like his videos but after that one I had to unfollow because if you can't even understand the basics of the characters I don't see the value in following what you're saying about the show tbh

also if Mike's arc was only about his love for Eleven it should be completed now??? before season 5??? one of the main characters??? lmao

stranger things would have the most awfully written arc I've ever seen in a show I think...it wouldn't make any sense

and they wrote the Mothman relationship in a way that you literally can't save...

like I'm not even saying this because I ship byler I'm saying this objectively because they spent all the seasons just separating them and they never have good conversations that make you want to ship them because you are shown that they love each other.... unlike byler that has all of that!!!!

like I didn't start stranger things thinking it would have queer characters or queer relationships because I followed since 2016 and it was just a show about kids at the time so I didn't ship byler in s3 but I still heavily disliked how they handled Mike and El (because at the time I didn't understood why they were doing that to them)

I thought they were making them unlikable as a couple in s3 and I was right, they were making them unlikable because they are not compatible!!!!

also holy shit Will's arc is about accepting himself YES but it is also about believing that he's worthy to be loved too!

they made him say "I'm not gonna fall in love" in season 3 for this exact reason.... because he was already in love with Mike but what he meant with that was "I'm never going to be in a relationship because I'm gay"... they are setting up a surprise for him in season 5!

He believes that Mike already rejected him in the fight in s3 and now with the van speech and seeing Mike say ily to Eleven... 3 times!!!!

he doesn't think he has ANY chance with Mike... how do people think that this will just be resolved with Mike saying "sorry buddy but I love you only as a friend! "

that would be just awful storytelling and it wouldn't make any sense!

also they left open the lie about the painting

at the end of the season Mike and El literally don't talk to each other on screen.... after a freaking love monologue??? she didn't respond to him, they didn't even talk about their fight... like... cmon!!!!

HELLOOOO?!?!?! WHAT ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT?????

either byler is canon (and it is) or the stranger things writers are on HEAVY drugs

[purkinje-effect]

Asks 3, 4, 14, 19 and B for August?

Aaa, thank you so much for the ask! Sorry it took a few days for me to reply.

3: How does he put himself to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking)?

A mixture of reading and thinking. He organizes himself mentally to dogear his place in his tasks, so to speak, then winds himself down with devotional scripture. Mothman guides him, even in his dreams. Inversely, he tends to start his day journaling spiritual thoughts when he has them, including any from the night before that have survived his sleep. He's big on dialectics when it comes to his religious experiences, but it's not something he lets keep him awake.

4: How easy is it to gain his trust?

The easiest way to gain his trust is to demonstrate wilderness survival skills. Culturally the Followers of the Winged One have always been taught to respect the land. Even when he eventually travels outside Appalachia, he retains the philosophy that someone who can only take what they need from nature is far more likely to grasp how to conduct themselves, and it's one of many reasons he harbors a deep distrust for raiders no matter their outfit.

14: What animal does he fear most?

I wouldn't call his caution fear in most cases, but I do think he fears things despite his fascination and pursuit of them.

My initial instinct is to say the cannibal ghoul. They're fast and unpredictable, and no one can agree on the exact way they spring into being. He's not necessarily afraid of the idea he'd become one--sure, many stories suggest that eating other humans is what does it--but he's certainly afraid of being on the receiving end of one's fury.

I think he'd have more fear for a scorchbeast, though. A flight of them is what decimated his sect at the Lucky Hole. That's not to say he's without his reverence and admiration for the creatures: they're formidable and cunning. But unlike with stories of the cannibal ghoul, he's seen what a scorchbeast can do up close.

19: What is his favorite number?

Six. Six are His limbs. Six-sided are His lenses. Nuka-Cola came in six-packs... He's quite charmed when the number pops up.

B: What inspired me to create him?

I had to really jog my brain on this one because it's been so long. I think the compulsion to make him a Fallout version was early in 2017.

For most of my OCs, their Fallout incarnation is an AU. It started with Galen, then 'Choly joined in. My memory is a bit fuzzy on exactly why it was that I dragged August into Fallout with them, but I think the original thought was that I craved a trinity where Geek would be Pack aligned, 'Choly would be Operators aligned, and August would be Disciples aligned. The more I worked on August, the less it made sense for him to be a raider, though, and the more I wanted him to embody the amalgamation of occult worship that I have woven together from various snippets of canon. He started as a Child of Atom, but his faith's since picked up bits and pieces from across the franchise. Once 76 came out, I knew his origins had to be the Lucky Hole, and that he'd have been raised a Mothman cultist. He's the only character I've made in three games now, lol.

I had to ask my partner if he could remember any better than I could, and he ribbed me that Fallout August is so little like Augen that they're basically completely different characters. And really, he's not wrong, but at the same time I've put him in a completely different formative situation, and there's a lot of religious oddity at play in Fallout that simply has no analogue in my biopunk setting.

The question of what inspired me to create the original Augen, though, that's a completely different can of lamprey.

[campbluelake]

hell in a cell

Black and red streak past the group at blinding speed. There’s no time to redirect your attention from the demon, but there’s also no need; with a familiar angry screech, Max barrels into Vual with enough force to send them both rolling across to the ground, abruptly cutting the duke’s words short.

“Enough.”

Guess Mothman’s not a fan of evil monologues.

“Fiend– Pest– Worm–” There is nothing human in the voice that berates Duke Vual, nor of the accompanying screeching and roaring to come from both parties as they thrash and struggle against each other. “Sniveling, cowardly, vile thing–”

The demon breaks himself free of claw and talon, and appears further disheveled and off-balance. His suit no longer pressed and form beginning to show signs of injury, he lets out a growl and prepares for a battle with beings of his own size. Max roars again, eager to take advantage of the opportunity Malyce has afforded him.

But already, the smallest trace of blood can be seen matting a portion of Max’s fur from just this initial altercation. Vual’s not exactly weak. So before he pursues the duke further–

“With me, Niko.”

The lack of hesitation makes it seem he is fully confident that one of Hell’s pencil pushers can even the odds. (Because he is. For some reason.) Instead of waiting for any confirmation, Max takes off at high speed to throw himself at the demon again.

“...Eh?”

Niko, left standing alone when Max flies off, sort of awkwardly points at himself. 

“I’m– you know I’m not allowed to do that, right? I swear I explained this, I can’t fight a demon like that or I’ll super turbo die, I’ve already been stretching the rules–”

One of Hell’s pencil pushers is evidently far less confident in his ability to contribute to this fight than Max is on his behalf. Clearly unsure of what he should be doing, his wings flap uselessly once in a facsimile of Max’s much cooler departure and his hand tightens on the handle of his scythe. 

…And then the pendant he’s been wearing this entire time starts to pulse with a dull red light. He startles, blinking and then reaching down to pick it up, the confusion evident on his face. His clawed thumb digs into the side of it, where a visible hinge has appeared, and it pops open like a compact mirror. In fact… if you look closely, it is nearly a compact mirror, a red eye glowing and reflected on the top half. Niko frowns and then brings it up closer to his mouth. 

“...Sir?”

His voice takes on an undertone that hurts your ears slightly as he speaks into it, but the voice that pipes out in return is far worse in this regard, burning in the way you now know demonic voices to. It’s also worse because it’s, hm… how to put this… a bit annoying.

“Nicky! Hey, I’m sure you’re busy and all, but this is much more important than all that, so, hey–”

Niko already looks exhausted. “I am busy, sir.”

“Yes, I said that, now, you know, things are really exciting down here! I hope you have all your reports filed– well, of course you do, you wouldn’t slack like that, ha-ha! That’s why you’re my favorite, Nicky! Anyway, anyway, you know Vual?”

“Yes, I know V–”

“Of course you know Vual! Well, thanks to whatever’s been going on up there, we’ve finally decided that he’s gone too far and we’re going to make a move– so guess who’s going to coooooourt~!”

“Gee, sir, I’m not–”

“Ha-ha, not me, of course! Him! Anyway, that means restrictions are temporarily broken as we’ve got a warrant out for him, and you can’t be that busy, so do you think you could go round him up? Just add whatever power it takes to your invoices, okay? It shouldn’t be too bad!”

Niko looks wearily up at where Vual is engaged in combat with Max. Wearily, but also with a hint of confusion. And also wariness. He has to fight that? He’s a fucking salaryman. It’s not like he doesn’t want to get some revenge for his… friend, though. 

“You’ve got it, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“Of course you will, Nicky! That’s why you’re my favorite employee! Oh, by the way–”

Niko promptly hangs up before who you presume must have been the Barbatos you’ve heard mentioned a couple of times can go off on another tangent. He sighs and spins his scythe into a more ready position. 

“Okay, never mind, guess I’m fucking– allowed to do that after all, Max!”

His form ripples into a pool of shadow, dissolving into the ground and ripping across the grass to where Max and Vual fight. When he reforms, it’s with fangs bared and a slash of his scythe at the duke. 

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

Random thoughts about s5-s6

(before the promptathon starts, because afterwards ain’t nobody got time for Riverdale!)

This is a rant. It’s long. So so so long. I’ll probably regret not cutting half of it tomorrow. You will most certainly regret that I didn’t cut half of it today. Here we go anyway! Because sometimes one needs to vent in an inelegant way.

S5 characters grievances

(and by ‘characters’, I mean, of course, Jughead and Betty)

Betty Cooper. Listen, the girl has raging ptsd and a chronic case of Darkness™/Serial Killer Genes™ aka the writers’ only way of making the girl-next-door “complex”. I get it. I sympathise. BUT. When you make this her only character trait throughout the season (her only meaningful exchange has been with Jughead in 5x16) and then you run out of time and postpone resolving what’s supposedly her A plot (i.e. the TBK killer – the reason of her behaviour), it gets pretty tiring. Single-mindedness, isolation and a situation (trauma) that wasn’t supposed to matter in the first place (trauma never mattered in s1-4 nor will it matter in s6) does not make for a compelling story. Let me be clear: I don’t hate Betty, I don’t think she’s deranged, it’s just that her s5 storyline is exhausting.

Jughead Jones. To be fair, Jughead’s Mothman plot was the one I enjoyed the most in s5 until he fell into a hole (insert Teen Wolf joke here): the Rat King stuff was absolutely bananas and I loved it but it was also kind of a let-down.

