#OLD PEOPLE WILL BE A SMALL PERCENTAGE

[eyelessfaces]

I'll be the silence ringing through and through and through

santiago garcia x reader

summary: if santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind– it would have been possible, a few months ago. or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up. in short; santi wants you back.

warnings: mentions of a breakup but no reason is mentioned, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, exes to lovers, inevitable angst, fluff

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

happy new year!!!! randomly dropping a santi fic to start it right hhhh

fic title is from the song "heart to heart" by fiddlehead :)

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

If Santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind–

It would have been possible, a few months ago.

Or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up, and where he would be holding you by the waist and kissing your cheek instead of having to watch you from afar, scrutinizing every littlest movement of yours while he was slumped in Frankie’s couch, like an hermit, feeling helpless, the neck of his beer being the only thing to kiss his lips tonight.

Maybe it was just the alcohol, maybe everything would seem way less dramatic tomorrow, save for the hangover headache – but no, scratch that, he wasn’t even drunk, just barely tipsy, so no, tomorrow won’t be better.

It must be the sight of you laughing at another man’s joke then, probably.

Was he hitting on you? Was he just a friend, like Benny, Will and Frankie were to you? 

He shouldn’t care; that wasn’t his business, that wasn’t his problem. Not anymore. Not that he had been the kind to carefully observe your every movement any time you talked to another man back when you were together. He had never really been of that kind, he trusted you.

Except here, right now, it was his problem. For some reason, it felt like it was, and even more than before, when you were still together.

Because now that you didn’t love him anymore, there was nothing to stop you from doing anything with that man.

Would that man fill the hole Santi had left in your heart? Would he make you happier that Santi ever had? 

Probably. He was probably a good man, would be a good boyfriend, wouldn’t fuck everything up. Would probably even marry you, and he’d be damn right to.

“He’s gay” Will snorts, plopping down next to Santi, giving a small pat to his chest. Santi’s gaze finally departs from you to turn to his right, where his friend has settled next to him.

“Good to know, but I‘m not interested in him,” Santi jokes, looking down at his half full beer. Half empty.

“That, I know.” Will cocks his head to the side, a more serious expression over his face as he brings his beer to his mouth. Santi’s gaze darts back to you and that man talking, a sick feeling filling his stomach as he sees you smile and shake your head frantically just the way you used to when he would come up with a shitty joke. “I’m like, eighty three percent sure she’s still in love with you.” Will speaks again, nudging Santi’s knee with his own.

“Seventeen percent of what?” Santi chuckles, more convinced that the rest of that percentage is the most important part.

“Seventeen percent of, you still fucked up, man.” Will says, patting Santi’s knee before getting up from the couch, already. “I’m not good at math dude, but all I can tell you is, it’s worth trying again!” he declares over the music, pointing at Santi before disappearing through the crowd. 

Easier said than done.

Santi sighs, bites the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand over his few days old stubble. 

He had never had any issue talking to people with ease, but for some reason, the idea of talking to you tonight seemed like the most intimidating thing he ever had to do in his entire life.

But god, did he want to look at you in the eyes again. To have you make that focused frown whenever you were attentively listening to someone. To see the way your lips curled up into a smile when you could pre shot a joke, and the way you still pretended not to know what the punchline was, and still ended up laughing.

Santi smiles to himself, finishes his beer, and when he looks up, you’re not in the crowd anymore. Then Benny joins him when he goes to the kitchen for a refill, and you happen to slip out of his mind for the time being. 

—

The air is crisp, compared to the smothering heat inside. It tickles your cheeks, the tip of your ears, it hits every exposed area of skin, the sweat over it now feeling ice cold.

It’s all you needed and wanted, so you shouldn’t complain.

You walk back and forth along Frankie’s porch, the overwhelming feeling of the slight tipsiness and the fast beating of your heart simmering down, and you lean against the wall, taking a deep breath. 

You turn at the sound of the door opening beside you, the loud, previously muffled sound of the music now clear, ending up face to face with the one person you did your best to not go talk to all night long.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll go” Santi apologizes, still firmly holding the doorknob, starting to go back inside.

“No, no, it’s alright” you say, inviting him to stay with you. “I didn’t privatize the porch” you joke, giving him an awkward smile.

He chuckles as he tentatively steps outside, closing the door behind him, leaning his back against the wall beside you. Neither of you say a single word for a while, then he looks over at you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “I assumed you wouldn’t wanna see me.” he finally declares, making you scoff and shrug.

“I actually don’t mind,” you say, looking over at him. He’s now looking ahead, a small pinched smile over his lips. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before looking back at you.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“Fair enough, you are one.” you immediately sigh, looking away. His gaze is too heavy. “I loved you.” the knot inside your throat tightens only after you pronounce the words, thankfully.

He swallows hard, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not the cold air’s doing. He stares deeply at you, watching you doing your best not to look at him.

“I know.” 

The atmosphere hangs heavily as the awkwardness takes over. The silence lingers, punctuated only by the sounds of the night around you. 

He pushes himself away from the wall, taking a step closer and turning to look at you, forcing the both of you to truly establish eye contact for the first time tonight.

"I fucked up, I know," he admits, his voice low and filled with remorse. "But I never meant to hurt you." he shakes his head. “Ever.”

You blink, your gaze tearing from his. "You did anyway," you reply, your tone tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sadness. The memories of the pain he caused are still fresh, wounds not fully healed. 

He runs a hand over his stubble, a nervous habit you remember all too well. "I know I can't change anything that I did, but I want you to know that I'm sorry."

Your eyes meet his own again, searching for sincerity. "It doesn't fix everything," you say, your guard still up. 

He nods understandingly. "I just needed to tell you, and to let you know I haven't stopped thinking about you."

The vulnerability in his gaze begins to chip away at your defenses. Despite the hurt, a part of you softens. "Santi–”

He cuts you off– "I've been thinking, and you know I don’t do it often” he jokes, scoffing. “And I realized how much I lost when I let you go." 

A wave of internal conflict washes over you. Your past relationship is a heavy burden you’re carrying, and you’re not sure you should grant him your forgiveness, yet there's a glimmer of something in his eyes that translates his genuine desire for redemption, and there’s some part of you that craves everything you had with him.

“Please,” he starts, his gaze chasing yours as he softly holds onto your wrist. “Please give me a second chance”

His plea hangs in the air, and you can feel the sincerity in his touch. The warmth of his hand on your wrist is a rough contrast to the chill in the night air. You sigh, and look away, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of a different future. The silence stretches painfully, and you can hear the faint sounds of the night around you – a distant car passing by, the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

A shiver shakes through you, the brown of his eyes seeming deeper than usual, softer as he silently begs for you to say something.

“Second and last chance” you finally declare, refusing to give up on everything you’ve done to try to get over him, yet indulging in everything you’ve ever wanted since you’ve been apart. 

He nods silently, his hand leaving your wrist to settle at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Okay. Alright. I won’t need another one” he promises confidently, the frown over his face eventually softening. You smile as his thumb gently rubs over your now cold skin.

“Alright, but you gotta kiss me for it to take effect” you tease as you break the tense atmosphere, readjusting your position onto your feet and placing your hands at either side of his neck. His skin is warm, and you feel his muscles contract under your hands when he laughs.

“Good thing I’ve been wanting to do it all night long” he smirks before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, smiling as you sigh into the kiss. This is it; you feel complete again. 

He tastes of booze, and his light stubble slightly stinging when he moves are surprisingly pleasant. Your hand shifts to rest at the back of his neck, feeling his scar here, his own hands pulling you closer at the waist where he squeezes lightly when you run your other hand through his short hair.

You pull away only once it becomes necessary, the lack of oxygen making you all giddy though you’re not sure it’s just it. Santi is still holding you close as he presses his warm lips over your forehead, laughing when a shiver runs through your spine and makes you jolt. 

“Alright” he declares as he strips himself of his shirt, pulling it over your shoulders.

“You already pulled this trick on our first date” you scoff, looking over at him. A sly smirk grows over his face as you adjust the jacket over your shoulders.

“...And it worked, didn’t it?”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

triple frontier taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @alexxavicry @grxywindd @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @luxisluxurious @dowbastan

[lexischococoveredblueberries]

Can you make a veneer x reader where reader is supposedly assistant but actually a super famous model/popstar? Velvet and Veneer only realize that their assistant was no ordinary person, (Veneer notices it first) but a celebrity more popular than them (Velvet only realizes when they go to reader's concert that Veneer begged Velvet to go with him) :3 (also reader took the job because they wanted to try having "a normal job" for once and for the possibility of making friends with other popstars) and can we choose our stage names ourselves?

my first request, thank u!!! i love this plot omg…, absolutely >o<

F/S/N : first stage name

L/S/N : last stage name

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚

• falling for fame •

veneer x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .・。

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door to their dressing room and

dashed down the hall. you had just finished helping

Velvet and Veneer get un-ready from their

performance, which was absolutely spectacular.

every time you watch them perform you’re taken

away by how they control an audience and how their

aura beams across the room. being their assistant ,

you kind of have to say things like that for appeal, but

you really meant it 99% of the time.

the other the majority of that percentage was from

what you took by watching Venner, though.

whenever you watched him dance and sing and

seem so relaxed, you can’t help but feel the urge to

start moving too.

maybe he was your inspiration when you decided to become your own star.

now out of the building, you hurried down a small

trail behind the overly large structure which led to an

underground neighbourhood that was lightened up

by old bulbs hanging from trees and cheap

streetlights. this place didn’t really have any

meaning , well, of course until you showed up.

you had finally made it to another building , where

you dragged yourself to your own dressing room.

after running up many stairs, you let your huge work

tote bag down and started undressing, throwing your

robe on as you waited for someone.

knock knock

there she was.

“come in,” you called and the door opened. Georgia,

your own assistant , came through holding clothes in

her arms and lots of small bags. she smiles brightly

at you.

“oh, y/n, thank goodness. i almost thought you

ditched on all of us.” she jokes, putting the outfit

down on your mini sofa beside your vanity which you

sat at. Georgia was a sweet woman, who was a

mother to a small boy, Finn, you had met one or

twice. she was a dream assistant to anyone who

wanted one that didn’t bark or bitch.

“i would never abandon you, Gia. the siblings were

busy today, Velvet wanted extra touch ups and such.”

you explained while Georgia set up curling irons and

laid out makeup brushes. you seen her smile slyly at

you.

“oh, really? it wasn’t because you got caught up

staring holes in the back of her brothers head? huh,

how strange.” she teased you, and you fought back a

huge smile that threatened to take up your whole

face.

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you

murmur, trying to hide the embarrassment in your

voice, but obviously failing.

you sort of wished Veneer would show up, if only he

knew. you weren’t sure WHY he didn’t know,

Velvet either, considering you were popular enough

for plenty of people to know about.

you tried to shrug it off, but you still felt weird about

it. you guessed they had better things to worry

about, that wasn’t you.

( performance ref pictures for anyone that wants them, if not then imagine to your hearts content )

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚

Meanwhile…

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door, and Veneer bit the inside of his

cheek.

“i wonder where she goes after her shifts.” he

wonders out loud, crossing his arms. Velvet looks at

him like he said something out of pocket, and she

scoffed.

“hm, well, i don’t really give a shit. she can do what

she wants, can’t she?” she said in a snarky tone,

gathering her things together and throwing her now

free hair into a loose ponytail. you did an amazing job

with being able to get all of the product out of their

hair , and Veneer only noticed how flawless it was

now.

Velvet headed towards the door and looked back at

Veneer.

“i’m heading home, Ven. you following ?” she asked,

raising an eyebrow. Veneer was still staring at the

door from when you walked out, but he looked at

Velvet and smiled.

“yeah, eventually. go on, i’ll get a ride later.” he

replied. Velvet kind of gave a side eye to a fake

camera and shrugged. “mkay.. ciao.” she closed the

door on her way out.

Veneer waited a second. two. three.

he scrambled, threw on a pullover hoodie and bolted

out the door, following after you.

he panicked half the time, hoping that he looked like

a janitor on his way home from his shift , and frankly

he did. he followed you out of the building and down

the strange path that he didn’t even knew existed,

but he tried not to question it.

he made sure not to get too close , but also not too

far away, not because he was afraid of losing sight of

you, but also to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.

now he saw what he walked into, a beautiful

underground neighborhood that almost looked like a

child’s dream treehouse. he was so taken aback that

he lost sight of you and began to panic. you

vanished in thin air, and he almost turned around to

run. but then he started hearing music, from a stage

from the middle of the grounds.

“what…” he whispered. he began walking towards it.

it took him a few minutes to get there, and when he

did, loads of people started flooding the ground, and

he became afraid of people recognizing him. he

pulled the hood further up but made sure to keep his

eyes on the stage. but it just got worse from there.

he could’ve swore the ENTIRE neighborhood was

flooded with people; 3x the crowd that Veneer and

Velvet get. Veneer began to over think.

