#I might be projecting on swiss as well

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

This is the continuation of this, which was inspired by this. Swiss' perspective this time ! Also, again : Swiss is hard on himself in this, but he's biased and it doesn't reflect what I actually think of him (he's my favorite ghoul, i love him to hell and back)

Swiss twirls his fork between his fingers absent-mindedly, eyes trained on Mountain. He's talking about books with Cirrus and Rain, gesturing widely with an excited grin, plate long forgotten in front of him. Swiss bites back a wounded sound at the sight.

Oh, Swiss was doomed from the start. He never could have resisted the earth ghoul, not in a hundred years. There is something so grounding about Mountain, something that has Swiss hanging to his every words whenever the earth ghoul's voice rises, something in his very presence that quiets Swiss' otherwise constantly racing thoughts, turning them into a distant buzz. How can someone be so good, so sweet, while also being a creature from hell, sin running through his veins ? Swiss doesn't have an answer for that particular question.

Mountain is just...everything Swiss isn't, and will never be. Level-headed and rationnal where Swiss acts on impulse, serene in a way Swiss can never be, the urge to move and act always jostling him forward. Watching Mountain offer potted plants to all of them with a shy smile, carry a ghoul who fell asleep on the couch to their bed, let anyone stay at the greenhouse while he works and hums songs whenever they might need it, lend his huge knitted sweaters and comfy hoodies to everyone who asks, makes something hurt in Swiss' stomach.

How dare he, overbearing, too present, restless Swiss, always trail after the wonder that is Mountain ? How dare he disturb the earth ghoul's peace with his incessant rambling, his attempts at jokes, his too loud laughter ? Guilt swirls inside of him whenever he interrupts something Mountain is doing, even if he never says anything, just puts down whatever he had in hands and tilts his head toward the multi ghoul, ears twitching and lips curling in a smile to indicate he's listening.

Swiss doesn't deserve the peace that fills him when Mountain is around, how could he when he shatters the earth ghoul's own, when he's so wrong and too much, when he takes up so much space and has nothing positive to give in return ?

Mountain is simply too sweet, doesn't deserve the hurricane that Swiss brings with him. And yet, Mountain seeks his presence, comes to him and listens intently to the words flowing out of the multi ghoul's mouth. Swiss doesn't understand why, but it seems to help, and he'd do anything for Mountain.

A soft touch against his chin snaps Swiss out of it. Mountain wipes something on his skin with his thumb, eyes soft and warm, calloused fingers so very gentle on his face. Swiss's heart misses a beat.

[nehswritesstuffs]

you know, maybe one of the reasons Law has resonated with me as a character lately is because he ate the Ope-Ope no Mi/Op-Op Fruit and my Midwestern American ass recognizes that sacred word and just clings to it because he is exactly the type of guy who would wear a hoodie with shorts and exudes not only big I Might Have Had A Rebellious Phase But I’m A Professional Now If You Would Just Listen to Me I am So Tired energy but also what is Flevance but a Rust Belt town decimated by toxic mining and a government filled with just enough people who want to sweep it under the rug and look the other way and this doesn’t even get into headcanons about Flevance being the Low Countries/more Dutch than what most people think of when they read “German” bc it caters to my personal whims or Detroit parallels because I will make Detroit parallels about every fictional center of wealth and prosperity and culture that gets fucking abandoned and treated like trash (especially by those around it) and no one can stop me

[lotus-tower]

The Swiss Cheese Model of Covid Prevention

An edited version of the swiss cheese model tailored towards the measures that you as an individual can take to minimize your risk of infection. Public health is ultimately what its name implies, public, but that doesn't mean you're powerless.

Covid prevention is not all-or-nothing. Think of it as risk reduction, rather than a binary.

Let's go through these step by step.

VACCINES

The current vaccines are meant primarily to reduce chances of severe illness, hospitalization, and death. They will reduce your chance of infection a bit--but not nearly as much as you might think. You should still get your boosters regularly, because avoiding severe illness is of course worth doing.

If you haven't gotten the updated monovalent vaccine yet, go get it. It is not a booster. Think of it as a new vaccine. It's targeted towards the XBB lineages, which are now the most common variants. Your last boosters were likely of the bivalent type, aimed at both the original Covid strain from 2020 and Omicron. The new vaccine is monovalent, meaning it targets one family in particular.

Some studies suggest that the Novavax vaccine, which is a more traditional protein-based vaccine, is more effective and safer than mRNA vaccines, and offers better protection against future variants. Of course, the data we have so far isn't 100% conclusive (the last paper I linked is a preprint). Make of these findings what you will, just something to keep in mind. The new Novavax vaccine's availability is still limited, especially outside of the US.

MASKS

Masking is one of the most effective ways to protect yourself. While it is true that masking and reducing Covid transmission protects those around you, the idea that masks can't protect the wearer is outdated information from the early days of the pandemic when medical authorities refused to acknowledge that Covid is airborne.

The key to protecting yourself is to wear a well-fitting respirator. You want to minimize any gaps where air might leak out. If your glasses get fogged up, that's a sign that air is leaking.

Headbands will always have a tighter fit than earloop masks (and therefore provide better protection). However, you can use earloop extenders to improve the fit of earloop masks. You can find these online. Your comfort in wearing a mask is important, but there are options for compromise.

The above graphic doesn't include elastomeric respirators. While some (like the Flo Mask) are expensive, they can be much more affordable than buying disposables--look for P100 respirators at your local hardware store, but make sure it fits your face well.

For more general information, see this FAQ. For mask recommendations (NA-centric, sorry!), see my list here or Mask Nerd's YouTube channel.

For situations where you need to hydrate but don't want to take your mask off, consider the SIP valve.

Not even N95s are foolproof (N95 means it filters at least 95% of particles--with the other 5% potentially reaching you). Most people will likely not have a perfect fit. There will be situations where you'll have to take your mask off. The key is risk reduction, and that's why the Swiss cheese model is crucial.

If you can't afford high-quality masks, look for a local mask bloc or other organization that gives out free masks. Project N95 has unfortunately shut down. In Canada, there's donatemask.ca.

AVOID CROWDED INDOOR SPACES

This is rather self-explanatory. Indoor transmission is much, much, much more likely than outdoor transmission. If it's possible to move an activity outdoors instead, consider doing so.

If possible, try going to places like stores or the post office during less busy hours.

Viral particles can stay in the air for a considerable amount of time even after the person who expelled them has left. Do not take off your mask just because no one is currently present, if you know that it was previously crowded.

A CO2 monitor is a decent proxy for how many viral particles may have accumulated in the air around you. The gold standard is the Aranet4, but it's expensive, so here are some more affordable alternatives.

VENTILATION AND AIR FILTERS

Ventilation is effective for the same reason that outdoors is safer than indoors. If it's warm enough, keep windows open whenever possible. If it's cold, even cracking them open occasionally is better than nothing. Try to open windows or doors on different sides of a room to maximize airflow.

HEPA air filters can significantly reduce viral transmission indoors. Make sure to find one suitable for the room size, and replace the filters regularly. You want to look for devices with HEPA-13 filters.

You can use websites like these to calculate how long it takes for a device to change all the air in a room. Remember what I said about viral particles being able to hang around even after people have left? If an air purifier provides 2 air changes per hour, that means that after 30 minutes, any potential viral particles should be gone.

If you can't afford a commercial air filter, here's a useful DIY filter you can make with relatively simple materials. The filtration capacity is great--but due to being built with duct tape, replacing filters will be a challenge.

If you have to hold meetings or meet with people at work, having a smaller filter on the desk between you will also reduce chances of infection.

As a bonus, HEPA filters will also filter out other things like dust and allergens!

REDUCE LENGTH OF EXPOSURE IF EXPOSURE IS UNAVOIDABLE

Viral load refers to the amount of virus in a person's blood. If you've been exposed to someone with Covid, how much you've been exposed matters.

You might escape infection if the viral load you've been exposed to is very small. Or, even if you get infected, there will be less virus in you overall, leading to milder illness--and crucially, a lower chance of the virus penetrating deep into your body, creating reservoirs in your organs and wreaking long-term havoc.

A low viral load is also less contagious.

This is the same reason that wearing your mask most of the time, but having to take it off for eating, is still much better than not wearing your mask at all.

RECHARGEABLE PORTABLE AIR FILTERS

You might attract some odd looks. But if you're at high risk or just want to be as protected as possible, small portable air filters can help. Try to find models small enough to take with you on public transportation, to school, or while traveling.

These devices will be far too small to clean the air in the whole room. The goal is to have it filter air in your immediate vicinity. Be sure to angle the device so that the air is blowing in your face.

Unfortunately, rechargeable devices are much rarer and harder to find than normal air filters, and many are also expensive.

The best option at the moment, apart from DIY (which is possible, but you need to know what you're doing), seems to be the SmartAir QT3. The size and shape are a bit clunky, but it fits in a backpack. Its battery life isn't long, but it can be supplemented with a power bank.

NASAL SPRAYS

There's some research that suggests that some nasal sprays may be effective in reducing risk of infection by interfering with viruses' ability to bind to your cells.

These sprays are generally affordable, easy to find, and safe. The key ingredient is carrageenan, which is extracted from seaweed. So there are no potential risks or side effects.

Be sure to follow the instructions on the packaging carefully. Here's a video on how to properly use nasal sprays if you've never used them before.

Covixyl is another type of nasal spray that uses a different key ingredient, ethyl lauroyl arginate HCI. It also aims to disrupt viruses' ability to bind to cell walls. Unfortunately, I think it's difficult to obtain outside of the US.

CONCLUSION

None of the methods listed here are foolproof on their own. But by layering them, you can drastically reduce your chances of infection.

The most important layers, by far, are masking and air quality. But you should also stay conscientious when engaging with those layers. Don't let yourself become complacent with rules of thumb, and allow yourself to assess risk and make thought out decisions when situations arise where you might have to take off your mask or enter a high-risk indoor area, such as a hospital.

Remember that the goal is risk reduction. It's impossible to live risk-free, because we live among countless other people. But you can use knowledge and tools to keep yourself as safe as possible.

[library-ducky]

Ghouls on vacation

Totally not inspired by me going to the seaside over the weekend. Not at all.

HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT, LET'S GO

AETHER

gets everything set up

if there's a Papa nearby, he will make him sit down and rest, no buts

he'll go swimming, but will not put his head under the water. And he'll do at least one dive-bomb to soak any unfortunate soul who is close enough

he'll read crime mistery books while lounging on a deck chair (bonus point if there's a beer in his hand)

he has the Dad™️ fit: flip-flops, swimming trunks (with palm trees or dolphins or pineapples on them), an open hawaian shirt and the sunglasses and baseball cap combo

RAIN

knows how to surf

idk how or when or where he'd learn, but he DOES

also the sun brings out his bioluminescent spots (the biology probably doesn't check out but idc, I headcanon that he has bioluminescent freckles and the sun brings out freckles so)

(in his human glamour), he doesn't tan a lot (I might be projecting but it's *MY* headcanon and *I* get to choose the bitch that will simply not tan 😤)

if possible, he'll unglamour just to dive as deep as he can go

he's the bastard that brings out the pretty rocks and seashells

might also befriend a fish or two while he's at it

he pulls the "my hair is wet so I have to shake the water off OH NO I WAS STANDING TOO CLOSE AND SOMEONE GOT SPRAYED this surely was not on purpouse I would never 🥺👉🏻👈🏻"

PHANTOM

he'd be a bit scared to go in at first, but ultimately would get coaxed into it

he swims by doggy paddling for the better part of his time at the beach. He knows how to swim, that's just more fun to him

builds sandcastles (and honestly slays at it)

hates the feeling of salt in his hair after it dries, so Cumulus brings a water bottle along so he can rinse it out when he gets out of the sea

he gets HUNGRY after a swim

tries to dive along with Rain, but isn't able to go as deep since he's not a water Ghoul. He will, however, make it his job to point out pretty seashells and demand Rain gets them for him

SWISS

an absolute heathen in the water

he'll creep up behind people (mostly Dew or Phantom) and push their head under the water

he steals a bucket from Phantom and uses it to absolutely SOAK Aurora with the water he scoops from the sea

he tans both in human glamour and in actual Ghoul form

also knows how to surf (dude bro energy fr fr)

he'll be a menace and playfully tease and torment everyone but as soon as someone tells him to stop, he'll be on his best behaviour

reminds everyone to drink water (resorted to throwing a bottle at Rain's head one time cuz he would ignore him and refuse to stop swimming. Rain listened immediately)

DEWDROP

hair in a high bun IMMEDIATELY, will NOT let them get wet

unless Swiss pulls him under, but that usually warrants Swiss getting chased up and down the beach for 15 minutes with a fuming (HAH) Dew behind him

he'd bring a sunshade umbrella to stick in the sand (and then not use it cuz he likes to bask in the sun)

he'd also join Phantom in his sandcastle endeavours by digging a moat around the structure

will swim, but only for a little bit, he'd rather make himself sizzle in the sun

he doesn't really tan, but also doesn't get a sunburn (something something fire Ghoul)

Cumulus still manhandles him into putting on sunscreen (as she does with everyone)

MOUNTAIN

THE SUN MAKES HIS FRECKLES SO PROMINENT AND EVERYONE LOOKS AT HIM LIKE 💖👄💖

usually throws his hair into a haphazard bun and leaves it like that for the entire time

he jumps into the water EXCLUSIVELY by diving headfirst

he doesn't mind the salt on his skin after he dries off, he's used to the grime from the greenhouse and the gardens anyways

he tans, and the freckles on his shoulders/back/collarbone get much more visible as well

his cheeks also get a bit pinker from the sun and everyone calls him adorable because of it

will observe the local flora and fauna, he just can't help himself honestly (and he WILL tell Rain all the sea life fun facts he knows)

drinks only water, but occasionally he'll treat himself to a pre-mixed cocktail if Cumulus brings any (she always does)

