#I'll end up reblogging this a lot so uh... yeah!

[fallroute]

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

I have to pay a couple of bills (Phone & Internet) and start on next month’s bills. I want to keep on top of things, so I figured I would try my hand at opening commissions on Tumblr!

If you’re interested, please send me an ask here or IM me. All payments will be Paypal Only, and will differentiate with what I’m having to do (extra details, backgrounds, ect).

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

🌾

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Gloria Swanson (Don't Change Your Husband, Queen Kelly, Sadie Thompson, Sunset Boulevard)—the absolute BALLS this woman had! an icon of the 1920s, her career had simmered down, decent living in radio, deciding you know what? you know what i'll do? I'll star as the haggard old aging decrepit horror icon in Sunset Boulevard, that's what I'll do. Nobody else in Hollywood would take the part (every other actress didn't want to be framed as a has-been)—gloria said, fuck that, I'll eat this role alive and serve cunt the whole time. she was still so gorgeous when they made Sunset Boulevard they had to intentionally make her up/costume her to make her look older than she was. mad respect for the screen legend who says yeah, i am a screen legend, i was always that bitch and here I am again to prove it

Mary Nolan (West of Zanzibar, Desert Nights)—mary nolan had star quality in spades but her career was sadly plagued by tragedy and scandal (though really a lot of what was characterized as "scandal" by the press was more like "men being physically abusive"). she reinvented her career multiple times, first becoming very popular as a ziegfeld girl in the early 1920s under the stage name imogene "bubbles" wilson (said a columnist of the time, "only two people in America would bring every reporter in New York to the docks to see them off. one is the President. the other is Imogene "Bubbles" Wilson.") but after some shit involving a shitty dude got her fired from the follies for negative media attention she went to europe and made films in germany under the name imogene robertson for a few years. in 1927 she accepted the offer of a contract from united artists and returned to the u.s., taking on the stage name mary nolan. she was received favorably in films like west of zanzibar as lon chaney's daughter, and desert nights opposite john gilbert, but she began having difficulty finding work in the early 30s, having at that point acquired a morphine addiction, and she made her final film appearance in 1933, intermittently working in vaudeville and nightclubs. uh well this propaganda ended up super sad but here's a short clip of her in action in a 1930 movie

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman. (remember that our poll era starts in 1910, so please don't use propaganda from before that date.)

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Gloria Swanson:

She was THE idea of a 1920s sex comedy star, and was a hot (and totally unhinged) older woman in Sunset Boulevard. Hot as a young woman and as an older woman? Yes plz

I feel like she would slay in alternative fashion

her performance as Norma Desmond in sunset boulevard makes me insane. I love her

Mary Nolan:

Shockingly modern style of acting! She could pop up today and be a starlette all over again

[plussizefantasia]

Taste-Testing

Flufftober Day 10: Bakery AU pt2

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 0.9k

AN: This is a continuation of Day 1: Sweet Things. This one is a lot more dialog-heavy than the others and just a touch more spicy too. I think I'm obsessed with Bucky and Sweets so I'll for sure be continuing their story after flufftober ends. Anyway, please reblog if you liked it it means a lot!

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Waiting until you got home after work to call Bucky was like torture. The note he left on the napkin after his departure was carefully folded up and placed into the pocket of your apron. When the traffic of customers lulled during the day, you’d pull it out and re-read it over again.

You’ve never really had a nickname before, but you liked Sweets. Maybe it was because it was the one that he gave you. 

When you finally were able to close down for the day, you rushed through locking up the shop and did the closest thing the running as you could without looking psycho all the way to your apartment. 

The phone hadn’t even rung twice before Bucky answered, “Hello?” 

‘Um. Bucky? You left your number on the napkin today, I assumed that meant you were okay with me calling.”

He chuckled, “More than okay, sweets. I’ve been waiting for your call”

You were surprised “Really?”

“Yeah, how many gorgeous women do you think I give me number every day?”

“Oh, Uh. I didn’t think you went around throwing your number at girls I just-”

“Breathe Sweets,” he gently reminded you over the phone and your body automatically responded, drawing in a deep breath and stopping your potential rambling short. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

“I was uh, gonna start to test out some new recipes for the holidays. Got to make sure they work right before the weather switches from fall to winter.”

“Need a taste tester?” He asked it so nonchalantly you’d think that the two of you hung out all the time. Not that this was one of the first few conversations you’d ever had that didn’t revolve around his work or yours. Before you could overthink though, you were sending him your address and he told you he’d pick up dinner and be there in twenty minutes.

You didn’t really know what to do with yourself so you busied your hands with prepping what you would need to make the new pastries you were gonna try and attempt to clean up the main area that contained your couches and coffee table. 

The knocks on your door were short and you nearly tripped over yourself rushing to the door to open it. 

Bucky was endeared to the breathless way that you greeted him and the way your hair was sticking out in every which way. It was obvious that you’d been doing something but the way your hair was mussed made him think less than innocent thoughts. 

He refused to follow through on them though, normally he wouldn’t have a problem with taking an attractive woman like you to bed right away but he really liked you, and wanted to see where this could go. He couldn’t do that if he let himself give into his more… animalistic… urges. 

“I brought Chinese hope that’s okay.”

“It’s great thanks, though you really didn’t need to get me dinner”

“I know I didn’t sweets but my mother always said that I needed to eat my dinner before I could have a treat.” You don’t think he realizes just how charming he is. His smooth tone and sultry smirk made you weak in the knees and you needed to remind yourself that he was here to taste test your recipes, not you.

“So, what are you making that needs my tasting expertise?” He set the food on your small apartment counter and began unpacking everything he had. It was enough food for a family of five. 

He suddenly got a little sheepish, “I didn’t know what you’d want.” 

“I’m sure I’ll like something here. Thanks again.”

After picking your meal for the evening you launched into an explanation of the treats you’d be attempting that night.

“I’m gonna try to make the cranberry tarts, peppermint bark brownies, and black forest bread twists tonight what do you think?”

“I think that a relationship with you is dangerous for my figure.” You couldn’t help but focus on the fact that he had said relationship, not friendship, a relationship.

“I thought you liked sweet things.” You leaned on the counter facing him and rested your head in your hand perched upon the little amount of empty counter space you had. 

He grinned and matched your energy, “I love sweet things, especially when they come in pretty packages.” his eyes raked up and down your body and you could feel the butterflies in your gut pick up their pace.

You tried your best to recover from the minor brain aneurysm he had just given you but you could tell that he had seen how his words affected you. And if the ever-growing smirk on his face was anything to go by, he enjoyed your reaction.

The night continued in the same way, Bucky shamelessly flirting with you and you doing your best to match him but getting too flustered to really pull it off. Bucky had declared the brownies his favorite but said that he’d probably need to start getting a bigger size of pants if he was going to keep being your taste tester. 

“You can be my official taste tester anytime you want, Bucky” you had told him at your door. He was on his way out after you declared that if you wanted to get any sleep tonight he’d need to leave.

“I’d love to taste whatever you give me, Sweets. Anytime”. All you could do was nod and smile at him as he left. He still heard the strangled groan you let out when the door closed though.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

¦¦ Mend ¦¦

Frank Castle & Matt Murdock & Female Reader. M.

This is just a little blurb where you have a kid with Frank and Matt. I wanted to have a little angsty prod at Frank having family again, but then wrap him up in some fluff <3. Please let me know (and reblog!) If you like it.

“Look!” Taylor exclaims, holding a trio of crudely, but very cutely, molded clay figures that she had been working on most of the morning aloft. “I made it!”

“Oh wow, those are so good!” You respond as Matt turns away from his laptop and files to find out what his daughter has created this time.

“Come and see with your hands daddy, it's all of us.” Taylor explains, and Matt kneels down on the playmat to check out her latest artwork, flashing you a smile as he feels each one.

“...and is this one me?” he asks curiously, and you almost laugh out loud at Taylor's utter indignation at the very suggestion.

“No! That's my other daddy, silly! This is you!” She guides Matt's hands to another figure.

“Oh yes of course, I'm such a silly. They are so good darling!”

“I wanna show Daddy Frank.”

You're still smiling at her, although Matt can sense it's become strained. “I know you do sweetie, but he's still away working just now, you can show him when he gets back home, okay?”

Taylor pouts massively. Sometimes you think that's when you see Frank in her the most. 

When the three of you had agreed you wanted a family together, you had let fate decide who would be the father. Matt and Frank had taken you against pretty much every horizontal and vertical surface there was once you had stopped your birth control almost five years ago. And when you found out you were pregnant you weren't interested in a paternity test to confirm anything. As Taylor grew you swore she would look most like Matt or Frank at any time, it was so hard to tell and didn't matter in the end to any of you anyway.

“Make him go on the video mummy, then I can show him!” She demands.

Matt takes her hand as he gets up. “That's a good idea poppet. Why don't we have a little game of hide and seek while your mom checks if he's not too busy, hm?”

You're relieved when that seems to placate her and will allow you some time to actually talk to Frank. You whisper a thank you that only he would hear and take your phone into the bedroom closing the door. It felt as if things were calming down with Matt's after work activities, Frank seemed to be taking work away from home more frequently and for longer periods these days. 

“You alright? What's wrong?” He picks up, accepting the voice call only.

You can't help the scoffing sound you make. “We’re fine. You're not home, that's what's wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Things just got a little complicated.”