The fact that he’s still the underdog and that he was the only character aware of his trauma and actively trying to deal with it, makes him a very sympathetic character for sure. BUT. As if making him an addict and a college drop-out (nothing wrong with not going to college – it was just ooc for Jughead) was not enough, the writers had to go and defecate all over his two most distinct characteristics: Jughead is a conscientious objector and a writer. Or, rather, he was before the time jump, because s5 Jughead can say “Go, Bulldogs!” unironically with no problem. As for being a writer … apparently, he’s a successful author for the span of 2 episodes (5x4-5x5) but then not only is he not allowed by the writers to attend his own effing book launch party (what the hell?!), he’s also presented for the rest of the season as someone who cannot even write without being under the influence (although, he’s shown typing on his computer almost in every episode, which is -narratively speaking- baffling). I’m not talking about his writer’s block. I’m talking about the fact that he’s shown not once but twice, as unable to finish a novel unless consuming maple mushrooms. Sure, Hemingway drank himself stupid but that is not the story Riverdale tells. And then Jughead-I-have-a-hard-on-for-justice-and-I’ve-had-my-story-stolen-while-in-Stonewall-Jones attempts to pass someone else’s manuscript for his own. A likely story! During what was his only (and completely unexpected) relapse into drinking no less. (I’m not saying the sole purpose of the relapse was that scene. But I’m also saying exactly that). Also: WHERE THE FUCK IS HIS MANUSCRIPT AND WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE IN RIVERDALE THAT CARES?! Once again, let me be clear: I don’t hate Jughead: I don’t think he’s a loser or a failure, it’s just that his s5 story line enrages me.

S6 trailer, how do I not love thee, let me count the ways.

It’s a 1 min-long trailer consisting of bursts of scenes lasting 1 to 3 secs, so there’s obviously no context, plus, there are at least 224 more minutes of storytelling we don’t see. Nevertheless, the following is what the cw thought would get me invested enough to watch. Boy, they couldn’t have been more wrong!

Things that will happen in s6:

1. HBIC Cheryl and her River Vixens. I mean, cult leader witch Cheryl and her synchronized female minions. [Whatever.]

2. Veronica and La Bonne Nuit 2.0 once again dealing with the devil, only this time he’s not a metaphorical one (Hiram) but Satan himself.  [Seen that, done that. Thrice, to be precise.]

3. Kevin. [Lord, give me strength.]

4. 2 seconds of Tabitha smashing a wall in her Pop’s uniform and a bit more time of Toni assisting Cheryl. I can only surmise that these secondary characters will continue their journey as secondary characters. [Excitement!] [Not.]

5. Sabrina Spellman. [Not amused.]

6. A musical number. [Facepalm.]

7. Jughead Jones, one half of the reason I watch this show, as the narrator. [Groundbreaking! Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’ll have his plot but it would have been infinitely more intriguing -at least to me- to hint at one during the trailer.]

8. Betty saying she wants nothing more than to have Archie’s baby. [It’s not just that I’m a bughead shipper, it’s that b*rchie is my notp. I don’t care about Archie. I’m not interested in his storylines, his uncle or his baby. I started watching Riverdale for 3 reasons: 1. Jughead’s promo pics that screamed insolent!sidecick who would either be insufferable (affectionate) or insufferable (derogative), 2. the fact that the actress who played my favourite Archie comics character (Betty) could actually act (not a given in teen tv shows), 3. that scene at Pop’s in 1x2 that promised me not Bughead exactly (I thought at the time that they would drag this out for ever Dawson-style) but at least an alternative to any plot Archie would have.]

9. Betty saying she want’s nothing more than to have Archie’s baby. [Once more with feeling but this time for Betty. As in: I do not care about pregnant Betty. Not with Archie. Not with Jughead. I’m not interested explicitly in a Bughead proposal, wedding or baby during the show -unless it’s the last episode and Bughead are breaking into the sheriff’s house with a baby in a sling, because @darknessaroundus wrote this in a fic and it has become a head canon ever since. Sleuthing Bughead, on the other hand? Investigative loving Bughead? Oh yes, please!]

(Yes, I understand there will be no babies, still the trailer thought the idea of one would be enticing).

Total of fucks given: 0/9

Thoughts on s6a

Theorising is a very perilous endeavor where Riverdale is concerned, as logic means nothing to the writers and canon can be rewritten at any time.

Though I’d be absolutely delighted if the au-that-isn’t-but-actually-is started in 5x17 (explosion at the mines), I think that 5x19 (Hiram’s bomb) is a “tidier” place plot-wise, as:

- it allows for Hiram’s departure

- it allows for the resolution of Chad’s plot and the Mothman’s plot (that were shown to have happened after the mine explosion – although, one can argue that these might have happened independently, because, you know, Riverdale)

- it allows for the town’s reincorporation

- it allows for not having to deal with establishing a career path for Jughead and Betty in the new season (which was obviously what the conversation with Waldo / the FBI graduation party was all about. You know, to have time to explore more b***s*** freely).

- it allows for 5x18 (at least, if I had been planning a musical since the beginning of the season, I’d be sad to sacrifice it as not real)

- it provides the opportunity for not one but two double-takes: one in 6x5 (“you thought b*rchie, veggie and jabitha were real couples? No! 6a didn’t happen!”) and then one more after the hiatus, in 6x6 (“lol! b*rchie, veggie and jabitha were real after all because 5x18-5x19 did happen!), which fits with these writers’ obnoxious m.o.

S6a being a The-Married-Life-With-Archie-inspired dream, seems more plausible than Cheryl unleashing a curse, as the latter would imply that the supernatural does exist in Riverdale and that Cheryl is part of it (and should continue to be part of it in 6b, which seems improbable). But also, because, from a logical point of view (although those don’t hold much water with Riverdale) Cheryl didn’t curse anyone: she recited someone else’s curse that -if real- was already in action. Abigail didn’t curse just Archibald, Jedediah and Beatrice but their descendants as well, thus rendering Cheryl evoking any curse redundant.

Bugvarchie can still happen of course, at least judging by where s5 was headed before 5x18, but as someone who thinks the journey is more important than the destination, I’m not interested enough to watch s6. At least, not with what we have been told so far. Maybe that’ll change as the episodes air. We’ll see.

[It goes without saying that all of the above are personal opinions/preferences. To each their own.}

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Could we perhaps get a mothman one?

Mothman:

Despite Mothman seeming to have no nose, he has quite the sneeze.

The build-up is simple enough, with his enormous eyes closing and his chest puff hair sticking slightly upward.

But the actual release is something both rare and strange.

“hh…hh’kyu!”

His sneezes reverberates slightly, echoing even in an open street.

On one early summer night, I saw not only the sneeze, but the many lightning bugs in the flower field light up at once, in perfect unison. A swirling, glowing pattern on his cheeks and wings beamed briefly before dulling again.

I’m not sure what exactly this means, but I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

The top allergens of the Mothman seem to be pollen, pesticides, and the many gnats that like to frequent the same lamps.

Speaking of lamps, I’ve seen several accounts of Mothman hitching after approaching a lamp too quickly. This suggests some sort of photosensitivity.

The nearby wildlife seem to respond to his sneezes as well, which I can only guess is because of his deep connection with nature.

As for illness, I have only seen one account.

I was sitting on my porch during a storm - I enjoy listening to the pitter patter of the rain - when I saw a rustling in the foliage.

Before I knew it, Mothman, a big, hulking thing up close, was dragging himself to my well-lit porch, soaked to the bone.

He took no notice of me, but instead collapsed next to my rocking chair with a wheeze.

I was afraid to move, so I simply let the cryptid dry under my lamp.

Fifteen minutes later, he stirred. He had just realized I was there, and took a defensive position near the corner of the porch. Mothman has never liked people; I can imagine why, considering most violently shoo him away or try to capture him.

I didn’t coax him to me, nor did I chase him off. I simply turned up the fire in my lamp and sat back in my chair.

Mothman settled after a moment, wrapping himself in his wings and rocking slightly back and forth - either to generate warmth or to comfort himself.

I had fallen half-asleep when suddenly, without so much as a sniffle, he let out an absolutely vicious sneeze…more than just his usual, kitten-like faire.

It startled me awake, which scared Mothman into scampering off into the darkness…but not before taking my lamp.

I’m glad he has it, personally. He needs it a lot more than I do.

[thatoneao3writer]

Have some 💙!

Since Saint is infamous in other worlds, does this mean Puffy and Skeppy have heard of him? Cause I have ideas.

Skeppy’s heard the name Saint as a vague bogyman, more like mothman or dracula than anything else. He’s a legend kids whisper about to scare each other, and conspiracy theorists make spacetube videos about, but not someone you really believe in. Meaning when he finding out badboyhalo was Saint changed very little for him, except he went and bought one of those shirts that said “Crypid’s bf” on the front.

However, before Badboyhalo told him, before they were together, Skeppy actually did the most damage, on a movie night turned sleep over thanks to a power outage. The titans and HIVE were all telling scary stories, and Skeppy cheerfully recounted the myth of “Saint” to the others. Skeppy noticed Bad shut down during it, and assumed he was scared, promising Bad he’d protect him from any “Saints” that came by. He didn’t understand why Bad just got more upset after that. Or why Puffy hit him. But when Bad’s powers go out of control to bring their scary stories to life, Skeppy can’t help but feel guilty.

Puffy in contrast, has seen evidence of Saint. Nothing major, but she once traveled through a galaxy he devistated, heard the rumors of the “Saint” the terror of the survivors, and she knew for a fact that he was real. Trying to rectify that devistation of that event with her gentle friend is quite the challenge for her.

However, before the reveal, she was far more sensitive to the myth and how it negatively it causes Demons like Badboyhalo to be precieved in space, so she kept it quiet. When Skeppy tells it to a clearly uncomfortable Bad, she hits him to try and get him to stop, assuming it was thr stereotype upsetting him. Later down the night, when its revealed the living nightmare was just Bad’s powers acting up to his own fear, she realizes this fear is far more personal, and does what she can to try and show Bad she supports him. She doesn’t connect the dots exactly, but she does start to see the them.