CUMULUS

mom friend fr

brings an extra tube of sunscreen (both for the body and the face) just in case someone forgets

manhandles EVERYONE into putting it on

also brings some extra towels in case someone gets theirs wet by accident or forgets it completely

she packs snacks and fruit, as well as drinks (the cooler bag carried by Aether, of course)

she likes swimming, and doesn't mind diving or getting her hair wet (her hair gets really curly and fluffy when it's dry and everyone thinks it's the cutest thing ever)

reads romance novels

she steals the sunshade from Dew, he doesn't need it anyways

helps people to brush out their hair if they need it after a swim

the only person who could convince Rain to get out of the water immediately

CIRRUS

Rich Wine Aunt energy and she shows it

black bikini with a black sheer robe over it

big sunglasses and a big ass hat as well

she doesn't really go swimming a lot, she preferes to tan

reads horror novels on the beach

usually drinks a cosmopolitan cocktail while she lounges, sometimes (although rarely) a beer

she keeps her hair down for the added Dramatic Effect

she keeps everyone (or at least the Ghouls not in the water) cool with her air magic (Dew asked her to stop doing that for him cuz he likes burning in the sun)

will not tolerate being bothered in her peace (she will, actually, but she'll be extremely annoyed about it)

SUNSHINE

much like Dew, she loves to bask in the warmth of the sun

her hair gets hella curly and bouncy from the salt water

she has a whole "after tanning" routine so her skin won't get messed up

also she tans quite a lot

uses a tanning jam

likes to nap under the sunshade with Cumulus

she puts on headphones, plays some music aaaaand she's dozing off

the third surfer of the group (YES I'M HAVING "MALIBU RISING" BRAINROT IT'S SUCH A GOOD SUMMER BOOK)

makes necklaces out of the shells Rain picks up (if she manages to convince him to give some up)

star shaped sunglasses

AURORA

helps Phantom build sandcastles

also brings pretty rocks (and steals shells from Rain when he's not there) to decorate them

she LOVES swimming and diving

"her hair turns bright pink in salt water" ~@ligovskaya (okay Barbie mermaid toy moment 💅🏻✨️)

she does her nails on theme (either to do with the sea, the beach, fish, so on and so forth)

is in the process of learning how to surf and is being taught by Sunshine

she likes to listen to music but like on an ipod shuffle with wired headphones

has heart shaped sunglasses (got them from Sunshine cuz she decided that she's adopting Aurora as a sister, therefore they have to match)

she has the cutest, frilliest pink bathing suit (she's a pink girlie to me)

uses a tanning jam as well, but mostly because it smells nice

okay, this is it for now, I will gladly do other Ghouls or Papas if you guys want, you can pop into my ask box as well :3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ reblogs are appreciated ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[belle--ofthebrawl]

For @forlorn-crows Mushy May 2023 day 23: Watching the other sleep

FOR @forlorn-crows MUSHY MAY 2024 DAY 2: MIDNIGHT SNACKS

Pairing: Mountain/Dew

Rating: T for mild sexual humor and dew complaining he doesn't have a libido.

Tags: Attempted Laundry, Attempted Robbery, Midnight Snacks, Mountain is silent but deadly, Fresh Mountain Air (derogatory). Arguably slice of life?

Summary: Yeah I don't even know what to tell you with this one. Dew and Mountain do laundry, get snacks and save the day...?

Word Count: 3252

They've been laying together in content silence for probably an hour. Mountain's the little spoon; Dew's shimmied his way up to throw an arm clumsily over Mountain's shoulders with a leg flung over the big guy's hip in a classic jetpack position. They're both naked save for boxers but the heat of skin on skin isn't really doing anything for them like it usually does. Dew's playing with Mountain's hair, Mountain's enjoying the sensation but. Just laying there without sleeping or fucking is making Dewdrop kind of twitchy. 

Don't get it wrong, Dew loves a good cuddlepile but that comes with the sensation of being sandwiched between a bunch of other ghouls, something always moving, someone always purring and while he loves to play with Mountain's hair quietly like this, just the two of them, he can't relax if everything is too still. Even the HVAC unit in the room isn't working so the air is tepid and stale.

He takes a deep breath in to ask Mountain if maybe he wants to go for a walk or whatever when Mountain shifts and asks, "You wanna grab some snacks from that place across the road?"

Dew grins against Mountain's neck and praises Satan for the earth ghoul's ever hungry stomach. The day (or night) Mountain doesn't get up for a midnight snack is the day (or night) Dew will finally believe in body snatchers. 

"There's a laundromat next to it, I think." Mountain continues. "Should probably wash whoever's clothes are in the suitcases."

"It might be shirts from Swiss." Dew says nonchalantly. "Some from Cumulus too, I think. Maybe." As if he didn't routinely pilfer everyone's clothes and was in fact using Aether's shirt as a pillowcase. Mountain makes a little "hrm" that tells Dewdrop he can't get away with anything.

"And your hoodie." Dew adds, rushed and quiet.

"You might as well keep it." Mountain says, shrugging off Dew's limbs so he sit up and stretch. Dew's eyes immediately go to the way his shirt rides up, exposing his happy trail covering the scant amount of pudge Mountain carries on his beanpole of a body but still. Nothing happens down south. He must be tired. "I like my clothes without burn marks.'

"That was one time and I said I was sorry." Dew snapped without any real bite, shrugging on the aforementioned hoodie while Mountain threw on jeans and a shirt. Dew shimmies into something that fits him, he's pretty sure it's Sunny's by the smell of mangos and when he sticks his hand in the pocket he fishes out a half eaten pack of dried strips. He places them respectfully on the nightstand; hell spawn he might be but other people's snacks were sacrosanct. Especially Sunny's.

"Grab your wallet." Mountain says, hefting three duffel bags with ease. "It'll be pay per load and hopefully they have a coin machine there."

"Wish I was pay per load." Dew mutters as he slips his cracked leather billfold into the hoodies pocket. They probably have enough to get a few rounds done, he thinks.

"So do I." Mountain says, going for the door. Dew tries to kick him but the bastard's long stilty legs take him quickly out of range and Dew has to take three steps for just one of his.

“That doesn't even make any sense, asshole.”

“Your asshole doesn't make any cents. That's why I said it.”

“I am not making a fart joke Mountain.”

“I wouldn't judge you if you did.” Mountain says with a shrug and they continue their walk in the same companionable silence of the bedroom. The night clerk gives them a quiet nod as she folds towels and Mountain salutes her as they head out with their bags. The night air hits them like a soft wall of water, the ambient temperature still warm and humid enough to feel sticky  seconds after exiting the air-conditioned space of the lobby. 

“Nuh-uh” Mountain says, putting his large hand over Dew’s skinny chest when they reach the road. “Look both ways.”

“Mountain, it's the middle of the night.” Dew says with a look of disbelief. He adjusts Mountain’s hand so the palm is fully over his pectoral but he still isn't horny. Goddamn. “This isn't a big city, no one is around.”

“Safety.” Mountain says serenely, glancing left, then right then left again before nodding and pulling away from Dew, who takes a moment to mourn the loss of his hand on his chest and his libido.  They cross the street unharmed to the laundromat, glowing with bright fluorescent lights. 

“We're on camera.” Dew notes, nodding at the faded printout on the door.

“So show’em your good side.” Mountain replies, shouldering the door open. Rows of machines greet them, neatly lined up over the linoleum that is calling out for a decent sweeping. They only look a little bit rusty and Mountain picks a washer out while Dew pulls his wallet out and thumbs out a few bills for a coin machine that promises to take up to twenty dollar bills. He feeds it two fives, ears twitching at the loud clatter of coins in the tray and scoops them up, heading for a similar machine with a detergent selection.

“It's seven dollars and fifty cents for one load on a deluxe machine.” Mountain informs him when he returns, looking frustrated. “I'm not separating the whites.”

“Worth it if it's done faster.” Says Dew with a shrug. He never separates his whites. He doesn't think Mountain even wears white. Aether, maybe. Swiss, for sure. Those paper thin t-shirts that hardly hid anything dry let alone soaked. 

“Gimme the money.” Mountain says, finger gunning him. “Put it in the slot, nice and slow.”

“Noooo,” Dew says with a hint of whine. “Please, I need it to buy cigarettes and porn mags.”

It's so stupid but they burst out into quiet snickers anyway, jostling each other back and forth until Dew’s loaded up the tray and pushed it in. Mountain hits the settings and they leave the duffle bags on the counter for later. Dew flips off the camera as they go; Mountain covers up his hand and mouths sorry and they squeeze through the door at the same time in a half-hearted scuffle.

“Hope they have donuts.” Dew says, kicking a chunk of broken-off asphalt across the cracked parking lot. Mountain does the same, sending a waves of gravel and black top crumbs scattering. “Could go for a jelly Bismarck.

“Belly jismarck.” Mountain says.

“I’ll give you belly jismarck.” Dew mutters, bumping the big guy with his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets.”

“Promises, promises.” Mountain replies with the hint of a smile. “My treat, yeah? For the laundry.”

“Guess we'll call it even.” Dew says, easily slipping in ahead of him through the wide open door. There's another printout sign, politely informing them the AC was broken and it was management’s top priority to get it fixed. Lower and in smaller print was a date from several weeks ago. 

Typical, honestly.

A few big fans are set strategically in corners and though some kind of motion sensor rings out bell when they enter, the clerk at the register doesn't even acknowledge them, watching something on her phone and chewing gum, playing with her colorful braids. Dew absently notes the shade as one Sunny had wanted to try. He thinks about asking if it's the same brand to see if she had any tips so he could help Sunshine, but decides it’s just better to not bother her. 

The only other customer is a man in a unzipped hoodie debating over soda brands. He turns around with a orange soda and shuffles over to the candy aisle, giving them a decent look at the rude and bigoted phrase printed on his shirt before he tugged the hoodie close, one that implied he wanted more than just his laundry colors separated. Easy enough to ignore but Dew decides he’ll step in if the guy decides to be a jerk to the cashier.

“Goin’ for the sunflower seeds.” Mountain says, peeling away to shuffle down one aisle. Dew goes a few more down, nabs a little bottle of painkillers because Rain was complaining about his fingers hurting for longer than they should and some chapstick for Aether and the girls because the paint always dried out their lips and they were forever needing more. First aid run done, he picks up some hot chips and a soda before joining Mountain, who apparently can't decide between regular salted seeds and ones that are enticingly pickle flavored.

“Fuck’s sake.” Dew tells him. “Get them both.”

“Okay.” Mountain says. “Hang on, I want cake and then we'll check out.”

Dew wanders over to a rack of magazines and cheap puzzle books, wondering if he really needs another sudoku paperback but Aether enjoys doing them together so there's another fucking thing he has to carry. He's so absorbed in thinking about grabbing a cheap mystery for Cirrus that he barely notices it until he does. Under the hum of appliances, Dew's ear catches a faint hissing sound, like air being let quietly out of a balloon. 

Mountain starts whistling like he always does when he's trying to get away with something and returns to Dew, snack cakes retrieved.

"Would you care for a Swiss roll?" Mountain says, sounding completely solemn with a straight face  but still subtly looking immensely pleased with himself. Dew squints at him, suspicious.  Then the man in the hoodie, who had been in the cake aisle the whole time, starts coughing and after a few moments, airflow from the fans causes the stench to reach them.

"Unholy fuck, Mountain!" Dew hisses, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him away. "Really?" 

"I didn't like the implications of the slogan on his shirt." Mountain holds out the stale bakery treat in an open palm. "The Swiss roll?"

"And everyone thinks I'm the trouble maker." Dew grouses. 

"They never hear the quiet ones coming." Mountain says like it's some sort of wise statement.

"No shit." Dew says.

"I did not." Mountain replies. "Otherwise this would be an entirely different conversation."

Dew stares at the wall of snacks like it would give him an answer. All he hears is Mountain’s self satisfied chuckle.

He's damn lucky Dew likes him. 

When they get to paying, Dew lays his bounty out and examines the cigarette display behind the counter. All colorful and I exciting ways to give humans cancer. He doesn't know if it'll ever affect his vessel and honestly he doesn't know if he'll be around long enough to find out but that’s a depressing thought. 

That's when he spots it; a familiar white and blue box and he finds himself hit with an odd punch of nostalgia. Mist smoked that brand because it was easier to take a sharpie and scribble out the Y of the brand name, leaving just her name in fancy sea green font: MIST. Easiest way to keep the dicks she toured with from stealing her packs and Dew points to it. He gets it without needing to show ID and wonders if it means anything. Then decides he doesn't care. He opens the pack, shakes one out. Grabs a cheap lighter from the display and fiddles around with it as Mountain pays for their stuff.

"Lighters are one seventy five plus tax." The cashier says.

"I'm just testing it." Dewdrop replies. He lights his cigarette and puts the lighter back. The cashier looks at Mountain, who shrugs.

"He's just testing it."

The cashier's face took on the appearance of someone who suddenly decided they weren't paid enough to deal with this shit as Dew puts the lighter back and heads out to smoke while Mountain deliberates over stupid waiting line purchases like cheap plastic sunglasses that will break when he sits on them after forgetting he put them in his back pocket.

The guy with the hoodie is still hanging around with his purchases, hovering a few feet away from the door like he plans to sidle out with them, sans paying as he pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt.  A dual side eye from two glamoured demons makes him step back. Not that they really care about shoplifting but like hell they want company.

They only take five steps before stopping, admiring the night sky. Mountain's chewing his way through a pack of seeds he's pulled out of the bag already. Dew thinks back to the man and the way he reeked of nerves and rancid sweat. The way he kept hanging out like he was waiting for something. The way he kept plucking his hoodie.

"Guy had a gun." Dewdrop says, exhaling a long stream of smoke.

"Yep." Mountain replies.

"You have any sunflower seeds left?"

Mountain side-eyes him, expression carefully neutral.

"Yop."