‘Vel wouldn’t be happy about this…’ he thought to

himself, and he was about to leave again, when all

the lights on stage went off. people began cheering

and screaming as the sound of footsteps tapped on

the stage. the lights came back on, and Veneer seen

a tall lady standing at the front of the stage in a suit

holding a microphone

“you’ve all been waiting long enough! please welcome our loved, F/S/N L/S/N to the stage!”

more cheering commenced and Veneer was getting

confused. he certainly didn’t know that name. that

was until the lady left the stage and someone else

took the lead behind her.

Veneer froze.

“oh my god.” he said out loud. you appeared at the

front of the stage, backup dancers behind you. you

posed with confidence and gazed the crowd like you

owned it. he stood and stared like that’s what he was

born to do.

it was a magnificent performance.

As much as he adored Velvet and everything

she did was better than what anyone else

could do, he couldn’t say the same thing

right now.

he gazed and was lost in a trance; at the

way you danced, sung like you were holding

in a voice of gold since you were born and

controlled the audience with every striking

belt. this was probably the best show

Veneer has ever seen, and his heart

squeezed, wondering how this girl he swore

he knew ended up being someone

completely different.

after your performance, Veneer felt as if something

apart of him bloomed. that was all he needed to see

to feel complete. his supposedly normal assistant

was actually a pop star that he casually never knew

about ?

he wanted to go see you. he wanted to run backstage

and ask a million questions, but he knew he couldn’t.

not right now. instead, he ran off somewhere where

people weren’t and pulled out his phone and dialled

Velvet. she picked up after a few rings.

“what Veneer.”

“hi sis, uhm, were you AWARE that y/n, our

ASSISTANT, is a pop star???”

there was silence.

“…what the hell are you talking about? also where are

you??”

“listen, vel, i….i followed y/n here. i was curious of

her outside life and i accidentally discovered that

she’s super famous , and i kid you not that she’s

almost as famous as WE ARE. i’m bringing you here

tomorrow.”

“uhm. sure.” she sounded unsure.

“okay. i’m coming home.” he hung up and looked at

the stage one last time before leaving.

the next day…

after a long day of Veneer struggling to hide the face

that he knew about your “secret” , the time finally

came for Veneer to bring Velvet to your show. he

stood anxiously in their dressing room, picking at his

hands and clearing his throat repetitively. Velvet

noticed this as she was packing her things.

“uhm, what’s up with that? you’re the one that

wanted to bring me to her in the first place.” she

questioned, putting a hand on her hip as she

examined her brothers anxious gestures.

Veneer looked at her and suddenly stopped, running

his fingers through his hair.

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. let’s go?”

he tried to change the conversation. Velvet would’ve

protested but she kind of wanted to get this over

with, but of course she had to throw in a remark.

“you like her.”

Veneers heart pumped furiously as the thought was

put in his head.

“no. well.. no! velvet.” he became embarrassed by her

comment and suddenly wanted to disappear. she

laughed.

“you’re really bad at hiding your feelings. i’m your

sister, i would know.” she smirked and opened the

door. “move it.”

he shook his head and went out the door, Velvet

closing it behind him.

Veneer guided his sister to the underground tunnel-

ish place and she grimaced with her voice.

“oh my god, it’s like, damp in here. ew.” she

complained, pulling at the sweater that she wore.

Veneer wasn’t really listening. he was eagerly looking

around, wondering if he would spot you out and

about, hoping to have a conversation before you

performed.

they made themselves to the pit of the arena,

ushering off to the side so people wouldn’t look at them.

“it’s off putting that no one has noticed us yet.

almost upsetting,” Velvet said.

“maybe it’s the fact we don’t have three tubs of gel in

our hair right now?” Veneer replied, not meaning to

sound like a hard-ass but coming off as it anyway.

Velvet scoffed. “shut it.”

that’s when the people started flooding in, and

Velvets face went shocked.

“holy shit,” she whispered , looking around

frantically.

“there’s no way this is for y/n. she has ten times more

people than we do! ugh!” she became upset and

veneer blew air in his cheeks.

“that’s..what i told you.” he whispered to himself and

looked to the stage.

when the hundreds of people finally stopped coming,

Veneer knew this was the time. he could barely wait.

he was basically shaking in his boots, eager to see

you. to see you dance and steal the shine of the

stars. he couldn’t help but see you as the moon.

then, the lights went off,and Veneer nearly shrieked.

he felt like a fanboy to his own assistant; and he

didn’t know how to feel about that.

the announcer came on again, and that’s when the

lights came back on and he could see you, there,

with a gorgeous outfit and stunning makeup that

made you seem intimidating. he could’ve cried at

how beautiful you were, his heart throbbed in his

chest as he just wanted to climb on stage and join

you; steal your own show but make you the main

attraction.

Veneer was getting caught up with his thoughts the

entire performance, and the look on his sister’s face

was priceless. he couldn’t really tell if it was jealousy,

admiration or a combination of both. but in this

moment, he didn’t care what she thought , all he

wanted to do was watch and admire you.

there was a split moment when you were near the

edge of the stage, singing effortlessly like you always

do, and made direct eye contact with veneer.

the whole world stopped for both of you. Veneer was

lost in your eyes, you were clueless of why he was

here, but that butterfly feeling started in the pit of

your chest. you kept singing , didn’t miss a single

word, and carried on.

Veneer felt his face flush as he continued to stare like

a fool.

after another ground breaking performance, the

applause roared across the entire plot and you gave a

bow, giving Veneer a final look and thanking

everyone in your mic. heading backstage , Veneer

held the urge to run back as well, but he looked to

Velvet.

she was already looking at him, and her expression

was…soft.

“go, Ven.” she said, motioning her head towards the

backstage entrance.

he smiled at her. “thank you vel.”

he ran to the backstage, being able to sneak past the

guards and past the red curtains.

he stopped to look around and saw you stepping off

the stage stairs. you looked at each other.

‘she’s so beautiful in the dark.’ he thought to

himself, walking towards you and your mouth parted.

“veneer,” you started, trying to get words out of your

mouth while shaking your head. “you..you knew?

how? you brought velvet ?? why…why?” so many

thoughts came blurting out and Veneer took your

hand.

“i always knew. i knew you pursued something,

you’re the type of girl to do that.” he looked at you

with kind eyes, and you swallowed with a dry mouth.

“i..” you stopped, taking a deep breath, looking away

and looking back. “thank you, for showing up. that meant more than you really know. i didn’t tell in fear of trying to out run you and Vel. i’m sorry,” you explained, a slight panic in your voice, but Veneer sealed your worries with a gentle kiss to your hand.

“let me support you y/n. i want this for both of us.”

his words had an effect on your heart and you smiled

warmly. you brought his and your hand to your heart.

“ yeah. just you and me. oh, well, Velvet too.” both of

you shared a laugh.

FLASH

a bright light came from the backstage entrance ,

and paparazzi and kid ritz stood there with shocked

expressions on their faces.

“oh.” you both said in unison.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦

a/n: AHHH IDK IF THIS WAS TOO LONG OR NOT IM CHARACTER FOR VENEER HELP 😞 i apologize if this sucks lol but i had fun making it 💗 tysm for the support lately i love all of you + my dms are always open if any of u need a friend ! requests are open always unless said otherwise <3

[likealotus]

A small percentage of people live to ninety years old. Most of them repeat one year for ninety years.

-Charles Chaplain

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi:

Lock Me Up | Intro/Part 1

In which his job is pretty clear on paper; find the witness, bring her in, write down what she saw and then let the witness protection program handle the rest. The only problem: You've got other plans.

Tags/Warnings: Detective Agust D my friends, Criminal Kitty!Reader, hybrid Yoongi, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of past abuse, strangers to enemies to I don't even know, sexual tension

Length: Long, 4k words

Next ->

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"So, just her then?" He asks, reading the files about his most recent case. "Double homicide, and she got away?" He wonders, as the young officer shrugs at the table.

"According to another witness, she saw her run out of the house we found the victims in, and she apparently got chased down the street- but a butcher downtown told a patrolling officer that she was fine the day after." He explains, making Yoongi sigh.

"Well, finding a cat in D-Town." The man takes the files for himself, grabbing his coat. "How hard can it be?"

Turns out, it's not that hard at all, considering the high percentage of hybrid population in D-Town.

He's walking into the small restaurant, most of the people eating and working being hybrids, immediately looking at him with suspicion as all conversation quiets down. He's used to it by now, most hybrids aware of what he is, his reputation amongst each and every one of them one of a traitor. "I'm searching for a female hybrid. Feline." Yoongi asks one of the servers behind the counter, cooks turning around to watch the detective. "Has a ID number tattooed into her left ear. 0713." He offers an image depicting you caught by the security camera of a small grocery shop nearby.

But much to his expectation, everyone shrugs, shakes their heads, won't tell him anything. It's a typical pack-mentality amongst hybrids- no matter what, they stick together against the human dominated police force.

"Alright, let's ask for your papers then. Mind me having a look at all the legal documents for your little establishment?" He melodically threatens, and it's clear that it makes the young server and her husband close by nervous, her eyes immediately looking at two young twin hybrids watching a cartoon on an old CRT-TV. "She's.. upstairs. She didn't do anything, she's a good girl-!" The woman begs, yells after the detective as he immediately makes his way up the stairs, only her husband holding her back.

The moment Yoongi opens the door to what he assumes might be a bedroom though, you're clearly there-

Jumping straight out of a window.

"Fuck.!" He calls out, running back downstairs to run after you, whole restaurant laughing and cheering for you as you dash away from the detective, heels clicking on the pavement as you run away. He has to admit that he's a little impressed by your ability to jump over obstacles and run so fast with those mary janes, though it's clear after a while that he's got the better stamina of the both of you. He's catching up to you.

But you're clearly already very knowledgeable in police chases, because you suddenly jump up against a wall of a small building, managing to somehow heave your entire body up the ledge to get onto the roof.

"So what now, huh?!" He calls out to you, breathing heavily just like you are. "One call and I've got the fucking thing surrounded. Just get down, I'm here- fuck.." He breathes for a second, before catching his composure again. "-I'm not here to arrest you."

"Hmm.. nah, I'm good." You simply answer, sitting close to the edge of the roof now.

"That wasn't a question." He calls out back up to you, one brow raised in annoyance. "Get down."

"No." You simply answer stubbornly, your tail swaying from left to right behind you, since you've moved to lay on your stomach instead, arms on the edge of the rooftop, chin resting on top of them.

"Alright. Hybrid 0713, you're under temporary arrest for suspicion of involvement in a double homicide case." He orders out to you. "Now get down here-"

"Does that ever work on anybody?" You ask after a moment of silence with an almost bored tone to your voice, face clearly showing genuine interest in the answer though.

He licks his lips, hands now in his pockets. "Not really if I'm honest." He shrugs honestly, making you giggle. "Come on now, I seriously only need you for questioning, I don't care about any other shit you've done."

"How about you buy me dinner first?" You ask, rolling over onto your back, now looking at him upside down, and he's unsure if you're aware of your cleavage ready to spill out of your dress, or if you're trying to put him under your spell.

With eyes as enchanting like yours, he could see it work if the setting was different. Wait- what the hell was he thinking?

"Are you serious?" He growls. "You're not in any place to make demands." He argues, and you shrug at that, before getting up to leave, moving out of sight. "Hey-!" He calls out, walking around the small shed you've climbed up on, unable to spot you. "I'm not getting paid enough for this shit.." He mumbles as he moves a trashcan closer to the side of the building, slowly climbing up onto the roof- to find nothing.

"I'll give it an eight out of ten, but only cause you've got a nice ass, Mister Detective-" You giggle behind him down on the floor, before you laugh. "See you later, Imposter!" You laugh as you run off-

leaving him sighing on the rooftop, questioning his life choices.

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Every day you're out there on your own, is a day where you run the chance of getting yourself killed. And while he's got no emotional connection to you at all, you're still an important witness to his case- so he's got to make sure he can avoid you biting the dust anytime soon.

He spots you near an old fountain that's now worked for years, but still holds water, back turned towards him. From the movement of your ears and the way your tail snaps upwards once, you've clearly notice him already though. "Don't worry-" You chuckle, moving around as he walks closer. "-Won't run off this time." You say, as he's finally close enough to see what you're doing.

The side of one of your legs is severely scratched up, from your ankle straight up to almost your thigh. You're using the water to wash off any dirt, shoes and socks neatly placed next to you. "What happened?" He asks, and you shrug, calmly cleaning yourself as he sits down next to you with a respectful distance.

"Tripped. Fell." You shrug, and it's clear to him that you're not telling him the whole story. Even so, he doesn't need to know it- the only thing he needs to know, is what you've seen the night of the murder.

"We'll get that looked at at the police station." He offers, standing up, and you grin impishly, leaning your head back to look at him above you. "What?"

"You gonna carry me, Mister Detective?" You ask, tail swishing from left to right in your amusement.