Ooohh!!! These are awesome Ghostbur Anon! Canon now ><

[elsewhereuniversity]

By Chance Prosper the Victors

There is a bike messenger who might give you a ride, you’ve probably seen her zip past in the middle distance–weaving effortlessly through obstacles. The bike whirrs like moth wings against a screen. Feel free to wave if she passes closer; although she probably won’t acknowledge you. 

The bike is a strange little thing, sleek yet a jumble, a hodgepodge of magics and materials; willed together by someone who knew very well how a bike was put together. And yet– and yet it is out of sync with itself and the world: her legs pump, the wheels turn, the distance covered makes no sense. The only metal upon its frame is its brightly polished bell that rings out further than you think it should.

But bike riding may have come into fashion with the Gentry since the equestrian ban so you might need more identifying markers to know if it is safe to accept the ride. There are two pheasant feathers glued to her helmet with the ends covered by a mothman sticker. The messenger’s outfit sits on the boundary waters between business casual, the Tour de France, and the days of the velocipede. 

When she offers a ride the smile will reach her eyes behind the heart shaped glasses. But it is a smile given by a person who’s had their humanity stolen; a person who lost the buffer between two destructive forces and held on to herself. A person who carefully filled the humanity-shaped void by training inhuman behaviors to fill in the gaps.

She offers you a ride because you will need it. It is an offer freely given but only once. You will sit or be towed behind her and no matter how bad of a rider you normally are you will not fall off. She might have to make stops to deliver messages to the Courts or other recipients–Do Not get off.

There is a wrap the color of a misty morning in her front basket. She will drape it on your shoulders. You have never seen her wear it. It is yours to wear for the duration of the ride. But remember to return it. If she offers it for longer–until you have arrived safely where a bike cannot go, or if it has slipped your mind, deliver it to the nearest lost and found.

If you have properly returned her wrap you can see her in rain, snow, and gloom of night on her messenger rounds–not always alone but usually. She will acknowledge you as she passes with a double ring of the bell. 

She will not offer a second ride without you arranging it beforehand; you have already been delivered.

🚲🦋🚲

There is a merchant who will buy up bad debts….Not student loans but the dregs of deals gone sour when one party or another has reneged and disappeared completely. If you’ve traded a summer’s day for one more night to study and you lost your time but did not regain it, he might appear so he can offer you a deal.

He looks like a slice of the silver screen from the days when it was young and electric. His voice pivots from smooth to sharply urgent like a violin in a master’s hand. He moves like a storm swift and terrible yet gently roiling.

Expect kindness and cruelty in equal measure like the last coffee of finals week.It is a service not a sacrifice he is making. 100 years to call in a debt is a good investment, and finding two debts that cancel each other is a puzzle he is winning.

If you’ve returned from whatever disappearance that made it impossible to hold your end of the bargain and he shows up with a tarnished business card and says let’s talk. It is in your best interests to meet with him unless you want your debt to gain interest.

He is fair if not exactly just. He will arrange things so that you will be able to pay. But there are rules to business and economics, just as there are rules to Elsewhere and there must be at least observances of the rules.

If you have a bad debt you are eager to divest yourself from you’ll often find him window shopping in the Goblin Market. He rarely buys anything there, and will absolutely not discuss what he is looking for.

But he will stop and hear you out–with a level of patience that reminds you this person is not human and you aren’t quite sure what he is. If he is interested he will ask to arrange a second meeting. If not he will bid you a good day.

But, if instead you offer a bad deal or act like an entitled customer he will disappear like a cheshire cat with the hollow grin of a crescent moon. You might see him again kicking it on the back of a bike–but it’s best not to interrupt them. Besides, you’ll never catch up.

 And he won’t give you a second offer, you no longer have anything he wants.

💸 📽 💸

There is an artist who buys out the bad habit vendor at the end of every semester. They are referred to as Victor. That is also the absolute worst day to ask them what they do with the bad habits.

The best days to ask them are in the midpoint of a break. The second best days are when you need one of the hoarded habits. You will probably learn a bit too much if you ask them what they do with the bad habits.

Victor is a regular at the Goblin Market and at nearby farmer’s markets, buying materials and selling art. They often run a face and body painting booth at local festivals. Victor also makes appearances at various art workshops no matter the discipline.

You might also encounter Victor in the wild dumpster diving and freecycling. They have a trike with an antique trunk in the back where they stash their finds. Some of it gets upcycled for their day job at Second Chance Goods, the thrift shop that they often are behind the counter of sketching and notating wildly in their workbook.

Victor’s charms are simple little things with clearly defined uses and drawbacks; sturdy, reliable, and functional. They can cursebreak with the best of them, but would rather refer you to someone who actively makes that their calling. But neither of those things are Victor’s chosen art.

So if you get a chance to ask Victor what they do with bad habits what will they answer? Well probably, Victor will infodump on the nature of habits and how they are tied to neurochemistry and culture and all the little memories tied to that habit that can remind a person what it’s like to inhabit a body.

Because some people do need reminding.

Victor builds bodies in their studio attached to the back of the store on the weekends. Each a unique blend of materials and magic that fulfills the needs of someone who needs a second chance.

Each one is a gamble for Victor; a chance not a certainty. A hope that each person will make enough of themselves to have enough to pay. A kindness that might be repaid or might be passed forward. 

If you or your acquaintance needs to commission Victor go around the back of the store after hours to the studio, there is a bikerack with the trike chained to it. There’s an outdoor sitting area three matching chairs–do not sit there, you will be offered alternative seating.

You will be reminded of how painfully–awfuly human Victor is when they ask what you need. They will ask so many questions–answer them to the best of your ability. They will offer you a discount if you can source some of the materials. That offer is in good faith, but don’t be afraid to reject what you cannot risk.

You might see the bad deals merchant chat to Victor on their break from the store; he never seems to buy any debts from them. If you approach he will dance away with a wry grin and say something about not buying any debts in relation to Victor.

But know this Victor does not offer third chances; the life of an artist is a lean thing and there are always people in need.

🧰🧠🧰

There are three roommates who live in the apartment above Second Chance Goods. On the rare occasions when all of them are home you can hear inebriated enthusiasm accompanying the chorus to ABBA’s Take a Chance on Me. If you were to yell at them to quiet down you might see a messenger finally off her bike open a window and yell back at you to mind your own business; only for her to be pulled back in by Victor, with the window snapping meticulously shut.

x

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

Like A Moth to a Flame- Pt. 1

Alright. So the incredible @miscellaneous-bnha pumped out some awesome Mothman Mirio HC’s for me last night because these past few days have been... interesting to say the least. So in return for the excellent meal, I’m dropping the first chapter of my own Mothrio fic! Smut is coming soon, don’t you worry.

————————————————

You’re startled awake by a loud crash in the alleyway outside your apartment, followed by the unmistakable sound of trash cans and recycling bins being knocked over. You sit bolt upright in bed, an icy shiver running up your spine as your brain conjures up images of bloodthirsty axe-murderers and psychopathic serial killers. Groping blindly for your phone, you pull it from under the pillows and dial 911, waiting with bated breath as your finger hovers over the call button. But when there’s no sound of breaking glass or your front door being kicked in, you relax slightly and slowly slide out from under the covers. Carefully, you pad out of the bedroom and make your way to the living room. Moonlight streams through the windows, creating soft, blueish squares on the hardwood floor. As you tiptoe closer to the main window, you look down into the alleyway below, your third floor apartment giving you the perfect vantage point. Overturned cans and trash bags litter the pavement with some of the bags appearing to have been ripped open and their contents strewn everywhere.

“Raccoons?” You think to yourself, before you notice something moving out of the corner of your eye. Something much bigger than a raccoon. The alleyway is capped off by a faded wooden fence, effectively turning it into a dead end. And in the light of the full moon you can see something or someone crouching in the corner where weathered wood meets worn brick. You’re too far away to make out any distinguishing features and they appear to be wearing some kind of cloak or shroud, hiding the mystery lurker’s face from view. Your first instinct is to call the police, as you still haven’t ruled out the possibility of thieves and murderers. But as you watch the figure shrink father into the shadows and notice the tremble that runs through their body, you can’t help but feel a twinge of pity for them. You don’t exactly live in the most glamorous part of town and it wasn’t uncommon to see your neighbors or their friends wandering the streets, drunk or stoned beyond reason. Hell, you’d helped them back home once or twice before, earning their gratitude for keeping them out of trouble with the law along with a bit of compensation. Usually in the form of food, drink, or a paltry sum of cash. So you choose the self-sacrificial route, slipping on a robe and good shoes before pulling up a rideshare app. You also take the liberty of arming yourself with a frying pan as you pass by the kitchen (you’re helpful, not stupid) before grabbing your keys and heading out the door.

You scurry down the stairs and through the back door leading to the alley, pulling your robe a little tighter in the wake of the chilly night air. The lurker is maybe 20 yards away, still cowering in the shadows and obscured by their outer attire. There’s a strange, keening noise coming from them, akin to a dog’s whine or a child crying.

“Hello?” You softly call out, taking a few steps forwards. The noise stops and they freeze at your words. “Are you alright? Do you need some help?”

Suddenly, the moon moves behind a cloud, throwing the alleyway into an eerie, inky darkness. You quickly pull up the flashlight on your phone and point it in the direction of the shrouded figure. You take a few more steps forward, your grip on the frying pan tightening instinctually. They begin to slowly move out from under their makeshift shelter, raising their head up to look at you. Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t decide whether to step closer or back away. The face staring back at you is nothing short of handsome, a bit boyish yet perfectly framed by a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. He has a shock of blonde hair, bright as spun gold and sticking up in a wild, windblown manner. If you’d met someone like him on the street, you’d have sworn he was an actor or even a model. But it’s his eyes that give you real pause. They’re inhuman, round and glassy like twin marbles, and so vibrantly blue they rival the sky and sea in color. You can’t see any whites, or pupils for that matter, and the light from your flashlight makes them gleam like shards of broken glass. Just looking at them, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight while your skin prickles with unease.