Dew grins and tosses his cigarette down, grinding it out with the heel of his shoe.

“You feel like playing superhero, big guy?”

____

Dipshit is already threatening the poor girl when they enter the store again. The motion sensor goes off, alerting him to their presence and he swings around, pointing the gun at them.

“Hey.” Dew says, addressing the shaking cashier. He struggles to remember the name on her tag. Something related to cats? A singer? “Miss Kitt, I changed my mind. I think I’ll pay for that lighter after all.”

“Get on the ground!” Dipshit says. “Or I swear I’ll shoot!”

“You can.” He says to Mountain, who is already starting to kneel, bag of seeds clasped in his sweaty hand. “I still want to pay for my lighter.”

He isn't going to shoot. Dew knew the second he clocked the weapon the guy was banking on the threat more than any action he might take. So he approaches the counter, hands up as the muzzle remains trained on him.

“You can shoot me if I make any sudden movements.” Dew tells the would-be thief. He prays to Belial he’s as invincible as he feels on stage because now would be a bad time to find out otherwise. Ignorance is bliss and if he believes he's bullet-proof then, well, who's to say he isn't? He could be. His belief could make him strong enough. He's fire-retardant, at any rate. Should count for something.

He really really hopes Dipshit doesn't clock the way Dew’s own hands are trembling as they hand over a few measly dollars to Kitt. She takes them in a hand that's shaking just as hard and taps in the amount on the register. They all jump at the sound of the drawer sliding out for change and Dew could laugh if he wasn't just as scared as any other human would be, the barrel of a nine millimeter trained on him. 

He thinks it's a nine millimeter, at any rate. That's always the gun those detective novels have so it's all he has to go off of.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mountain flicking seeds over the floor, aiming for Dipshit’s boots.

“Twenty five cents.” Kitt says, eyes rapidly flickering between the crazy person trying to rob her and the crazy person acting like the robbery isn't happening. Dew stares at her, tries to communicate it's going to be okay with his eyes alone but he's no quintessence ghoul. For all the good he’s doing, she could might only see even more violence in his unblinking eyes. Dew takes his quarter.

“Thanks.” He says, keeping his tone warm and even. “Hey, you wanna see a coin trick?”

Before anyone can react, he turns swiftly, flicking the quarter straight at Dipshit's skull, terminal velocity but not terminal impact. It nails him square between his eyebrows and he yells, free hand flying to his forehead and that's when Dew moves. He grabs the arm holding the gun and aims it up, yelling for Mountain who snaps his fingers and all Dew sees is thick green stems bursting up, growing rapidly, twining around anything they can reach for support. One sprouts up between their bodies, pushing Dew to safety and deftly wrapping Dipshit up in sturdy greenery, a comically large blossom blooming as it grew up and up.

Something clicks above his head and Dew realizes it's the trigger. He feels like dying of some strange emotion; the cylinder is empty, there was never a threat to begin with.

“Oops.” Mountain says as it pushes harder and harder on the ceiling tiles until the cheap boards give way and the plants can grow, breaking through the wiring, lights flickering before going out. More and more of them, choking out every artificial advertisement, knocking over shelves and stands. 

“Go!” Mountain yells, scrambling up and they go; two through the main door, Kitt through some employee entrance to the side. They run to the street, still, miraculously empty and turn around to watch mother nature's reclamation in awe.

“We're so fucked.” Dew mutters as they survey the gigantic ic greenery only grow larger and larger, mutant blooms bending on pillar-thick stems in search of sunlight.

“It was the adrenaline.” Mountain says defensively.  "Let's blame it on Poison Ivy." .

"The," Dew splutters, turning to him.  "The fucking DC supervillain? Mount, you know she's not real."

"Real to me."

"She's in love with that mannequin girl."

"Harley Quinn. I would never come between them, I just want to be near her."

"Fuckin' weirdo."

"Weirdo fuckin'." Mountain replies cryptically, reaching into his pocket for a fresh and unopened packet of seeds. The pickle flavored kind, Dew notes, some part of him wondering if the experience would have been any weirder if the flowers reeked of pickles.

You know you're supposed to spit the shells out, right?" He asks as Mountain eats a handful.

"Oh please, you love it when I swallow." 

"Don't come crying to me about your torn asshole then." Dew crosses his arms. Mountain leans in close, nudging him so hard he has to brace himself to keep from falling.

"Mmm, delicious wood chips, I love fiber."

“We should go.” Dew says, hardly caring if Mountain makes fun of his wide grin. This is the best he's felt without a cheering audience involved. They saved the day. He helped a human. For being a demon, this whole “selfless” thing actually felt pretty good.

Mountain rummages around in th bag again, pulling out his stupid novelty shades and placing them on his face. Electric blue, with a yellow squiggle pattern and orange triangles.

"Sunglasses at night?" Dew asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't switch a blade on the guy in the shades." Mountain says, unwrapping a Swiss roll and taking a big bite. His other hand offers up the twin to the chomped one. Dew scoffs and grabs it, taking a bite and doing a very good job at hiding the way he gags over the stale spongy cake and old sugar of the frosting, thank you very much.

They get back to the hotel, sliding the key card into the door as the first police car drives up. As quietly as they can, they tiptoe back to their room and slide into bed, snuggling up together under the sheets. One minute passes. Two. Dew feels his eyelids finally grow heavy with sleep and sighs, cuddling up close to Mountain in a way he'll vehemently deny in the morning when it hits him.

"Mountain?"

"Sup." 

"We forgot the fucking laundry."

[ghoultrifle]

mushy may day two !!!!

prompt: late night snacks

relationship: mountain/swiss (psp psp @hypnoneghoul)

word count: 800

summary: Mountain can't sleep, Swiss saves the day (night) with a delectable treat from the kitchen.

below the cut or on ao3 :))

A sudden shuffle of slippers against the hardwood startles Mountain. He whips his head round, a deer in the headlights of the light emanating from Swiss’ phone.

With a hand up to his face, shielding his eyes, he asks, “What the fuck Swiss?! I could’ve had a knife in my hand, what do you think you’re do-” He’s silenced by a warm embrace from the multi ghoul.

“Tough night, bush baby?”

And just like that Mountain melts into Swiss’ touch. The other just has a way of talking that soothes him, reminds him he’s safe.

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind with my element ‘n stuff.” He admits, “Thought I escaped without disturbing you but clearly not, ‘m sorry.”

Swiss’ heart melts at the change in tone, pressing a chaste kiss to Mount’s hair before tousling it and letting go.

“You didn’t disturb me love, just woke up and wondered where you’d gone, it’s not like you.” It’s not. He’s always down by ten o’clock of an evening and up at five the next morning. With the change of season, a new year springing into life, it’s overwhelming for the earth ghoul. Each and every sprout, bulb, and flower creates a cacophony of noises, at best thunderous and at worst, frightening. “You wanted a snack?”

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he shrugs. “Would normally go to the greenhouse but,” he pauses, “but…”

“Yeah,” Swiss agrees. He doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t have to. Elemental chaos wreaks havoc on the best of ghouls. Just like heat cycles, the pack understands when concessions need to be made. For some, like Mountain and Rain, their elements are tied to the seasons. Cumulus and Cirrus really struggle on tour with the changing climates, it throws them out of kilter for whole legs sometimes, always chasing the relative peace of the Ministry’s atmosphere. Quintessence ghouls struggle awfully whenever new summons are around. The constant questioning and learning filters through their element and it can take years sometimes for it to die down. It’s why the Ministry prefers to transition ghouls sometimes instead of summoning new ones.

Wordlessly, Swiss makes his way to the cupboard, reaching out for various jars and cartons.

“Never had a midnight snack before.” Mountain confesses, turning his head away in shame. It doesn’t surprise the other ghoul but he feigns surprise for him anyway, gasping.

“What has the spring done to my pure, innocent flower? It’s like I don’t even recognise him anymore!” He drags out, dramatically flailing his arms as if he’s about to faint. “I’m only pulling your leg, Mount, I’m just excited for you to taste the Reese’s peanut butter cup sandwich experience.” He says with a smile. Mountain has a look of disdain on his face, secretly enamoured behind his disappointed exterior.

“I don’t even want to know.” He’s holding back a smile now, but determined to keep a straight face at least until he lays his eyes on the abomination Swiss is about to create.

“Oh but you do! You see it’s two slices of bread where you put chocolate spread on one and peanut butter on the other. Now,” he continues, narrating his actions, “you might be thinking, where’s the crunch?! Well, that’s where the cornflakes come in, you just sprinkle those in, put the slices together and bam!” He cheers at an unacceptable volume for two o’clock in the morning, “The sandwich is complete. Eat up baby!” Swiss gleams, holding the experience up to Mountain’s face.

A grimace plasters itself across the earth ghoul’s face, apprehension fuelled by a mild disgust for Swiss’ tastes, he only came down here for a mandarin. Before Swiss either forces it past Mountain’s lips or eats it himself, he decides to take a bite, the crunch reverberating through the kitchen.

Mountain’s eyes go wide before he takes a moment to clear his throat and neutralise his face once more, adamant he won’t let Swiss win. It’s too late, however, and Swiss is practically glowing with excitement, “I told you! It’s good, hmm?”

“If I say yes will you leave me alone with my midnight snack?”

“Not a chance, pretty boy, eat up!”

The unwavering excitement of his boyfriend never fails to rub off on Mountain, and he’s thankful for it every day. He makes quick work of the sandwich, offering the occasional bite to the creator, though he graciously declines, instead opting to lick the rogue spot of peanut butter off the earth ghoul’s nose once he’s done.

“Tastes much better on you.” He grins.

“I’m sure it does, baby.” Mountain blushes, “Now come on, I think the stodginess of your sandwich is sending me to sleep.” He adds, dragging Swiss by the arm, leaving the mess to whoever gets up first in the morning, it certainly won’t be either of them.

[kagoutiss]

I kind of love how you have all these interesting hcs for Ganondorf like animals loving him, his weird dynamic with Sheik, the approval he seeks from his mothers etc. while at the same time being like “he’s a horrible gremlin and bloodthirsty and no one would want to stay near him”. I feel like it really captures how absurd and chaotic he is. Thank you for your service.

oh…im holding this ask very gently…..this means a lot to me because like!! yeah all these things are sort of true to me and i feel like he’s one of those characters where the more you dissect him, the more discordant things you find, and yet they all somehow intertwine in a way that makes him compelling and whole :-) retroactively putting a warning here that i ended up talking a lot and going pretty off-track but. like,,, one of the main roots of his absurdity to me is that he just has these fundamental problems with connecting with people (outside of clever manipulation, which he is good at), which are very effective at driving people away, even when he genuinely loves them, and i think he does this thing constantly where he wants people to despise him and he wants people to think the worst of him, because he is so much more comfortable with that than just? learning how to actually differentiate between love & hatred? and to not immediately feel threatened by gestures of love as some kind of deception, because he probably can’t quite make out the difference? despite having such a high level of emotional intelligence otherwise? and this primarily ties in with the idea that the biggest most terrifying enemy he has ever known in his entire life has been the neighboring kingdom, which professes to be the epitome of love & light & benevolence while at the same time committing the most egregious hateful bloody acts of cruelty in the darkest recesses of kakariko’s catacombs

and like. i think all of his formative experiences have still led to him being fully capable of things like feeling love, but also consequently not having the faintest idea of what the definition of that actually is, or how it works, or how to relate to someone you care about without just projecting all your own experiences onto them, or communicating your affection in ways other than just. being mean. and him purposely antagonizing people who do love him and are kind to him is a kneejerk reaction that he might not even realize is nonsensical, just a way of avoiding the most fundamentally disconcerting thing he knows, which is the ambiguity of something that claims to be kind or good. and so i think he‘d find a weird comfort in things that either don’t have that ambiguity, or subvert it entirely

like animals! who are far less capable of deception, or monsters, who like him, are deemed inherently evil. or spirits, who shouldn’t technically even be bound by the concepts of good & evil, even less applicable to wayward souls than to living beings. above all other humans though, he is definitely closest to his surrogate mothers, who supposedly are the true highest authorities of the gerudo tribe, and who treat him more like a deity than a son, and might moreso love the idea of what they want him to be, rather than the person he is. and he is in fact mortal, and a human being, and extremely flawed, and prone to recklessness under stress, and makes silly mistakes, and is emotionally unstable, with an attention span that doesn’t actually seem particularly well-suited to politics or government. and i accidentally wrote way too much in one sitting again, but.

but yeah, he’s like. my point is he is so full of things. he is completely absurd and chaotic and yet also i think there are recognizable patterns in what he does, if you think about him way too hard for way too long. he’s an infuriating swiss watch of a person that functions with seemingly inexplicable precision, but is made to say rude things to you instead of showing you the time, and yet you can’t really judge him too harshly after making the difficult effort of trying to understand him, because it becomes more & more evident that. that’s just. the way he is. that that’s the inevitable way that he came together, entirely due to circumstance. he’s a reflection of the completely nonsensical universe that he lives in, an antagonist since the day he was born, defined as such by the world’s Inherently Good Authorities, who are themselves objectively guilty of mass kidnapping, torture, murder, displacement and genocide, and yet are still, by the immutable definitions of these words as they’ve established them, Good. and i NEED to go to bed but yeah i love him for being a horrible insufferable bitch, actually, because it’s meaningful in and of itself, and i love him for not being normal, and having unmanageable fears of inadequacy, and mommy issues, and ADHD and autism, and for bullying teenagers, and being more fond of monsters & parasites than people, and literally using his emotions as a weapon, and referring to himself as king of every evil thing in existence, and almost never bothering to explain his actual motivations to people who he knows have already decided that he is the crux of all the world’s problems, because he’s fully internalized that trying to be understood by anyone at all is completely pointless. wife material

[jazz-bazz]