"First of all, stop calling me that, second of all, why would I do that?" He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I'm hurt!" You whine, turning around with your now wet legs, holding the scratched up one out towards him. "I can't walk." You say with big sparkling eyes, and he squints his own as an answer to them it feels like.

"It's just scratched, now dry off and put your shoes on." He demands, making you pout and cross your arms.

"No." You answer, and he has to take a deep breath to contain himself.

He's however, internally, a little confused at himself. Why does this whole thing amuse him so much? He's not so much angry or frustrated, but there's something entirely different brewing inside him. "Hm, that angry look doesn't work quite right with human eyes like that." You say, catching him off guard. "You'd have a way better chance without those fake lenses." You offer, and he doesn't react to it at all.

"Get up." He simply says, and you do so, limping on one foot. "Come on, drop the act now. I don't have all day for your games."

"We could already be on our way if you decided to be a gentleman, Mister Detective." You snap back, picking up your shoes and socks.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He bites at you, and you have the audacity to laugh.

"And I told you to carry me, but I guess we both won't get what we want today." You joke, before you're suddenly lifted up over his shoulder, one arm over the back of your knees to simultaneously keep your dress from lifting up by accident. "What are you doing!?" You stammer out now, and he can't help the smirk growing on his lips as he walks towards the police station.

"Being a gentleman, just like you wanted."

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"She definitely needs some sort of protection until we've found and arrested everyone involved." Another officer named Namjoon says. "She's already been targeted judging from her injuries. She's been lucky until now, but luck is a gamble. Until they've been prosecuted, we'll have to keep her under protective surveillance." Namjoon orders, before he looks at Yoongi.

"Absolutely fucking not." He immediately says, but it stays quiet.

There's no arguing with orders given, so he does ends up walking into the interrogation room, where he unlocks your handcuffs. "Oh, Mister Detective!" You perk up as you catch his scent, tail swatting into his face almost as he leans away from it. "Finally! I'm so hungry, I swear.." You whine, eagerly freeing your hands out of the cuffs before you get up, jumping on one leg as the other ankle had been put inside a brace since you've sprained it. "Can you carry me back to the restaurant downtown?" You wonder hopeful.

"You're not gonna go anywhere for a while." He tells you, moving your hair away from your neck. It's weird that the way his hands touch you makes you shiver a little- nervousness bubbling up inside you as he places the leather collar around your neck, something clicking in place in the back. "I'm legally required to inform you that you've been electronically tagged until you're no longer required to be. You'll be staying under both GPS surveillance and house arrest until the case has been officially closed or dropped, and the tag can be used at any given time to locate you or send out police enforcement to retrieve you in case it's deemed necessary. Did you understand everything I just said?" He asks, and you sigh, kicking out your feet stubbornly.

"…yeah.." You mumble with an attitude, pulling on the collar. "Can you loosen it a bit though? You're kind of choking me and I'm not really into that." You say, and he clicks his tongue.

"That's as much as I can do." He tells you after loosening it a little. "You'll get used to it."

"I guess." You snap with your eyes rolling, standing up. "So.. I'm gonna be locked up?" You ask, looking at him.

"You're just under house arrest, like I said." He shrugs. "Close monitoring is what they call it. I'll basically be forced to be your babysitter until the case is finished, but they'll let you stay at your own home unless decided otherwise." He explains, and you suddenly seem a lot more relieved about that.

"Alright I guess." You say, getting up to grab your shoes, still barefoot., before you lift up your arms towards him.

"What now." He asks with an emotionless face, hands in his pockets.

"I still can't walk." You say.

"You can hop around on that thing." He answers, turning around, before he opens the door- though you've sat back down on your chair, arms crossed.

"I don't wanna hop around." You simply say, looking at him challengingly. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek- and you just know, if he did have cat ears, they'd be full force airplane-mode right now to visualize his growing frustration with you.

And you love it- because he's so stuck up in being professional that there's no way he'd ever act on whatever the hell he's thinking inside his head. He's probably used to getting his way, a macho and alpha-male who's deep down so insecure about being seen as a proper male that he-

Suddenly your world is upside-down again as he carries you over his shoulder yet again, and you kick your legs out in denial. "Hey no, that's not fair-!" You whine, tail swatting into his face before he grabs a hold of it in the palm of the hand belonging to the arm holding your legs. "-Let me down you suit-wearing di-"

"Better watch your mouth, sugar, or I'll have to charge you with disorderly conduct." He tells you, and you huff in frustration to yourself as you shut up at that, hanging limply off his shoulder as he walks out of the police station with you like this.

"You think Detective Min is going to be able to handle this on his own?" A young police officer wonders to the leading detective Kim, who just chuckles in his office as he watches the scene unfold.

"Oh, I'm not worried about him whatsoever." He simply says, grinning amused.

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It's in the middle of the night, when the small monitor on his wrist begins to buzz, waking him him from his sleep. He's squinting his eyes painfully against the bright light of the small screen, before he realizes what he's reading.

[TAG ALERT: SUSPICIOUS MOVEMENT DETECTED]

He's instantly on his feet, rushing to put on clothes and shoes before he rushes out his door and onto the streets, where he checks the monitor to know where he needs to go. The tag alert itself isn't something he's surprised about- he's expected you to start wandering around even with your little issue- but you're moving way faster than you should be capable of, indicating that there might be something terribly wrong.

In front of the restaurant you've been living at, the mother with her twin children is already standing outside, pointing down the street with one of her toddlers in her arms, making Yoongi immediately run to where she'd directed him to. There's drag marks on the ground, alarming him further as he starts to smell your fear and panic- fueling his instincts to get to you before anything could happen.

"Let go you crack-smoking rodent-!" He can hear you yell, loud commotion coming from down the street behind a closed grocery store- and it's at least a sign to him that you're still very much alive and kicking.

"Fucking bitch just bit me-!" Someone yells out, as Yoongi rounds the corner, gun drawn.

"D-Town police, hands up where I can fucking see them!" He yells, causing everyone to move and dash off, no shot of his landing to keep them there.

"Nice aim there, Mister Detective." You huff on the ground, rubbing the back of your head. "Thought you guys are trained with those things.." You mumble to yourself, as he walks closer to inspect any damage done to you.

"I'll ignore that comment for now." He says as he checks up on you. "What happened?"

"Broke in, took me from my nest, dragged me here like a bag of rice." You explain, as he lifts your head by your chin, thumb wiping your bottom lip where some blood can be seen. You know he's only trying to figure out if you're hurt or if it's not your blood, but it still affects you considering you're not used to be touched like that.

But another thing you notice, is his eyes- his entire appearance, in fact, as you reach out to move your hand through his hair.

"Hey, stop that.!" He barks out, but you've already done what you wanted to do.

"Huh." You simply hum. "Been wondering if you had anything hidden on your head."

"There's nothing to hide there." He growls almost, standing up instantly before he lifts you up by the back of your shirt. "Now come on. We'll get some of your shit from your place, and then you'll stay with me. I'm not taking anymore chances with you." He orders, and surprisingly, you don't question it, and don't even ask to be carried around, simply hopping alongside him for a while as you make your way down the street.

It's quiet, most people asleep at this point in this part of town, when he sighs, turning towards you to pick you up.

"Come here." He mumbles quietly, tapping his shoulders as he turns around and leans down for you to get onto his back. You silently accept the offer, letting him piggyback you to your home where you stay, and pack a small bag of things you deem necessary for your stay with the detective. He watches quietly from the sidelines as you say goodbye to the young cat hybrids, when he's spoken to from the sides.

"She's a good girl." The husband of the mother tells him. "Just shaped by the circumstances, you know? You bite others or get bitten, as simple as that." He explains.

"I'm not arresting her." Yoongi explains, and the man shakes his head.

"No, no, I know you don't." He exclaims. "But I know you guys always think of us as some sort of criminal bunch that don't follow the rules just to spite you, and we're not." He simply explains. "Just- ah, what does it matter to you I guess.." The man shakes his head, before he walks inside, leading his wife and kids into the safety of the restaurant-

while you walk out of it, ready to be carried away.

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Back at his place, you still haven't really said anything- making him suspicious, as he sits on the edge of his bed, having put up a mattress for you to sleep on close to him in case anything happened at night. "Who were those guys?" He asks, and you shrug, pulling out a rather worn down blanket from your plastic bag.

"Don't know." You answer. "Probably with Takehiko, if I had to make a guess." You shrug, before you pull out one small flower shaped pillow to sleep on- the man mentioned, Takehiko, being the prime suspect of the double homicide. He's well known for selling tampered drugs on the streets of D-Town, as well as blackmailing hybrids by threatening to report them to authorities to be taken into shelters.

Yoongi wants to question if you're alright- if everything's okay with you, but he doesn't. It doesn't concern him, it's none of his business, and the less he gets himself involved with you-

the better it will be for the both of you in the end.

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"Mister Detective!" You call out, and he turns around from his desk to find you rolling around on his carpet on the floor. "I'm bored." You whine, and he sighs, turning back around. "Mister De-"

"I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I'm gonna fucking gag you.!" He growls, turning back around again.

"Kinky." You wiggle your ears, and he takes a deep breath before he crosses his arms. "I'm still bored though."

"Go read something then, I'm here to protect you, not entertain you." He mumbles, before it grows quiet. It makes him turn around to notice you staring into nothingness, before you move to curl up on your mattress instead. It makes him wonder if you're always this stubborn if you don't get your way- or if there's something else going on you're just not telling him.

Either way, he doesn't care, and shouldn't, so he continues working on things he usually doesn't have time for during his workdays, while he assumes you sleep.

"Do you have a tail?" You ask out of a sudden, making him choke on his sip of water as he almost spits it out, cough interrupting him for a good moment.

"What the fuck!" He snarls out, setting down his glass as he wipes his mouth.

"So is that a no?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No!" He says, grabbing tissues to wipe his desk down.

"No- no tail or no- yes tail-" You continue, but he cuts you off.

"No as in, none of your fucking business.!" He growls, clearly agitated at that question. "If your plan is to annoy the fuck out of me so someone else will supervise you, guess what, it's working great."

"Wasn't my intention, actually." You shrug, sitting up now. "Was just curious. You know- since you're clearly a cat too, but also not really. Confused me, that's all." You explain.

"Yeah well, you're not the first." He mumbles to himself, sitting back down at his desk.

"Does it confuse you too?" You ask, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, what the fuck does it take for you to shut up?" He asks, looking at you, and you just smile.

"An answer would be cool." You simply say. "Look, I knew a cat hybrid a few years back and he had a super short tail, but he was a really nice guy! Smoked a lot of weed, but still." You explain, and he leans back in his seat, arms crossed defensively. "So?" You ask.

"I don't have one." He tells you.

"Liar." You squint your eyes, ears tilted towards him. "It's short, isn't it?" You ask almost teasingly, and he looks away at that, giving you the answer needed. "Hey, that's totally alright though, no shame in it! Or.." You tilt your head. "Is that why you hate hybrids so much?"

"I don't hate hybrids." He scoffs, shaking his head at you.

"Yeah right, as if it's pure chance that you're known for putting hybrids into shelters left and right." You huff, crossing your arms as well now.

"It's because you belong there if you do not have a legal guardian or permit for independent living." He argues. "I'm only trying to help you out. A shelter provides you food, a place to sleep, education-" He tries to explain, but you're visibly becoming defensive now.

"Oh yeah and don't forget how they hit you with whatever they've got on hand just because you knock over a glass full of juice at the dinner table!" You hiss, annoyed that he's talking about shelters like they're as holy as a church. "Or how they lock you in the shower with ice cold water after you've pissed yourself out of fear as a kitten because everyone just keeps shouting at you-!" You angrily say, and his features remain without any emotion as he realizes you're not just making up examples you might've heard.

Considering the details and the way you tremble saying those things, it's clear to him that you're talking about your experience in a shelter.

"But what is it to you." You suddenly shrug. "You go continue cosplaying as a human I guess." You mumble, turning around to hide under your blanket again, silence engulfing the room for a moment or two, before he gets up and moves around. You don't know what he's doing, and you honestly don't want to know. You also don't know what you thought blurting your childhood trauma out like that would bring you as a result- but that's how you are, and have always been. Impulsive, wild, a little hyperactive and too honest most of the time.

Suddenly, he's close to you, and you hiss in pure pettiness at him, before you stop in your tracks, watching him.

His face is as stoic as ever, sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he wraps a blanket around you, tucking another one into places, and you're confused. "I- what're you doing?" You ask, and he scoffs to himself.

"You're the hybrid, I honestly got no clue how to do this shit." He mumbles, sighing in defeat as he sits back with crossed legs, letting his hands fall into his lap in defeat.

"But you're a hybrid too." You ask confused, though he shakes his head.

"I'm a freak, there's no need to try and sugarcoat it." He shrugs. "Neither here nor there. I don't know what it's like to be put through the shit you might've been, since I never lived life from your perspective-" He explains, "-and I don't know what it's like to be a human either, since you can only hide so much." The detective explains, watching how you correct his admittedly poor attempt at nesting for you.