“What do you mean? When will you be back? We all miss you, Taylor keeps asking where you are, she wanted to show you something on the video call. I can only keep putting her off for so long, Frank. She's bloody smart y'know.”

Frank sighs. “just don't think she should see me right now, don't wanna scare her.”

“Why what's happened? Are you okay?” 

You hear him clear his throat. “Yeah, uh… face is a little messed up is all.”

You frown. “Let me see.” 

“Baby-”

“Frank, I'm not asking, I'm telling you, let me see.”

As he reluctantly switches on the video mode and you're met with the picture of his handsome face albeit marred by black eyes, bruises, and bloody cuts.

You remember the conversation the three of you had about what you were going to tell Taylor her dad's jobs were when she was old enough to start asking. In the end Daddy Matt was a ‘lawler that helps people and sometimes walks into things cos he can't see’, and Frank was ‘a boxer and he protects all of us!’. 

“Jesus.” You respond. “Well, she won't be scared by how you look, I'm almost 100 percent sure she's seen you and Matt a lot worse off. I'll go get her-”

Frank tries to say no but you're already calling out your daughter's name to tell her that daddy is there and he can hear her excited noises over the line.

You sit on the bed pulling her up onto your lap with her recent creations in her hands, holding the phone up so she can see, grinning as she squeals with delight upon seeing Frank. 

“Hey my little pumpkin.”

“Hi daddy! You've been fighting again!? Your face is all broken.” 

Frank chuckles. “Yeah sweetpea, had to show some bad guys some manners.”

You roll your eyes and Taylor cocks her head to the side as she thinks.

“I will put a bandaid on you when you come home!"

“Sure thing pumpkin, you can fix me right up."

"When, daddy?” She presses, causing Frank to stumble on his answer.

"I, uh, I don't know sweetheart, but hey, tell me what's that you got there?” 

She holds up each figure for Frank to see, “...and this is you daddy,” she says at the last one. Her face falls suddenly and she shouts out in frustration, throwing the little model onto the hardwood floor where it breaks. 

“Taylor, no!” You tell her off firmly but she starts to wail, wriggling out of your arms and running into the next room crying.

“Daddy's broken, daddy's broken!”

You see Matt confusedly scooping her up and trying to calm her down before you look back to your phone and Frank.

“’she okay?” Frank asks worriedly as you flump back down on the bed with a deep sigh.

“She's been acting up a lot since you've been away. She wakes up in the middle of the night crying for you, you know.”

“Shit.” Frank pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing his closed, scrunched up eyes hard with his knuckles. “Uh, listen I gotta go…”

“Frank what's going on with you? You haven’t said when you’re coming back?”

“M’sorry. Look, I'll seeya soon, okay?”

“What? Frank, wait!”

*click*

+

Frank can feel the tears start burning at his eyes as he clicks the red button and throws the phone on the bedside table, hunching over with his head in his hands as he sits on the edge of the cheap motel room bed. He thought he could do this, thought he was ready, could have a family again after all this time. Things had been great at first, when you revealed to him and Matt that you were pregnant he was so happy, ecstatic, so excited at the prospect of bringing up a kid again, showing them the world, sharing the love he had with them. But in the very back dark recesses of his mind there was something that still scratched away at the perfect picture, a constant worry that he had managed to keep well at bay at first, but as his little girl grew older he was losing the battle in fighting it back.

He knew that what he was doing, how he was dealing with it, wasn't right. It wasn't fair to any of you and he resented himself for it, and yet he couldn't help himself. He was terrified.

He'd come back, yeah. He just needed a few more days to get his head straight, knock a couple more shitheads out. Frank just needed to be busy for a while and then maybe he could deal with everything else... later. 

+

You're dumbfounded with disbelief that Frank had just hung up on you and left things like that, and later at night once you've settled Taylor down to sleep and you're in bed with Matt, you share what happened with him. You were worried about Frank, but at the same time you were also so unbelievably angry and hurt that he didn't seem to be bothered about seeing and spending time with his daughter.

Matt pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, I'll find him, bring him home. Don't worry sweetie, it's probably nothing.” He assures you before he’s getting out of bed and going for his suit, although sometimes he could never be sure with Frank.

“I'll be back as soon as I can, alright?”

"Okay." You sigh and watch him go, completely unable to allow yourself to rest until your mind has been put at ease. You look in on Taylor who's thankfully fast asleep, picking up her favourite teddy that had fallen onto the floor and tucking it in next to her.

+

Matt is surprised to find him not all that too far from home. Although Frank's stealth was better these days than it had been, it had been fairly easy to track him from the smell of fresh blood from beaten up low lifes on the nearby streets and a little focused questioning. He can hear the hammer click back on his gun as he approaches the motel room.

“It's me.” Matt announces calmly. He could do without spooking Frank unnecessarily.

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Frank snaps as he opens the door, scanning the lot behind Matt out of habit.

“Trying to find out what the hell is up with you.” He answers, bullying his way inside.

“Just go on back home, I've got work to finish, I told her that.” He's pacing like a trapped animal. Matt can hear his accelerated heart rate. 

“No. I know it’s not work, it's something else. C'mon Frank, you know you can talk to us, talk to me. What's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Matt tilts his head as Frank spits out a pained laugh. “Fuckin’... hah, yeah, trouble…”

Matt moves closer to him, he wants so much to hold him, comfort him, but Frank's on such an edge tonight and he's not sure he can. He hates the way that feels.

“You wanna talk here, or-” Matt tastes the salt in the air then, can hear the thick stop in Frank's throat as he swallows the urge to sob. “Frank, we're worried about you.” Matt keeps his voice low and calm, his hand finally landing softly on his lover's bicep. “Please.”

Frank chokes then, he’s shaking his head back and forth, denying who knows what and Matt just wants to fix whatever’s got him this way.

“Hey it's alright, come on and sit down. That's it.” Matt says as he guides him to a seat on the bed, settling beside him just giving him some space.

“Jesus, I- ''Frank starts, turning away, wishing he could hide from Matt's radar sense. “It's just been… fuck, it was all goin' great, y’know, with the kid and everything-”

Matt tilts his head to the side. “So this is about home? About Taylor?” he probes gently.

Frank screws his eyes shut, rubbing his hand over his face. “Mm. An’ now our baby girl, she ain't such a baby anymore… she's- I don't know Red, I'm scared.”

“What is it you're afraid of, Frank?” Matt asks, although he thinks he has an inkling.

“That somethin's gonna happen to her, t-that- that it'll be my fault. That I'll make a stupid mistake and bring somethin' home that'll hurt her, that I'll lose her… like I lost my Lisa-” 

Frank breaks down, his huge frame shuddering as the tears he's been holding back start to stream down his face.

Matt almost doesn't know what to say. He knows what it's like to lose someone but he can barely comprehend how it must have felt to lose your entire family, your entire world in a few brutal moments, right in front of you.

“Staying away isn't going to protect her Frank, and she's in the safest place she can be. 

“I know, I know…it’s just-”

Matt sighs. “Frank, I understand that you're worried but she needs you with her, and so do we.” He gently wipes the tears from Frank's cheeks, his soft touch giving a little comfort to him. “I know we can’t prepare for every risk, but we're always going to be stronger together.”

Frank gives the barest of nods, trying to pull the frayed threads of himself back together for the sake of his family. He knows Matt’s right. 

+

“Daddy! Daddy” His little angel exclaims as she sees him come in the front door after Matt. She’s all wide eyes and smiles and it fills up his heart again.

“Sweetpea! What're you doin' up?”

When you see the way Frank takes Taylor up in his arms, holding her so close, kissing her cheek and brushing his fingers over her dark hair, it’s not difficult to see what’s been going on with him. You join him and Matt in a giant hug in the hall.

“I’m so glad you’re home.” you whisper, kissing him lightly, avoiding the bruises as best you can. 

Frank hums low, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pecking you on the lips. “Yeah, was just… a lil bit broken after all.” he says. Taylor wriggles to be let down, pulling at Frank’s big paw of a hand urging him to come over to the table. 

“You’re not broken any more Daddy Frank, we fixed you!” She tells him proudly, showing him the little clay figure that you had managed to glue back together again.

You and Matt share a smile and Frank can’t help but grin, blinking away a couple of stray tears. “Yeah you did pea, you sure did.”

[indouloureux]

Hello!

I love your writing. I was wondering if you write where the reader is in the Hellfire Club and she’s a ballerina. And she asks the guys to move the campaign to a different day. And very says no but Eddie. Because he wants to see her In ballerina outfit. So everyone goes and sees her.

aaaa i love u thank you for requesting <3

"shit,"

you fuck up your pirouette. not because you twisted your ankle but because the clubroom beside yours was awfully louder than it should be, keeping you out of tune from the low music your boombox plays; a holler overwhelming the statical clavier.

you sigh, tugging on your skirt before you're hastily turning the box off and leaving the empty space you borrowed. you can still hear the muffled shouting and exclaimed profanities from the other side, as well as some deep narrations of different voices. fixing the straps of your camisole, you take up the courage to knock on the door.

the yelling hinders. followed by a scrape of a chair, heavy footsteps and a little shut the fuck up mike and sit down. you push the strand of hair from your face, tucking it underneath the hair that's pushed up from a pin, before you're greeted by a gush of wind.

eddie munson stands tall and annoyed from the disturbance, but his face softens at the sight of you, the hard grip on the doorknob loosening. you swallow, a tad bit intimidated by his looks — clean hellfire shirt, tight ripped jeans, rings you know he's always worn since freshman year.