Lab Coat AU

very self indulgent au (sometimes also kinda diary dump) bcs this major stressing me out and ghouls make things better… so might as well stress out the ghouls by projecting, also kinda manifesting 🤞

the idea came from talking about ghouls with @hypnoneghoul when we’re both in class 😬 and i thought ‘nuclear scientist dew with a messy bun in lab goggles’ then @alwaysjustmina asked me about it and she wrote a little something (thank you so much 🖤) and i ran with it… and it took a 90° turn bcs it ended up being different, though the coffee shop is still there and phantom also works there, but now rain is also a scientist and everyones a scientist and some are professors, and yeah, you get it

the general idea is that they’re all scientists working in the same building, though they have different topics and are working for different degree levels, but theyre close friends, even the profs are also nice and chill (unlike mine)

on the weekends they do various things, but often get together for some down time at zenith, copias bar. oh and they also often get lunch together at terzo‘s diner or snacks at the coffee shop phantoms working at

dew and rain are pining for each other (so said the other ghouls who have a bet going on, actually theyve been secretly dating since their fifth semester, and rain is planning to propose after they’re both done with their phds but dew got there first 😂, copia knows bcs rain was drunk)

copia and aether are dating, sunshine and mountain have been on several dates and we’re just waiting for mountain to ask her out, swiss is courting phantom and phantoms also crushing on aurora…

who else hmm… i kinda wanna have zephfrit but i have no idea how to connect their storylines… and cirrus cumulus… i have too many ghouls and no idea how to connect them 😭

under the cut i put their research topics and the degree theyre working on, and also what they do on weekends, which is not gonna interest anyone but me but 🤷‍♀️

side note : these are inspired by real professors and lab supervisors in my own university, and also the building layout are also kinda based on my own, and some misc facts too… okay im basing a lot of this on my own uni 😬 let me make make my life sounds more interesting than it actually is okay, and also i need distractions

side side note : im aiming to do my bachelor‘s degree end of this year, and my current plan is to do it in the group im basing mist‘ from… who knows how that will go, but hey, manifesting

also special mention to you guys who patiently read through my ramblings @webbyghoul @sexy-sea-basss and @mikorsghouls who said you wanted to hear about this

OrgChem :

Mist -> (Prof) Photosensitive molecules in biological processes

Rain -> (PhD) Bioluminescence for cancer research, has etsy shop for crochet plushies

Cumulus -> (Prof) Environmentally friendly substitutes, weekends volunteer at hospital

Mountain -> (PhD) CFC for environment, helps at the family owned flower shop

Swiss -> (Master) SF6 substitute for cooling mediums, sings at local bar on weekends

TheoChem :

Cirrus -> (Prof) Highly precise method to research the structure of matter and fundamental interactions, coffee shop manager for weekends

Zephyr -> (PhD) Vibronic effects in electronic transitions, play piano with Swiss at the bar

Cowbell -> (Master) Compounds of heavy elements and their properties

PhysChem :

Omega -> (Prof) Quintessence / Dark energy and dark matter, volunteer at the hospital on weekends

Dew -> (PhD) Nuclear physics for dark matter, interaction of WIMP (weakly interacting massive particles) with nuclear matter (modeling the WIMP-Nucleus interaction), teaches some kids guitar on weekends or evenings

Aether -> (PhD) Dark energy and Einstein’s theory of gravity

(these 3 are less physchem and more just phys)

Alpha -> (Prof) Surface chem for harvest, storage, and transformation of energy

Sunshine -> (Master) Development of long lasting low cost solid batteries, work at the city library on weekends

InorgChem :

Special -> (Prof) Controlled electron transfer at heavy metal complexes

Ifrit -> (Master) Metalorganic catalysts from transition metals

Aurora -> (Undergrad) Med student, coffee shop regular

Phantom -> (Undergrad) Chem, coffee shop barista

[hellboundwrites]

GHOULS HALLOWEEN COSTUMES

Halloween season has arrived, and I've decided to note some of the headcanons that I've had in mind for the ghouls recently.

Here are my favorite ghouls / by elements

🪐Omega = he's not really a Halloween guy. I mean, they already wear costumes. He can't be bothered to put effort into it. Just to fit in, and because it makes his companions happy, he'll dress up as an alternative version of ghouls. He might come out of the abbey in his true form because it's the perfect opportunity for it, or just add something to his usual look that enhances the "infernal" aesthetic. In the end, he's the one ghoul that actually scares people away, even without trying.

🪐Aether = always wears handmade costumes. It's elaborated with a lot of details but comfy. Halloween is for him the best opportunity to create a look for himself that he usually wouldn't have the courage to wear daily. He might cosplay as a 70-80's rockstar for example, and you'd recognize who he's supposed to be from miles away. Also more importantly, he's the costume-nurse. He always makes sure his costume has an integrated bag or pockets for glue and stitches. Last year for example, he was a jedi, and he was very happy about being able to wear a discreet tool belt.

🪐Phantom = of course, a vampire. But he'll only wear something dark and classic. Think old horror movies. He'll have his hair pull back, very bad fake fangs, red contacts, a cape… He'll also be fully invested in his role all night, so expect to hear some old English come out of his mouth at all times. Just call him by his character's name exclusively !

⛈Zephyr = loves having costumes that include his disabilities. Although he can walk just fine, going trick-or-treating is very long and difficult for him. He decorated his wheelchair as the Scooby-Doo van last year. He's done a lot of physical therapy this year though and feels excited about trying canes instead.

⛈Cirrus = she likes opening to kids that trick-or-treat at the Abbey's doors. In consequence, she will usually wear something that'll be easy to understand for them. Can be a simple witch, Morticia, Emily from the Corpse Bride… Last year she was Maleficient. Her costumes are never modest, though. She puts a lot of work into looking believable. It's a lot of organization and stress, but she always cherishes the kids' reaction in the end.

⛈Cumulus = She's always something evil. She doesn't cosplay as anyone in particular, and only makes her own looks. She loves elaborated makeup. She can paint her whole body if she desires too. Don't ask her who she's supposed to look like, this is always an original from her collection. She's here to impress.

🌿Mountain. Mountain... = he always fails his costumes. Nothing fits him. He never plans long enough in advance for it to work. He's disappointed about it every year, and still can't manage to fix it. This year though, he finally gathered the courage to ask for help. He'll have Sunshine to help him find clothes, and Cumulus for the hair and makeup. He'd like to be a hobbit, but he's starting to think he'll be more believable if he cosplays Gandalf - of course, he's not really hobbit-sized. If he can have an excuse to smoke all night, well...

🔮Sunshine = she doesn't have time for costumes. Her main concern is to be the party's organiser. Before she joined the Project, the ghouls had never planned any kind of gathering together for Halloween. She wants to be with her family and that's the only thing that counts. She'll just put something a bit festive, do her hair and put on some "scary" makeup, (which for her is dark shadow and eyeliner). Maybe washable dye or glitter in her hair this time around ? Nothing that can make dancing and running around uncomfortable !

🔮Swiss = is there a better opportunity to be naked ? On Halloween, his sole missions are to 1.be sexy 2.dance. Whatever year it is, his shirt is always wide open and tucked in his pants to enhance his tight waist, his chest always exposed, and his feet always moving... He doesn't mind any addition of costume or makeup that will make him prettier, but never purposefully goes that way by himself. 🔮Aurora = absolutely has the most feminine costume you'll see the entire night. She cannot not be hot, but maybe not as intensely as Swiss. She's the girl that wears the bunny outfit, the Barbie outfit, the Tinkerbell or Daphne outfit... The hair is down and the skirt is mini. Her only rule is : sexy but always secure. She has to wear warm tights and good shoes. Being pretty shouldn't stop you from running, jumping, and staying up all night. Special mention : this year, since it's their first Halloween together, they want to do a hot-couple-costume.

🌊Rain = has the boring but cute costume. If you don't know him, you can't really see how it's a costume most of the time - to be honest he always looks like that. He just genuinely doesn't need more material than what he already has. He thinks dressing up is cool but hates having to spend his whole night adjusting his costume or being careful with it. Last year he was the Phantom of the Opera, but he found the mask restraining. This year he's thinking about maybe a proper suit, a hat, his usual jewels and a bit of makeup. With some luck it'll pass as a period costume.

🌊 Mist = will always hide herself under her costume. You can never recognize her. The only thing she cares about, is surprising others. If she dresses as a character, it'll be a slay version of them. This year she's doing the Grinch, so expect green manucure, a pink dress and fake eyelashes on that green fursuit. Count on her to wear bad bald caps and colored paint all over her body. She doesn't take herself too seriously and is only here to have fun.

🔥Alpha = much like Omega, doesn't care about Halloween. You'll find him doing his actual job in the Abbey, at the yearly ritual that none of the new ghouls have the decency to assist. Traditions are really lost with the young generations...

🔥Ifrit = was, is, and will always be the guy who shows his muscles. He's into action movies and old rockstars, so it's only ordinary that he dresses as such. He'll be Han Solo, or Freddy Mercury, or Wolverine. Ifrit has the softest heart out there, but he's peak masculinity when it comes to looks, and he cares about his heroes. Right now, he's into 00's sci-fi/horror and still searching for some cool costume that will stick to his skin just *right*.

🔥Finally, Dewdrop = Don't ask stupid questions. Don't joke about Halloween with him. Don't even make suggestions. He has already had everything planned since November 1st. He has notebooks full of dark designs for corpse paint that involve fake (or real ?) blood, and a wide range of colored face paints in his drawer just for that event. He'll spend his afternoon looking for the perfect color, and he'll do intricate designs with extremely thin brushes on his face before the night starts. Dewdrop needs to look like he just sacrificed something in an old forest and burnt a church. He loves the theatrics of wearing long dark robes and being covered in blood. Halloween truly is his way to express himself and explore his own graphic world.

If you come across this post and see your fave missing, feel free to add your headcanon for them.

[justforbooks]

Nicholas Shakespeare’s elegant biography of the James Bond author Ian Fleming takes its subtitle from a journalist’s observation, quoted halfway through, that its subject was “for a moment of time, a complete man” while working for British naval intelligence in the second world war. Yet you can’t help read it as a promise to give the reader what was left out of previous biographies such as John Pearson’s crisp, more portable authorised life from 1966. And is there a claim, too, for the alpha male credentials of the man called “Flemingway” by his friend Noël Coward? Journalist, stockbroker, thriller writer and – like his famous creation – a playboy and 70-a-day smoker, who died of a heart attack in 1964 at the age of 56 after a plagiarism row over the origins of Thunderball, the ninth Bond novel.

After a dutiful account of how Fleming’s Scottish financier grandfather became a millionaire – later cutting Fleming and his brothers out of his will – Shakespeare gets going with his subject’s troubled boyhood in the shadow of his father’s death in the first world war. Family friends in Switzerland take his education in hand after hasty exits from Eton (hanky-panky with a woman) and Sandhurst (gonorrhoea). His exams aren’t good enough for the Foreign Office; an engagement to a Swiss lover ends amid maternal threats to cut off his allowance. He falls on his feet at Reuters – it was that kind of life – further honing his knack for a scoop at the Sunday Times, a handy source of contacts for his war work.

Testimony woven from diaries, papers and interviews gives the book a flavour of oral history. Shakespeare goes to great lengths – not least tracking down a 94-year-old veteran, the last surviving member of a covert commando unit that Fleming organised – to dispel the idea that Fleming’s service, occluded by state-sanctioned secrecy, was just “in-trays, out-trays and ashtrays”. The book’s first half puts the future author at the heart of military and journalistic history – a search for German weapons of mass destruction; the race to get an inside scoop on the Cambridge spies – as well as the bedroom shenanigans of the English well-to-do. (Shakespeare, who encourages us at one point to smile at the mention of a “germanely” named Nazi admiral, Assmann, shows his assumptions of his audience when he writes confidently of “that small, turn-of-the-century intellectual clique, the Souls”.)

Fleming may be “the man behind James Bond”, in the subtitle of Andrew Lycett’s 1995 biography, but Shakespeare’s project, you sense, is partly to say there’s more to him. Eager to prove Fleming’s interest beyond the reasons that will draw most of his readers to the book, he is almost comically insistent on the degree to which his subject was ahead of the curve. Not only might he have sparked the idea of creating the CIA – in a memo written when the US-UK special relationship was being forged – but he also came up with the idea of putting a Christmas tree from Oslo in Trafalgar Square.

As for the dozen Bond novels that poured out of Fleming after 1953’s Casino Royale – written in a month in his winter bolthole in Jamaica a year earlier – they were, in Shakespeare’s telling, essentially the literary expression of a midlife crisis accelerated by the encroachments of fatherhood and a faithless union as the third husband of Ann Charteris. They had got together with an affair that caused a high-society scandal during her previous marriage to the Daily Mail heir Esmond Harmsworth; she later cheated on Fleming with the Labour leader Hugh Gaitskell, who told him that the “sex, violence, alcohol” formula of the Bond novels was “to one who leads such a circumscribed life as I do, irresistible”.

Fleming, injecting the American dirt of Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer novels into the English thriller, launched 007 on what Shakespeare calls the “spam-munching gloom of Attlee’s Britain”, writing (Fleming told his publisher) in order to make “as much money... as possible” and to have “as much fun as I personally can”. Respectable sales rocketed when JFK took a shine to From Russia, with Love – and the movies were yet to come. While Fleming was self-deprecating – telling Raymond Chandler the Bond novels were “straight pillow fantasies of the bang-bang, kiss-kiss variety” – he was proud enough to greet the director of the first Bond movie, Dr No, by telling him: “So they’ve decided on you to fuck up my work.”

“Luck had to be accepted with a shrug or taken advantage of up to the hilt,” Bond thinks in Casino Royale; he sees luck “as a woman, to be softly wooed or brutally ravaged, never pandered to or pursued”. Squint enough and Fleming took some care to cast his main character in ironic light. Early in that novel, the reader gets a fly-on-the-wall thrill of watching fieldwork in action, with the scene of theatrical care Bond takes to ensure his hotel room isn’t being searched; but soon enough his French sidekick turns up to let Bond know his upstairs neighbours have been listening in to his every move.