It's clear to you that he's trying to apologize for his assumptions without actually having to apologize- the detective is a lot easier to read than he might think he is.

"Yeah, I mean you kind of suck at being both, I won't lie." You say, making him look at you with harmless offense. "What? Your nesting sucks ass, and those contact lenses you constantly wear creep me out." You jab at him. "But!" You bark out, leaning closer to him, catching him off guard a little. "Seeing as we're kind of stuck together, I can give you a rundown on being a hybrid!"

"And why exactly would I want that?" He asks you monotonously, and you roll your eyes.

"Because you clearly got some major identity-issues going on?" You tell him as if it's obvious. "And I also clearly can't magically turn you 100% human out of nowhere."

"I don't have Identity-issues-" He argues, while you look at him with an unconvinced gaze, arms crossed.

"Mid-life-crisis then?" You ask, "You do look pretty old.." You mumble at him.

"I'm not old!" He hisses, and you grin suddenly, ears in airplane-mode while your tail swishes from side to side in happiness. "What?" He asks annoyed again.

"Your teeth." You notice, and he instantly closes his mouth, lips pressed firmly together at having them called out like that. "And you're also not wearing those creepy lenses." You continue to point out, tilting your head to the side. "Handsome, I like it." You comment, and for some reason, that's what forces him to stand up and move away from you, all while you fall onto your back, laughing loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what you want to eat for dinner instead."

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[avelera]

"Nice is Different than Good" Character Interpretation: Hob Gadling as Kind of a Bastard

Ok, slightly controversial take on Hob Gadling Is Kind of a Bastard that I've been toying with. It runs counter to some wonderful let me be clear, amazing fanon I've seen in some fics, so this is much more me going, "Hey, here's a way to do it different that might work better in different stories fan writers might want to tell," and not to invalidate other takes or even to put forth that I think this is necessarily true of Hob in a meta sense, it's just shining a light on the text from a different direction, y'know?

Hob as Neutral Evil (credit to Winter on the big dreamling server for this concept!)

I'm obsessed with the idea that Hob is neutral evil on ye olde D&D alignment chart because it makes so much sense if the axis for evil is primarily based on selfishness.

Primary evidence? How casually he talks in 1489 about having done a bit of soldiering and banditry. Those jobs are about killing people. Maybe not all the time as a bandit, ideally, but even then it's about taking their stuff. There is absolutely zero remorse in Hob's tone about being a soldier and a bandit just because he's at his most wide-eyed innocent and has since picked up a trade.

Hob as Politically Conservative until at least 1789 but possibly until 1989

Hob as far as I can tell is a model of the white male middle class existence in England throughout what we define as more or less the "modern era". As far as I can tell, there's no indication at any point prior to 1789 that Hob rocked the boat or was at all out of step with the Powers That Be.

In general, I kind of see Hob as always just this side of the "wrong side of history" and I personally find it more interesting when that's where we find him. And not in a grand sense but in a "middle of the road" sense of just going along with the day to day accepted levels of harm and evil caused by societal momentum. Generally speaking, only a very small percentage of the population takes active part in moving the needle towards good at any given time on a variety causes, and I tend to see Hob is generally speaking outside of all those minorities of do-gooders, except when it comes to taking care of his immediate friends and family. Which is a pretty average place to be.

Indeed, when it comes to the Wat Tyler rebellion, it's my personal headcanon that Hob was more likely on the side of the soldiers putting DOWN the rebellion on behalf of the local lords, and unlikely to have been interested in or part of the cause of greater equality in England. The fact he's a soldier drinking with his mates openly in a tavern when people around him are talking about Wat Tyler and he's blithely ignoring the discussion is where I get that sense.

Indeed, I believe (though I don't know where to cite it, even in the English Civil Wars, Hob was canonically on the side of the monarchy. So jot that down as Hob being pro-monarchy.

While, yes, I believe post 1789 he learned to be less of a piece of shit about taking active part if horrific industrial-level cruelty, I don't see evidence he became a superhero after that. The one bit of "on the page"altruism we see from him is him flipping a coin to Lushing Lou and telling an obvious alcoholic to go get a drink so she stops pestering his friend by offering herself to him as a prostitute, something Hob seems entirely comfortable with.

In 1989 when Hob gets out of his sleek convertible, dressed like a stock trader, he uses the Financial Times to shield himself from the rain, a periodical that apparently was just lying around in his car. As tempting as it would be to say it's to somehow show off to Dream, he has no reason to believe Dream would come back to his car so more likely, it's just something for himself.

All of these put together show me on the page that Hob stayed pretty fixated on making money even after deciding and coming to regret being part of the "shipping business".

And to be clear, we don't actually know when Hob quit the shipping business. Personally, I like to think he did it right after Dream asked, but that's a romantic take and deliberately so. Hob having the opinion by 1889 that slavery is wrong is not necessarily a progressive take by then. Regardless, even if in 1789 he learned it was wrong, that still puts him just slightly ahead of the curve, philosophically speaking.

If we pull in comic canon we do know Hob was ahead of the curve on feminism by 1912 in Hob's Leviathan but again, women would get the right to vote by 1918/1928 in England after the issue had been discussed for at least a century (keep in mind, male Catholics couldn't vote in England until the early 1800s) so again this puts him as palatable to modern readers but not necessary terribly ahead of the curve.

Now, let me also be clear, where Hob is at in 2022 is anyone's guess. Personally I think Dream not showing up in 1989 was a second wakeup call for Hob. If he'd drifted back towards selfish hedonism by 1989, as his whole vibe suggests, he might very well have looked in the mirror and thought, "What if this is why my stranger stayed away?"

We know he becomes a teacher. That probably would go a long way towards changing his politics. We know he's a history teacher, so now he's got the long view. He's spending time in academia, which tends to lean left. My point is, Hob in 2022 is anyone guess and I think there's a lot of evidence and word of god evidence that he's become a Good Person by then, but I also think it's the 1989 meeting that jumpstarted him being Good and not just Nice. Because I do think Hob throughout all these periods of being morally a bastard was always good to the people close to him in his life. I think he was a good friend and a good husband and would have been a good friend to Dream had he allowed it. And that's what I enjoy most, that he could be both of those things, Nice and Not Good.

Hob as non-religious

I admit, this one is very near and dear to my heart for personal reasons of identifying as an atheist when it comes to Christianity and being a lifelong skeptic of Catholicism for the brief time I was technically a member of that organization (all of which while I was a minor). To be clear there is just as much evidence to say Hob is any number of religious alignments as there is that he has none. It's a totally personal choice by any author, I'm just outlining my evidence for why I write him as effectively an atheist.

The Black Death is considered the period that broke the spine of the Catholic church as a monolith in Europe. All the good priests who did their duty taking care of people and giving last rites died leaving only the ones who fled or were young, with tons of money given to the church because of all the rampant death.

Hob would have been born into an era that was particularly rife with both fanaticism and anti-church sentiment. There was a lot of evidence abounding that being a good Christian just got you killed.

Given Hob is a soldier drinking with his mates 1389, I don't see much evidence of him being particularly devout there. No less so in 1489, by the way. Not saying there's evidence against it, just that there's no evidence for it and indeed, societally there's justification for him to not be devout given the century he was born.

1589 I'd say we've got some evidence Hob isn't devout: he seems unperturbed by King Henry's ransacking of the monasteries. Politically speaking, if Hob is a New Man, he might have even benefited from that ransacking personally. In my personal view, Hob is an opportunist and most likely converted to Church of England at the earliest possible opportunity to curry favor with the Powers that Be. I don't personally see him as someone who would bother pretending to be Protestant while continuing to practice Catholicism, because:

Why would Hob bother to be faithful at all? He can't die. The #1 reason to be devout is to avoid Hell or get into Heaven. Hob has clearly chosen the secular world as the only Heaven he cares about. He says that his current life is what, "He once thought Heaven would be like" and it's a very secular vision of good food and safe streets. He does not appear to be pining at all for any spiritual version of Heaven and indeed, speaks of Heaven as a dream only in the past tense.

Personally, by 1689, I think Hob has plenty of reasons to hate God after what he's suffered and the fact he's still not interested in dying to me seems a pretty strong indication that he does not hold romantic views of the afterlife.

Finally, for 1789 to the present, there was absolutely a class of gentleman who were progress minded, obsessed with technology and the Age of Reason. Many American Founding Fathers were self-proclaimed deists, basically a safe form of atheism that said eh, yes God exists and is out there and we owe him some deference, but he doesn't impact day to day life and we can safely ignore him most of the time. Personally, and this is pure headcanon, I put Hob in that group cheerfully ignoring religion and never looking back because he's more interested in the new technologies of the day and not the crusty old church.

We also know, canonically, that at least in 1789, Hob does not consider himself Jewish.

And of course, we can't forget: Hob has evidence that the Christian cosmology is wrong, somehow, given his stranger and his own immortality.

Frankly, given that Hob appears on the page to be a hedonist with no fear of dying, it's interesting to speculate on what his moral boundaries would be at all coming from a world where Heaven and Hell were the primary means of moral social control. It is possible to speculate that Hob could have gone completely off the rails as far as worrying about his soul for a bit there, other than thinking he's already sold it, which could go either way as far as trying to redeem himself but again, he speaks casually of being a soldier and a bandit, so it doesn't sound like if he worried about his soul being sold already, he thought there was anything that could be done to redeem it.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

For those unaware, Burmese pythons have been a seriously destructive invasive species in the Florida Everglades for the past three decades thanks to a hurricane destroying a breeding facility. Other than the occasional big, old alligator, nothing eats them--but they eat everything. In some places, mammal species have been reduced to a tiny percentage of their former numbers--or have been extirpated entirely.

Because these snakes are so good at hiding, and they often populate the more remote areas of the Everglades, it's incredibly difficult to track them or determine how many of them are hiding there, though their impact is certainly obvious. Even people who spend time hunting the pythons only bring back a tiny fraction of the population; over 17,000 have been killed since 2000, and yet numbers are robust enough that native species have been eaten nearly to complete extermination. Both amateur and professional hunters are allowed to hunt Burmese pythons year-round anywhere on private land and in many public lands as well.

It was totally by accident that researchers came across a way to find these elusive animals. Opossums that had been fitted with radio collars for a separate study became victims of pythons, and the transmitters showed exactly where the snakes went after feeding. While some very large snakes were able to pass the collars when defecating, others retained them in their digestive systems. And as it turns out, the opossums were the perfect size for large female pythons mature enough to lay plenty of eggs. Every female removed from the ecosystem meant that many fewer being born in the future, putting at least a small dent in the population of invasive pythons.

Now there are plans to fit opossums and other mammals with simple tracking collars that are more likely to stay in a python's system even after digestion. Quicker response will mean more of them can be captured and euthanized. While it's not going to be the solution that gets rid of all of the Burmese pythons in Florida, every tool we have in controlling their numbers is a step forward.

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🔮 HECATE: Goddess of Magic, the Mist, Crossroads, Necromancy, the night and moon🌙

Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version!As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST] Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.

Out of the ‘minor’ gods, a child of Hecate is powerful and just as dangerous as a child of the major gods. As powerful as a child of Ares, Athena, and Apollo, but closer to a child of the Big Three. 

When you get claimed, a rolling mist rolls in and you feel power sparkling at your fingertips. You always have felt the magical power within you but with this claim, it courses through your veins. The spell you cast at your claim is a tell-tale to your half-siblings what kind of magic wielder you are. One time, there was a child of Hecate who summoned the dead beneath their feet and everyone had a meltdown thinking it was another child of Hades until Chiron pointed out the claim symbol belonged to Hecate, and Necromancy is within her domain. Which can be utterly terrifying or cool. Just don’t actually mess with Death itself and stay in your lane, unless you want either Hades or Thanatos having a word with you; either or both. Nico di Angelo becomes a common sight around the Hecate cabin as he acts as a sort of liaison for his father’s domain. 

Hecate’s domain is very broad and large, and you guys have a lot to figure out. Aside from magic, every child of Hecate has a mixed bag of what powers they inherited from Hecate’s domain. Some have others that others don’t. You have shared headaches with the children of Hermes, who are in a similar boat.

As cheesy as it might sound, your power is stronger at night and when the moon is out. Of course a full moon is when you’re at peak strength, but what people don’t know is that your powers can be at peak strength depending on the phases of the moon. This is determined by finding out what phase of the moon the day you were born on, and the phases leading up to that face you feel stronger but the phases afterwards feel less intense for you. If you were born on a full (and/or old) moon, well, more power to you. Literally. 

While not all common, there’s a high percentage of children of Hecate being born in the evenings and night. 