"oh, hey," he smiles a little. "didn't know you were still here. thought everyone left."

"i have practice," you scratch the back of your neck.

eddie gestures to your outfit. "ballet, right? i thought you guys wore that stockings and pink tutu skirts?"

you nod, pulling on the hem of your skirt once more. eddie straightens his posture, ashamed that you've kept the elegance of your poise and his back was hunched. you glance quickly behind him — his friends leaning back all together to take a glimpse of what's happening.

"i do ballet, yeah," you clear your throat. "and i only wear those when my coach is a-around. anyway, can i ask you guys a favor?"

"sure," he crosses his arms, finger tapping on his inner elbow. you greet the rest of the club with a small wave, flustered by the set of eyes upon you. you step closer to eddie.

"can you guys move your campaign to another day?" there's a high pitch to the end of your voice, an eye wrinkled to almost closing. you're met with what you expected — protesting of the boys behind eddie, who's frowns had replaced the glee on their faces. you wince at their reactions before you continue. "it's just that, the principal gave me the room beside yours and it's just really hard to focus. and i could ask you if you can just tone it down but—"

"it's okay," he untucks his hand from his arm, running a hand through his hair with a smile. "yeah, we can move it another day."

"what, eddie!" you know the guy who's protested - gareth. "we've been preparing for this one!"

"shut up," he snaps at them, a quick glare to the group before his eyes go back to it's soft demeanor once they set on you. "we can cancel it. for you. don't worry. besides, you need as much practice as you can get, right? can't have you falling and hurting yourself."

you beam, ignoring what his words might mean. "thank you!"

there's an awkward silence as eddie shakes his head with a laugh, because you're thinking of a better expression of gratitude than just words. so you pat him on his arm, feet absentmindedly pointed and twisting.

"i- i'll uh, i gotta go."

"yeah! of- of course," you don't realize he's blushed at the contact, your bare hand on his exposed arm, just above his tattoo. eddie hides his lips with his hair, making you smile. "you look nice, by the way."

you smile at him, and you wish he would see you in this outfit a lot more just to hear him say that again.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[donghoonie-3]

'22 KINKTOBER - DAY 05

Puppy play - Jake

For: @makiixuxii

Warnings: sub jake, dom reader, light puppy play, jake sucking readers fingers, pet names, jake wears dog ears and a collar, unprotected sex (better safe than sorry yall!!). Lmk if I missed anything!!

kinktober masterlist ♡

a/n: sorry for the bit of delay!! I was really tired last night so I couldn't get the fic finished just then :,). I'd like to thank @bigkpopstan for helping me out a bit<33 I hope whoever reads this fic enjoys it and as always, feedback and reblogs are more appreciated than a like<3

"So what did you want to talk about?" You ask Jake. He asked you if yous could talk about something so you sat down beside him on the couch.

"Well uhm...I'm not really sure how to say this..mmm" he said with one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is everything okay?" You say with concern. You guys rarely have chats like these and whenever you do it always ends up with comforting one or the other.

He let's out a sigh before nodding. "Yes, everything is okay I just uhm I wanted you to try something on me in bed- uh it's mm its called p-puppy play-" he quietly said with a shy voice.

You were shocked, to say the least. He always gave of puppy vibes, in a way you're not surprised he'd like something like this but you definitely didn't expect to see this coming today.

"Oh? Puppy Play? So like calling you puppy and all?" You tease a bit. "Yeah and uhm maybe.." he looks up into your eyes with his sparkling. "Maybe a collar...or ears too..." he whispers. You cant help but eye him up and down while biting your lips. The mental image of him wearing a collar and ears while calling him puppy was almost making you drool over the idea.

"Hmm okay, when do you want to do it jakey?" You ask with a soft smile. "would now be..okay?" He gets a bit shy at your question.

And so with that you both go upstairs to your room and have him kneel down on your bed. "Oh i uh I got a collar and ears..they should be in the top drawer" he says.

You turn over to the drawer and open it to see a thick pastel blue collar with a tag on it that says "puppy" on it along with black dog ears headband.

"I can't wait to see you in these, puppy" you say, already starting to call him puppy which makes him bite his lower lip.

"Now, can you strip for me? And then I'll put these on you puppy" he quickly nods and takes off his clothes then going back to his kneeling position.

You move closer to him and carefully put the collar around his pretty neck. Next thing you do is put the ears on him. You lift his head up with your pointer finger and thumb holding his chin. "You look so pretty like this Jakey" you sigh. All he does is just looks up at you with his puppy like eyes and his lips slightly parted.

"Can my puppy lie down for me?" You say with a soft voice and he obeys. "Good boy" you praise. You straddle his lap and move your hands from his shoulders to trail them slowly down his chest, to his stomach, to his pelvis. He shivers underneath you at your teasing touches.

"please" he whispers, clearly wanting more and so you give him more. You spit on your hand to use instead of lube and start to jerk his dick off to get him harder. You focus your hand on his tip for a couple of seconds before giving him a good few strokes and then again focusing on his tip.

"mnghh so good~" he moans out, his voice soft. "Such a pretty puppy" you praise him again. "mmm" he hums back.

Once you think he's hard enough you lift your hips up and position his dick to your entrance. "You ready puppy?" You ask. "mhm 'm always ready for you yn" he answers.

With that's said you sink down onto his dick causing the both of you to let out a moan. "aah- good.. feels good" he throws his head back.

"mmm my puppy's dick feels so good" you start to speak in third person and he looks like he's enjoying it quite a lot.

You start to move on his dick and move your hands to his waist and sooth his skin there with your hands. "The collar and ears suit you so much jakey" you breath out, picking up your pace.

"mngh ahh- t-thank you yn- ahh!" He moans and his hands hold onto your thighs at the feeling of you speeding up.

You lean in forward, keeping your weight up with one hand and cup his face with the other and kiss his cheek before. "You should've told me earlier that you were into this jake" you whispered into his ear before crashing your lips onto his and he moans into the kiss.

Your hand that was cupping his cheek now travelling down to his neck to touch his collar and resting your hand there.

You pull away from the kiss and rest your forehead against his. "I- I didn't know you'd ahh- react" he moans. "I wouldn't ever judge you for whatever you want to try puppy" you say before kissing his lips again.

"I love you" he whispers and closes his eyes to focus on the pleasure your pussy is giving him.

"I love you too puppy" you say back before leaning back up to your sitting position which causes him to open his eyes and whine at the lost of your warm body pressing against his and so you interlock your hands with his.

"My puppy is so needy for touch hm?" You say with your eyes half lidded. "mhm" he hums in reply. His mouth opens wide in a loud moan before sticking his tongue out like and looking up at you like a puppy.

You can't help yourself but to shove your fingers into his open mouth and he sucks on them immediately. "shit puppy you're so dirty- taking my fingers so well hm?" All he does is him around your fingers as a response.

His chest begins to move up and down faster and his moans becoming louder, you know this means he's close to cumming so you pull your fingers out of his mouth and wipe them on his abs, spreading his own saliva on them before interlocking you hand back with his.

"Is puppy close?" You ask. "so so close" he says with his eyes rolling back. "are you close too yn?" He asks you and you smile at his words. "Yes puppy, want you to cum with me okay?" You say and he answers with a soft okay.

Not even ten seconds later and you both cum at the same time. "o-oh my god yn!! fuck- so good" his back arches as his pretty moans come out of his mouth. His soft voice and his attractive accent making your brain feel even more dazed as you cum on his dick. The feeling of your walls milking him dry makes him whine and throw his head back.

Once yous calmed down from your highs you get up off him and get some wipes to clean you and him up. You take the ears off him but when you tried to take the collar off he quickly stopped you.

"I want to keep it on.." he says quietly. "Okay baby, do you need me to loosen it for you?" You ask. "No it's okay it feels good like this."

"mkay but let me know if it gets too tight okay?" He nods at your words and you smile at him.

"Mmm I'm hungry, can we order take out and watch something?" He asks all of a sudden which makes you giggle. "Of course, anything for my cute puppy" you say and give his lips a quick soft kiss.

Taglist: @makiixuxii @parkhonnie @hee-pster @foxdaisy @jaysbiceps @heeseongism @bbyhee send an ask to be added or removed<3

[kirchefuchs]

so @an-t-hiho (previously known as @/ann-aha) and I have been screaming at each other in our dms discussing a few things abt lmk

and we have both agreed that there should be an AU where Wukong doesn't completely Screw Things Up between he and Macaque and they both end up tormenting being mentors to MK

(forgive me for not knowing/maybe not remembering a ton of things abt Wukong's past bUT I heard from somewhere that in JTTW the Tang guy from the past completely tortures him with that crown thing?? hoping to use that as some sort of motivation but uhhhh hEY I do not know a lot abt JTTW so um. ahem. unless if you have some spare knowledge to give us, we're just gonna make stuff up as Ant and I hyperfixate about this soon-to-be AU we're planning on making)

bUT. but. but. we have plans™. and it's not just me this time who's thinking of these ideas (but it'll definitely just be me raising your inbox cuz Ant's still too nervous to do that) cuz now he and I are in the same fandoms for once in. like. uh. (checks calendar) ...a few months–

SO. I might send an ask again regarding our ACTUAL ideas (aaaand maybe Ant will reblog and/or add smthn a few hours after?? not too sure but knowing him he just might) AND you're gonna deal with it again /lh /silly

(I also might post about it. maybe. probably won't but just. mmmmmmaybe I dunno actually shdhdh OKAY BYEE)

(this also may or may not have been inspired by that one piece of fanart with P!Wukong saying smthn along the lines of "Do you really think you mean so little to me that I'd just kill you just like that?" and P!Macaque saying smthn in return like "You didn't exactly make it difficult for me to think that way," but, yk, I'll probably find it again–)

— 🅰️non CH🅰️Y || Oct. 20 2023

This ended up so much longer than I anticipated ( ﾟAﾟ )

Okay okay okay I need to explain a lil thing real quick. Tang Sanzang (Tripitaka) did not torture Wukong, at least not intentionally. There was a really good post about it somewhere on here, but I cant seem to find it so I'll explain what I can.