“W-w-who… wh-what…” You stammer, taking a cautious step back. The man, if you can call him that, suddenly shifts onto one knee before rising to his full height, those otherworldly eyes still firmly locked on yours. He’s massive, easily 8 feet tall if not more, and corded with rippling muscle from head-to-toe. His too-long limbs end in clawed hands and feet, caked with dirt and what you hope isn’t blood. A ring of equally golden hair (or maybe fur?) encircles his neck like a mane, tapering down his defined chest and abs. You notice with abject horror that he’s naked as what you thought was a cloak unfurls to reveal a pair of enormous, insect-like wings. They span the width of the alleyway, brushing against the brick walls on either side as the creature gives them an experimental flap. He blinks once and cocks his head, emitting a low, rumbling noise that snaps you out of your gawkish reverie.

You let loose a blood curdling scream and turn on your heel to run back to the safety of your apartment. In fact, you turn too quickly, tripping and sending yourself crashing to the pavement while the frying pan skitters off into the darkness. You flip onto your bottom and scrabble backwards, brandishing the light of your phone at the monster before you. But instead of charging or swiping at you, the beast lets out a high-pitched squeal of its own before hunkering back down in the safety of its wings. You don’t have time to worry or care about this odd reaction as you scramble to your feet and make a break for the alley door. Throwing it open with a bang, you bolt up the stairs to your apartment, fumbling to get the the key out of your robe pocket and keep hold of the phone in your hands. You keep looking over your shoulder as you jam it into the lock, expecting the demonic being to appear behind you any second, until you finally hear the telltale click and burst through the door. You slam it shut (neighbors and noise complaints be damned!) and run into the kitchen to grab a large knife from the sink. Blood is roaring in your ears and you’re breathing heavily as you lean against the counter, keeping one eye on the front door and one on the windows. 

But no sound comes to indicate the creature is pursuing you or if he’s even nearby. Still wielding the knife, you creep over to the living room window and peer around the frame. The moon has come out from behind the clouds, illuminating the alley once more. To your utter shock, the beast is still there, cowering like a wounded animal once again. After a few tense minutes you see him peer out from his self-made cocoon, flaxen hair practically glowing in the moonlight as he looks around. Slowly, almost timidly, the brute uncurls from his fetal position and stands upright. He’s no less terrifying than before, but at least you’re observing from a safe distance this time. You watch as he lumbers forward, leaning down to paw at the spot you had been standing in moments before. He scratches at the concrete, occasionally pausing to sniff his hand before resuming his work. You can only imagine what’s running through his mind, but it can’t be anything good. He seems to grow tired of this activity after a minute or two and begins to pick over the debris at his feet, sifting through it almost like he’s looking for something. Morbid curiosity compels you to strain your neck a little farther, squinting to see what the beast is doing. After a few moments of searching the creature’s wings flap excitedly and he straightens up with something in his claws: your frying pan!

“What the hell…?” You breathe, watching him turn it over his hands, the silver metal glinting cheerfully in the moonlight. He then brings the handle up to his nose, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. You’re about to let out another colorful expletive when his head suddenly snaps up, eyes wide open and staring up at your apartment window. You gasp and hide behind the wall, unconsciously holding your breath as you silently pray the creature didn’t spot you. When nothing happens, you chance another peek out the window. He’s gone, the spilled garbage in the alleyway the only evidence that something had been out there.

“Fuck.” You curse on a shaky exhale, dropping the knife with a clatter and rubbing your temples. “What the fuck just happened? Am I going insane? There’s no way that thing was real!”

You steal another cautious glance into the alley, unsure if you’re hoping to see the monster again or not. But the alley is silent now, save for a few stray cats that have shown up to inspect the trashy feast. With a trembling hand you pick up the knife and carry it into your bedroom, not even bothering to disrobe as you place it on your bedside table and curl up on the mattress. Sleep eventaully overpowers you, but your dreams are haunted by shadowy, winged creatures with glowing blue eyes. You wake up utterly exhausted the next morning, unsure if you’d really seen something last night or if you’d just had a vivid nightmare. Unsure that is, until you can’t find your frying pan anywhere. 

[pronouncingitwang]

jon, melanie, and georgie friendship | 1.5K words | basically just. how jon finds out melanie’s bi | for the @jonsimsbipride prompt “solidarity”

“Martin? Are you still there?” Georgie calls from the couch at a volume that makes Jon wince.

Martin’s fallen asleep on the loveseat, his face smushed into the arm of the chair as he snores. For the last few minutes, Jon has been looking at the rise and fall of his chest with something resembling awe. Even a year after the world began again, Jon finds it difficult to believe that they’re safe, that he can just watch Martin without needing to watch over him.

“Pretty sure those are his snores I’m hearing right now,” says Melanie, and Georgie whispers a quick apology.

Recovery has been hard, but being roommates with the Qing-Barkers helps, at least sometimes. Georgie described their shared living situation as “living in group therapy” on more than one occasion, which is true on hard days. Melanie described it as “being back in uni again, but mostly in a good way?” which is true on better days. Martin maintains that it’s worth it for The Admiral and Melanie’s service dog, Mothman, alone, which is true on every day.

Today is a good day. There’s been a lot of laughter, from when Georgie and Melanie had met him and Martin at the airport to telling them honeymoon stories over dinner to now, when they’re all lying around doing nothing, and jet lag has rendered Jon too tired to drag himself to bed.

“Come and cuddle with us instead, Jon,” Melanie stage-whispers from beside Georgie. After checking that Martin is comfortable one more time, Jon agrees.

Melanie is snuggled under a blanket with a pink, purple, and blue yarn mix. Martin had gifted the blanket to Georgie for her birthday, even though Jon, I swear everyone gives their friends pride stuff when they don’t know what else to get them; are you sure it’s not obvious that I didn’t have a better idea? It's warm and soft, and by now, practically a household staple.

Jon sits down on the couch and, after checking that she’s okay with it, rests his cheek against Melanie’s shoulder. At first contact, Melanie lets out a small noise of surprise. “You shaved,” she says. “Georgie, you’re supposed to tell me about major life changes like this! How stupid does he look?”

Georgie hums. “Not too bad. I’d say… no more stupid than usual?”

“Damn,” Melanie says. “Why the smooth face, Jon?”

Georgie opens her mouth, but stops herself to let Jon explain.

“Oh,” he shrugs, “I just tend to shave whenever I have to deal with airport security. Less likely to be stopped for suspected terrorism and all.”

“Ah.” Melanie clicks her tongue. “Makes sense. Sucks, though.” She shifts, resting her head on top of Jon’s. “I guess it’s a good thing that Big Heathrow”—Georgie giggles from the other side of the couch—“doesn’t know how the apocalypse came about, then.”

Jon laughs. The part of his mind that wonders if going along with this particular joke about the apocalypse is a sign of developing emotional distance or just a coping mechanism perks its ears up, but he ignores it. “No, I’d imagine the Daily Mail would have a field day with that one.”

“I wonder how they’d spin your evil boss’s involvement,” Georgie, who steadfastly refuses to use Elias’s name, muses. “Innocent bystander? Secret lover?”

Melanie makes a retching sound, which Jon makes back at her. Melanie repeats it at a slightly higher pitch. This continues for at least a minute, before they lapse back into laughter. It really is like uni again.

“Hey, Jon,” Georgie ventures after a spot of silence, mischief coloring her voice, “Kiss, marry, kill: Big Heathrow, Daily Mail, evil boss.”

“Georgina.” It’s difficult to have a staring contest with Georgie’s body pillow in the way, but Jon manages to aim his glare right at the space between Georgie’s eyes. Georgie doesn’t back down, just smiles sweetly and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Fine,” he sighs, resting his head back down onto Melanie’s shoulder. “Fine. Kill Elias again. Marry… marry Heathrow? I think it would have a tolerable personality. Which leaves…” he sighs again, “kissing the Daily Mail. Christ.”

“Bad choice,” Melanie says. “They’re basically the definition of kiss and tell. Imagine the scandal!”

“Alright, fine.” Jon says, not awake enough to debate but curious enough to challenge. “Same options. What would you pick?”

“Easy,” Melanie says. “First, obviously, I’m stabbing Elias to death. Second, I’m pretty sure Heathrow sells toothpaste, so it would be the least unpleasant to kiss. Third, and most importantly, I’m going to use my marriage to the Daily Mail to edit the articles it publishes and slowly radicalize the old white women of the UK.”

Georgie gives a few snaps of approval, and even Jon has to admit she has some points.

“There aren’t many situations where I’d divorce you willingly, Melanie,” Georgie says, “but if it was for this, I would understand.”

Melanie laughs. “I appreciate your support, babe. Your turn.”

Georgie deliberates for a while, then winces. “Sorry, Melanie. I’m going to have to go with Jon on this one.”

“Ha!” Jon says.

“I just don’t think I could deal with being married to the Daily Mail.”

“Cowards, both of you!” Melanie exclaims loudly, but is quickly shushed by both Jon and Georgie with a “Martin!” She continues in a quieter voice, “And before you say anything, Georgie, I know that’s not actually possible for you, but I’m sticking by my words.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe this. The heartbreak. The betrayal. From my own wife, and right after she said she would willingly divorce me…”

“Stop taking my words out of context!”

“Can’t, my new spouse Mx. Mail is a bad influence”(—“Which is exactly why it's better to marry Heathrow instead,” Georgie interjects—)“but at least it’d side with me against Jon.”

Jon grins. “It’s the biromanticism, Melanie. It gives me and Georgie the same taste.”

At this, Melanie sputters. “Nuh-uh. No way. Absolutely no way. Your bad choices are the results of your own bad opinions. Don’t bring me into it.”

Melanie continues to speak, but Jon is no longer listening. He feels, suddenly, like he’s missing something important. “What?” he asks, causing Melanie to pause. “How have I brought you into it?”

“Well… you said being bi makes you choose the worse option,” Melanie says, which just confuses Jon more. Then, “Wait, Jon, you do know I’m bisexual, right?”

Ah. That would do it.

“Not… not quite.”

“Oh my god,” Georgie says. “Seriously?”

“You—I’ve only ever heard you call yourself gay!” Jon cries, giving Melanie and Georgie the chance to shush him with “Martin!”

Melanie shakes her head mournfully. “I’ve been your friend—okay, not quite that, but I’ve known you—for years!”