“With great power there must also come great responsibility” - Spiderman, Stan Lee. These words are similar to the Sword of Damocles, that Mr. D and Chiron tells you and the Hecate cabin that power cannot simply be enjoyed for its privileges alone, but necessarily makes its holders morally responsible for what they choose to do and what they fail to do with it. As a child of Hecate, with magic at your disposal, you have to work and study hard to control the magic and command it to your will, however it is a heavy burden to bear and magic can be not only bring miracles, but can take on a form of its own if their wielder isn’t convicted enough. 

Along with magic, the mist is your next inherent power. You help maintain the mist between the world of the gods and the mortal realm; maintaining the balance. The power of the mist comes naturally to you and you can use it to create illusions or manipulate the veil over mortal eyes. However, be careful of it because if you mess with the mist too much, you might pull the mist’s veil over a mortal’s eyes too powerfully and affect their mind, distorting it; it’s cautioned to only manipulate the mist that is still tethered to reality. Worse, you also might get lost in it yourself; or worse find yourself between the borders between the living and the dead. Limbo if you will.

Hecate may seem a bit cold and solitary, but she does care for you. Especially after the 2nd Titan War, where many of your unclaimed (read: unrecognized by the camp) half siblings had perished during the war. You might get the occasional words of advice with magic, magical items, or what your siblings have collectively understood as vague magic teaching moments. You definitely feel her guiding hand when you command more magic that threatens to lash out at you, and you feel her hands guide you to mould the magic in a way you want like a potter’s hand.  At least one thing is for sure, Hecate loves all her children equally…even including Lamia and Circe who are pretty hostile to you guys. 

On that note, you have definitely performed a magic spell you’ve seen on TV, Book, Movie, or Game, and proceeded to tear it apart on how it should not have worked and how it should work before creating either an entirely new spell or an even better one. At the very least, you have a laugh and lead you into discovering and creating new spells. 

You can use magic with your hands, but you could also use a wand or staff, or what have you. With wands though, it has never been easier walking around among mortals and spell-casting magic, and playing it off from certain franchises or being a very dedicated DnD player. The latter is very true and you have no shortage of LARPers.

You know the roles like “The Fairy Godmother”, “The Wicked Witch”, “The Wizard”, and etc? Oh yeah. Every child of Hecate starts to come into one of these roles and leans into it completely. What is yours? 

You and your siblings have an awkward relationship with Lamia, who was a former daughter of Hecate, who became a monster, and is the reason why all monsters can find half-bloods. Sure it was out of spite at Hera for killing all of Lamia’s children, but like….really?  You’re not entirely sure if you guys are safe from Lamia’s curse but on the other hand, given the amount of monsters you’ve encountered and the latest news from one of your half-siblings, Alabaster who was hunted down by Lamia from Gaea, it’s really up in the air. There’s a long research by all the Hecate cabin on how to break this curse or at least mitigate it.

When you get claimed, you feel the veins in your body growing both hot and cold, with power sparking wildly from your fingertips. The small well of bubbling power that had always been in you suddenly burst open and was overflowing, like the seal on it had been ripped off. Wind was kicking around you with the ground trembling and cracking under your power. You could see the mist rolling in and twisting around you with the wind, cutting you off from the outside world. 

With what you could see outside it was utter chaos. People were running around doing damage control with a few brave, offensive demigods taking the front as they knocked away any flying debris and were keeping your magic from breaching the red zone as they batten down the hatches. 

You weren’t sure what to do with this power but you couldn’t just turn the tap off either, you had to release it somehow. But just shooting raw magical power wasn’t desirable since the magic could take on the form of the cognitive power of those around you, whatever that was. 

You tried to remember a spell you were familiar with. Something that was familiar to you that was almost as easy as breathing. You remembered it but the power of the magic within you was too much. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, the extension part of you had to move how you want like you were discovering growth pains, your limbs feeling almost feeling foreign to you. You tried to squeeze the magic into form but it pushed back between the gaps of your fingers like you took too much clay. 

You started to breathe heavily as sweat clung and soaked your being, the strain becoming unbearable. Then you heard yelling as you felt something open beside you. Then you felt someone press up against you, hands grabbing yours that was also flowing with magic. 

You gasped and looked at the person, seeing a girl with dark hair and with glowing green eyes. 

“What-” you tried to say to say how and why she was here and that she shouldn’t be, but then before you could see anything more, she gripped your hands harder and you felt her magic flowing into yours, as if smoothing the gaps, helping you grasp your raging power. 

“Do you know a spell?!” she yelled over the raging, howling wind. 

You stammered to reply but nodded instead as she nodded back. “Alright! Use that spell! I’ll help you enforce it!” 

You were confused but you could feel the magic about to explode soon so you pushed everything aside and focused on what was at hand. You remembered that spell from earlier, taking deep shaky breaths as you tried to manipulate the magic into a form. You could feel it oozing from the gaps of your fingers again but with the girl’s help, she smoothed it and followed your hands, shaping it with you. 

You took form and you threw it in the air as the energy took on a form, taking the wind and mist with it. All tension in your body left you and disappeared with the spell , making you collapse immediately. You were out of breath and out of focus so you weren’t really paying attention to what was happening. All you heard was a boom, sprinkles, oohs and ahhs with gasps and peals of laughter. 

From your starfished position on the ground, you heard feet crunching on the ground beside you and you peaked to see see the girl from earlier, hands on her hips with an exasperated smile on her face with a thin sheen of sweat; even she looked a bit winded. 

“So that’s what kind of magic wielder you are” she commented, crouching beside you. 

“What?” you tiredly said, confused. 

She gestured to the air, “This kind of situation isn’t unusual for children of Hecate, even if yours is a little bit on the extreme side. Every child of Hecate that gets claimed has a spell that they have to unleash and we figured out the first spell they instinctively use is a good indicator what kind of magic wielder and person they are.”

“Oh” you uttered dumbly as you took in the open sky above you. The adrenaline was just dying down and your mind caught up. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you sat up and looked at the girl. “Wait, how do you know this?”

The girl grinned and stood up, holding her hand out to you as you clasped it. “My name is Lou Ellen Blackstone, daughter, head coven, and cabin leader of the Hecate cabin” she introduced herself as she helped you up. 

“Oh…wait, does that mean-” you asked as Lou Ellen nodded.

“Yup, you just got claimed by Hecate which makes us half-siblings” she said as she patted your shoulder and helped you steady yourself as you headed towards the Apollo kids, “Let’s get you checked up just in case. Suddenly being able to have that much access to your magic takes a whole lot of you.”

“So this isn’t new?” you asked as a child of Apollo checked you over. 

“Nah. While some children of Hecate can access their magic before they get claimed, when Hecate claims you, it suddenly feels like the cap on our magic is removed. Don’t worry too much about it, with some practice and integrity, you’ll get a hold of your magic soon enough. In the meantime, you have the entire Hecate cabin to help you.”

You smiled at the thought as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep due to the exhaustion. 

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - a heroes spirit

I have a request for Aizawa if that's alright. Maybe where R is a vigilante that's been running around the city taking down criminal organization's or something like that and Aizawa is sent after them to find out why they are doing this so maybe it ends in a fight and he has to use his quirk to stop R? So when the R tells why they are doing this is maybe revenge for a close family member that died? - Anon💜

Running down the street, you took a sharp turn, sliding into the crowd of people, weaving in and out of them all as the hero that was chasing you tried to grab you.

You knew Hawks was above you relaying your every move to them as well, so you had to get somewhere he wasn’t going to be able to follow, and you had to be quick about it.

Eyes searching around, saw the mall nearby and ran straight towards there, if you could get in there, you could loose them all in some shops, so that’s what you did.

You stepped aside as you ran, and you pulled your hood up a little tighter, diving into an even larger crowd, then following a group into a shop.

You hung about in there for a while, looking around, and you found a different jacket from yours, so you walked over to the cashier, handing over cash for the jacket.

“Keep the change, is there a changing room?”

“Uh… no, I’m sorry.”

You nodded your head, and you looked out the entrance where a few heroes were looking for you in all the shops.

“Is there a restroom I could use?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to but I guess since you’ve already brought the jacket, yeah. Here.”

The boy led you to the back, and opened the door for you, letting you slip inside where you hung above for a minute, changing your jacket.

You finally came out, having left your old jacket hidden behind a couple of boxes in there, and you bowed your head to the boy before leaving.

Slipping back out into the public you slowly walked around this time, only stopped when Best Jeanist approached.

“Excuse me, have you see this person running around?”

He showed you his phone, showing you a photo they’d managed to get off you a few days prior, but they couldn’t see your face.

“No sir, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, thank you.”

He asked another group who looked at the photo.

“Hey it’s the vigilante that’s all over the news. I don’t get why you can’t leave them be, they’re hunting villains, saving people. Basically a hero.” The man said.

You huffed quietly as you carried on walking.

This was the problem with people, while the majority view you as some sort of heroes because you were wiping out villains, a small percentage of the population saw you as a villain.

You didn’t want to be called either.

You never actually killed the villains you went after, you simply rendered them unconscious, dragging them to the nearest hero or police station.

When you took down a whole organisation you would call the heroes and police to your location when you were done.

You made your way back home, aiming to get some sleep before you went out again, but you only managed to get a couple of hours.

Getting showered, you changed into a different jacket, putting on a disposable face mask and made your way out of your apartment.

You kept to alleyways, lingering in the know that’s where a villain would most likely show up, but you also kept an ear out for any trouble.

“Tracker, put your hands up.”

You paused, slowly turning around to face the hero who was stood at the end of the alley.

You didn’t recognise him, but you did recognise his voice from the radio and when you tried to bring out your claws you noticed that you couldn’t, and you frowned heavily.

“I have no business with heroes.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you became a vigilante.”

His scarf surged forward, and you barely dodged it, but you noticed you could bring out your claws, so his quirk must be to take yours, but there was a limit.

Digging your claws into the building, you hauled yourself up onto the fire escape, running up the stairs.

“Stop!”

He chased after you, his scarf grabbing your leg and tripping you, rolling over you swiped at it, cutting your leg free.

Standing up you turned to look at him and he charged, aiming to hit you and you deflected him with your arm.

You ducked under him, turning around to keep an eye on him.

You had to do something about him if you wanted to get free, but he wasn’t a villain.

He seemed to notice your hesitation to hit him back, and you blocked his attack you kept your hands away from him.

Your claws shimmered, as if they were coated in something, and they didn’t know if the poison you were using to temporarily paralyse the villains was on a weapon or if it was your quirk.

Now he realised it was your quirk, so he had to wait for the right time to erase it.

You grabbed his arm as he lunged for you again, and you threw him behind you, not realising how close you were to the edge.

When you saw him tumbling to the edge you dived forward, grabbing his arm, bracing your hand against the ledge, digging your claws into the side.

With your help, he got back up, and while he was climbing up he erased your quirk, trapping you with his scarf.

You did try for a minute to get out, but even with your quirk you were stuck, your hands were unable to reach, and you sighed heavily, sitting down on the ground.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“You didn’t know who you were fighting but you still rushed to help me?”

You gave a small shrug.

“I know you’re not a villain, a villain wouldn’t have told me to put my hands up. I’ve seen you a few times with the other heroes.”

He studied you, crouching down, resting his arms on his knees.

“Eraser head. I’ve been sent to ask you some questions and bring you down to the station.”

“Ah, Aizawa. I’ve seen you on the news recently talking about your students.”

“You keep up to date with everything, don’t you?”

You nodded your head.

“What’s your quirk?”

You refused to answer this one.

“What’s your name?”

Again, this was a question that you chose to ignore.

“Why’re you taking down villains?”

“Because they took my brother from me.”

Aizawa wasn’t expecting you to answer this question to either, so he was slightly shocked when you did without hesitation.

“Who?”

“Some low level thug, got him from behind and used him as a hostage, hurt him really badly and the heroes tried to help him but he never made it.”

Aizawa slowly nodded his head.

“Is that why you don’t attack heroes?”

“You’re doing the same thing I am, you just have more rules to go about when doing it.”

“You’re a criminal too you know.”

“Am I? I never attacked first, you know that. Which means technically I was acting in self defence, I’ve not actually broken any laws, you know that.”

“You attacked me.”

“I never actually laid a hand on you, therefore I never attacked you.”

Aizawa sighed heavily because he knew you were right, they’d take you down the the station and the most that’ll happen is a reprimand for you using your quirk without the correct forms.

They’d seen the footage of your fights, and you always waited to be attacked first before attacking, instead you settled for taunting the villains into attacking you.

You’d spent a lot of time researching all of this, even if they did decide to take you to court, the trail wouldn’t be a long one, maybe a small amount of time in prison at most.

You sighed softly.

“I’m not a bad person eraser head, I’ve never once hurt somebody who didn’t deserve it. I’ve never raised my hands to a hero or civilian.”

Aizawa placed his hands on his knees, pushing himself up so he could stand.

“You’re using your quirk when you shouldn’t be, if you wanted to take down villains you should’ve become a hero.”

“I tried.”

He looked down at you.