First off, Tripitaka was the main character of the story, and while he had some flaws (ex: listening to Bajie too much), he was a good man, and would never want to torture any of his deciples, no matter how annoying they'd get. He's a Buddhist monk afterall, there's a whole no violence thing.

The golden circlet/crown was given to Tripitaka by Guanyin to act as a way to punish Wukong for things he does wrong. Think about it for a moment. Remember, Wukong was just released from under a mountain after terrorizing the entire celestial realm, becoming 7 times immortal (I think it was that many), fighting all the celestial armies, peeing on Buddah's hand. After being released, Wukong promptly killed a tiger and skinned it so he could use the skin as clothes.

SO YEAH, obviously Tripitaka would take her up on a crown that would give the monkey really bad headaches!!! (Reciting a specific scripture I forgot makes the crown shrink, but it doesn't kill Wukong because he's very super immortal).

Now the thing is, yes, he did use the spell on Wukong multiple times when Wukong had done nothing wrong, but a lot of those were because Bajie told him Wukong did something wrong, or he just didn't have all the facts. Now, I haven't read the Journey to the West either, and most of my knowledge comes from the Overly Sarcastic Productions videos summarizing the story (which you should watch, btw), so I dont have all the facts, nor do I have a perfect knowledge of the parts of the story I do know, however I am confident that Tripitaka did not intentionally tourture or abuse Wukong. I mean, Wukong cut off his own head once for fun, so idk what else to say, my guy.

Do I think that using the migrane spell is the most moral thing to do? No. Was the spell the only way to get Wukong to cooperate? At the very start, very possibly yes. Later? I'mnot sure. Is Tripitaka a bad guy for using it as much as he does? No, he didn't know better. Are the Wukong girlies wayyy to obsessed with angst? Yes, so very much. I fear for them.

It was not the point of the story for Tripitaka to be abusive. The story was meant to be symbolic. Each of the pilgrims symbolized a part of a person. Tripitaka was the heart, Wukong the mind, Zhu Bajie the body, Bai Longma the will, and Sha Wujing the emotions. (There are some lovely people on this hellsite who can explain the symbolism better than me, so you can go look into that if it interests you.)

All in all, every one of the pilgrims were pretty stupid (affectionate) in their own ways, and I hate seeing people hate on Tripitaka soecifically when the story is so ridiculous a lot of the time. I just love these silly little guys, and I think we need to remember that they are very silly. Tripitaka never meant to be cruel to Wukong just as in lmk Wukong and Macaque never meant to be cruel to each other in their past. All these idiots are pretty bad at communicating, and Tripitaka is incredibly socially awkward. Man doesn't know how friends work.

I just think we should cut him some slack for the mistakes he made. Yall forgave Wukong for all his chaos and bloodshed, so I think it'd just be fair to forgive Tripitaka for not really comprehending having hurt Wukong.

Anyways, I'll shut up now. I'm excited to hear the ramblings of you two nerds ♡♡♡♡

[adder24]

Who holds the balance?

Summary: Daniel is intrigued about those that rule the after life and more importantly who is in charge of the balance between life and death.

Authors note: Just a gif story on how Our boy Loki could be the man that keeps the balance of life and death, It's Feasible. Tagging those who enjoy my silly gif stories.

@untilthe12ofnever @the-boneyard-rider @profwonderbearthementalista @reeselivesforeverinmyheart @loops911 @nikki-rook @hellostickerdoodle @nuggsmum @moviesaremylife @happiness-in-the-dark @traveler-of-realms @izhunny @plinkitee @bonnie131313

Feel free to reblog. Story under the cut

Ever since Daniel had became an honorary family member to the reapers, he's found himself asking more questions about the world ruled by gods and demons, then he ever had. His knowledge was what came from his family and the hunters, so not always completely accurate, especially when it came down to what they knew about the reapers and how the hunters felt they couldn't be trusted.

It was a fact that got under Adder's skin, a lot but he soon educated Daniel with the facts, all except one.

"So who holds the balance?" Daniel asked one evening while Duke was busy trying to slaughter Rusty after another prank that wound him up.

"Well at the moment it seems to be Duke, he's got Rusty pinned and Rusty is going to try and charm his way out" Adder replied as he watched the squabbling duo like a father watching squabbling siblings.

"No not between those two....I mean the balance, you know, between life and death" Daniel replied as he grabbed the popcorn that was sitting on the coffee table, made from old engine parts. "Heaven is ruled by gods and Angels, Hell is ruled by Satan and Demons, so it only makes sense that the balance is held by an entity of some sort"

"Aaah that! Well you'd be right there is an entity holding the balance together, another god in fact. He gave up everything to make sure that the circle of life continued as it should. I like to think of the balance as being like Yggdrasil, the tree of life. The tree grows, produces fruit, the fruit falls, rots and gives nourishment to the ground so that it can nourish Yggdrasil and the seeds within the fruit can grow. Boom circle of life" Adder explained before noticing Duke reach for a wrench "DUKE. NO!"

"THIS PRICK NEEDS A LABOTAMY AND I CAN DO IT FOR FREE!" Duke screamed.

"Put. it.down!" Adder growled, watching Duke toss the wrench aside in disappointment "You know the rules! Orson will deal with him"

"Oh yeah! Orson gonna get out the broom for you sonny!" Duke replied happily as Rusty's once cheeky look fell from his face.

"Uh-Oh" Rusty whimpered

Adder rolled his eyes. It never ceased to amaze him how Duke and Rusty always found something to squabble over. Every day. Non-stop.

"You ever met them? You know the god that holds the balance, " Daniel asked as Rusty was introduced to his fate by a rather disgruntled Orson.

"Once. I was in limbo and I was in a bad place. I went looking for a fight with our enemies and because I wasn't with it, I got over powered, knocked out and slung into the Hudson. Should have died but for some reason I ended up there, right in front of Yggdrasil. Beautiful looking tree" Adder replied as he sat down on the couch, pausing for thought. "The god resides in Yggdrasil on a throne holding it altogether, keeping watch and making sure everything is as it should be"

Daniel raised his eyebrows impressed, knowing that only a god could keep something as delicate as the balance of life and death, balanced. Yet it still didn't answer the question on Daniel's lips.

"Yeah but what did he look like? Was he cool looking? Was he scary?! Come on feed me knowledge that I can use to seduce the ladies with" Daniel pleaded.

Adder just laughed, amused by the fact Daniel was using his knowledge to seduce the single huntresses amoung the Hunters ranks.

"How's that working out for you?" Adder chuckled

"Not so good" Daniel muttered

"Well I'll tell you if you stop using our history as a ridiculous, chat up method." Adder replied.

"Come on man women like stuff like that...Especially at Halloween when all the scary stories-"

"Daniel" Adder interrupted firmly, hating the fact Daniel possibly tells scary stories about them, even after the lecture he gave about how it is a little offensive to Reapers.

"Fine. No more seducing women with Reaper history" Daniel grumbled.

"Good man. Now, the god in Yggdrasil, he wore a crown with long horns, like the devil, raven black hair, green eyes, a tongue of silver and green robes" Adder replied.

"Man likes green...is he like a nature god?" Daniel asked

"Not really....but he is wise. When he sensed me being there, the branches parted, there was this weird, comforting green glow around him. He looked at me and told me that we, the reapers, are the groundkeepers, without the groundkeepers the tree can't flourish and can become sick which can alter the balance. He made me realise my importance and the next thing I knew, I woke up and Orson, who was sopping wet, was dragging my ass out of the Hudson and cussing my stubbornness" Adder explained

"So does he have a name?" Daniel asked

"Oh now that would be telling Daniel, can't be telling a mere mortal like you the name of the god holding the balance together. But what I will say....is he is a little mischievous"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Re your dream: That smacks of MobBoss!Thor. Your current boyfriend is one of Thor's higher-ups and he brought you along to a dinner meeting and Thor is immediately taken with you. Thor is of course very charming and starts working on how to steel you away from your boyfriend.

Take a Seat

Warnings: allusions to mafia/crime, intimidation, suggestions of verbal and mental abuse, toxicity.

This might just be a drabble, but I'd appreciate a reblog and some feedback! You are loved and appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Those are mostly capos," Travis keeps his voice low as he points to the table nearby, keeping the glass in hand to hide his gesture, "I think…" he cranes around, "I might be the only soldier here…"

"Really?" You raise your brows but quickly resume your neutral preen.

You're intimidated as it is. You don't know much about Travis' business, and this is your first time seeing it from the inside. However, it doesn't seem to be anything more than an overly fancy dinner party.