“I was trying to save the world during most of those years!”

“You also had spooky all-knowing powers,” Georgie adds.

Jon feels his leg begin to bounce. “Well, yes, but I was actively trying not to use them on people. Checking someone’s sexuality would be a gross violation of—”

“It’s okay, Jon,” Melanie says soothingly, “I know you wouldn’t do that.” There is quiet for a few seconds as Jon takes a few deep breaths. Then, Melanie says in a wryer tone, “Jon. One of my sets of prosthetic eyes is literally the bi pride flag. I know I don’t wear it that often, but…”

“I’ve only seen it once, in bad lighting, and… I don't know, I thought maybe you were just being supportive!”

“Oh my god,” Georgie says again, her voice muffled by the pillow she’s buried her face in. Jon feels like burying his face into a pillow himself.

“This is awful,” Jon groans.

“Stop being biphobic, Jon,” Melanie says.

“Stop being bi-aced, Jon,” Georgie says, which is unfortunately quite good.

“Fine,” Jon says. “This isn’t awful. It is, instead, wonderful.” He means the last sentence to come out begrudging, but it sounds more sincere than anything else. Jon blames his emotions. Now that the initial surprise has worn off, warmth is beginning to replace it. It’s not that he’s particularly starved for bi friends, but it’s nice, having one more thing that ties him and Melanie together.

“Thank you.” Melanie gives Jon a haughty sniff, but she smiles as she does it.

Jon’s neck is beginning to strain, but Melanie is still resting her head on top of his, and he doesn’t want to bother her. He closes his eyes and tries to focus his attention elsewhere. He can take a few minutes more.

“I just realized something,” Melanie says. “Jon, I’m literally under a bi pride blanket right now.” Georgie starts to giggle again.

“I’m asleep,” says Jon.

“Yeah, under a bi pride blanket that I, too, am currently under. Because I’m bi.”

“I’m double asleep,” says Jon.

“And I’m bi,” says Melanie.

“I know it’s useless to ask, but is there any chance we can forget about this and pretend I’ve known all along?”

“No,” Melanie and Georgie say in unison.

“Great,” Jon replies, and hides his smile in his bisexual friend’s shoulder.

[emmettmc-heart-y]

Emmett’s Unsolved Mysteries

Being a vampire is cool but living with the Cullens can get boring. So Emmett has made it his life goal to solve some of the world’s unsolved mysteries.

He convinced Rosalie to move to Texas in the 60’s, exclusively so he could solve the JFK assassination mystery.

He has decoded a solid 50% of the Voynich manuscript.

He is certain that he will find DB Cooper’s identity.

“Carlisle, was Shakespeare real?”

He spent a solid 5 years underwater trying to figure out what is going on in the Bermuda Triangle.

He goes to West Virginia at least once a year to try and see Mothman

He is determined to figure out Jack the Ripper’s identity.

He got personally upset when Houdini passed away and he realized none of the Cullens had met him. (He also tried to learn all of his tricks- these are the magic tricks Edward mentioned in the Midnight Sun rough draft).

He has made it his life goal to find the lost city of Atlantis.

He’s convinced that Carlisle knows who created Stonehenge because he’s “old and from England”.

He’s pretty sure he met Amelia Earhart at one point in his human life so he takes that as a sign to figure out exactly what happened to her.

He has gone on several Bigfoot hunting missions.

The Cullens are on constant Emmett watch due to the fact that he has tried multiple times to travel inside a black hole.

While he already wanted to find the Loch Ness monster, this goal only became solidified after Renesmee was born.

“Babe, hear me out, what if we spend our next honeymoon looking for Cleopatra and Mark Antony’s tomb... What do you mean that’s not romantic enough? They were buried together.”

On multiple occasions he has tried to launch himself into the sky to catch a flying saucer.

(I decided to switch things up and make one long post instead of sporadic ones bc I kept forgetting, so if you feel like you’ve seen some of these before thats why. Also big thank you again to @bellaskhakis @poplockanddropfortwilight @twilightslut and @volturi-or-die for helping come up with these ideas.)

[axemetaphor]

im definitely not ripping off my friend by making a list of au ideas i have no siree //gonna slap this under a readmore cause i. well i say a lot. all of the time. i tried so hard to format this Good but tumblr fucked me up i am so sorry

so first-off i know i already have one WIP AU (Auckland) on ao3 so i wont talk about That one cause like. spoilers. i actualyl have it like 80% created so its likely gonna truly get finished for once and i dont wanna ruin shit

the other one ive posted about is something me and ben (catgirlrepublic) have worked on together its not at all close to done or anything but it's. a fun little crossover. Between jdate and my fuckinuhm. Original characters story “Untitled Villains Project”. the sketches of the comic version ive started is actually my pinned post 👉👈 its like the first chunk of the story, i think half of part 1? yea.

Tldr john fucking Somehow is able t oget into contact with a certain curious scientist from another reality who’d just love to study the Soy Sauce, most certainly not for her own nefarious purposes

John and Dave meet up with the scientist, her name is Boss, and her lab assistant, Toxic, and after a bit of a preliminary Vibe Check where john determines her trustworthy (which Dave doesnt agree with,) the two agree to be taken to the world UVP is set in. from there they stay in Boss’s lab (big old fucking abandoned military lab). John and Toxic are fast friends due to mutual love-of-chaos. John n Dave get to fuckin, camp out on an air mattress.

The day after they arrive, the two get split up, not exactly intentionally; big plot points of UVP are liek. Fueled by Boss sending Toxic to go fetch her “research materials,” which are usually important artifacts

Fuckin side note i guess i have to explain my dumb bullshit: Boss’s, uh, field of expertise so to speak is actually fckin, basically the scientific study of magic and superpowers n shit like that. This shit’s all real in that world. Toxic’s got fuckin superpowers, so do 4 other main characters, whatever. It’s got a bit to do with spirituality, iss Boss’s hypothesis. So she has Toxic fetch important artifacts that might have “energies” to them. The thing is actually way more fuckin complictated than that, this is just Boss’s initial hypothesis.

Motherfucking anyways. So Boss gives Toxic a job to do, and John get excited about how Cool that sounds, and ends up going with Toxic, leaving Boss and Dave alone. Neither is thrilled about this. But Dave and Boss get to have a bit of conversation (while Toxic and John are off bonding and having a good time) and come to a… mutual grudging understanding of some kind. They still dont like each other though lmao

Theres gonna be deeper shit going on but we havent sorted it out yet/tbh havent like Written For It in a while but i still like thinking about it a lot lol

Also pretty sure our endgame is john and dave steal toxic and bring them back with em lmao boss is kind of not nice and toxic would most certainly be better off in Undisclosed. Actually theyd fucking love it. Theyd become a local cryptid im sure. Undisclosed’s mothman is a teleporting spike baby.

I have. Another crossover AU that i might. Post something about for halloween? Maybe? If i have it finished?

Crosses over into, you guessed it, another one of my original-character projects. God, am i vain or something?

I promise this is just because i think blue and dave should get to team up to beat up some monsters

Quick briefing on my fuckinuh. Original character story, this one doesnt have a name (yet? Idk lol my work never actually goes anywhere sso who gives a shit). It centers around two grim reapers, Red (26, bi woman) and Blue (22, aroace agender asshole). In this reality or whatever, grim reapers function kind of like low-level office workers. They get told who’s going to die + when by some middle-management types, and upper management only involve themselves when punishment needs to be doled out. These Higher-Ups can be seen as analogous to Korrok; they’re decidedly not human, never were, and fucking terrifyingly powerful. Additionally, grim reapers are sort of .. designed to be “background noise” people. In reality theyre supernatural beings and, uh, look Real Fuckin Weird (the whole deal has a neon aesthetic im terrible at drawing uwu) but most humans just perceive them like extras in a movie. A body’s there but the camera’s not focused on it.

To the narrative: the shit starts when Red n Blue get relocated to Undisclosed. Relocation is something that just happens every now and then to reapers; they usually work in teams, but they get split up into different cities to avoid any strong bonds forming (a counter-union strategy from the Higher-Ups).

Red, Blue, John and Dave end up running into each other for the first time in a McDonalds where John n Dave are getting some 4am “hey, we just survived another horrific monster fight” celebration burgers. John and Dave are the only two people who can see how… strange Red and Blue are. Nobody else notices.

John unintentionally pisses Blue off, leading to Blue whacking him upside the head with a dildo bat. They all four get kicked out of McDonald’s. Dave and Red both are less than thrilled

Blue and John end up resolving their differences, somehow. Red and Dave briefly bond over their dumbass best friends being, well, dumbasses. They all part ways amicably.

somehow-or-other (idk yet) they end up running into each other a few more times, and eventually john invites them over to his place, and the four (plus Amy now!) get to know each other a little better

while there, Blue gets a text about some guy who's gonna die and John offers to drive them to where that's gonna go down. they take him up on the offer and get to have a bit of one-on-one conversation

after that ordeal though Blue has had Enough of people and bails, leaving John to head home alone

theres a sort of mirror-development going on with the five of em. Red, John, and Amy would all like everyone to get along, though theyre a bit tentative about it (John moreso than the other two, actually, jsut cause. well Red n Blue could still be Sauce Monsters). Dave and Blue on the other hand do Not like people enough for this shit, and Dave's not unconvinced theyre Sauce Monsters. he will not trust them until proven he should

the story's kinda nebulous but i got an idea for some Shit going down that involves both Sauce Monsters and also the Higher-Ups to have some fuckin absolute chaos go down.

Oops! All Trans

Everybody is transgender. Everyone

Ive actually workshopped this one both with ben (catgirlrepublic) and ghost (ghost-wannabe) lmao its a fun lil concept ive had from the get-go cause i mean. What’s an internet tran gonna do other than hit all their favourite media with the Everyone’s Trans beam

Dave transitioned post-high school and faked his death for it. People go missing in Undisclosed all the damned time, after all. He moved to the next city over, transitioned fully, then came back as a completely new man. Yes i know this doesnt exactly fit with the “everyone knows David from high school” thing alright, hush.

Anytime anyone brings up John’s old best friend (pre-transition Dave) John throws an entire fit like an overdramatic grieving widow. Full-on sobbing “why would you bring her up?! I miss her so much—” to the point that people just stop bringing up because Jesus Christ That Sure Is Uncomfortable KJHGFDS.