“I tried to be a hero once, before my brother died, but I wasn’t good enough. I have my claws and my poison, that’s it. I didn’t have the speed or the strength or the flashy quirk. I’m just an ordinary person who has a small amount of power. That’s it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have a right to become a vigilante.”

“What would you do if your only family was killed?”

“Leave it to the heroes.”

You scoffed a little bit, looking away from him.

“Yeah, it’s easy to say that until it happens. Then you’re left wondering maybe if you were stronger or faster could you have protected them.”

“You were there?”

You slowly nodded your head.

“I watched my brother die in the arms of a hero.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I should’ve been better…”

Aizawa could tell you had a lot of self hatred, you hated yourself for what happened, you hated the villains for what happened as well.

You didn’t blame the heroes, you knew they had tired their best to help and save your brother, instead you burdened the blame of your brothers death for who knows how long.

In a way he understood, he burdened that same kind of pain, but it didn’t mean he could let you justify your actions.

If you really were a villain yourself you’d be trying to break free, cursing heroes, trying to hurt him, but you weren’t.

Even knowing he could manipulate his scarf and that he would’ve been fine when he fell, you still ran back to help him.

You had all the makings to have been an amazing hero, and yet you took a different route.

He looked at his phone as it buzzed, then he looked back to you.

“Maybe you can get your chance.” He said.

You looked up at him.

“They’re offering an alternative, if you were to pass the heroes exam, you could become a hero.”

“They’re listening?”

He nodded his head, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“Well Tracker? The choice is yours.”

You didn’t reply to him and he sighed heavily, walking back over, crouching in front of you.

“I don’t condone what you’ve been doing, frankly I think it’s stupid as hell. But, you’ve got the makings to be a hero, you always had, that need to protect people, the desire to justice. You’ve just been going about it the wrong way. The hero commission want you to fight with us, help us keep the streets save, and save people like your brother.”

“I’d never pass the heroes exam anyways.”

“If a group of teenagers can pass so can you.”

You looked away from him.

“Why do you care? I’m just another unruly quirk user, right?”

He shrugged a little bit.

“Your choice, but no matter what you choose they’re not going to give up, they will ask you again.”

You sighed heavily, looking at the other heroes that were standing on the roof opposite you, just waiting for you to make a move.

“You can be a hero, in your brother’s name.” He said quietly.

You turned back to the pro hero, slowly nodding your head.

“Okay.”

He stood up, pulling his phone out of his pocket, walking away while he made a phone call before coming back a few minutes later, holding up some cuffs.

“Just a precaution.”

He cuffed you then released you from the scarf you were trapped in.

You didn’t want to stop fighting, so if being chained down by the rules that heroes followed meant that you could keep fighting then that’s what you would do.

You didn’t care what rules you had to follow, you wanted justice for everybody who couldn’t get it themselves, you wanted this world to be a better place

[griffonsgrove]

Haiii!! These headcanons have been amazing!!! Could I perhaps ask for a Dr.Flug X Reader where they're a famous popstar, please?? tysm!! <3

Dr. Flug X Popstar!Reader

a/n: eeee of course I can write this!! This is a really cute idea, I hope you enjoy!! Im working my way through a few of your guy's requests so bare with me! I plan on maybe doing a few drabbles or headcanons for some other fandoms within the following days so keep a look out for that!

fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1026 cw: none! just super cute fluff!

(PLATONIC):

Now that you were starting to gain more and more popularity amongst people, you had been wanting to expand your musical talent to all reaches of life, whether it be good or bad.

Being a famous popstar made it easy to get connections, thankfully, and a little birdie had told you about the infamous ‘Hat Island” that was rumored to be crawling with villains, owned by none other ‘Lord Black Hat’ himself.

You were by no means a saint, let alone a hero, and thought that everyone deserved to have the joy of music, even those of lower status. So what do you do? Schedule a meeting with the most feared villain known to man!

Imagine Flug's surprise when he opens the door to see you standing there.

The man about damn near faints on the spot. A famous super-star, standing right in front of him? AND they're cute?? Oh boy.

He had heard of you when Demencia would loudly blast her music from her boombox, Obnoxious yes, but he would absentmindedly find himself humming your tunes or tapping his foot to the beat while he worked in the lab, much to his dismay.

Eventually that led to him listening to you in his (very little) free time, and he, actually?? Enjoyed?? It??

Now, the tricky part was going to be trying to convince Black Hat to let you hold a concert on his island, This old man  intimidated tf out of you, if looks could kill you’d be dead before you even stepped into his office. But, you tried to remain confident.

You offer to pay him for compensation, and give him a small percentage of the profits from your show. How can he refuse that offer? It’s money! He reluctantly agrees to your proposition, and you sign a temporary contract.

For extra gratitude you offer him and his henchman VIP tickets for your show, Black Hat scowls, saying something along the lines of “that frivolous techno music gives me a headache..” But! He doesn't deny his henchmen going!

Of course you don't leave without the eldritch putting the fear of god into you.

Demencia vigorously shakes Flug in excitement, when she finds out they have VIP tickets to your performance, for once the doctor’s eyes light up.

The night of your performance happened to be one of his best memories, he was absolutely enthralled by your singing, and he got to witness all up close!

When he comes backstage to meet you after the show he nearly faints again. You thought he was kind of cute for that really.

You excitedly greet him and his group and chat for a while. Answering questions and sharing stories, you actually find out the two of you have a lot in common! As the evening wraps up you pull him aside privately to give him your number, if he ever wanted to chat. HE NEARLY FAINTS AGAIN.

(ROMANTIC):

That’s how you two began talking. You texted frequently, excitedly sharing each other's interests. Sometimes you’d snap a photo before or after a performance, and he’d send you pictures of his latest invention, or his model airplane collection.

It’s actually you, that ends up asking him out on a date. Through a video call, his reaction was adorable, he looked almost in disbelief but dumbly nodded his head to your confession.

The both of you lead busy lives, so you carefully plan out when you can visit and when he can get the time off. (He sucks up to Black Hat for an entire week).

You settle on something quiet and not far away, you didn’t want to be bombarded by fans or paparazzi during your small visit. It’s at a small cafe, Flug claimed it made the best coffee he’s ever had.

He watches all of your shows btw. Man’s is committed. Whether that be streaming the concert on his phone while he works or going to your shows/events in person whenever you visit the island again. It’s also a plus that he enjoys your music!

You singing to him, ouGHHHH. He’s starstruck every time, entranced by your voice. He really thinks of you as an angel, maybe a siren.

Love songs!! You write several dedicated to him while your dating, he nearly cries when you reveal this to him. Who am I kidding? He totally cried.

He makes you cute little gadgets to make your life a little easier. Like a custom-made microphone for your shows, you use it every time <3.

You SPOIL him. You get that bag (pun intended) and you think he deserves to be treated with everything he could possibly want.

If you ever meet 5.0.5 you best believe you’re treating that bear like your own son. He’s such a sweetie, how could you not? And if you sing him little lullabies to help him fall asleep?? Flug’s heart almost bursts out of his chest. How did he get so lucky??

He often wonders how he bagged you (pun intended). He's pretty insecure of himself already, it really is a mystery to him. He almost feels like he doesn't deserve any of it at all. But of course, you see right through his act, and reassure him endlessly.

You both keep the relationship on the downlow, mainly for your sake. He didn't want your reputation to be ruined if the press found out you were dating a notorious supervillain. You had told him you didn't care what the public thought, but he insisted.

There are numerous photos of you on his phone, not in a creepy way though. Most of them are selfies of two of you, or from photoshoots/concerts. He def has you as his screensaver.

You loooove peppering his bagged face with kisses. He gets so flustered it's adorable!! He secretly loves them. If you wear lipstick, you love seeing the aftermath of your kiss attack, his face painted in a lovely shade of red.

Overall, being in a long-distance relationship definitely has its ups and downs, but Flug thinks it’s all worth it, especially for you, he’s willing to give it a try. How romantic.

[strangerquinns]

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 19

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.3k+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist

** warning: chapter contains smut. mdni, thank you***

“They are camped out at the old Star Court Mall,” Enzo explained while his fingers moved across the map in front of him, circling an area toward the north. “A few of them stayed back and watched as the rest of the group filtered from Redding, which is only fifteen miles northeast. Seems they were like us and looting for supplies.”

You nervously bit on your nails as you listened to the man talk, noticing the slight hint of accent the more he spoke. Russian? Maybe. The cafeteria had been turning into a headquarters ever since Hopper broke the news to the rest of the camp of his plans. The majority agreed with what he planned; a small percentage disagreed. In the last few days, more runs were being taken with the need for supplies. Smaller groups so to be discreet in case they were to come across the radical group.

“That’s a risk to take on that large of a building,” Hopper spoke, his thick brows pulled tightly together with a pensive look.

“Flayed aren’t really out that way, too far North.” Enzo spoke “Not enough…resources.”

“This group is going to draw more this way,” Steve spoke up. “They brought a pack in with them in Redding.”

“Multiple packs.” You spoke, causing a few of the heads to snap toward you. “It’s like feeding off the chaos, the thrill of picking the Flayed off one by one as they moved through.”

“These people sound like monsters.” Joyce Byers spoke from the seat to the left of Hopper.

“That would be a good description.” You nodded, your teeth biting at the nails and sore skin around them.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Hopper spoke, grabbing the mug he’d been sipping on all day, “Let’s regroup in the morning. I’m sure we all could use a break.”

One by one people began to spill out of the room, small groups of people talking amongst themselves and lingering behind. Eddie walked across the room toward you and quickly wrapped an arm around you, pulling you tightly against his side.

You leaned into him and sighed softly with your arms wrapping around him as well. The two of you just stood there for a moment in silence before Eddie pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt the calloused touch of his thumb against your cheek as your eyes closed gently. His touch - it was a soft relief to the worry that was clouding your brain.

“You want to get out of here?” Eddie spoke gently causing you to open your eyes slowly. His dark eyes were focused solely on you. Eddie was so close you were able to nearly count the freckles that danced across his face.

“Where would we go?” You questioned with your brows pulling together with slight confusion. “Not many places for us to go.”

“Leave base for a little bit. Not too far, but enough for us to clear our heads…have some alone time.” Eddie shrugged. “Think the both of us need it?”

“Ok,” You nodded before he stepped back and threaded his fingers with yours.

The two of you slipped out of the room quickly with the last few before leaving out of the main building. Many of the others returned to their normal work and routine. The camp was buzzing as people prepared for the colder months that were quickly approaching. It seemed every morning was colder than the last and fewer trees had leaves on them. You and Eddie stopped at his trailer for a few things before leaving out of the main gate. Your fingers brushed against the knife you kept sheathed to your waist as you quietly ventured through the woods.

The forest surrounding the Lab was quiet in a serene sort of way. But with the two of you still staying vigilant. It felt nice to be away from the noise of the Camp. Of not feeling the eyes of others on you as you moved about.

It wasn’t long till the two of you hit a residential street. Small cabins and homes are dilapidated and crumbling along a pebbled road. A few mailboxes were rusted with the faint memory of numbers and words along the sides. It was a shell of what it once was with time frozen. Cars still parked in driveways with people's items scattered across the lawns with broken glass.

“It’s a ghost town,” You spoke as you walked beside Eddie, your eyes moving from one side of the street to another.

“Yeah,” He sighed heavily “It’s weird, over time it’s like we’re not able to recognize what was anymore. Spent our entire lives in this town…and some places…just…gone.”

“You go through the town a lot?” You asked.

“Sometimes, we have to go in and clear out the Flayed that stumble out from the city, or wherever else the fuck they come from.” Eddie shrugged. “It gets harder with each trip. Seeing it all just die away.”

“Well, where are you taking me?” You asked, reaching over, and grasping his hand.

Eddie smirked slightly and gave your hand a squeeze, “You’ll see.”

He tugged on your arm slightly and pulled you down along the road a little more, the two of you picking up the pace the farther you got. When the two of you turned down another street, and you saw the white house pushed back into the woods with the boat house behind it, you quickly realized where the two of you were.

“Holy shit.” You gasped and stopped short in front of the house, Eddie laughing slightly as you stared at the moss and vine-covered home. “How the fuck…how did…”

“I was as shocked as you, sweetheart,” Eddie spoke before moving toward the front porch. “You comin’?”

You hesitated for a moment as you looked around the surrounding area, hearing the creak of the wood beneath Eddie’s feet and hesitating for a moment. A rush of memories came at you as you stared at the small home. It was like the ruin it had fallen into wasted away and instead, the version you remember was before you. Along with the sounds of heavy metal music and the heavy smell of weed.

“It going to be safe for us to be in there?” You questioned, your eyes darting toward the warped wood Eddie stood on.

“I was here not that long ago,” Eddie spoke, reaching up to move his curls from his face. “Actually, was here right before you found us.”

That was nearly over a month ago easily. It was odd to think of how much time had passed.