"Oh, and that's Loki," he darts his eyes sharply to a slender man strutting at the other end of the room. He has a short liquor glass in hand and stops to lean on close to a blond man along the head table, "the boss's brother. The one he's chatting up right now." Travis leans in, "Thor…" he explains, "hon," he puts his hand on yours, "try not to stare. Lot of guys in here don't appreciate it."

"Sorry, I…" your eyes catch the pair of blue irises at the near table. The ones set into the chiseled face of that man proclaimed boss, Thor. Your lips part in surprise before you quickly avert your gaze. "I'm just nervous."

"Yeah, uh, well, try not to look like it," he reproaches. "Maybe…maybe I shoulda come alone."

You try not to frown. He does that. When you go out to dinner, if you don't keep a smile pasted on, suddenly the night is spoiled. Or even at home when you're having a quiet night in, you can ruin the night with one wrong word.

"I'll keep my eyes to myself," you promise, "okay?"

"Right," he nods past you and greets another man as he passes by. "Make sure you do. And if someone says hi, don't be so shy. I don't need you getting on the wrong side of these guys." He grabs his glass and takes a gulp, "this could be my in."

"Got it," you pinch the stem of your champagne flute and draw it closer but don't drink. Better not, sobriety will keep you out of trouble.

💍

Travis ends up at another table, enthralled in conversation with a pair of greasy haired gangsters in patterned velvet jackets. You stare at the table, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. Dinner is over and dessert has mostly gone untouched. You're just waiting for the end.

Thinking of the drive back, you should try to hit the bathroom before that. You peek around cautiously and stand, hugging your clutch to your side as you carefully sidle out from between the table and chair. You keep your head down and make your way to the wall, following it to the short hallway that leads to a set of restrooms.

Inside, you take your time, relieved at the moment of privacy. As you wash your hands, you watch your reflection. You look tired even through your makeup.

You grab your purse and go back out. You hold back a yawn as you get to the end of the hallway and you stop to search the room, making sure Travis is where you left him. You take a step, nearly tripping as a deep voice rumbles from closeby.

You think of ignoring it, assuming they're speaking to someone else, but then you remember what Travis said. You turn and look around.

The blond man, the one with the burly shoulders that threaten the seams of his tailored jacket, grins at you. His fingers are woven together and his elbows rest on the table. He winks at you as you peer around in confusion, expecting someone else to be closeby. It's only you.

"You," he separates his hand and points in your direction, "I do not know you."

You open and close your mouth. You step closer as you swallow and find a smile through your nerves. You grip your purse tight and pronounce your name.

"I'm with Travis. Er, Mallory. My boyfriend. Uh, sir."

His eyes twinkle with amusement, "Thor," he introduces, "sir? Please, none of that is needed. Not for a pretty woman like you."

"S-thank you, Th-Thor," you sound utterly stupid as you try to keep your calm. If Travis saw you talking to this man, you know it would be bad. He wouldn't want you messing up his prospects.

"Sit," his invitation is more a demand.

You can't refuse. What little you know of this business suggests he is even more dangerous than Travis. You go around the table as Thor stands and pulls out the empty chair next to him. You sit and make yourself breathe.

"Boyfriend?" He resumes his seat, angling to face you, "not husband?"

"Not yet," you say.

"And why would he wait?" He wonders as you wilt against his handsome gaze.

"I'm sure he'll propose soon," you shrug, "dinner was great."

"Ah, it was delicious," he sits back, "though my company was not so pleasing." He bends his arm against the table, "not like you."

"I… thank you. That's very, uh, flattering."

"It's the truth. I'm afraid I was probably poor company myself. Being as distracted as I was," his eyes cling to you, "wondering who this beautiful stranger is."

You look away. He's charming, if not a touch cheesy. You don't know how to handle it.

"There you are," Travis saves you from your conundrum. "I was just thinking we should–" he stops and clears his throat, "sir," he stands at the end of the table, "hi, er, I didn't see you there," it's obvious his surprise is fake, "Travis Mallory, I work with Haakonson."

"Ah, yes, he is a reliable capo," Thor shifts and puts his hand on the back of your chair, "I was only just having a discussion with your… girlfriend."

"Oh? That's…great," Travis is less than convincing.

"Yes, I was just agreeing with her that it's really too bad you haven't proposed," Thor asserts and your eyes widen. "A girl like her should have a ring on her finger."

"Yea, sir, I agree, I, um, I was… trying to surprise her–"

"Ah, so you have a ring? Diamond? I think a teardrop becomes this one but she might do well with a princess cut," Thor proclaims as he takes your hand, drawing a wince from you. "She should be adorned in gold and gems."

"Sir, I know, I've been working on it–"

"Ah, ah," Thor keeps his hand on yours, "I don't like excuses. And she shouldn't settle for them."

Thor raises your hand and kisses your knuckles. You can only let him. Your scalp spatters with heat as you nearly combust between the two men.

"She deserves a throne… look at her, a queen."

"Sir, thank you. She is. I take care of her–"

"Do you?" Thor accuses, "how do you take care of her?"

You don't dare tug your hand away despite the urge to do just that. You sit frozen as his hand crushes yours. You slowly turn your head to glance at Travis, his cheek twitching in agitation.

"I…" he swallows and tries to wet his dry mouth. He can't yell this man into submission and he knows it.

"Let me give her the throne she deserves," Thor snickers and leans over. His nose tickles your ear and he lowers his voice to a whisper, "come, kitten, sit in my lap."

He sits back and you gape at him, shocked by his suggestion. No, it's an order. You blink and look at Travis again. Thor hits the table with his large hand, the plates and cutlery clattering.

"You don't need his permission," he pulls on your arm, "you need only my word."

"S-sorry," you slide forward in the seat and stand stiffly.

Thor releases your hand and shoves his chair back, running his large hands over his thighs. You step in front of him and he frames your hips, pulling you down before you can think to refuse. You fall into his lap, bracing his forearm to keep your balance.

"Now that is where a woman like her belongs," Thor leans into you and rests his chin on your shoulder, "with a king, not a peasant."

You look at Travis, horror pumping in your veins, a fear reflected in his drawn face. Thor brushes a hand up your stomach and turns his head to nuzzle your neck. The tickle of his beard makes you moan.

Thor lifts his head at last, his arm hooked around you as he clings to your tightly, "what a wonderful gift you brought me, soldier."

Travis does not move. He just stares, blinking as his fingers twiddle at his side. Your lip trembles. What do you do?

"You are dismissed," Thor enunciates harshly.

Travis bites down, jaw clenching tightly, and he murmurs, "yes, boss."

His sole scuffs as he drags his foot back. You watch him in disbelief. He's just leaving you there.

"You see, kitten," Thor reaches to pet your head, "he is not good enough for you. You deserve more than a coward."

[cambria-writes]

Comments, reblogs, tags and replies are always welcome heavily encouraged actually ❤ pairing: jane x named reader word count: 2,281 rating: PG13   warnings: discussion of murders, weapons, typical procedural show stuff previousnext

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗: 𝔖𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔴

You wake up slowly and lazily. No fanfare. And no idea when you fell asleep to begin with. Panic shakes you awake; you don't recognize the room you're in. You stumble to the door before you remember. The murder, the blood, the hours of driving here and there.

Lean against the door, press your forehead against it. Tommy's death feels so unreal. Just yesterday morning you said hello, talked about his newborn grandson. Let yourself hyperventilate for a bit before trying to take deep breaths. Christ, who's going to take care of Peekaboo?

Wait.

Turn around too fast and lose balance. You have no idea where your phone is. Thankfully, that doesn't seem necessary. Mr Jane looks to be asleep in the arm chair. Pulled it back to where it was, away from the desk. His jacket is still on the counter in the small kitchenette.

You dig through the pockets to find his phone; blissfully unlocked. Everyone also is thankfully entered with their actual names.

"Jane where the hell have you been?" Agent Lisbon sounds extremely upset and out of breath. It takes you a second to be able to answer. She sounds entirely different from yesterday.

"Um, Agent Lisbon? It's Skye Benraft?"

"Oh. Oh my god, Miss Benraft I'm so sorry. I thought..." Can almost hear her pinch the bridge of her nose. "What can I help you with?" Voice still has an edge to it, but she sounds much more like the agent you spoke to earlier.

"Sorry, I just—Agent Van Pelt told me to call if I remembered anything and you were the first name I recognized in Mr Jane's phone, uh. He stayed the night. I mean! Jesus no he kept me company? God all of that sounds wrong, shit." Take another stuttering breath.

"I'm sorry, Miss Benraft, but I'm—"

"No, it's—the dog, Tommy had a dog. A tiny black and white thing? God I really don't know what race it is, just that her name is Peekaboo and she wasn't in the house when I was there," you finish with a sigh, run a nervous hand through your hair.

"It's possible the dog just ran off after the murder. The door was left open," Lisbon tries to reason. If it had been any other dog and any other person, you might have been inclined to agree.

"No, no Peekaboo never stayed more than ten feet away from Tommy. He'd walk her without a leash all the time and in the eight years I've been in that neighborhood she's never run away before."

Agent Lisbon is fairly quiet for a moment. You hear a door opening and closing and conversations in the distance.

"Do you have any idea if the dog was a pure bred? Some kind of show dog?," agent Lisbon asks. You frown; it's not hard to recall.