This is a scheme he and Dave came up with prior to Dave leaving, though Dave hadnt exactly anticipated John putting on this much of a performance about it— but it’s stopped Dave from ever having tto hear his deadname again, so hey.

Amy transitioned sometime in middle school/early high school. Her family was super supportive and loved her a ton and most people just know her as Amy. she was super shy her whole life really so. Yeah. people just dont think to bring it up lmao also i Feel Like big jim would absolutely wallop anyone who gave her trouble of any kind

John’s nonbinary (genderfluid specifically) and not exactly Interested in transitioning ? like hes fine with how he is. mostly.

he came out to Dave in high school but hes not out to anyone else exactly. Maybe his bandmates. Probably any other trans person in Undisclosed knows, too, cause theyre safe to tell lmao. Johns mostly a “he/him out of convenience” kinda nb who’s cool with any pronouns but does prefer they/them most. Dave and Amy use they/them when the trio are alone

Also this is a totally self-indulgent caveat that i think would be great, Dave’s actually agender but because he's transmasc and transitioned when he thought there were really only two options, and being Boy at least felt less weird than being Girl, he just kind of assumed he was a dude. It’s only through a lot of (like fucking years and years hes probably in his 30s/40s when he puts 2 and 2 together on this one) talks about gender with John that he realizes he actually feels like No Gender. Masc aesthetic with none gender.

I Just Think It’d Be Neat Is All Okay

Also Amy came out to Dave about being trans early on in them seeing each other and his response was to get very nervous before blurting out “me too” and then just being too embarrassed to talk about it for the rest of the day. Hes got a lot of hangups on talking about it actually it takes years for him to get comfortable in that

by contrast when Amy comes out to John about it his response is to yell “EYYY ME TOO” and give her a big ol hug lmao

I think itd be neatt if Amy ran a like. Transfem help/advice blog on tumblr. Kind of helped-with by John who can give her transfem nb insight for certain asks. I also just think that would be neat.

Cowboy AU - i put this one last cause its got drawings to it actually. Theyll be at the bottom

Basically just. Hey you ever watched a western. I think they look neat

This is another one me n ben have come up with lol

The soy sauce and all that shit still exist, im not sure where korrok fits in yet but ill figure it out

Theres no real like solid narrative yet ? but heres the barebones of everybody’s arcs.

John

Johns an absolute troublemaker, Of Course. Hes wanted in several towns for absolutely stupid shit. Hes a loner who shows up, causes chaos, gets drunk, does some drugs, runs away if people get too mad at him

He definitely had the same kind of deal with the soy sauce as in canon— he was at some kind of party, somebody offered it, he took it cause why the fuck wouldnt he, now he can see monsters and shit

Hes kind of a mooch also. Like. dont let him stay in your barn man he’ll never fucking leave and drink all your booze.

He runs into Dave when they happen to just, cross paths in the same town. the bullshit John stirs up ends up involving Dave in a way that makes it seem like it's his fault too, and they both get run out of town

after that he just tags along after Dave. hes decided this guy's Cool he wants to stick around. Dave is pissed at first, but not enough to shoot him or anything, and eventually, John grows on him

Dave

Dave also is a loner but unlike John hes simply so fucking awkward and bad with people. He doesnt feel like he belongs anywhere so he just travels

He’s the stereotypical Lone Ranger tbh. He wanders from town to town, solving their problems, though hed deny its out of any moral obligation (it kinda is, a little bit, tbh. He does like feeling useful). He shows up, fixes things, leaves. He's kind of a legend but most people think he's hiding something dark. other people jsut know him as that guy who farted real loud in the middle of the saloon and promptly skipped town out of sheer embarrassment. you know how it goes with Dave

He ends up involved with the Soy Sauce when a snake (not Actually a snake,) bites him. The snake’s more like the wig-monsters, really. Anyway, it injects him with the soy sauce, he fucking trips balls in the middle of the desert, he can see monsters now

He runs into John and shit goes tits-up, as said, but they become traveling buddies after that. he'd never say so, but he's glad for the company, actually. it's nice. hes not used to companionship but he feels a strange kind of easiness hanging out with John....

not sure how the Monster Dave concept will like fit in to this reality but like. trust me i want it in here. I'll Figure It Out.

Amy

Amy’s been living in a town John and Dave end up passing through and she is very curious about these two new Handsome Strangers who claim to fight monsters and just kinda. Persistently tags along til they let her join for real

Her family’s all dead, unfortunately, just like in canon, and she’s been living alone for a few years before meeting John n Dave. she had nothing left in that town to stay for, she'd been fantasizing about escaping on wild adventures for a long time and this felt a little like a dream come true. (Dave still gives her a spiel about how Difficult it is, but really, her fantasies were pretty grounded-in-reality already. i jsut think thats how she is, yknow?)

Shes the first person to react to the whole “we see monsters” shit with a kind of “oh, okay. neat” kind of response lmao

John and Dave fix whatever the fuck is up with her town (maybe that’s where the Korrok shit can fit, who knows) and Amy ends up being integral to that. After, she insists they take her with them because “they need her now” and Dave just cant really say no. John too is very much "the more the merrier!" and hes actually glad to have another person along he loves people lmao

At the start she has long hair but after she joins them she chops it short with a knife for convenience

also she still is an amputee. justt. idk. it was a wagon/stagecoach accident rather than a car accident lmao. just to clarify since i hadnt mentioned it, i wouldnt rob her of her ghost hand or yknow. all of the significance to her character that Missing A Hand has. although also now im going to have to research what was used as painkillers way-back-when, but im betting shes still got, like, her pain pills, they probably had those, maybe i wouldnt have to try too hard there. old timey medicine could be WACK though,

Shitload

Yeah hes in tthis shit mostly cause i liked designing his cowboy self lmao

Hes a kid (like 16, 17, technically i think in those days that was more Young Man than Kid but whatever. Hes Young i mean.) who got possessed by the Worms out in the desert and, by his family’s perception, just went missing!

Hes also a wanderer, but he ended up at the same town john and dave met in, at that same time, and starts following them after, already aware of who/what they are.

He keeps his face covered 24/7. actually he covers a Majority of his self for reasons. kinda want him to be a slightly more horrifying Worm Entity rather than human idk,

I kinda dont have much for this boy yet sorry Shitload

images !

with some editing notes for me cause im doing a very specific aesthetic with this lmao. i might change some lil details/colours though ...... idk

im also kinda 🤔 about shitload's colour palette. i want things assoicated w the sauce to be black'n'red predominantly but i think his palette might mirror dave's too closely. also im working on a korrok design i jsut am too busy to draw it now

[nightmarewritings]

fantasy anon again! michael, martin, moth man, and jason meeting their hulder SO for the first time? A hulder is a beautiful and seductive forest creature found in Scandinavian folklore. Her name derives from a root meaning "covered" or "secret". In Norwegian folklore, she is known as huldra. She is known as the skogsrå "forest spirit" or Tallemaja "pine tree Mary" in Swedish folklore, and ulda in Sámi folklore. she can produce all kinds of plant life and is a very "take no shit" person.

Hello fantasy anon, sorry for the wait! I’ve been having some rough writer’s block lately. I hope these are alright!

With A Hulder S/O

Michael Myers:

Meets you when he's roughing it in the woods after a particularly daring escape from police. His first thought is to kill, but something stops him.

He sees the tail peeking from under your clothing, and his first thought is to pull it, to see if it's fake. One hard slap later, and he knows it is real.

Honestly isn't too fond of you at first, but you must see something special in him, because why else would you have shown yourself to him? Grow that boy some vegetables and make him have a healthy meal that doesn't consist of someones dog.

Martin Mathias:

Running through the woods after almost getting caught drinking the blood from some poor woman, he's very startled when he runs into you. He's even more startled when you're not bothered by the blood on his face.

He's not heard of hulder before, but he has heard legends of similar forest creatures from his family. He's very curious about the tail, is it real? He won't ask, but he won't be able to take his eyes off it either.

Honestly pretty nervous at first, Martin's never really met anyone overtly non-human before, but he does get something of a crush on you. Not in a “I want to drug her and drink her blood” kinda way either.

Mothman:

Mothman knows these woods well, and is very surprised to see something that looks almost human, but isn't. Very, very cautiously approaches you, and moves in closer when you notice him and react without fear.

Very curious, circles around you a bit, lifting up your arms and hair and basically trying to figure you out. A bit hurt when you push him away after he tries to lift your skirt and look at your tail.

Once you've explained exactly what you are, he'll be satisfied. He would like to spend more time with you, there's not a lot of non-humans in the area that are friendly, and he would like to make sure you're safe.

Jason Voorhees:

Raises his machete, then he sees the tail. Jason has seen a lot of different people in his life, killed most of them, but none of them had a tail. You've got his brain practically spinning trying to figure you out.

You seem to be not only respectful of the land around you, but actively helping it. Jason respects that immensely, and quickly comes to like you. He's still a bit wary, but he enjoys your presence in the forest.

You might find Jason rather easy to get along with. While he would probably stare a lot at your tail, simply because it still confuses him a bit about why you have one, he's not going to antagonize you or make demands. He's fond of you.

[dolphin-enthusiast]

Sdc gang having a s/o that may or may not be a human-shaped cryptid/eldritch being. Im talking bout Dr. coomer levels. They try to take a pic of them it comes out blurry. Their eyes glow in the dark like animals. They’re oldly quiet always appearing and disappearing behind them. Always saying wacky things like “my powers grows” or “i feel normal”

I kin said s/o cryptids unite❤️

Jotaro:

- Fucking confused all the time but doesn’t dare question it since he’s seen some shit in his life. Like he probably met them during his journey with the other men and since then said s/o started following them (specifically him) around just because they were bored or something and even if Jotaro didn’t care about the eldritch being at first, it all changed once they actually started helping the gang out.

- For the most part however they’re pretty passive and quiet, not moving an inch and honestly?? Jotaro quite enjoys their company. Like literally the i d e a l s/o in his opinion. They aren’t overly loud, they’re just a bit unusual and also able to fight/scare people off. Besides, the few times they had spoken Jotaro found all of the subjects they brought up quite intriguing so??