You crossed the front lawn and onto the porch with Eddie, crowding behind him quickly as he pulled open the front door. You didn’t miss it as Eddie grabbed his knife and slowly walked into the home. You stayed close behind as he did a quick sweep of the small home.

Reefer Rick's place was small to where you could stand at the front door and see every inch of the place. The dining room table was right to the left of the door, now knocked against the wall with the chairs. The kitchen is immediately to the left with layers of dust on every surface. The house had a thick smell of dust and something wet. Less than ten steps forward and you were in the living room. The cushion of the couch laid across the floor with a scattering of blankets and a pillow. You didn’t miss the empty beer bottles that covered the surface of the coffee table and an ashtray.

“Stay here, I’m going to search the bedroom and bathroom,” Eddie spoke, moving to take a step away from you, but stopping short as you tugged on the back of his jacket. He looked back at you with a questioning look.

“Going alone isn’t smart, ever.” You shook your head, “I’m right behind you.”

Eddie hesitated for a second, before nodding his head and continuing forward.

Eddie kept his steps short and tight with his arm raised, and knife ready if needed. You couldn’t hear anything but both of your shallow breaths as you stepped into the bedroom. It was empty. Just an unkempt bed with faded blue sheets and a dresser with the drawers ripped out and everything scattered on the floor.

“Nothing.”

The two of you did the same for the bathroom and came up empty. Eddie double checked the back entrance before the two of you relaxed.

“This place looks like someone stays here,” You spoke, setting your back down on the table by the door.

“Yeah,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck. “I do…well, did sometimes.”

“Alone?” You asked with wide eyes, he nodded in confirmation. “Eddie! That’s not safe.”

“I never came without protection and always let Steve of Gareth know where I was. I just…this has become my place to just get peace.”

You nervously bit on your lip before moving around and walking toward the couch and pillows sitting on the floor. You grabbed the light fainted floral printed blanket and began to place the couch back together. Eddie moved around behind you with the soft thump of his pack hitting the floor. Your eyes scanned around the wood paneling and felt the memories rushing back to the times you were in high school.

“So weird…being back here…” You laughed lightly to yourself, watching as Eddie moved to sit beside you. Resting back against the couch.

“I wanted us to have a little alone time and just away from everything, and not at the trailer.” Eddie shrugged, a little bashful, with a little red on his cheeks as he stared at you.

“Is this a date or something?” You asked with a small giggle.

Eddie reached down into the pack he’d dropped on the floor and pulled out two beer bottles, an even more coy smile on his lips. “Maybe.”

“Munson” You shook your head and took the bottle from his hand after he opened it, the bottle barely having a chill. But you already knew it was going to be a bit sour.

“Know you’ve been a little down lately, especially after everything,” Eddie spoke with a slight shrug as you took a drink, fighting back the grimace as you felt the liquid against your tongue. “And I feel like we haven’t been able to fully talk about it ever since you got back.”

You frowned and looked down at your bottle, “Talking about things isn’t really a date idea that I would’ve come up with.”

Eddie reached over and gently caressed your cheek, causing you to look toward him again. His hand moved till it caressed the back of your neck and rubbed gently. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch and close your eyes softly, whimpering at the massaging pressure against your neck.

“I don’t want you taking this the wrong way,” Eddie started “But we spoke of speaking when we got back after the run. And we sort of have, but I think seeing Nancy die did something, and we didn’t really talk to each other.”

You sighed softly and took another drink from your bottle, “Is that a bad thing? I forgave you; I didn’t think there was more to talk about.”

“No. Just don’t want that if it causes you don’t want to deal with anything after what happened in Redding.”

You closed your eyes tightly and let out a small noise of anguish, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This, trying to…pull things out of me…make me talk about things I don’t want to talk about.”

“Because I love you,” Eddie spoke simply “And I hate seeing you hurting because it’s clear that you are. I hear your cries in your sleep. Your begging.”

You didn’t need to ask what begging, or who you were begging for. The nightmares were clear, and you knew them too well. They switched but were all the same. Memories of loss. Memories of pain.

“Nancy did trigger something.” You nodded your head “My mom, seeing that, brought it all back to the surface. And I didn’t want to talk about anything else because none of it mattered anymore. We are shown time and time again that life is short, way shorter than we think now with how the world is. We have all lost someone” You swallowed thickly. “So why waste time rehashing things that don’t matter anymore when I have you now?”

Eddie blinked a few times as he stared at you before whispering, “Fuck,” He exhaled loudly as if weight we being removed from his shoulders. “Sweetheart, when you say it like that…”

“I love you, Eddie. With every piece of my soul and heart, I’m yours. Nothing else matters. Nothing.”

You spoke with such honesty and conviction as you choked around the words, feeling the emotion as your heart pounded in your chest.

“I want to have my time with you filled with happiness and love as much as we can. That’s it.”

Eddie reached his hand forward and wiped the stray tear that moved down your cheek.

“That’s all I want with you too,” Eddie spoke, his dark brown eyes shining with tears. “I love you so, so much.”

You moved forward and set your drink down before reaching for him. Eddie barely had time to react, setting his to the side as well before you were on him. Your lips moved against his in a way that made you feel like the two of you were one. Bodies pressed tightly together with your hands caressing against the others. Your hand moved beneath his shirt needing to feel his skin. Eddie pulled you onto his lap with his hands spanning across your back and moving down.

Your lungs felt tight with the need for air, but you didn’t care.

All you wanted was Eddie. To feel him, taste him, melt into him.

There was no doubt in your mind that Eddie was the person who was made for you. Everything felt like chaos unless he was at your side.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against yours, hands moving frantically as you rushed to unbuckle his belt.

“I need you, please…” You whimpered with a soft whine, both of you panting as his hands moved with yours.

You watched as he quickly unbuckled his jeans as you stood to do the same. The two of you seemingly became more frantic as seconds passed. The moment your pants were kicked to the side, along with your underwear, you moved back to him. Your lips met with his in a kiss that was messy - teeth clashing against one another.

There was a slight pause between the two of you. Eddie reaches up to caress your face gently and keeps his eyes locked with yours. It was a moment for you to back out. To stop, to take a second and think. But you didn’t need it.

“Eddie,” You whispered gently.

Without a thought Eddie’s lips are on yours, devouring you again, with your hands moving into his dark messy curls. You whimpered as your hips moved against him, feeling him warm and hard against your slit. You couldn’t stop the moment you felt, spreading your slick up and his hardened cock. Just from the feel of him, you knew Eddie was thick, large and it only made you hungry for him more. All on your mind was that you didn’t feel close enough and you needed more. You wanted Eddie to consume you.

Eddie’s hands gripped at the soft, plushy curve of your hips, guiding you as you moved against him. The moans and whimpering shared between the two of you with your tongues moving against each other. You pulled back to reach down between the two of you, palming and stroking his cock slowly, mesmerized as you looked down at him. The soft pink head glistened with a mixture of the two of you, pearls of precum drooling down the side of his shaft. Eddie reached over and gripped tightly to the couch cushion beside him as he let out a whimpered cry with his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His hips moved up against the stroke of your hand.

“Baby – I…fuck please – I need, need to be inside you.” Eddie choked out, his words soft and whiney with a glazed look in his eyes.

Never had you felt like this. So desperate for another, a feeling building up in your chest that makes your chest feel tight.

You rise more on your knees and guide him to your entrance, stroking his head against your slit, before sinking down. A shudder ran up your spine as you felt the stretch of him till he was buried deep inside of you. You sat there for a moment with your hands pressed against his chest and his still white knuckling the couch.

“J-Jesus fuck – oh, baby –,” Eddie choked out as you started to ride him – rolling your hips against him.

A soft breathy whine passed through your lips every time the thatch of hair at the base of his cock brushed against your sensitive clit. Eddie can’t keep his eyes off of where the two of you are joined, watching as your slick drips down his cock and into his pubes. It was a sight he wanted committed to memory for the rest of his life.

“You…fuck – Eddie,” You couldn’t think as the words leaving your mouth became more of an incoherent moaning jumble of words.

Eddie moved quick and flipped the two of you, moving you to lay across the couch with him stretched out above you. The leverage caused Eddie to sink deeper inside, making the two of you cry out. You felt breathless with how full he made you feel. It wasn’t even over, and already, you wanted more. With your legs wrapped around his waist, Eddie began to move faster with each thrust harder than the last. You whimpered at the feeling of him pushing deeper into you.

“That’s it baby, good fuckin’ girl,” Eddie panted, his darkened eyes staring down at you. Your pussy tightened around him more and seemed to pull him in deeper. “Oh…you like that? Like when I call you a good girl?”

“Eddie,” You whined, your pussy fluttering around him more.

“Gonna cum? I can feel it, can feel this perfect lil’ pussy – fuck,” Eddie bit down on his lower lip before cursing under his breath. “Let go for me, I need it…I fuckin’ need to feel this pussy milkin’ my cock.”

Eddie’s hand moved down between you and soon you felt pressed against your clit. A shout came from deep within your chest with the shock of pleasure that moved through you. With the feeling of his fingers against your clit and his cock hitting that spot deep within you, you were gone. Your walls spasm around him as you whimper his name over and over, like a prayer leaving your lips with each sigh. Eddie’s hand moves along your sides as your legs shake, his body pressing down on yours, as his hips move with sharper, sloppier thrusts. Eddie pulls out quickly with his hand fisting around his cock and stroking himself before you felt the warmth of him against your lower stomach. The sight of him sent another shudder through you.

“Holy…fuck,” Eddie groaned, before looking at you and letting out a soft giggle.

You couldn’t help but do the same, the two of you there with your bodies glistening with sweat and each other.

“God what I wouldn’t give for a picture of this,” Eddie spoke, groaning softly, as his eyes scanned over your body.

“You’re a perv, Munson,” You shook your head, “Now get something to clean me off.”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie bent down and kissed you quickly before moving from the couch and toward the kitchen. You couldn’t stop the giggle from bubbling up again as you watched his pale ass as he ran from you.

So that happened...anyway...hope you enjoyed it....please leave a comment, reply, like, or reblog if you did! it really means a lot to me. come and chit-chat with me if you'd like, i love seeing what you guys think. till the next one! (also be gentle it's been months since I've written smut and I'm out of practice thank you. read smut absolutely, 25/8 I'm doing it, but writing...ehhhhhh)

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[mandsleanan]

The Affordable Care Act covers sterilization at no-cost if you're in the US.

Article text under cut.

Sitting in the living room of her Cleveland home, 30-year-old Grace O’Malley reflects on when she ruled out having kids of her own.

O’Malley has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a genetic condition that weakens the body’s connective tissue, and can get much worse postpartum. About three years earlier, when she was in her mid-twenties, her condition worsened. O’Malley’s doctors told her that if she did get pregnant, her uterus could rupture and her child would be more likely to be born prematurely.

O’Malley was on hormonal birth control up until last May. But after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, she knew an abortion ban was likely coming in Ohio and she might not be able to end a pregnancy if her birth control failed. She booked an appointment with her gynecologist.

“I went in that day and I knew right away I wanted a more permanent solution,” said O’Malley. “I was like, ‘I actually want to talk about getting surgery.’ And the nurse was surprised, and she was like, ‘Oh, okay.’”

Dr. Clodagh Mullen, an obstetrician-gynecologist at MetroHealth Medical Center in Cleveland, said since the Dobbs v. Jackson decision — which took away the constitutional right to abortion and returned the issue to state governments — many of her patients have been increasingly worried about access to reproductive healthcare and seeking more permanent solutions.

“Some patients will say, ‘Oh, could you stash some IUDs for me?’” Mullen said. “They get very nervous that [birth control] is just going to go away overall. Nobody can re-implant your tube once it's been taken out, so I think that they have that comfort of there's no way anybody can take this part away from me.”

Legislators in some Midwest states have floated bans on birth control, which, so far, haven’t gone anywhere. Mullen doesn’t anticipate that access to contraception will disappear.

“But I get why people have that fear, as I also probably didn't really think that Roe was going to get overturned, if you had asked me this four or five years ago,” she said.

What Mullen is seeing in Cleveland is mirrored across the country. The Kaiser Family Foundation surveyed more than 500 gynecologists across the U.S. in the spring and about half of doctors in states with abortion restrictions reported the number of patients seeking sterilization has increased since Dobbs.

That includes states like Indiana and Missouri - where abortion is banned with very limited exceptions, and states like Ohio, Iowa and Wisconsin where bans are currently being disputed, or where residents feel they may lose the right to an abortion. Ohio voters just approved an amendment to the state constitution, which guarantees access to abortion.

Three Ohio health systems that track contraception — MetroHealth Medical Center in Cleveland, University Hospitals in Cleveland, and Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center in Columbus — reported a sharp rise in the number of patients seeking tubal sterilization.

Contraception decisions

There aren’t many big health risks to the type of sterilization procedure Mullen performs. Doctors mostly worry about regret. Most studies found that when doctors followed up, a small percentage of women wished they hadn’t gone through with the procedure.