"Uh, actually. Probably, yeah. Yeah I think I remember Tommy mentioning that Peekaboo won a couple shows? He might have been preparing for another show, I—it's not like we talked a lot but that was just so weird that a man in his nineties would enter a dog show. It kind of stood out, right?"

Lisbon makes an appreciative sound on the other end. "Thank you, Skye, that's actually a great help. Was there anything else?" She sounds like a patient mother, now. Calm and collected. Makes you feel like you actually helped. You're not convinced you did.

"Well, there's, I don't really know how to—"

Your conversation is cut short; the phone is plucked from your hands and your heart just about leaps out of your rib cage.

"Lisbon! I'll be busy today. Take Grace with you, I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Snaps the phone shut.

Oh Jesus. You absolutely feel like a wounded gazelle under his stare. His face only seems impassive on the surface; even you can recognize the clenching of the jaw and the deliberate set of the brows. You back up against the fridge.

"I couldn't find my phone I didn't go through your stuff I swear I just, I remembered something and I figured you'd have someone's. What... what are you doing?"

Confused, you watch Mr Jane grab and throw his jacket over his shoulder. Pulls out a pair of aviators from god knows where. He grabs your messenger bag and throws it at you. You only barely manage to catch it.

"You're phone's in the side pocket."

"Where are we going, though? I mean I'm not exactly dressed for anything?"

Turns around. You don't like that toothy grin in the slightest.

"You are going to be putting your newfound knowledge to good use."

Questions bubble up and out of you like water in the parking lot. You hadn't given much thought as to what kind of car you would be traveling in. You'd assumed something like the CBI SUV agent Van Pelt drove yesterday.

"Is that an actual Citroen? What year is it? My parents called this a fish tank but it looks kind of nice? Whose soul did you sell to be able to afford gas for this thing? Does it still have the original engine block? What about the paint job?"

Jane makes an attempt to answer as many of your questions as he can. Eventually, he stops trying, simply lets you go on until you stop yourself, realize you've been rambling and shut up. There's nothing malicious about any of it. It's almost indulgent.

The car itself is actually more comfortable than it looks, which is honestly saying a lot. You settle into comfortably and completely forego asking where you're going. You probably wouldn't get a straight answer anyways. You do, however, have a few more unrelated questions.

"When did I fall asleep?"

Mr Jane seems to mull this over a bit, tapping out a beat on the steering wheel. "Around two this morning, I think," he answers easily, keeping his eyes on the road. There's an expression you can't quite read on his face. "You don't remember?"

You shake your head. "No, I just..." You trail off, frowning and trying to remember something. Anything. "I remember your asking what I know about cold reading, tells and non-verbal shit but like. Not really... anything after that?"

He lets a beat pass. You have two simultaneous realizations in those few seconds.

"Wait, you. Did you hypnotize me?" You make sure to make your disbelief clear. Jane looks at you for a second. Again with that self satisfaction. "Why?"

"To see how prone you are to suggestion," he explains. The tone in his voice makes you feel like this is a conclusion you should have drawn naturally, by yourself. How the hell.

"And?"

"Not very, stunningly."

You want to be offended. But the answer surprises you, too. You would have thought that your willingness to believe in hypnosis and suggestion would make you especially susceptible to it. You're almost relieved to hear that isn't the case. You sink back in your seat, look off to the east. Dark clouds rolling in on the horizon. It's a little eerie.

"If I ask, will you tell me where we're going?"

You aren't sure if that was a chuckle or a scoff. "Probably not."

For two hours, you're mostly left to yourself and your phone. When you first check it you've got about 20 missed calls and just as many text messages. Some from concerned friends, most from the bookstore owner. For the first half hour, that's all you do. Reply to messages and make calls. Everyone seems distraught that you stumbled upon a corpse, and the store owner insists you take a week off, maybe two. Whatever time you need, she says she'll pay you for half of it. Least I could do, she says.

You're most of the way to sleeping when Mr Jane pulls over at a diner. A little nondescript place off the interstate, looks family owned. You aren't given an explanation.

"Please tell me this is a food stop," you ask. Complain, actually; you won't lie. You're starving. You can't remember the last time you ate anything substantial.

"I don't know about you but I'm craving a good burger," Jane replies, and again you feel like you aren't actually being told anything. Or getting answers.

You're seated at a comfortable booth by a plucky waitress. She talks too much. Thankfully, Jane takes care of most of the small talk. You nod when appropriate, but otherwise keep quiet. He orders for you. You'd be offended if he hadn't actually asked for scrambled eggs and bacon with a cup of coffee for you. Coffee sounds like just the thing you need right now.

When the waitress comes back some time later with both food and coffee (bless her and the cook, they are saints), Mr Jane pipes up, rests a hand on the woman's arm. You can't help but frown; that's a trick, right? Something nags at your memory, but you can't quite wrap your mind around it just yet.

"Have you heard about a murdered dog owner, out here?"

Your jaw drops. That... you did not expect that.

But the waitress suddenly has a gleam in her eye. A true gossip. Figures; small communities have fast-traveling news. You, however, can't connect the dots to Tommy, his missing dog and this waitress in the middle of relatively nowhere on the way to who knows where.

"Oh my—yes, I did! Poor old man," she puts a hand over her heart and looks genuinely crestfallen. "Johnny or Tommy or something, right? He'd stop by here every couple months with this cutest little dog! Black and white, a uh, what's it called again."

"Havanese, right?" Jane has eyes only for the waitress. You can't say she doesn't notice. She looks flattered by the attention.

"Yeah, that's it! Havanese! Cutest little thing, like I said. We're a nice spot for those dog show people when they come down. We're one of the only dog-friendly diners around here, yeah? So a lot of people will stop by on their way to Paso Robles." The waitress seems blissfully oblivious to the handful of patrons shooting her either interested or displeased looks.

Jane leans in. You begin to wonder what it is about people and pretending they have a secret. Jesus.

"I heard," he starts, hushed tone, looks around as if to make sure no one else is paying attention. Everyone is. You sure are. "That it was that one crazy killer. The one that started in Fresno?"

The waitress gasps, mostly shocked and entirely captivated. "No way!" She startles herself, looks around, lowers her tone. "You're kidding, right? Why would anyone kill a poor old man over a dog?"

Mr Jane shrugs and begins nursing what you assume, by now, is a mug of tea. The waitress—her name is Mindy, you think, but the nametag is awfully faded—turns to you with a shocked expression. You can't think of anything else to do but shrug as well.

"She's the one who found the body," Jane whispers, and you can feel you chest and neck turn red.

"Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god," Waitress Mindy brings both hands to her mouth and completely forgets about the pad and pen she was holding. They clatter to the floor, but no one seems to notice or care. "Oh sweetie, I can't let you pay. That's terrible. It's on the house, don't worry about it."

And then she disappears through the doors to the kitchen.

You glare at Mr Jane.

"That was completely and wholly un—"

"It wasn't completely unnecessary," he cuts you off, that toothy, wolfish grin on his face again. You're torn between finding it charming and annoying. Maybe limited exposure makes it more endearing. "Now we know who killed Old Man Tommy."

You pause and frown. You also wonder how fast you'll develop wrinkles with how much you've frowned in the past two days.

"Wait so. There's a serial killer in California, from Fresno, who, what? Kills people with prize dogs? That makes no sense?" You're almost too incredulous to touch your eggs. Almost. You try not to think about what happens to the dogs. Shove some bacon down your throat and pretend it was never an animal.

Jane patiently sits in front of you, sipping his tea and occasionally having a bit of eggs on toast. Alright, so he's trying to let you figure this out for yourself. You have no idea why, but alright. What the heck? Some brain work will keep you distracted enough to forget a corpse in rigor mortis.

"Kills the owner, goes after a show dog. Probably doesn't kill the dog; I mean, if you go through the trouble of eli...eliminating competition?" You get a raised brow in response. Okay, close, but a little off track. "Well the dogs aren't getting kidnapped to be used in shows. Judges would notice that the same dog is showing up under a different owner and trainer. Right? Unless..." You trail off, biting down on your fork.

"Unless what?," Jane prompts, leans back in his seat and throws his arm over the back.

"Okay but saying that the judges or the registration staff are in on it is some conspiracy theory BS though, right?" You pause. No reply. Passive face, not even a raised brow. You deflate. "Oh come on, that can't be right."

"You tell me, Fortune Teller. What do the cards say?"

You hate the condescending tone, but take out your deck of cards regardless. You're not liking the feeling of being a pet project, but even you can't deny that this is the most excitement you've had in years.

@fucklife-or-me​ pray for the tag to work 🙏

[aprillikesthings]

YAY I'M OFF WORK until Monday

IT'S TIME FOR MORE SHE-RA REWATCH

s2 ep6 Light Spinner

just read the synopsis on the wikipedia episode list and Oof this one is going to be hard

Edit: oof I jumped around a lot, including mentions of the bible, my fave art, other cartoons and (predictably, for an episode about Shadow Weaver) my own history as a child abuse survivor and my dad dying. So, uh, you've been warned?

okay

let's do this

do they mention why she covers her face at this point? I forget

okay so true story and totally off topic but I get distracted every time Micah's name is mentioned because my favorite verse of the Bible is from the book of Micah. It's the fave verse of a lot of people lol I'm not unique. But yeah, Micah 6:8:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord ask of you, But to do justice, and to love kindness, And to walk humbly with your God?