In Shakespeare’s biography, the novels are mostly a source of supporting quotation – he doesn’t get bogged down in questions of what it means to read Bond now, confining himself to a remark on how his “cavalier treatment of women... carried the sexual climate of the Blitz into the austerity of the cold war, and was less modern perhaps than it was later cracked up to be”. And perhaps there’s no need for his defenders to overstate the case for Fleming’s novelistic subtlety. Bond has always been shaped by a collective amnesia that allows us to make him what we wish him to be at any given moment; when he parachuted into the Olympic opening ceremony with the queen, it was as the best of British, not as a connoisseur of (Fleming’s words) “the sweet tang of rape”.

The novels, in a way, are irrelevant to 007, but the course of history would surely have run otherwise had Fleming not had the foresight to change his protagonist’s name from the original “James Secretan” – Fleming’s typescript revision perhaps his most significant literary act.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[hotcryptidsinyourarea]

Falling for the Frogman of Loveland, Ohio

story synopsis: Molly is a 30-something cookbook editor who has decided to move from New York to Loveland, Ohio after a bad breakup and a desire for a fresh start. She is instantly attracted to her neighbor Jeremiah's midwestern charms, but this local guy is much more than meets the eye...

human (she/her) + interdimensional humanoid frogman (he/him) cw: lurking

Chapter 2

I come back from the grocery store with plenty of my staple favorites and a few treats to keep me motivated throughout the evening. I put the groceries away haphazardly then turn my attention to the business of getting as much of the house in order as possible. I was able to get the electricity, water, and gas set up before my arrival, but unfortunately I couldn’t get the internet turn on in time. I have that scheduled for tomorrow, thank god, because I am a modern woman who needs her internet access, dammit! I refuse to be disconnected. Fortunately, my cell phone reception is excellent and my data plan is unlimited, so I pick out a podcast and stream it on my phone’s speaker while I get to work. I’m practically a pioneer woman out here getting back to nature. 

I don’t have too much to do this evening considering the bulk of my belongings aren’t here yet, but I still have those few boxes of essentials I need to unpack. Plus, I had my brand new mattress and bed frame delivered and ready to build. The delivery people were even kind enough to put the boxes in the backyard to reduce the chances of them being porch pirated. That part of the house is closed in, but the short picket fence itself is more about form than function. It’s easy enough for anyone to reach over it and unlock the gate that separates front and back. And at the back of the property, you can see clear over it to a small creek that runs perpendicular to my block, so anyone who may be walking back there could hypothetically look right into my yard. The exposure doesn’t bother me, per se, but I do wonder if such a backyard setup is ideal or if I’ll need to invest in something more secure in the future. I guess even if you don’t buy a fixer upper, home ownership is a promise of continuous renovation projects. It’s a good thing I have plenty of time on my hands in the months ahead. If only those hands were also equipped with the DIY skills I’ll need to tackle the agenda. I'm not a particularly handy gal, but I guess no one is until they try. And I might as well start with the relatively simple job of putting my bed together.

Whatever silly online bed-in-a-box company I used even had a deal where I could get a new frame, mattress, pillows, and bedding for a bundled price, so there are multiple boxes back there. I drag them inside and settle them one by one in the master bedroom before using the Swiss army knife my dad gave me for my 13th birthday to open them. Assembling the bed isn’t difficult– even with my lack of handywoman acumen– but it does take a while to actually complete. By the time I’m done, the room is a maze of boxes stuffed with plastic wrap and random cardboard pieces used to package the whole kit-and-kaboodle. It’s absolutely a mess, but I have a bed. No matter how much or how little I do for the rest of the day, I’ll be able to tuck in at the end of it for a good night’s sleep. I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, even though I’m basically doing the bare minimum. 

Wanting some fresh air after my radical act of self-sufficiency, I drag the boxes back out into the yard and start breaking them down and bagging the rest to throw in the trash. Once I’m done, I figure I’ll stay outside to poke around the property a bit and give my brain a break in hopes it will recuperate enough for me to tackle another task. One of the things that really drew me to this home in particular was the aforementioned little creek that runs behind this block of homes. It’s not much– the depth won’t even clear my knees– but it’s still a gorgeous little slice of nature. I enjoy the gentle sounds of the running water and dip my toes in it. The water is cool and clear, but clouded with the silt of the creek bottom. A school of tiny fish with swatches of red-orange along their throats rush past my toes and I take it as a good sign. Immediately spotting wildlife surely means the creek is healthy, though I don’t claim to be an expert in the matter. 

I notice the sunlight waning and head back inside. While there is still a good deal of unpacking I need to do, I’m also pretty hungry. It is time to make good with the groceries I packed up earlier. I pour myself a glass of wine and turn on the oven to preheat. Then I grab the multi-colored heirloom tomatoes, focaccia, fresh mozzarella, and pre-made pesto I picked up at the store and start preparing dinner. In my opinion, there isn’t a food combination out there that can top carb + tomato + cheese + green. No matter how you slice it, no matter how you spice it: it always hits. Grilled cheese with arugula and tomato soup? Sublime. Saag paneer with rice and tomato chutney? Mouthwatering. Cheesy spinach enchiladas with red sauce and pico de gallo? Que ricos. The spices may vary and the composition may shift, but with those four pillars as a foundation, you set yourself up for success.

It wouldn’t surprise a single person that knows me to find out the first real thing I do in my new home is cook a meal. Next to spending an entire day binging reality dating shows, cooking is what feels most natural to me. Taking a bunch of individual ingredients and transforming them into a completely new, separate product is about as close to real magic as I’ll ever get in this world. And there’s something meditative about the process. When I’m cooking, my mind isn’t on the ex boyfriend who left me or the uncertainty of my future in a new place where I don’t know a single person. All my attention is focused on slicing these tomatoes at a uniform width so they cook through evenly on top of the focaccia halves I’ve prepared with extra virgin olive oil and diced garlic. I arrange the tomato slices on the bread, alternating between colors to create a stunning visual. I pop the topped focaccia halves in the oven for the ensemble to bake through for about 10 minutes before taking them out and laying circles of mozzarella on top of the composition. I switch the oven to broil and back inside go my little toasts. I allow the broiler to melt the mozzarella and then some until I see a spattering of tiny burnt sienna leopard spots form on the surface before I remove them and drizzle with the bright and herbaceous pesto. Normally, I’d like to make my own sauces, but given my circumstances and limited kitchen accoutrement, I make do. I finish it all with a bit of fresh cracked pepper and a sprinkle of parmesan before I head outside to enjoy the first meal in my new home.

The old owners left a slightly rusted wrought iron patio set in the backyard and the night is warm and quiet, so it’s as good a place as any for me to eat. The chairs aren’t very comfortable and the table is a bit wobbly, but it works. I make a mental note to look up DIY wrought iron restoration projects for inspiration. I’ll have plenty of time for projects like that while I’m getting my footing in Loveland. Oh god, I’m going to become one of those girls whose life revolves around her “projects.” Maybe I’ll make an Instagram account where I document all my before and after photos. My dad has been getting on to me about establishing a secondary income stream now that I’m a homeowner. 

But for now, I just want to enjoy my dinner and the satisfaction of finally being in my new place. My little caprese-focaccia pizza thing came out beautifully, but I think next time instead of pesto, It'd be better topped with fresh arugula and a drizzling of balsamic reduction to cut the richness of the cheese. I’m taking a sip of wine when a quick spark catches my eye. Then another– then another… Fireflies! Having a house that backs up to a creek means I’m located smack dab in the middle of their breeding grounds. I can’t help but smile as more and more luminescent flashes dance around the yard. It’s beautiful. I can’t even remember the last time I saw fireflies in the city. Sometimes you can spot them in the parks, but I read at some point that their numbers are rapidly declining due to habitat loss. But out here, there’s plenty of them bouncing around my yard and creating a veritable light show just for me. Maybe cooking isn’t the only magic left in the world. Maybe there’s more.

I take a sip of wine and breathe. I feel the tension ease from my body and think for the first time in many years, I am exactly where I am supposed to be. 

But that comfort is short-lived. I hear a rustling in that dark that indicates I am not alone. I hear the splash of water– whatever it is, it’s somewhere down by the creek. It could be a raccoon, but my gut is telling me it must be something bigger to make that noise. Are there bears in Ohio? Or mountain lions? Surely if there are, they wouldn’t be traipsing around the suburbs, right? And would a wild animal be any more or less dangerous than the alternative– a stranger? 

“Hello?” I ask the darkness. “Is somebody out there?” 

I can feel my pulse quicken all the way up in my ears. Whatever– or whoever– is out there has triggered my somatic system into high alert. All the tension that had previously melted from my body is slowly building back up. My gut is telling me to go inside, but I can’t move. I argue with my intuition internally– 

Surely you’re just being paranoid! Am I paranoid or is this the beginning of a new true crime docu-series where the Big City Lady gets hacked to death in Ohio because she doesn’t take the dangers of the midwest seriously.  Okay, well that is a bit macabre, don’t you think?  Macabre or realistic– remember that show about Jeffrey Dahmer? He killed people in Ohio! Jeffrey Dahmer only killed men.  Girl. Don’t make excuses for Jeffrey Dahmer. I may be the voice inside your head, but even I know that’s crazy. You… may have a point there. 

I hear another rustle and the splash of moving water again and the voice inside my head turns into a screaming alarm. Adrenaline shoots through my body and I gather the remnants of my meal and book it back inside, locking the back patio door behind me. I may just be a paranoid idiot freaking out over the harmless presence of the native fauna of the Great State of Ohio, but I don’t really care at the moment. As a woman in my 30s, I know the value of being safe rather than sorry. Hell, a woman of any age should understand it. You feel that lurch in your stomach, you get the fuck out of there. No time for questions, no doubts– you simply have to get your ass up and away before you have the time to really find out.

So instead of beating myself up wondering if I should give the Mystery Lurker a chance to prove they’re harmless, I clean up my dishes, pour another glass of wine, and double check that all my doors and windows are secure. Then after I wash my face, brush my teeth, and change into my nightgown, I tuck into my brand new bed, pull out my phone, and browse dog listings from the local animal shelter for a bit to distract myself from whatever spooked me out there. Thankfully, the bed is very comfortable and the events of the day were sufficiently taxing, so when I feel my eyes grow heavy, I log off and plug my phone in to recharge through the night. I close my eyes and fall asleep in no time at all, comforted by the protection of my new home. 

At least, for now.

[ghuleh-recs]

★ Ghost Fandom Fic Rec Tag ★

VERY annoyed about the anon hate I’m seeing in my favorite writers’ ask boxes lately. So! I thought I'd live up to my username. Let’s appreciate some amazing writers and rec some fucking fics.

Rules (re: loose guidelines)

Pick some fics from your AO3 bookmarks or your likes/reblobs here on tumblr, and post them with links and a blurb about it. Maybe a summary or just a reason you liked it. As many or as few as you feel like sharing. Then, as one does, tag your friends.

This is a ZERO pressure tagging situation—if you’re too busy or don’t feel like participating, no biggie at allll. Let’s just spread some love and positivity shall we?

I’ll go first (some slightly spoiler-y descriptions ahead):

[REC] and 1080P by @st-danger We've got some absolutely delicious vulnerable Dew x completely smitten Swiss right here. Long story short, they send a video of Dew in panties to Aether. These are scorchingly hot. Part of Saint’s Kinktober series—which you better subscribe to if you haven’t already.

This Swiss x Aeon stoned hand kink ficlet from @crimsonclergy actually set my brain on fire yesterday. So there’s that.

This fic from @riconas featuring insecure Dew knotting Aether. A little desperate, a little mean, a LOT sexy.

A Touch Too Much by @miasmaghoul Hey have you ever wondered what would happen if Dew went into heat during a ritual? And how he might react to Papa singing about daddies and caressing him during KTGG? Hmm? You ever wonder about that?

It would tear me apart, it would haunt me forever (so much you'd never get to know) by @littlemoon-beam oh boy this is some stunningly good Dew angst. This fic will hurt your feelings and then you’re gonna thank Moon for it. She really blasted into this fandom like the Kool-aid guy and we are honestly so hashtag blessed for it.

Now for some reader-insert if that’s more your style.

Misaimed Desire by @violet-lazer Whoops. You accidentally texted Secondo something saucy and he summons you to his office. Whatever will he do to you? Part of her excellent First Kisses: Papal Edition series. Terzo is next so y'all better subscribe.

Banchetto by @angellayercake This. This right here is the good shit. Terzo is wasting away, not handling life after the Ghost Project well at all. Primo and Secondo enlist your help seeing as you’ve got some serious cooking skills. This is gorgeously written with some god tier slow burn and eventual smut. It’s a WIP but the most recent chapter is super satisfying, don’t you worry.

The Cardinal's Bride by @ramblingoak If you’re not following along with this, you’re REALLY missing out. This is pure bodice-ripper GOLD. Some of the most satisfying slow burn I have EVER read. I reread the whole thing every time Oak drops a new chapter.

The Prince by @kissingghouls Vampire!Terzo x slayer!reader need I say more? I am loving the latest installment of Suck Club (you should really read them all). Terzo is pathetic and wears crop tops and it has me actually kicking my heels and giggling as I read.

One last thing:

Leave a comment on ao3, or reply/reblog (with tags) here on the hellsite anything you enjoyed that someone else recommended. I dare you. The author might even reply and you’ll feel oh so special.

I tag: @littlemoon-beam, @rightintheghoulies, @myghemicalghostmance, @angellayercake, @ramblingoak, @neekocalico, @kissingghouls, @stede-bonnets and anyone reading this that also enjoys fanfic. Yeah you. I’m so serious. Don't test me, boy.

(Feel free to tag me back because I have soooo many others but this already got way too long.)