- Will fight anyone that dares diss his lovely eldritch smokey matter glowing eyes s/o. And most importantly, will absolutely deck whoever dare to follow them around just to take pictures. Not only does Jotaro himself hate taking pictures, but the fact that his s/o sometimes attracts annoying people and they STILL can never manage to snap a legit picture of them due to their appearance getting all twisted and fucked up will forever be funny to Jotaro. Serves them right, in his opinion.

Kakyoin:

- Literal fucking fanboy. This man is absolutely o b s e s s e d with cryptic shit and totally believes that Mothman or Big Foot actually exist out there, so to have the utter HONOR of BEING together with a literal cryptid? Truly a dream come true. 

- Of course, that isn’t to say he dated them JUST because of that, but that’s merely a plus. A big fat plus. Kakyoin will constantly and enthusiastically ask s/o all kinds of questions about how it feels to be an eldritch creature, to which they would either stay silent or just gesticulate something, and Kak will instantly understand it anyway because these 2 have developed a strange yet intriguing and unique way of communicating. Like, most of the time they ain’t even talking.

- Tbh Kak himself has lowkey cryptid energy, every so often my man can be seen lurking around at 3 am and whenever you try snapping a pic of him the result is just a blurry greenish red spot. At this point these 2 would be known as “the cryptid couple”. Whenever Kak posts selfies on social media of him and s/o it’s always like a fucked up blurry image, kinda like those cursed image memes. And no one dares question it anyway, it’s entirely normal. Couple goals tbh.

Polnareff:

- The most excited goofball in the goddamn world, lemme tell you. Literally had no idea what a cryptid/eldritch being was before, he just knew the “basics” due to his bestie Kak being your local cryptid expert who’s actually a cryptid himself. That being said, he was KIND OF put off by s/o’s appearance at first thinking that they might be like an enemy stand or something, but that soon changed obviously.

- He soon learned that they were pretty harmless and also very chill, basically right up his alley. Hell, the eldritch being even let out a few (arguably odd sounding) chuckles at his dumb jokes, and that was a plus considering how dead silent they are usually. Tbh him and them are quite the polar opposites with Polnareff being a chaotically loud crackhead and his s/o being a literal eldritch monstrosity that can’t even properly appear in all of the selfies he takes with them on a daily basis. But does Pol mind it? NOT AT ALL.

- Alot of cute fucking picnic and park dates which are extremely ironic once you see the borderline hilarious dynamic between him and his s/o. However Pol couldn’t wish for anything else and the same goes for his cryptic s/o. After all, opposites attract. S/o mainly does the listening in the relationship and Pol does the talking, they balance eachother quite nicely. Besides, he kinda likes the entire teleporting thing anyway, it makes him feel safe even if he sometimes has the feeling of being...watched.

Joseph:

- Wasn’t phased in the slightest by their appearance. I mean, come on bro this man has seen SHIT in his life, like we’re talking about witnessing literal fitness aztec gods. Nothing ever shocks my man Joseph anymore. Besides, he ain’t the judgy type anyway.

- Was pretty open and intrigued by them and tried his best to get close to them, even if it was just a bit awkward once he started cracking his usual god awful jokes and the cryptid merely blinked back at him in confusion. Soon enough though these two SOMEHOW got together and it just...works? Like hell, Joseph one day decided to say fuck it and just ask them out since he thinks their form and overall being and behavior was strangely alluring and they said yes.

- Much like in Pol’s case, these 2 are complete opposites but that’s exactly why it works so well. Joseph will try his best to become cultured in the cryptid domain, even goin as far as to ask Kak about how to date cryptids and how to care of them, to which the man always eagerly complies. Joseph is extremely attentive and does his best to spoil them in adequate gifts (since he has this spoiling habit) especially since eldritch monstrosities don’t quite like the same things humans do.

Avdol:

- Second most excited after Kak because G O D D A M N . You can’t tell me this man ain’t a firm believer of the paranormal and cryptic creatures altogether, so to have a chance to meet and bond with one truly is through the best things that could have ever happened to him. The second he saw them appear one night as the gang was camping Avdol couldn’t maintain his excitement and felt as if he just HAD to know more about them.

- What he thought was just scientific curiosity soon turned into something entirely different as he actually interacted and TALKED to the eldritch being. He found their quiet and somehow shy nature extremely endearing and...was that a blush on their blurry cheeks? Soon enough the two began dating and no one questioned it at all. Hell, Kak even congratulated Avdol for getting such a lit unique s/o.

- Has tried to read their future countless of times but it never really worked due to their body constantly changing shape or just...being overall u n c l e a r. But s/o always tells him not to worry since their future is “uncertain” and that they’re omnipotent anyway. Furthermore, Avdol still has a somewhat lowkey scientific curiosity even when officially dating them and he WILL sometimes ask certain questions about their nature because he’s just...very eager to discover more about their kind yknow? But fret not for he has a deep respect for them and would literally burn whoever would ever try “ghost hunting” them or some other stupid shit like that.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hi!!!!!!!!!! I just saw your playlist for the indruck rockstar au so naturally I had to go and reread the whole entire thing in one go this morning and I just wanted to say how much I Love it and the way you write that whole scenario, especially with the way you incorporated the music lyrics??? (Especially since you wrote a bunch of those????) chefs kiss. I was wondering if you had ever written or planned out any of the sternclay that happened before this story took place because the way you described what we got of how they got together sounded so amazing and I would Die to hear their point of view. Hope you have a wonderful weekend!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so much! I’m really proud of that fic, and it seems to have been one a lot of folks really enjoyed. And well, when you asked this, it got me thinking. So here’s a brief history of how Stern and Barclay got together in this universe. Heads up: it is NSFW

That didn’t go as planned. 

Joseph only meant to alert The Cryptids to the fact their manager was clearly skimming off the top and downplaying offers for further connections in the business before turning every ounce of charm he could muster on Barclay. He came to fuck bigfoot, not change careers. 

Now he’s packing up the second of his two suitcases, conversation with his parents still ringing in his ears. They’re not taking the fact that he’s dropping out of college to manage an up and coming, horror rock, very gay band particularly well and have tried twice to talk him out of it. Which is why he’s glad he went through all the bureaucratic steps before calling them. 

He’s never been more terrified or excited in his life. He’s sure he can do this, he’s already booked them four more gigs in a logical tour path, found a better system for making their merch, and is tracking down a promising P.R lead. It’s the close quarters that scare him the most; he’s certain he could charm Barclay for an evening, could get the others to like him enough to hang around back stage once or twice. But for months on end? What if they think he’s prissy, or too perfectionistic, or too normal?

What if Barclay hates him?

------------------------------------------------------

“I must admit, I’d have thought you would have made a move on Joseph by now.” Indrid says before pulling a sweater on over his head. It gets caught on his glasses, and he flails until Barclay helps it the rest of the way down. They’re somewhere south of Madison, the van cutting a lonely path down the dark road; it’s so late, and they’re on one of those vast, distinctly midwestern stretches where there’s nothing but night sky and fields. Jake drives, tapping the wheel in time with the radio while Joseph sleeps in the passenger seat and Vincent sprawls on the far back one.

“Kinda weird to hit on your manager, right?” Barclay peers warily around the passenger seat to be double sure the manager in question isn’t listening. He isn’t, lips parted slightly and dark hair falling in his face as his sleeping body is tilted this way and that by the motion of the car. 

“Not when the manager looks like that and has already broadcasted his eagerness to fuck you.”

Barclay can’t really argue that first point; Joseph walked into that sorry excuse for a dressing room looking like centerfold come to life. There’s a certain kind of fan of theirs who spends their daily life buttoned up and following the rules, and Joseph struck him as exactly that kind of self-repressing, well groomed gym bunny. They’re always the most fun fans to fuck, in his experience. Couple that with the fact Joseph was (is) hot and willing, Barclay would have happily called dibs on the van for an hour to fuck him senseless that first night. But now…

“I dunno, he hasn’t really flirted with me since we met. And even then he didn’t flirt much.”

“The lecture on Haye’s deficits did start about two seconds after he entered the room.”

“Yeah” Barclay sighs fondly at the memory, “maybe he’s just not interested now that he’s seen me offstage.”

“Or maybe you’re both acting from the same vein of professionalism. Which is not terribly punk rock.”

“I’m being myself” Barclay grumbles “that’s-”

“The most punk rock thing you can be.” Indrid finishes, nodding sagely. Then he smirks, “but that doesn’t change the fact Joseph wants to get into those leather pants of yours. Why do you think he keeps recommending the stage outfits that involve them?”

“Hey, I like that look too. It’s my idea as much as it’s his.”

“Mmmmhmm.” Indrid yawns, rests his head on Barclay’s shoulder.  Then he sings in his ear “Baby you got the clothes, baby he’s got the romance, you’ve got the moves so while you’ve got the chance, you wanna get in his pants, you wanna get in his pants, you wanna-”

Barclay elbows him sideways onto the seat, making them both giggle like they’re ten and wrestling on the trampoline in his backyard. 

“Enough with the prophecies, Mothman.”

“That was hardly a prophecy.” Indrid sticks his legs into Barclays laugh, “but very well. I will leave you to pine for as long as you please.”

Barclay spares another glance towards the front of the car.

“I’m not pining. I just want him to like me.”

A snore in reply, Indrid out with his arms sprawled in different directions. Barclay chuckles softly, roots around for one of their two pillows, and settles his head against the window. He doesn’t shut his eyes right away; instead he watches the lights of distant houses and stars race past, melding into the reflection of Joseph’s sleeping face.

------------------------------------

“I bought us ten more minutes, I cannot believe they didn’t warn us this was a double appearance. I’ll-” Joseph finishes shutting the van door and promptly grips it so hard it leaves an indent in his palm. 

The band is in various states of rapid undress, trying to get back into their first set of outfits, and smack in the center of the tableau is Barclay, naked from the waist down.

“-I’ll be more thorough going, um, going forward. See you all backstage.” 