I've half-joked for years now that if enough of your childhood report cards say any variation on "They have so much potential if they'd only apply themselves" you should get diagnosed with ADHD without further questions.

Hordak: why is Shadow Weaver still fucking HERE Catra: bc I like getting a chance to taunt her >:3 I MEAN, uh, she's a good source of information? Hordak: she needs to get to Beast Island, I don't like having her around she knows too damn much Catra: but she can't actually do anything without her fancy-ass magic rock

*power goes out*

Entrapta: ha ha WHOOPSIE Catra: wtf are you DOING

Hordak: stop bothering my girlfriend Catra: wtf??? Entrapta: Entrapta: uhhhhh did I interrupt something Hordak: no it's fine bb don't worry about it <3 Hordak: ANYWAY Catra get that witch to tell you shit and then GET RID OF HER or I'LL GET RID OF YOU Catra: >:(

In all seriousness I remember watching this episode and thinking: lol omg are they ship-baiting this???

And then the usual culprits did the "yOu cAnT sHiP tHaT" and I started reblogging content of it out of sheer fucking spite. Also at least one writer for the show is like "y'all Entrapta is in her late 20's/early 30's" and--wait hold on I know there's screenshots from twitter of the same person:

But yeah stuff in later seasons made me cackle with laughter because it's not even subtle. At all.

Anyway you gotta be careful about spite-shipping. That's how I ended up having a lot of feelings about Jaspis from SU, ha ha WHOOPS

jfc this and a previous line (talking about "gifted students") and it's like...why are y'all having her quote all the shit my teachers said trying to encourage me and only traumatizing me.

mmmm don't like that

I know I keep harping on how textbook of an abuser she is, but I love that the clues were there already. This is the kind of shit abusers do! Look at how controlling and possessive she is, but in a way that outsiders will just see as "she's a very invested/involved teacher."

gahhhhhh

plot plot plot the Horde is already invading, the Princesses are useless against them, our leaders aren't doing SHIT, anyway the sorcerers are meeting tomorrow and I hope they let me boss them around into agreeing with me

this shot of the moons over Etheria reminds me of one of my fave artists--these pieces are layered resin, and I keep meaning to buy some prints of theirs. (One day I want to own an original. ;_; I love the way they use colors and the layers and just the daydreamy vibes of so much of their work.)

(More of their stuff here)

plot plot Scorpia and Catra talk about how Catra doesn't want to send Shadow Weaver to Beast Island and Scorpia is surprised Beast Island is real and not a scary story they tell kids

Catra: but but but Shadow Weaver can tell us shit!

Scorpia: anyway I thought you hated her??? Catra: you wouldn't understand >:(

I understand. I hate that I understand it. UGH.

plot plot Light Spinner tries to convince the sorcerers that the Horde is a threat, and points out they've taken the Black Garnet, and says let's cast a big spell together and GET SOME POWERRRR

Sorcerer dude: that spell is FUCKED, absolutely not [for real the way he talks about it sounds kiiiinda like The One Ring] Light Spinner: fuck yOU

OH so I didn't quote it but Catra says the same line earlier, about Hordak: "After everything I've done he still doesn't trust me"

Catra is trying to save Shadow Weaver's life and Shadow Weaver is like...meh. But hey can you bring me an old trinket that's of sentimental value? I will never ask you to do anything else.

[I am Suspicious.]

back in time, Light Spinner manipulates Micah into doing the Big Scary Spell with her, they accidentally unleash a hORRIFYING MONSTER

(I'm suddenly reminded of the last two episodes of Gravity Falls. It never ceases to amuse me that Alex Hirsch was told he couldn't do all kinds of totally innocent things, but he could have, well, the shit in the last two episodes. I remember telling my then-boyfriend that the intro of those last episodes had shots that looks like actual nightmares I've had)

Oh also the flailing disembodied hands remind me of some of the early episodes about the Cluster in Steven Universe. Remember Garnet finding some of the early fusion experiments made with broken bits of gems?

Aaugh.

(Also remember when Peridot was still kinda spooky and scary?)

OKAY SORRy wow I'm distracted tonight.

yeah that didn't work so great

And that's what messed up Shadow Weaver's face, and she throws a fit at everyone and calls them "weak" and uhhh murders at least one of them?

face-touching! the only way she's able to show any affection at all...but only ever to manipulate people in her charge. anyway she disappears after that.

Catra is not going to get a satisfying answer. One of the reasons it was a relief when my dad died was that I could let go of ever having any hope of him explaining to any kind of satisfaction why he did what he did. (He did apologize, once; in the most manipulative and self-serving way possible, when I was 35--at the time I thought maybe it meant something, but eventually I realized he'd actually made things worse, because he'd taken away any belief I might've clung to that he didn't know any better at the time.)

In any case, Shadow Weaver's answer is basically "You're just like me, and my life was hard, so why should yours be easy?" Like that old line about how people who suffer through hard things have one of two reactions: Either "why shouldn't you also suffer, you're not better than me," and "nobody should have to suffer like I did."

;_;

I understand Catra so much. You still want that love. You can't not. You know you won't get it, not the way you need it, and you settle for a facsimile.

I'm gonna throw myself into the sun

And then we go back in time to see the arrival of baby!Adora, like as an actual infant. They don't say where she got her.

Hordak: "I arrived too late. I found something but it's useless. Put it with the other infants in the infirmary."

"It." bleh.

Shadow Weaver: hmmm that's one powerful baby. Hordak: ugh, weirdo. You can have it. But ffs it's being noisy take it somewhere else.

Shadow Weaver's just like: oh sweet I get to start from scratch with this one.

Anyway under her tray of food that Catra brought her was her sorcerer's guild...thing. That she asked for earlier in the episode. Which means Catra did bring it to her.

And Shadow Weaver's gone.

This explains part of why Catra gets worse for the next like two seasons. She tried to extend a kindness to Shadow Weaver--keeping her from being sent to Beast Island, giving her the trinket thing, offering to work together since Shadow Weaver thinks they have so much in common, right? But it bites her in the ass so bad.

So why should she be kind to anyone? When has anyone been kind to her? When has Catra being kind to anyone ever improved her life or made it easier?

But yeah the trinket had some kinda magic dust in it and Shadow Weaver escaped, and Catra had a (very understandable) meltdown about it.

Back in Bright Moon, the Best Friends Squad is using the moon alignment to get a clearer signal on Bow's track pad: "Serenia. Portal. Mara." AAAAND end of episode.

Yeah I was right. That was a rough one.

[lillyorlyracat]

Revamped intro post

What's up sweet bippies it's me autism cat

My name is Lilly, or Lyra, or Lilac, or Cat, or April. I am audhd(autistic and ADHD), I'm fictionkin, I have a shit ton of interests so my posts will be varied and inconsistent (if you only follow me for one fandom that's still cool idc)

Sometimes I'll post my art, sometimes I'll just yell into my keyboard and wait for people to press buttons on it. Mostly I just reblog posts I like, sorry folks

Update: decided to make an art tag! Just to organize stuff :P it'll be #🐱drawn by yours truly

Also, about that fictionkin thing? Yeah so I'm Ember Lumen from Elemental in the realz. I don't have any source memories or anything but I'm 100% her :P 🔥

Update (1/4/24): I'm also Ruby Gillman Teenage Kraken in the realz!! Again no source mems as far as I can tell, but my mom irl is definitely also Agatha in the movie >u< 🌊

F/O list here ⬇️⬇️

Dni list & boundaries uwu

Pro_sh/ppers/com_sh/ppers/pro_f/c etc bitches please don't interact, just, please,,

No z00ph+les either get outta here

I am a minor so please don't like,, be weird,,, or anything (UPDATE: technically I am no longer a minor but this still applies)

Homophobes, transphobes, xeno/neophobes etc get outta here

OH ABLEISTS! YEAH YOU GUYS GTFO TOO, I AINT DISEASED >:D

Aggressive anti furries.. like. People who think furry = z00ph+le.. get outta here you’re not welcome ^^

Please don't dm me with like "hey wanna be friends" or anything like that out of nowhere.. if you wanna be friends with me, try asking about common interests maybe? Idk? I'm cool with making friends, that's just,, not the way to do it,,, y'know

Doubles are awesome, other Elemental kinnies are super cool! Buuuut if any Wades have like romantic Ember memories maaaybe don't interact? I already have a bf, and although I'm poly I'm uncomfortable with the idea of another partner right now. I'll be friends with a Wade tho, hi friend Wades 👋🔥

Ruby update: doubles are okay here too! But no Connors with romantic mems please. I...don't feel very romantically connected to Connor tbh. I'll be friends with y'all tho! Hi Connors!! 👋💦

I'll uh update this periodically cuz I'm probably forgetting a lot

Links to my other socials!

Youtube ⬇️

Instagram ⬇️

AO3 ⬇️

Picsart ⬇️

"You might think that this is the end...

Well it is!"

[friendshipgun]

😈

💖-specifically, when did you start writing, what kind of things did you write, what inspired you, how has your writing journey looked?

and uh i fuckin forget the emoji but character headcanon(s) for mia winters and/or jesse evilwest (and his twin??)

hope these are fun to answer!

Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

i think maybe you asked this one the last time i reblogged this ask meme but there has also been Fic Progression so i also understand lol. but no, not really. a lot of the time i don't even clock something that might read like that until i get comments about it. i am however mean to Karl and Ethan on purpose and so there is probably splash damage from that lol.