[forlorn-crows]

Hey Crow! :D I think this might be my first time sending you a ficlet request, how fun! I feel like your style would scratch a specific itch I have so well ❤️

So listen, I've been having this persistent migraine for *days*. It's not constantly blasting me with pain, sometimes it lowers into just a fuzz for a few hours and I think it's gone but then it builds back up and it smacks me in the face again. I'm very tired of said migraine loop and in need of my projection ghoul going through it and the pack helping them. May I please request Swiss dealing with a shitty headache and getting some comfort from someone? Any other ghoul is fine, or a group of them, all good, I just want my projection boyo being comforted and cared for. Can be gen, can be smutty cause Satan knows some fun play time can take your mind off of a headache alright, it's up to you.

If that's something you'd be interested in wreiting of course, no pressure!

Mushy May Day 11: Unspoken 'I love you's

a little quip about Swiss' raging headache coming up! featuring Aether and Sunshine. what says 'i love you' more than helping your packmate ease their pain without being asked?

Pairings: Aether/Swiss/Sunshine

Words: 715

Swiss grumbles in Sunshine’s lap, begging her thighs to smother him so he doesn’t have to feel the incessant throbbing behind his eyes anymore. He claws into his own hair as a spike of pain sears through his right temple, knocking his breath right out of his chest. 

Sunshine gently pries his fingers out of his hair and redirects them to latch onto the hem of the blanket scrunched around his shoulders instead. She pets his hair with soft, flat palms, offering what little warmth she can conjure. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in their infernal language, the curse sounding more like a hex on his tongue. 

“That bad?” Aether asks from the hallway. When the waves of pain emanating from his packmate started branching off in sulfuric tendrils across the void, the quintessence ghoul roused himself from the comfort of his bed, unable to relax while Swiss was suffering. 

Sunshine nods. Her expression is one of empathy and concern, eyebrows upturned as she regards Aether across the room. “Going on hour three, now,” she says, still running her hands across Swiss’ tight curls. I’m trying, she mouths with a sad smile. 

I know, Aether mouths back, genuine. 

“Brain feels like it’s in a fist fight with my skull,” Swiss mumbles. 

Aether motions for Sunshine to let him switch places with her. She settles on the other end of the couch, lifting Swiss’ feet into her lap. 

“You’ve just got such a big one,” he jokes in hushed tones. “Okay, marshmallow,” he soothes as Swiss grumbles at the displacement, “there you go.” 

Swiss buries his face into Aether’s lap just as deeply as he had with Sunshine. The quintessence ghoul runs a hand down his neck, running between his shoulder blades and back up again in long, slow motions. 

“These bodies of ours,” he begins quietly, “are fragile. The magick that runs through all of us, in each varied way, hits a limit, in which it has nowhere productive to go.” Aether’s fingers sparkle with that telltale ultraviolet hue, floating just under the base of Swiss’ skull now. “So it manifests as pain. You’d do well to let that glamour go sometimes, give that soul a little more room.” The words are targeted at Swiss, but it serves a gentle reminder for all of them, really. 

The multi-ghoul sighs heavily as Aether brings his hand to the crown of his head, pressing gently with his fingertips. Sunshine tentatively rubs little circles into his calf muscles. She observes the way Swiss’ shoulders melt into Aether’s lap at his touch, quintessence seeping into the pain-filled crevices of his brain and scooping it out with its magick tendrils. He groans with relief, tail finally uncurling from around his own thigh. The spaded tip falls limp to the floor with a soft thud. Sunshine can’t help but trill happily at the sight of Swiss finally relaxed. 

“But,” Aether continues softly, “we can’t face the burden of pain alone. As I’m sure Sunny already told you, marshmallow.” The ghoulette nods in agreement, having done her best to usher a curled-up multi-ghoul into her lap after breakfast once he started wincing.

“I know,” Swiss whines, voice muffled by Aether’s legs. Aether just chuckles, continuing to massage his magick along his scalp, trailing down his neck and shoulders every so often. But he knows there's an unspoken thank you in there somewhere.

The three sit in silence, Aether and Sunshine running their warm loving hands over their packmate until a low purr kicks up in his chest, the multi-ghoul finally and truly relieved. 

“Hey Aethe,” Sunshine chirps inquisitively after a while. 

“Hey Sunny,” he parrots back.

She giggles. “How come you call Swiss ‘marshmallow’?” Swiss snorts a laugh in Aether’s laugh. 

“Well, couple years ago there was this little packet of hot chocolate in one of the hotel rooms—you know, the drink Papa likes to carry around during the winter time and insist it’s actually coffee?” Sunshine nods. “I don’t know why I noticed it. But the brand was ‘Swiss Miss’.”

“The kind with mini marshmallows,” Swiss chimes in. 

“So,” Aether gestures vaguely, “marshmallow.”

“So dumb,” the multi-ghoul mumbles amusedly.

“I think he secretly likes it,” Aether stage whispers across the couch. Swiss shakes his head in defiance, rubbing his face in the quintessence ghoul’s lap, but Sunshine can hear him holding back laughter. 

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hi! As a fellow knitter with a love for embroidery and cosplay, your Grishaverse kniting projects sound amazing! 😍 Would you be willing to share progress photos as you go? Or perhaps talk a little more about the designs, patterns, or techniques you'll use? So excited for you!

-sixofcrowsdaydreams (side blog)

Hiya, thanks so much for your interest - I'd love to share more!

My current Grishaverse knitting projects are a Healer kefta (which will probably be more along the lines of kefta-inspired than an accurate reproduction because of the material etc) and a full-size blanket of the Six Of Crows book cover (uk/us paperback edition).

For the Kefta, I'm adapting a free cardigan pattern that I'll link if anyone would like it. The pattern outlines the structure and shaping, which is mostly what I'm using it for, but is designed in a specific basket rib that I'm not using; I decided to use stockinette stitch because I think that it will be easier to embroider since I'm planning on using the Swiss Darning method. I'm teaching myself the Swiss Darning method from the wonderful book "KNIT: step by step" (Vikki Haffenden and Frederica Patmore), which I absolutely love and highly recommend. I just checked and the RRP for the book is £14.99 but I got mine for £7.99 so it might be worth looking around for where it's cheapest. I'm knitting it with DK weight yarn and so far I have the back and two front pieces complete and am currently working on the first sleeve. I used a free digital art app called Ibis Paint X to sketch out my designs for the embroidery and then overlayed them with a grid - I'm treating each square as one stitch.

The blanket it being knit in chunky weight yarn using a fair isle pattern I designed by using the same digital art app to draw and the book cover, overlay it with a grid, pixelate it, and slightly simplify the colour scheme (that was mostly due to the availability of the yarn since there are so many shades of grey in the cover). I am relatively new to colourwork, or at the very least colourwork on this scale, and this was a massive undertaking I went into with unearned confidence. Unfortunately I have now realised a massive mistake I made in the fair isle technique that means I'm going to have to undo everything I've done so far and restart, but luckily I've realised it early enough that I'm not even a quarter of the way through the project yet; if I'd done more it would be more annoying, as it stands it's not too bad but it is a setback. I've yet to decide how I'm going to back the blanket once it's complete, I have two options: 1) sew it onto either white or black fleece, 2) knit a Crooked Kingdom book cover the same size and back them onto each other. The pros of the first one is that it would give it a finished and hopefully gorgeous look, plus would be super cosy. The pro of the second option is that it would be awesome, but the con is that it might not look as neat and finished. On top of that, if I back the first one with fleece I can then knit a Crooked Kingdom one and back that with fleece, which means I get two blankets. So yeah I haven't decided yet, but I'll see how it goes and keep you guys updated.

Thanks so much for your question! If anyone has any specific requests for me to talk about regarding the knitting patterns/processes/techniques/ etc then absolutely feel free and yeah if people are interested then I will definitely put some update photos on here as I go as well :)

[presidenthades]

Once again, I am doing a series of my behind-the-scenes thoughts for The Golds while I do light edits for formatting, typos, and continuity. Here’s Chapter 2!

(Note: I originally planned to put out these commentaries once a day, but I’ve been recruited for an urgent knitting/crochet project IRL so I might be a bit slow.)

For this chapter’s title, I chose the lyrics for the Father in “The Song of the Seven” because Aegon finds out he’s going to be a dad. 😳

Opening line: I wanted the reader to spend a half-second thinking Aegon was in the middle of a sexual activity 😂. Later in the chapter, both Daemon and Alicent briefly think he’s been out at the brothels, so I wanted to foreshadow that here. But it turns out Aegon just really likes pies.

Gyles and Ronnel were throwaway characters in my original plan, but they ended up being very important to the plot 😅. I took a brief line from Aegon’s letter in Chapter 3 of the Handbook, about him eating pies that were almost better than sex, and created Gyles from that. So Aegon’s been patronizing Gyles’s business for several years.

Gyles rents a small storefront on the Street of Flour, which I presume is where most of the bakers in KL live/work. He’s probably part of the local bakers’ guild, and he’s on the poorer end of the street so his customers tend to be laborers who want a quick hot meal. Aegon stumbled across the shop one day as a young teen when he was hangry, and he’s been coming back ever since.

I spent a ridiculous amount of time researching the history of cheese and barely used it for the fic 🥲. But I want everyone to know I thought very carefully about the type of cheese Gyles uses in his pies! It would be similar to appenzeller, which is a cheese of Swiss origin that uses cider/wine during the cheesemaking process, and it supposedly has an herby flavor (I’ve never had it but I want it). It’s a hard cheese (so it travels well) that melts well (good for pie filling), and it’s from an Alpine region (like the Vale where Gyles is from).

Ronnel barely got a glimpse of Jace during her wedding parade, but he would die for her 🥲.

We get our first glimpse of the Tyroshi, which I tried not to draw too much attention to so readers didn’t get suspicious, but I wanted it in there to set up Aegon’s investigation in Chapter 4. In hindsight, Aegon wishes he just stabbed the man that day…but he probably would’ve gotten beat up or killed in turn by the bodyguards.

BTW I am very proud of the sentence where I describe the bodyguards as looking like chickens 🐔. Sorry, just have to pat my back here.

Author’s nitpick about Maegor’s tunnels! My understanding is the secret tunnels are in the Red Keep but NOT in the Holdfast, which only has one super special secret escape route that book!Aegon uses when Rhaenyra takes KL. I have to remember not to let the characters just pop around anywhere they please using the secret tunnels. If everyone used secret tunnels all the time, they wouldn’t be very secret 🤧. I imagine the passage Aegon uses to sneak in and out of the castle is one that a lot of Targaryen royals have used, so it’s not a HUGE secret.

Daemon heard about the pregnancy pretty quickly after Jace got sick during small council. Nobody is sure where Aegon went, only that he sneaked out (pretty normal for him), and of course Daemon’s first suspicion is that Aegon is out whoring 💀. So Daemon went to the tunnels to catch Aegon on his way back and verify if Aegon was at the brothels or not. If Aegon was out whoring while his wife just found out she’s pregnant, Daemon would probably have done…something not nice 😅. But Aegon was just eating pies so it’s fine!

Aegon is no longer scared of Daemon (he was a bit scared in the first part of the Handbook), but he still doesn’t want to be alone with Daemon in a dark tunnel 👀.

Aegon has excellent zingers in the book, so I wanted give him some very sassy lines in this fic. Hence, Aegon implying Daemon is getting fat 😂. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it, Daemon!

Daemon’s line about “a spate of missing persons in the city” is a reference to the Tyroshi’s doings. The Tyroshi has kidnapped enough “good citizens” (tradesmen like Gyles, as opposed to poor prostitutes) that it’s becoming noticeable.

And yes, Daemon did deliberately make Aegon think something bad happened to Jace as revenge for Alyssa and the early wake up calls.

Originally, I was going to do brief POV scenes of all Jace’s sisters reacting to the pregnancy news, but it got very repetitive so I cut out all of them except Luce. But in the deleted bits, there’s a scene where Alicent asks Rhaena to help find Jace’s premarital nightgowns because the only nightwear Jace has right now is sexy lingerie 🤭. Then there’s a kinda sad bit where Rhaena realizes Alicent thinks she’s helping Jace by removing temptation from Aegon, because a pregnant woman should want reprieve from her husband’s attentions, because that was Alicent’s experience: being pregnant meant she didn’t have to sleep with Viserys. So Alicent struggles to realize that on the contrary, Jace might enjoy her husband’s attention.

Alicent and Rhaenyra have a comedic bit where they synchronize as they transform into Overprotective Future Grandmother mode, to showcase that they’re more similar than they admit. It’s self-explanatory why Rhaenyra is fussy, but this is also Alicent’s first grandchild. And she has always liked Jace, who is basically Alicent’s ideal good-daughter. I also think Alicent is a little jealous that Rhaenyra has Jace; Alicent definitely loves Helaena, but we see her struggling to connect with her daughter on the show, whereas Jace has always been polite, dutiful, and overall “easy” to interact with.

Because Alicent likes Jace so much, she is extra offended at the thought that Aegon might be out whoring. In a way, she still thinks of him as the profligate young prince before the Stepstones (at this point in the story, he’s only been back two months), so she assumed the worst. But it’s obvious to her that Aegon is head over heels for Jace, and she realizes he changed while he was away. So she apologizes, which doesn’t erase the hurt of her accusation but Aegon recognizes it as a big deal since she’s never apologized to him before. And she’s embarrassed about her mean reaction, but she’s too proud to do anything else to make amends.

In an earlier draft of the scene where Aegon learns about the pregnancy, I dragged out the misunderstanding where he thinks he made her cry. There was a whole miscommunication sequence that somehow ends with Aegon thinking Jace doesn’t love him anymore (he tries to give her a new ring, she cries because she knows her hands will swell and she’s worried she’ll be hideous and “I won’t be your pretty girl anymore” or something like that), but it was too melodramatic so I cut it down to a brief moment of pregnancy hormones 😅.

Using her sleeve to wipe her face is a bad habit that Aegon taught Jace because he used to do that for her when they were little and she cried 😭. (He still does it sometimes.)