He can’t scramble out of the vehicle fast enough, finds one of the two functioning bathrooms in the place and locks himself in without a second thought. Leans against the graffiti coated door and shoves his hand down pants, a little embarrassed at how turned on he is just from one peek at Barclay’s dick. That doesn’t stop him from picturing it as he shoves two fingers into himself and jacks off like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. The smell of two kinds of smoke, the half dead bulb, the din of the crowd gathering in the building all make him harder; he’s so desperately horny for his bassist he’ll make himself cum in a shitty dive bathroom. The thought has him moaning, and he covers his mouth with his free hand as he cums. 

With a much clearer head, he washes his hands and leaves to round up his band. It’s better this way, better for him to get off alone than put Barclay in a weird position by his manager coming onto him. That’d be weird for everyone; this way is much easier.

Ten minutes later, standing in the shadowy steps and watching The Cryptids perform, Barclay growling and sweat-soaked, giving Indrid a messy, open-mouthed kiss when the singer initiates it, he knows it won’t be easy at all.

---------------------------------------------------------

They’ve done it; Joseph helped the others successfully sign with Amnesty Records, securing them a re-release of their first album at higher quality and with wider distribution, a massive U.S tour, and more money up front than any of them have ever seen. Amnesty sees promise in them, and Barclay knows they can deliver. They celebrated for two nights solid, and now reality sets in; Indrid is locked in a hotel room, writing like he’s possessed by the ghost of several rockstars at once, Vincent and Jake are trying to find places to live now that they’re based in Atlanta, and Barclay…

Barclay is standing in a half-furnished apartment that doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to Joseph, currently hopping on and off the phone while Barclay waits for dinner to arrive. In a perfect world he would have just cooked, but given how Joseph’s been the last few weeks, he’s worried that gesture of intimacy might freak him out. The manager was in meetings all day and is still in his suit, a forty dollar one they bought in a strip mall at the edge of town. On him it looks like it cost a thousand dollars just for the slacks. The slacks Barclay is failing very hard at not staring at. Joseph isn’t even twenty-one, but he’s been working deals like a pro, and it is the hottest fucking thing Barclay has ever seen. 

He tries distracting himself from his unhelpful gay thoughts via distressing images. All he comes up with is having to steal Indrid’s phone from him after the singer called his family for the first time in almost three years. Whether that was to deliver a final fuck you or toss a hail Mary of reconciliation their way, Barclay isn’t sure. All he knows is he watched Indrid’s face take a turn, old hurts smothering the spark in his eyes, and he took the phone away while someone yelled on the other end of it. 

“How are your parents taking it?” Joseph looks up from the laptop on the kitchen table where he’s entering dates into a calendar. 

Barclay smiles, “Good. Pretty sure they’ve told everyone in the family the good news. Alice can get a chain email out like nobody’s business. They say they love me and are proud of me and that I have to promise to still come home for Christmas every now and then.”

Joseph smiles back, open for a moment before a guard slips back up. Barclay tucks his hands in his pockets, psyching himself up. He has to do this. He has to know.

“Have I, like, made you angry or something? You’ve just been standoffish lately.” 

“Working out everything for the contract has been so stressful I’m not sure anyone but the execs have seen much of me.” The answer is well-rehearsed. 

“Oh.” Barclay nods, hands still in his pockets and shoulders slouched. 

“And, um, and they haven’t gone away. My feelings for you.” This answer is far quieter, the other man looking up from the screen with fearful eyes. 

“That’s a...bad thing? But I, uh, I, like you too. I like so fucking much.”

A little puff of laughter, “I can tell. Believe me, I can. It’s just that being your manager is different than being a random fan looking for a hook-up; I might  want something you’re not ready to give, or vice versa, and if we rush into things it could fuck up everything you guys worked for. Everything we worked for.”

Barclay cautiously steps forward, “What if we took things slow? Like, really slow.”

Hope sneaks into the corners of Joseph’s eyes, “What would that look like?”

“Like we go step by step, with first dates and like, hand holding and shit. We can take as long as we want; I mean, unless you’re planning on ditching the next big thing in the music world, think we’re gonna have plenty of time to spend together.”

“I like the sound of that.” 

Barclay circles the table as Joseph stands. He cups his cheek, running his thumb up his cheekbone.

“Hey.”

“Hi” Joseph’s eyes have taken on a distinctly Bambi-ish shape. 

“You wanna go get dinner tomorrow?”

The other man loops his arms around his shoulders, “Absolutely.”

Their first kiss comes less than twenty four hours; they may be taking it slow, but there’s only so much two men who’ve been pining in the confines of a van for months can take. It’s soft and popcorn scented and Joseph holds his hand the entire time. 

---------------------------------------------

Joseph waits in the dressing room, ears ringing from the sound system and the screaming crowd. It’s the first time The Cryptids have played any sort of true arena, and they sold out the show a week in advance. 

Barclay clomps into the room in his combat boots, grinning as soon as he sees him. He’s dripping with sweat, his eyeliner is a little smudged, and even though he isn’t the lead vocalist, he has enough backing vocals that his voice is a touch raw when he speaks. 

“Fuck that was fun.”

“You all did so well. I, this is going to sound corny, but I’m so proud of you.”

“Should be proud of yourself too, babe. Without you, we’d probably still be playing no-name bars in Des Moines or Fresno.”

“Managing is easy when the talent’s this good.” He runs his hands up Barclays’ fishnet-clad chest. 

“Take the compliment, blue eyes.”

High on pride and the knowledge that at least a third of the crowd would commit a felony to take his place, Joseph pinches Barclay’s left nipple, “No.”

Barclay growls, grabbing his lapels and yanking him into a salty, toothy kiss. He moans in reply, drops his hands down to undo Barclay’s fly so he can grind against him, feel him getting hard through his dress pants. 

“You really wanna do that here, babe? Don’t wanna make our first time all soft sheets and candlelight?” Barclay rubs the top button of Joseph’s shirt between his thumb and finger. 

“Yes, I want you and I want you now” 

Barclay lunges, shoving him back until his ass hits the dressing room table.

“Fine” he grunts, getting his cock out while Joseph kicks one leg free of his pants, “can’t take a compliment, gonna take something else.”

“OHmylord, fuck, fucking finally.” He thunks his head back against the mirror as Barclay sets a ferocious tempo. 

“Shit, you feel even better than I thought you would, and I’ve been, fuck, thinking about it for a long fucking time. Ever since you walked into that shitty dressing room in those tight shorts and shirt with my name on it.”

“Nnhng” He spreads his legs wider at the memory.

“Oh you fucking like that, don’t you babe? That why you wanted to do this here? So I could treat you like the horny fucking fanboy you really are?”

“Yes, ohmylord, yes, yes.” He can’t feel anything but the points where they connect, can’t hear anything beyond Barclay’s growls in his ear and the slap of skin on skin.

“Fuck” Barclay pulls his hair with one hand, shoves his knee further up with the other, “shoulda known, even with that fancy suit all you wanna be is my fucking toy.” It’s a snarl, the hottest sound he’s ever heard and he drags Barclay into another kiss, amazed that he feels close to cumming already. 

Knockknock.

Barclay turns his head towards the door, Joseph muffling his panting breath in his shoulder. 

“Uh, who is it?”

“Mothman. The winners of that drawing are back here to meet us.”

“Shit” Joseph hisses, starting to sit up only for strong hands to trap him in place. 

“Cool. Uh, gimme like” Barclay looks down to where his cock is buried into Joseph, “three minutes?”

The smile in Indrid’s voice is unmistakable, “Of course. I still need to find Vincent. See you soon.”

“Three minutes seems optimisticAH, ohgod” He holds on for dear life as Barclay fucks him with sharp, deep thrusts. A calloused hand finds his dick and Joseph bites down on a broad shoulder to keep from alerting everyone in the vicinity to his impending orgasm. 

“That’s it babe, cum for me, cum on my cock in a backroom like the horny, needy thing you are.” Barclay stills his hips, hand working with slick, messy movements until Joseph cums. He doesn’t wait for him to finish all the way before slamming into him for ten of the best seconds of Stern’s life and cumming with a deep moan. 

“Fucking-A that was good.”

“Good is an understatement.”

“I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

A kiss on the head as Barclay helps him onto the ground, a flurry of putting their clothes into a rough approximation of order. Then Barclay kisses him again as Joseph strokes his hair. 

“Offer of soft sheets and candlelight still stands.” 

Joseph holds him tighter, smiling against his neck, “I guess we know what we’re doing tomorrow night.”

----------------------------------------------------

It’s the last day of recording the tracks for “Blood on the Mirror” and the mood is bittersweet. After this, there’s one more tour and then The Cryptids go their separate ways. It was time, everyone but Indrid and Jake ready to move on to other projects, and Joseph is already on board to manage Indrid’s solo career (“I’d trust it to no one else, Joseph. I mean it”). All the same, when the final track is deemed done, everyone applauds and embraces like they’re going off to war. 

He heads down to his office to finish reading over venue contracts while the band packs up, but he only gets through one before Barclay appears. 

“Hey, blue eyes.”

“Hi, Bigfoot.” Joseph stands and comes to the door to kiss him, “are you already set to go home.”

“More or less” Barclay rubs his arm, his most consistent anxiety tell, “uh, there’s just one thing I gotta ask before we leave.”

Hushed voices down the hall, but no one there when Joseph looks behind him to check. When he turns back, his hands fly up to cover his mouth. Barclay is down on one knee.

“I, uh, I know this might not be the most, uh, traditional spot to do this but it feels right. I’ve just been thinking about how a huge chapter of my life is coming to a close and there’s this whole new, exciting, terrifying blank page where I have to write the next one. And I, I realized that I want you to be in that chapter with me, and the next one, and the one after that. So, uh, what I want to know is: Joseph Stern, will you marry me?”

He nods, not trusting his voice to come out with intelligible words. 

“Oh thank god.” Barclay springs up, cupping his face and spinning him in a kiss. Joseph laughs as whooping cheers echo towards them. Indrid, Jake, and Vincent, are peering around the nearest corner, beaming.

“Indrid is for sure going to say I told you so the second he gets me alone” Barclay chuckles, “I was so afraid you’d say no because things will be kind of up in the air for the next few years.”

Joseph turns his face back towards him, “You’re right, they will. But I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend them with.”