(and i'm gonna have to readmore the rest bc it gets long, apologies) What made you start writing?

i don't know when exactly i started, just that i remember putting little books of "stories" together in elementary school. i wrote what i think technically counts as LOTR fanfic and MLP oc fic lmao. but what i mostly wrote was original fiction. a cousin i was close to as a kid was also big into writing and we ended up attending a summer camp for the arts together in middle school, so i was writing mostly poetry there, but prose too. i also started writing fic with another friend in middle/high school (stuff like pokemon crack fic lmao), but i was still mostly writing original fiction. in high school in particular i got BIG into writing poetry (idk if anyone else knows about allpoetry.com but i sure was spending a heck of a lot of time there), was editor of the high school literary magazine, etc etc. basically i was never not writing. i was also posting way more fic in high school, writing primarily angst at that point and largely for Final Fantasy.

then i went to college and stopped writing for a few years barring academic papers. started taking writing seminars the last few semesters i was there which got me writing again. again mostly original fiction. a lot of supernatural stuff, not really poetry anymore though, which is kind of a shame bc of how much i had liked it. started writing fic again too, a lot of Naruto stuff that i never posted anywhere. then my dad of all people got me into Supernatural and i wrote a bunch of fic for that that i also never posted anywhere. then i went to grad school and the "not writing anything except academic papers" thing started up again rip. really didn't pick it up again as a regular practice until after my dad died a few years back. wrote a bunch of stuff about grief that was uhhhhhhhhh pretty clearly me trying to process shit.

and then it was covid and i lost my job and i was watching playthroughs of re7 and re8 almost concurrently going "but what if you put Heisenberg in the swamp WHAT THEN." as for what inspires me, i guess just about everything? like the number of stories i wrote set in Japan after i'd studied abroad there...is a lot. and with fic it's just like "i just think it would be neat if character i like was in a Situation." when i was writing poetry a lot of it was teenage angst bc i was in high school but i'd also write about cities or people or fantasy epics. anyway this is already really long but yeah basically if i think about it for long enough that it becomes "I Just Think They're Neat" territory i'll want to write something about it.

Mia Winters Headcanon:

she doesn't trust easily and has for a long time kept things about herself secret, or lied outright, as a way to protect herself. she'd been doing this long before she met Ethan and then after...it was habit. and it was easy to keep things about her work secret because it did feel like she was protecting him. and it wasn't like it was going to be forever, she was planning on getting out. she was working on it. she hadn't even thought of something like that--a normal life--until she'd met Ethan, and then it had seemed like...like something attainable. there wouldn't be the need for secrets then, when it was just the two of them. (or so she told herself: it's like pulling off her skin, being that exposed, having nothing between herself and someone else. being seen. completely seen.) anyway this got away from me a bit lmao. but basically i like to try to reconcile her going back to lying post-re7 as a defensive move to protect herself, especially when the BSAA knows everything about her past. i don't think she was intentionally trying to hurt Ethan or anything, just that after Dulvey she'd feel ever more the need to have those secrets as a buffer, combined with a deep, deep fear that Ethan would hate her if he knew. (this is how i am personally smoothing down Mr. Capcom's writing decisions.) Jesse Evil West Headcanon: he has had a crush on Edgar since he was a kid and is outright tormented by it. i imagine him taking issue with how his dad treated Edgar. or feeling jealous of Edgar's loyalty to his dad. just let's give Jesse more issues regarding his dad lmao. the little joke he makes in the game about Edgar kissing him is a ""joke"" but like he is internally yelling UNLESS?????? as vehemently as he can.

thinking also about post-game events, how Bloom was joking around with Edgar and Jesse can absolutely get jealous about that too, like just he's a mess and i don't know if it's better (worse) if he has actually confessed to Edgar and was shot down or has just never confessed to Edgar for fear of getting shot down.

and if you want to bring in Jesse's twin (who is also named Jessie i guess we can just give him an extra vowel) i think it's very funny if both of them alternately fight over and tag team Edgar. co-op, as it were.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

It's here! A (somewhat) dramatic reading of the first chapter of Bound Blood. If you'd like to follow along to the original fanfic, you can find it here. Additionally, I have added a transcript for the opening + outro under the cut. Please enjoy!

Intro Transcript: Narrator, somewhat deep tone: Warning! This fic contains: canon-typical violence, harsh language unbefitting of small children, brie mentions of nudity, and what I can only assume will be piss poor imitations of canon characters. Listener discretion is advised.

Narrator, lighter tone: A quick reminder: This fic is not sponsered by SquareSpace, Naturebox, Nord VPN, nor Raid: Shadow Legends. Thank you for listening.

Narrator: Bound Blood, Chapter one: Sharing Is Not Caring

*intro music*

Outro Transcript:

Jordan (me!), not doing any voice: *clicks tongue* Well, alright, that brings us to the end of Bound Blood, chapter one. I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who {pause for brain loading} responded to the original fic when I posted it, ages ago. Everyone that left comments, or reblogged it

Jordan, cont.: This has been one of my favorite stories to write- {flustered, faster} and I know I haven't finished it yet! {chuckle} and I do feel pretty bad about that

Jordan, cont: Um, and I think about it all the time though. Um, {mic makes a noise}, it's, it's just one of my favorites, there's a lot of fun, zany dialogue or whatever, just unhinged maiden as, uh, as {pause, small laugh} Rufus (referring to @lepusrufus , who was very nice when I started writing this story} likes to call them.

Jordan, after a beat, realizing they misspoke: Um... okay, well technically 'unhinged maiden' usually {read: basically always} refers to Nicole, but we were talking about - back in the day - about just the idea of Cassandra with someone who's unhinged, feral, etc... um, and yeah, just one of my favorite characters to write, and it's so fun

Jordan, cont: and I know I'm not the best at doing voiceovers, voice acting, that sort of thing, um, and {amused} my recording setup is also not exactly professional. Uh, but it's been a lot of fun. I know I'm out of practice, but I, uh, hope it was nice to listen to, if anyone stuck around this long... you know, thanks!

Jordan, cont.: I hope you enjoyed! I don't know if I'll end up doing another one of these, uh, I'd like to at some point, for sure. Um, it is, uh, time consuming. {laughs}. Uh, but again, it's really fun, so... yeah, I hope you enjoyed, thanks for listening, and uh, if you want to support me, there are links in my masterlist on my blog. So, uh, yeah! I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of your day, and I will... perhaps see you next time.

Jordan, giving a shoutout: Also real quick wanna give a shoutout to @melthedwarf for being a lovable ray of sunshine and one of my most consistent supporters, you're great. {voice getting higher and faster} this is my voice, saying your name, woo-hoo!

END RECORDING.

[dietraumerei]

Weekly Writing and Reading Update

Hello, I am back from my lil weekend away which was absolutely divine, October vacations are the *best*. I just impulse-bought a pair of shoes and I have a cinnamon bun from my favorite place, life is good.

Also I have written...so much for Whumptober, and there is frankly so much still to come. I literally do not have enough time to write everything I want to, so it's gonna go into November this year, lol.

Writing

Oh lord, just scroll through my Whumptober Collection

A few notes for the coming week, and in general:

okay I really, really love posting the prompt answers as separate stories, thank you to that poster I reblogged a few weeks ago. This is so much easier and cleaner, and doesn't really take more time than adding chapters.

Lot of skip days coming up, just because there is one MONSTER GIANT story that has taken on a life of its own and which has become almost the only thing I write. I'll go back and fill in the gaps (that is, there will be 31 stories in the end, although I've remixed and reused a bunch of prompts), but this I *think* might be the week that kind of suffers the most from not getting a story a day. (Having just checked my schedule, uh, everyone gets a chance to catch up because the only thing definitely finished is for Wednesday!)

Assuming I finish the fucking thing, the giant story will be posted, probably, on Saturday. I am contemplating if I want to chop it up into chapters, and thinking yeah, probably, so at least there will be a lengthy reward for going without :)

I am having SO MUCH FUN. blorbos go cronch and then hug, truly the best storyline.

Reading

I finished Everything I Need I Get from You: How Fangirls Created the Internet as We Know It and have a lot of feelings! I think it's a really, really good book that's respectful of fans and interesting, but it focuses almost solely on One Direction fandom, and I kind of wish that was clearer from the title and the summary? Like, no shade to that being the topic, but it feels like this is being sold as kind of a universal look at online fandom, and...it kinda isn't?

(yes i'm salty there wasn't anything about snapewives, yes this was somewhat soothed by chapters dedicated to L*rr*es and B*byg*te, YES I am afraid of 1D fangirls.)

I also read Phoebe's Diary because I adore Phoebe Wahl and it was cool to read a middle-grade novel/graphic novel from her! (Most of the book is typeset, but there are lots of great little cartoons and drawings interspersed. I really, really liked it, although sometimes it's a little hard to read because a) it is very realistic which means it's like 95% about boys and boyfriends and that gets kind of old and b) it is very realistic and made me so unbelievably grateful that I never ever have to be 16 again. I would be extremely curious what a contemporary sixteen-year-old thought because it's kind of a semi-period piece (set in 2005-6) and a few bits of it sort of...haven't aged well from that period? (There's one character who I think we're meant to dislike but I love her so much because she reads aro-ace.) Anyway, I'm really glad I read it although at times it was painful, 10/10 do not miss being sixteen.