Another theme in the story: when Jace is nervous, scared, or otherwise feeling negative emotions, Aegon uses humor to bring her out of her pit of despair (e.g. wedding night, during the storm at Dragonstone).

A hennin is that tall cone hat you see in medieval paintings. It was a status flex because it’s so impractical, which means only rich non-working women can wear it. Rhaenys’s hairstyle kinda reminds me of it too 😅. I imagine hennins to be very old-fashioned at this point in time, and maybe Rhaenys made Jace wear a few hennins when she was little and that’s why Jace hates them so much lol.

When I was writing the Handbook, I thought might’ve been the one to come up with the elopement idea. But she’s such a naturally cautious person that now I think she needed nudging first, and Aegon is reckless enough to go for an elopement without thinking about consequences too much.

I also have this idea that Otto has always been a big Jacegon shipper in this universe 😂. It’s the perfect match for his Plan A, B, C, X, Y, and Z. I like to imagine that before Rhaenyra took her daughters to Dragonstone, Otto was telling Aegon things like “bring Jace flowers!” and “wash your hair!” to help the romance along. I wouldn’t be surprised if at some point, Otto straight up told Aegon “you need to marry that girl no matter what” (and it’d be hilarious if this planted the seed of the elopement in Aegon’s head).

Tyroshi purple is basically the real-world Tyrian purple, which was made from sea snails and so expensive that only royalty could afford it. I thought it very fitting for Jace, who’s supposed to be the future queen. The color also reminds me of wine, but I worked so hard to make Aegon not an alcoholic that I didn’t want to mention it in the fic 😛.

When Aegon avoids telling Jace his real, dark thoughts, we get a glimpse of how he tries to protect her from bad things in life. This is a point of friction that comes up again in the fic: Aegon thinks it’s best not to tell Jace certain things, and she disagrees.

Jace doesn’t like naps because she thinks they’re a waste of time when she could be doing work 🥲.

When Aegon is in the Tower with Otto, he notices a petition about thugs extorting money from guild members. This is also a reference to the Tyroshi’s doings!

Otto is a neat freak, Aegon knows it, and Aegon takes advantage of it for fleeting moments of malicious glee.

I also have a whole list of old people habits that Otto partakes in. Here, Aegon references Otto’s daily glass of prune juice, but I won’t go into detail about that 🙈. I also imagine Otto taking brisk early morning walks around the Tower, with his elbows pumping in a very old man way, to get his daily cardio in.

I made Otto’s late wife a member of House Mullendore. They’re vassals of the Hightowers, so it’s an acceptable match for a second son. (The Mullendores sided with the Blacks during the Dance, so I’m headcanoning that Otto had a terrible falling-out with them after his wife died.) More importantly, their sigil is a bunch of orange butterflies (see: Helaena’s embroidery that Otto displays in his study). We all know Helaena loves insects, and I feel like this is an extra reason she’s Otto’s favorite: her hobby reminds him of his wife.

Otto is generally happy with how things are going in this verse. Of course he would prefer if Aegon were the heir, but right now he’s guaranteed to have his blood on the throne even if it’s a few generations down the road, and he finds Jace to be reasonable, intelligent, and dutiful. But Otto is still sneaky, because he’s Otto. When he talks about “a royal grandson,” does he mean Rhaenyra’s grandson (baby gets his claim as Jace’s son) or Viserys’s grandson (baby gets his claim as Aegon’s son)? 🧐

Otto supports Jace attending the Small Council because her fate and reputation are closely tied to Aegon’s. If she does well, that reflects well upon her husband. Otto is also aware that if/when Rhaenyra is queen, she’ll want to sack him and send him away from court. But if he maintains a good relationship with Jace, who would be the Princess of Dragonstone at that time, he’ll still be able to retain influence at court not just through Alicent, who would then be dowager queen and less powerful. And if Jace demonstrates herself to be more capable at governance than Rhaenyra (who is less diligent about attending matters of state), Otto isn’t going to say no to that.

Jace knows that Otto has clashed with Rhaenyra in the past and that he has emotionally and physically hurt Aegon, so she doesn’t like Otto as a person. But she appreciates his skill as Hand and respects him professionally. So she’s willing to work with him, but she isn’t leaping at the prospect of spending time with him. And I think that suits Otto just fine. He doesn’t want to be liked, he wants results.

Sorry I couldn’t resist making a “we forgot Daeron existed” joke 🪦.

I really like Aegon and Aemond’s brotherly relationship, and I don’t see nearly enough of it in fics so I had to make my own contribution. Even in the show canon, where Aemond covets the throne and scorns Aegon, he’s still loyal to his brother and they have that brotherly telepathy moment during the last supper. In this verse, they’re much closer but they are still mean to each other in a delightfully sibling fashion. After his relationship with Jace (and eventually Cheeseball), I think Aegon’s relationship with Aemond is his most meaningful relationship in this fic, and I’ll probably keep tugging on it throughout the series.

Aegon won’t admit it but he’s excited to tell his brothers he’s gonna be a dad 🥰.

Daeron spent the last three years in Oldtown, which is the heart of the Faith, so the sex ed he received was very…censored 😅. And since he spent so long thinking that kissing = babies, you can imagine he has a strong reaction when he accidentally kisses Joff later.

Joff has plenty of older sisters (including Baela), and Rhaenyra and Daemon aren’t very quiet at Dragonstone. Thus, Joff figures out how procreation works as a young age 💀.

Aemond does not tell Daeron what a quim is. He tells Daeron to go ask a maester.

As mentioned in Chapter 10, Aegon knows Baela was/is attracted to Jace, and this is a big source of friction between them. But Baela’s never acted on her feelings, and Aegon feels fairly secure in Jace’s affections, so he doesn’t talk about it out loud. But if Baela ever provoked him enough, he would mention it to get back at her (Aegon still has a mean streak, he’s just better at suppressing it).

Helaena’s three egg-shaped beads are a reference to the children she’ll never have in this verse. I’m of the opinion that her prophecies are very vague and mostly vibes (e.g. “he’ll have to close an eye” = she sees Aemond riding a dragon with one eye closed, like an extended wink). So she definitely doesn’t know “ah yes, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera and Maelor, who are all going to die terribly,” but she has a sense of the children she would’ve loved and lost in another life. So she’s a bit sad about not having those children in this life, but part of her is relieved she’ll never have to endure the horrible loss and suffering her children’s deaths caused.

“Sunflowers should not be watered with wine.” Helaena compares Jace to the sun (“to the sun I go”), which makes Aegon a sunflower that’s always turning to face the sun. He isn’t an alcoholic here, so he’s thriving more.

“The egg is crowned with gold, and all the creatures love it so.” The egg is Cheeseball, of course. He’s crowned with gold because he’ll be king one day, and gold is his parents’ color. The creatures = dragons, seahorses, towers, etc., all the houses with competing claims to the throne but who all agree that Cheeseball is the future king.

“Buzz, buzz. Your hive has gathered.” Jace is the queen bee, but she’s also constantly working like a bee.

“A lovely summer egg.” Cheeseball is born toward the end of summer. Also a reference to how his future reign will be peaceful and prosperous.

“A beloved egg free from sorrow.” In contrast to Helaena’s children/eggs 🥲.

Helaena’s freak out about the name Jaehaerys is 100% a reference to Blood and Cheese. Again, she doesn’t know exactly what would’ve happened in this alternate universe, but she’s getting very bad vibes from the name.

Jace despairs at the prospect of being coddled for the entire pregnancy, which is exactly what happens…

Laenor wasn’t a paragon of fatherhood but he was more present in this universe. The girls being his actual daughters does affect his feelings for them, and I think he likes having daughters. He would have to help educate and train a son, but he can just spoil and dote on daughters. (Pretty similar to Aegon’s attitude in the beginning of this fic.) So Laenor makes a lot more visits to the nursery when the kids are little, hence Aegon’s familiarity with him.

I wrote the interlude because we see almost all the other siblings’ reactions to the pregnancy, but not Luce. I just couldn’t bring myself to delete it with the other reaction POVs so I kept it in 😅. I justify it by telling myself that it’s important setup for the Baratheon drama later lol (even though at the time I wrote this chapter, I wasn’t sure Floris and Sara were going to die, so this is the author retconning).

Rhaenyra made Jace wait until her sixteenth nameday, so she’s applying that rule to all her daughters: no marriage until you’re sixteen. That’s why Luce has to wait. And if the Baratheon stuff didn’t happen later, it would 100% have been a smart move. Luce is very impulsive, and she and Aemond were clashing for so long, it’s wiser to wait and make sure they’re in this for the long haul and not just acting on hormones.

Aemond had visited Driftmark four times in the past month, which means he’s there every week for several days 😂.

I like to think Daemon told Caraxes to tell Arrax to make sure Luce and Aemond don’t have too much fun 🤭. And for some reason, I imagine Arrax looking a lot like a light fury from How to Train Your Dragon. Big eyes and shiny scales.

Earlier in the chapter, we get a monologue about how Aegon would starve to keep Jace fed. Here, Aemond is literally stealing Luce’s lunch 🤣🤣🤣.

Jace knows her sister super well! That’s why she tells Luce to sit down before she continues the letter: she knows Luce is going to have a strong reaction.

Jace loves all her sisters but I think she’s closest to Luce. They’re less than two years apart in age, and Joff was born four years after Luce, so a lot of Jace’s earliest memories are just the two of them as sisters. Just like how Aemond is one of Aegon’s most important relationships, Luce is one of Jace’s most important relationships.

Chapter 3 commentary here

[tehriel]

Alright, a few ideas for you. Any of these can be turned into filth, and I will be delighted. I imagine the reader as a Ghoul and nonbinary/afab, but it doesn't matter:

- Sodo and a shy reader that has a crush on him. He has noticed them watching him, but they'll never be the one to make the first move.

- Mountain and a ghoul reader who have been friends for a while. The reader has developed feelings for Mountain but is afraid to admit them and risk losing him, but Mountain can tell something is up.

- Omega has noticed that the reader has been around him more often and coming to him with work related questions. He begins to realize they have a crush on him, and they’re just trying to spend more time with him but are too nervous to just ask to hang out.

I got you friend~ Thank you for your prompts

I find shy readers really close to home to write about haha, I might try it one day it just would be so close to how I act in real life, and I just wanna escapppeee kekek

I took the Mountain prompt, fluffed around with it, gave him some insecurities. He is just a sweetie pie. I added a self-insert, let me know if you spot them, weheheh

The very mature rating can be found under the line and the explicit on AO3. Over 18 please my friends~

If anyone else wants to send me prompts, I prefer scenarios to kinks~ I am a bit on the demi/ace spectrum. Romance/feelings>smut and i like the option of not writing smut if I am not feeling it :3

I have a fun Swiss one coming up next~

Thank you for reading!

“Eyy, _____.”

“How’s it hanging, Swiss?” You walked to your usual meeting spot with Mountain, your usual surveillance partner in tow. The spot was where the ministry grounds met the edge of the surrounding pine forest. The pines were made for privacy but also hid unwelcome visitors from view, which meant there always had to be at least one pair of ghouls watching the treeline. The sun was beginning to down so you were trading shifts with Swiss and Dewdrop.

Swiss had to think momentarily and cocked his head of long dreads. “To the left, I think,” he replied, squinting.

“Huh, unusual for you,” you shrugged. You could feel Moutain beside you; you had had a new awareness for him of late. He was a big creature of few words hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a thick fringe of hair. 

“Eh, switching it up a little bit,” Swiss gave a trademark grin.

“How about you, Dew?” You prompted.

“I’m afraid you’re just going to have to check for yourself, _____,” he had a mean smile, which wasn’t something he could help; his brows were always in a kind of downcast scowl regardless of mood.

“Is that a challenge?” You piqued a brow, “you know that generally doesn’t work out well for you, dickweed.”

Mountain stood a little taller beside you.

He may not speak much, but you could tell when chaos mode was about to engage. He usually followed you into any bullshit your mouth got you into.

“Your big fuzzy protector has been clipped, _____,” Dew smirked. 

“I don’t need help pantsing you, short shit,” you chuckled.

“Bring it on, Peanut,” Dew leered; a ghoul after your own heart, almost always looking for violence.

“Speaking of clipping,” Swiss interrupted what was going to be a ghoulish brawl followed by many ripped pants. “Mountain, it’s your first day back, right?”

“Yeah,” he looked down at the cast on his arm. He was bound up with a sling and still had a few plasters on his face. Ghouls healed fast—just not that fast.

Your gaze fell, playfulness leaching from you. You were trying not to acknowledge it like it could be any other day. Mountain’s arm had been broken in four places during your last watch together.

“You good to do this? You need a third?” Sodo prompted. He was genuine, and you hated when he was genuine because that usually meant something was wrong.

You would usually pass him off in an instant, but in that moment, you deemed it not your call to make.

You felt Mountain’s awareness on you; you could feel it more intensely these days—it was nothing he was doing on purpose. It was all you. 

“Nah, I only need one hand,” his voice was softer than his appearance might suggest and was tipped with an accent he’d picked up with some time in Australia.

“You see anything to look out for?” You asked as if it was completely fine, and you had this, and you had all the confidence in the world for returning to the job.

“Uh… there was a Nymph?” Swiss said after a while of thinking, “But it will probably try to seduce you more than anything.”

“Huh, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a Nymph,” you frowned.

“I wouldn’t go near it,” Dew wrinkled his nose, “that weird pollen shit.”

You rolled your eyes; the real reason why Dew wouldn’t go near it was because it wasn’t on any kind of hitlist. If murder wasn’t on the table, neither was Dew. “Right, if that’s it, you can skedaddle, lads,” you thumbed over your shoulder back towards the cathedral.

“Get some rest,” Mountain agreed.

Dew clicked his tongue, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure if you stay any longer, you will be without pants,” you promised.

“Peanut…” Dew warned, and Swiss threw an arm around him to tug him away.

“Later, _____,” Swiss grinned.

“See you at breakfast,” you handed out two stealthy ass-smacks as they passed.

“Ooo, I’m gonna…” Dew grumbled as Swiss laughed, dragging him away.

You chuckled, and it was quiet again without them. Just you and Mountain, the way it always was—the way it should be. Your big, tall lampshade of a companion. Your brother from another demonic nightmare. Your good time boy. Silence had never been awkward between you two, so who should it be then? He was usually quiet anyway, happy to listen as you run your mouth. Nothing should be different. Nothing would be different.

You had a track you usually followed through the treeline, under and over logs, scouting up certain trees. Finding the peaks of the valley and surveying was commonplace, but what wasn’t typical was that you didn’t know what to do with your hands as you walked. Pockets(?) How much hands swaying as you walked was too much hand swaying? Arms crossed just looked defensive. 

“______?”

“What’s up, Mounty?” You had chosen to rest your arms behind your head like some anime character. Looked cool in anime—less cool in real life.

“Something’s wrong.”

You stopped, you listened. You peeled your eyes to the underbrush. You couldn’t sense anything, but Mountain had pointier ears than yours; you’d always wondered if he heard more. “What’s up? Is it the nymph?” Your voice was barely a breath in volume.

“With you, _____,” he smiled softly at your readiness.

You sagged. “Ya scared me; what do you mean?” You asked and continued on your usual winding path. It was a bright moon, your pupils dilated, and you saw much of the forest as you would during the day, just bluer.

“You’re acting strange.”

“Feels like that’s on brand for me,” you shrugged.

“You’ve usually tried to climb me three times by now.”

“Not my fault, you’re very high ground,” you muttered. “Fine, you’re injured, Mounty… so it’s…”

“You think I can’t handle you while I’m like this?” He chuckled.

You swallowed. It was as innocent as anything Mountain usually said to you. He was right, of course; the guard duty was long and tedious, and you liked to try and wrestle him most days. He could throw you over his shoulder and put you in the bin easily enough, but he always indulged you anyway. He was your best friend. Your partner in crime. You needed him to be that. “Yeah, you’re delicate goods right now,” you grinned at him to shrug it off. Well, ‘at him’ was a general term—you’d been having trouble looking at him of late.

“Delicate goods?” You heard the frown in his voice. “Can’t have saying things like that.” He said and bobbed down.

It was so sudden you took some staggered steps forward and had to tune around to figure out what he was up to. “Huh?”

“Hop aboard, ______.”

“Oh…” it shouldn’t be weird; it wasn’t weird; riding Mountain’s shoulders was commonplace. He was slow-moving, so anyone quick enough could usually climb up and hop aboard. He never seemed to mind. “Yeah… yeah…” You eased yourself into the idea; yeah, that made sense—It was Mountain; he was literally named for climbing.

You swung a leg over him, and he stood quickly. 

“You good up there, Peanut?”

Peanut was something stupid some of the other ghouls tended to call you; it was odd to hear it from him. Maybe it was an accident? “Hell, yeah, the best seat in the house—Ghoul Rangers battle morph~” you tried to screw around with your usual shenanigans, but your ears felt hot. “Forest better prepare its anus; we’re in our final form!”

He chuckled and petted one of your thighs before continuing on your usual path.

Fucking hell, what was happening? He always did that, but… why was it different? You didn’t want it to be different.

“You know I…” Mountain murmured but lost the words.

Where did you put your hands? It was usually his hair or horns… but that felt… too much. Fuck, just do it like you used to. You reached into his soft, scruffy locks, his scalp warm against your fingertips. Your gut was jelly. “What’s up, big guy?” Somehow, your voice didn’t waver.

“I know I took this hit—but I can still protect you,” he squeezed your thigh.

Damn it. What was he doing to you? “Mounty…”

“You’ve seemed distant recently, ______.”

At least from this position, you didn’t have to look him in the eye. Unless he somehow pulled an exorcist on you. That’d be weird. “Have I? I think I’m just aware I’m a bit, uh, rough… sometimes—“

“I’m still strong enough to be at your side.” He had added a little gravel to give voice.

You tried to hide the shiver in your spine by stretching. Was he hurting that you had withdrawn ever since the accident with the nephilim? He was still your best friend. “It’s… It’s not that big guy.”

“What is it?”

“I’m your partner, so I shouldn’t have let you get hurt like that. You like protecting me—but it’s my job to watch your back too.” You ran your fingers against him as a self-indulgence. “And seeing you hurt like that…” made you realise a few things about how important he was to you. “I failed you, Mounty.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “no way, Peanut—it just happens sometimes. And I saw you turn on the bugger, extremely fucking sexy; I’ve never seen you go to town like that.”

Nothing new to call each other sexy. Banter was what you both thrived off. Never before had you been so scarlet. You could only hope the blood rush didn’t reach your legs in his purview. You had to segue. “What’s up with the Peanut?”

“Oh, I just thought Dew called you that, so it was just… and you guys seem close, so…” you felt him shrug.

“Dickwad only calls me that because he said if I ever grew a dick, it would look like a peanut—which feels very pot calling the kettle… Dude has a fucking acorn.”

You felt his shoulder quake with mirth. “Do the rest of the pack know that?”

“Sometimes things just stick,” you grimaced.

“Either way… You never have to worry about being too rough with me, ______.” He said softly, “I—I’ve missed you,” his head rested to the side for a moment, and you felt his cheek against your thigh.

So then you imagined his lips on your thigh, just a chaste moment. Just… you swallowed. Sparks rippled over your skin. You had to stow it, and you had to do it quickly.

You heard him sniff. “______?” Was his voice deeper, or were you imagining it?

“Hm?”

“There’s a nymph in this forest…” he muttered. His hand slid over your leg, and you felt the sweat of his palm through your uniform pants.

“Oh…” and what ‘oh’ meant was there was a little forest trickster running around with weird, sexy pollen powers. Hopefully, what you were feeling could be blamed solely on that. “You good?”

“Yeah.. yeah… she’ll be right.”

You were so close you could usually tell what he meant regardless of what his mouth said. He was turned on then. The idea ignited something you wanted to stay unlit. “Yeah, we’re big ghouls, plus we’re best friends, so we wouldn’t…”

“We wouldn’t…?”

“Yeah, we’re like a hundred years of plutonic companionship impervious to nymphy bullshit, right?”

“Y-yeah, exactly.”

“Hey, tree person, fuck off!!” You called. “Earth is kinda your domain, right? How do we scare the jerk away?”

He didn’t immediately answer.

“Mounty?”

“Oh, they’re just looking for fun.”

“See we just… be unexciting?” But what could be more salacious to a nymph than a person suddenly wanting their own best friend? Suddenly realising you loved them and wanted them to yourself—that you were suddenly jealous of anyone he looked at? That his body, which you knew as well as your own, called to you? You’d dreamt of him, too. 

He hummed softly, and you felt the vibrations of it between your legs. 

“Right, you gotta let me down—“

“______?” He whispered your name and paused.

“We should maybe split up,” you muttered.

“Ah.. right, good… yep..” he bobbed back down.

You stepped from his shoulder and couldn’t really look at him. You ran a sweaty hand through your hair. “I’ll just go the opposite direction and find you on the road again, hum?”

“That… sounds right.” He wasn’t looking at you, either.

“Uh, yell if you need me, Mounty.” 

“Yeah..”

“Yep.”

You didn’t stall; you walked away quickly. You had a very old friendship to preserve, which meant finding yourself a nymph.

***

You didn’t stay on the path.

You were out for blood. Your stomach only churned harder the deeper you got into the underbrush. The want for your best friend became unbridled lust, and you fought for the centre of the pollen cloud. He meant more to you than some little shit’s entertainment.

“Where are you, you little shit?” You glowered. Mountain was nature and strength. A gentle giant. You were a hot head; you were speed, tracking and assassination. You were going to peel the flesh from its little bones… You could smell it. It was something sweeter than grass and a little bit citrusy. Like lemonade during a summer’s picnic. The closer you got, the more flushed you got.

There came a break in the trees. Moonlight shimmered in a pool of water, and with it, the green glimmer of a nymph. You would wring its little pixie neck, you would... 

“Oh, hello, friend~!” They sat on a rock in the middle of the lake.

Oh no. No. They were cute. Green skin, big broccoli hair, twinkly doe eyes and a sweet smile. The nymph had a book in their hands and was writing in it with a teeny quill while they hitched up their thick coke-bottle glasses.

“F-friend?” You choked and felt you had to hide your claws.

“Uh, huh,” they beamed and hid their weeny little diary behind their back. Just what had they been writing in there? “How did it go?! Did you confess your love to one another?” They stood up, fixed their little petal dress, and beamed at you. They were… so smol.

“N-no… hey, I don’t want… we don’t want. We both… and it’s not like that…”

They frowned, “Nu-uh,” you pouted childishly. “I can smell the butterflies in your stomach, the tingles in your nose all the way to your toes~~~”

“Well, I don’t want it.”

“Don’t… don’t want it?” Their eyes somehow got even bigger.

“Just.. I don’t want…” you sighed. “Relationships come and go, but Mountain is my forever partner.”

“You love him~” they sparkled, ignoring the whole ‘I don’t want’ statement.

“I do. More than wanting sort of… all this…” You gestured to all the invisible pollen in the air.

They actually started crying.

“Oh… oh…. That’s… there are plenty of ghouls to screw around with, you know… I’m good not, uh, doing this… There is one called Dew; he sometimes goes by Sodomiser. It would be very funny to screw around with him,” you nodded fervently.

“Friend….” They sniffled on their rock in the middle of the pond.

“Please—let me make my own choices,” you sagged.

Their lip trembled.

“Please.”

They nodded slowly, and you felt some of the grip lessen over your stomach.

“Thank you,” you sighed. 

“I hope you reconsider,” she sniffed. 

“It’s… not likely,” you grimaced, and your stomach dropped a little for the first time at the idea of it. Companions for life, but… You would both eventually find other ghouls, wouldn’t you? What then? And you shouldn’t act just at the possibility of him having someone else. He saw you like a sibling—you approaching him like that out of the blue would be uncomfortable for him, and then you really would ruin everything. You massaged your head. 

“______…”

You heard Mountain call your name, and your head whipped. “I have to go…” You began walking backwards.

“I’ll see you later, friend~” they sparkled.

“______!”

You began stealthing. What could be out here that you didn’t smell? Was he okay? You remembered the nephilim standing over him; he’d been thrown back into the treeline, felling at least three trees before his body had come to a stop. His head had cracked back. You’d thought for a moment he was dead. Mountain. Your great Mountain. You’d seen red. That couldn’t happen again. 

You moved through the branches of the fir forest with a light step and bloodlust humming in your veins. Anyone who dared touch Moutnain would… He wasn’t on the track, and he was alone.

“….______….” His voice was low and broken. He faced a tree trunk, forehead pressed to the bark. A short, frustrated sound came from him like he hated something. He was in loathing.

Was he okay? Was there an enemy you couldn’t see? You perched on the bough and waited to pounce.

“I… hmm…” Mountain’s gentle voice came out strained. He whimpered, pained.

You were about to rush to him.

“Fuck, _____, just like that… I… shouldn’t… I want you. D-damn it…” he groaned low, hunching further to drag his horns against the trunk like a rutting bull elk.

Oh. You took in the slack of the ghoul’s uniform pants around his waist. The slight thrust of his hips. You recognised the wet sounds. You had thought the nymph’s thrall was over… it was over, wasn’t it? You went beet red. You shouldn’t see this, you should leave. You turned around and stepped for the next branch to give him privacy.

“______… don’t look at Dew like that…” There then came a low, tortured groan. Seemed he was in pain. Your best friend was hurting. “My… my… love… you’re so… I hate myself for…”

Your heart was cleaved clean in two.

Mountain froze as he felt the pressure of your forehead against the middle of his back. “______?… shit… Sorry, the nymph…”

You rubbed your face against him. “The nymph isn’t controlling us any more.” 

“I.. I’m sorry… I…”

When had he started hurting like this? You curled your tail to his leg and snuggled his body to you. “Are you okay, Mounty?”

He sagged into you. “No.”

“Me neither,” you murmured. “…what do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I,” you held him tighter like he would somehow disappear. “I think I love you Mountain,” You wanted to hide in him; your voice trembled.

“I love you too, ______.”

You stayed hidden behind him as if nothing would change if you didn’t move. You felt his cast rub at your arms around his middle. You heard the clumsy one-handed zip of his pants being done up.

“Broke the wrong hand, huh?” You chuckled into his back.

“Yeah.” His shoulders relaxed, and he laughed softly. 

You’d made a joke, which somehow meant you’d both be okay. “Maybe I’ll give you a hand later, huh?” You grinned.

“_______,” he moaned, and you felt the tuft of his tail run against your leg. “Uh… sorry…” he tugged his tail to him. He looked back at you, worry knitting his brows, and his glasses still fogged.

You let him go so that he could turn around properly. “Hey, big guy.”

“Hey,” His green eyes washed down your face. “I… want to kiss you,” he averted his gaze, “Is that something we do now or should we not…? I can’t lose you, so I don’t know…”

“I can’t lose you either. I also want to kiss you, though—maybe it will be weird, and we would hate it, and then we can just return to how it was?” You guessed.

“Yeah.. that..” he swallowed and hesitantly leaned down for you to reach for him, leaving you with the decision to make.

You tentatively reached for his neck. Your nose brushed his like an electric current ran you through. You kissed your best friend’s mouth—and he kissed you back with hunger, groaning into your mouth. He teased your tongue with his own. You only parted when you were both breathless.

“I…” your bridge pressed his, “I didn’t hate it…”

He hummed, his eyes closed, and brows contorted in pain. “More..” he growled softly to your lips before he took them for himself. His unbound arm wrapped your waist. Were his hands always so large?