The majority are like O’Malley, who had some complications post surgery, but said she never second guessed her decision.

“I've never really thought about it, honestly,” said O’Malley. “It’s become kind of a fact of my daily life. It’s like, ‘Hi, I'm Grace. I have red hair and I can't have kids.’”

O’Malley is happy her doctor respected her choice. She believes the political climate helped.

She shared the story of her best friend who sought sterilization in her late 20s, about five years ago. She said her friend had to meet with several doctors before one agreed to do the procedure, and even then, made her wait another year in case she changed her mind.

“My friend did not have that kind of grace,” O’Malley said. “Her doctor probably thought, ‘You would have other options. If you got pregnant and decided that it's really not what [you] wanted, then you could get an abortion.’ Whereas for me, that might not be the option.”

Men decide, too

Men’s contraception patterns are also changing, according to physician reports.

Dr. Sarah Sweigert, a urologist at Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center, said doctors at her office performed double the number vasectomy consults and procedures as they had before the ruling.

She points to a Cleveland Clinic study, which showed that, in the summer following the court decision, the average age of men getting the procedure has dropped from late 30s to mid-30s compared to the same period the year before. The study also showed there was a significant increase in the number of men under 30 and men without children seeking vasectomy consultations post Dobbs. Sweigert has seen that trend first-hand in her practice.

“I think as more women speak out about perhaps not wanting to be on various forms of birth control for decades, I think that men are more aware of vasectomies and perhaps are doing their part,” she said.

Vasectomies are generally safer than female sterilization and have a much quicker recovery.

But Mullen isn’t surprised that so many women want the procedure themselves – they are the ones who would have to carry the pregnancy and handle the ensuing health impacts.

O’Malley feels that acutely. She had been in vulnerable situations in the past. She was sexually assaulted in college and went through a period where she was homeless. O’Malley said her choice was an act of self-protection.

“It’s not like I sit around thinking that the worst case scenario is going to happen,” she said. “But I would want to know that I was going to be safe and I wasn't going to end up in a situation where I was pregnant and I would have no path to go.”

[theoutcastrogue]

A story about a wall

This wall is in my old neighbourhood, and it didn’t always look like this. When I was a kid, it was painted grey and was always covered with graffiti – not art, just words and phrases and maybe a symbol. The majority of these, I’d say about ~60%, were football-related.

[rival team fans] you are cunts

[neighbourhood] belongs to [our team]

[rival team fans] we fuck your mothers

suck our cocks [rival team fans] faggots

And so on. Another ~20% were anarchist.

free [political prisoner]

down with the state

anarchy forever

fuck the army

And so on. Another ~10% were otherwise political. The names of big and small political parties (and some MPs) showed up at election season, not scrawled with spray but painted professionally with rollers in huge letters. Sometimes a union urged people to join a strike or rally. Very very rarely a fascist graffiti would show up, but it would get defaced immediately. There were a lot more anarchists than fascists back then.

And the rest was about love and/or lust.

[name] I love you

I miss you so much

[name] when will you let me fuck you?

the ass is hell / and the cunt a well / and he who ass never tried / goes to Hades blind

And so on. Defaced graffiti was a big part of the wall. People spared no spray cans crossing out each other’s messages, and at times it all looked like the deranged scrawlings of an eldritch abomination, you couldn’t make out a single word.

And here’s a very important detail about that wall: it’s facing an elementary school.

My school, to be exact. Small children (i.e. we) would go out to the schoolyard at recess, look across the street, and see what I just described. Needless to say, a lot of adults were quite displeased with this situation. But what could they do? The mayor would send a cleaning crew once in a while, but 5 minutes after they left someone would inaugurate the freshly painted wall, and a day later it would be full again. Walls in cities be like that.

AND THEN, long after I was gone from the school, someone had a stroke of genius. They said, we’re not gonna paint the wall that awful monochrome grey again. Instead, we’ll cover it in street art. BUT, we won’t ask street artists to pitch their ideas. We will ask the children of the elementary school to come up with the designs, draw them themselves or pick them from wherever they want. We’ll hire a crew to paint what they chose. And we’ll make sure everyone knows that the children picked the street art. Which heartless bastard will spray over that?

AND IT FUCKING WORKED. The football hooligans, the anti-authoritarian rebels, the politicians’ stooges, the unionists, the lovers, the assholes: no one had the heart to spray over that. The street art went up, and stayed up. It didn’t get defaced, it didn’t get covered, it’s still there. (Not quite unblemished, there are still margins where football fans do their thing, but it’s a very small percentage of the total surface.)

yeah, that part looks like the old wall

So while the street art itself on that wall is not particularly jaw-dropping, its origin story is just crazy. I’m sure that the children weren’t given totally free rein to pick designs, and that teachers and/or the city council made the final choice. And it’s probably they who picked the theme – bicycles. All neat and proper and kid-friendly. Still, one little rascal managed to slip this past:

“Till theft give us parts”, i.e. bicycle parts, get it? (DON’T JUDGE THE PUN, IT WAS A LITTLE KID.) And it makes me so happy.

[pazzesco]

James Kivetoruk Moses - Inupiat/Inupiak, (1900-1982) - untitled, depicting a woman and a man standing in front of their home.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a bowhunter, his seal prey, and a confronting polar bear .

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a seal hunter casting his hook.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a hunter with his catch working his way across ice flows.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a hunter in his kayak bringing in a seal.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a man coaxing a harnessed reindeer.

"Mr & Mrs Napasuk Big Chief East Cape Siberia", depicting a woman and a man posing in front of their camp.

When strong gusts flipped a small plane landing near Teller, on the Seward Peninsula on August 14, 1953, one 50-year-old Inupiaq Eskimo hunter, trapper, and reindeer herder injuring his leg lost all means of support. “No more work, no more hunting,” he said about the event that caused a career change. “Is only way…drawing pictures.” Recovering, James Kivetoruk Moses resumed a teenage habit now leavened by anecdotes, legends, and knowledge accrued over five decades during which the land had taught and sustained him.

At heart, he remained a herder. And modest. Asked about his pictures’ appeal, he admitted lacking refinement. “Young people try to be artists,” he said. “They come up good artists, very good drawing because they were school. But no experience. Don’t know nothing [about] living.”

Untitled, depicting a shaman treating a sick man

In 1975, weakened by strokes and surgeries, Moses, with his wife, Bessie, resided in Nome, a non-Native commercial hub since Yankee-whaler days. Their cabin, abutting the Golden Goose saloon, sat a stone’s throw from black, foam-flecked Bering Strait beaches. Bessie, first acting as his bookkeeper, peddled a briefcase of Moses’ nostalgia at local hotels. She kept a percentage of the profits for herself, she once joked. For an extra five dollars she provided a handwritten summary of the subjects, of routines, beliefs, and a past beyond her clienteles’ ken.

Untitled, pen and ink wash on card stock

Accompanying this drawing is one of those five dollar handwritten summaries by the artist's wife Bessie, dated August 12, 1975:

"This pretty girl is from N. East Siberia. Her uncle and her folks were well to do family and they came across to our mainland from there every spring after spring to trade more than one skin or whole lot of them come same time all the way to Katzebue. They brought reindeer skins black and spotted skins, wolverines and wolfs skins to trade with all kinds of furs. This girl came with her mother because the father had to take care of their business. She was helpful and good to the people and everybody learn to love her every place. They want to help them on account of her wanting to marry. But since they were traveling the mother + father wouldn't leave her behind being the only girl. Hope the true happening is a good story. So long + good-by By Bessie Moses"

Postcard - James Kivetoruk Moses - "Eskimo Men & Woman" - Anchorage Museum

[t-counter]

Saw your ask about going to a bookshop, got any book recommendations for someone who hasn't read many books in a while? Which type of stories intrigue you the most? Do you like movies? If so, which genres, which flicks?

T Count: 10

Letter Count: 172

Your T Percentage: 5.81%

Average T Percentage: 9.45%

You used the letter T 0.61 times as much as average.

—

My favourite fiction genre is fantasy, and I do so love @neil-gaiman's books; I've read 6 of his books so far this year. I've also read a few books from people here on Tumblr, such as Time to Orbit: Unknown and Curse Words by @derinthescarletpescatarian or Hunger Pangs by @thebibliosphere, or When The Angels Left The Old Country by @kuttithevangu. They're all lovely authors, and I think that Derin's books would be especially wondrous for someone who hasn't read in a while - they're tremendously engaging. I have also read a lot of other fiction this year, not by authors on Tumblr, but if we were to talk about all of the books I've read, we'd be here all day.

In terms of non-fiction, I tend to like books to do with religion, sociology, and anthropology. I've been reading a few books about the intersection of religion and queer identity lately, including the book I got yesterday. We also tried to look for Gathering Moss, which has been on my to read list for a while, as I loved Braiding Sweetgrass. Sadly, although Gathering Moss was meant to be on the shelf, it couldn't be found, so I couldn't get it yesterday.

Some other books I've got at that bookshop recently included the Wizard of Earthsea trilogy by Ursula K Le Guin, which I haven't read yet, and People Love Dead Jews, which was rather informative. It is a rather lovely bookshop; it's quite small, but it is an independent bookshop and publisher and tends to have books that the larger bookshops don't tend to have.

In terms of films, I tend to prefer either older films, odd films, or a mixture of the two.

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Happy 1106 day!

1106 is also known as the Adler dorm number for Rayne Ames (and his roommate Max Land), so November 6th is commonly celebrated in the Japanese fanbase as "Rayne Ames Festival Day".

As a celebration, I've roughly translated Rayne and Max's fan book profiles under the cut! It's full of interesting information about them as an individual character that doesn't manage to get explored much in the main series, so hope you enjoy it!

"A taciturn sword that sticks to his convictions, and a Divine Visionary that strictly speaks on one's back."

Rayne Ames

Quote: "You need to shut your mouth, before I shut it for you." (from Volume 13, chapter 117)

Small memo (near little Rayne and Finn image): A minimalist with a penchant for saving money, except for things related to rabbits and his younger brother.

A magician who becomes a Divine Visionary to change the Magic World from the ground up for the sake of his family. He's pursuing such a dream as he balances his work as a Divine Visionary and his responsibilities as a student. Profile (these have been translated in wiki and thus taken from there)

Birthday: March 3 Age: 18 years old Height: 175cm Weight: 67kg Dominant hand: Left Foot size: 27.5cm Family: Finn Ames (younger brother) Good subjects: Magic History, Magical Zoology Bad subject(s): Fortune telling Hobbies: Rabbit sucking, sewing Favorite food: Bean sprouts, vegetables Favorite words: Say what you want Favorite type of the opposite sex: Never thought about it Dislikes: Talking more than necessary Frequently visited school spots: Purchasing department How to spend money: Savings, rabbit breeding expenses How to spend holidays: Taking care of rabbits

Relationship Chart

Rayne to Mash: A troublesome junior Rayne to Finn: Must be protected at all costs Rayne to Kaldo: Thank you for taking care of my brother Rayne to Max: Only best friend Rayne to rabbit: *sighs softly* Rayne to Wahlberg: Old geezer who likes to boss people around

Magic: Sword Magic

A magic that can summon countless swords. The personal magic, named "Partisan", has a power level measured through percentages that can be adjusted, an average student usually can't even handle 10% of it.

The caption of Rayne calling out Partisan picture: It's one of the most deadly magic in the Magic World, but he brandishes it only for the sake of justice.

Divine Visionary: of Sword Cane, as well as one of the Directors of the Magical Items Department

All the magical items existing in the Magic World have very strict control. Newly manufactured tools are delivered to the Bureau of Magic to ensure safety. After carefully examining them and making sure the new items are safe, they'll be delivered to the citizens.

The caption of the Magic Mirror (used by Cell War against Mash): The loss of the Magic Mirror marks a great mistake for all of the directors of the department.

Pick-up: An Awkward Big Brother

Rayne, who rarely talks but always shows through his actions, makes people have a lot of trust in him, and many students follow his way too. However, his lack of words often causes many misunderstandings.

Quote for upper image: "I've always been really terrible at encouraging people." (Volume 6, Chapter 47)

Caption for upper image: He tried to put himself in the position of the junior who's taking reckless challenges.

Quote for left image: "I'll make sure that brazen kid, goes as far as he can go." (Volume 6, Chapter 46)

Caption for left image: He forced Margarette, who was after Mash, to retreat by using his Thirds.

Quote: "Words only have a meaning when paired with actions. If you can't act, it's the same as not saying anything at all." (Volume 6, Chapter 45)

Caption: This principle came from his late parents who passed away without words or promises. Since that time, he always lived up to his words.

Quote: "I still remember you used to come crying at me over the smallest things. You've grown up." (Volume 14, Chapter 119)

Caption for his moments with Finn: For the sake of his younger brother, he had always been shouldering many burdens. However, after seeing his brother's growth, he changed his mind.

Pick Up: A Genuine Rabbit Lover for Life

It all began when Max suggested Rayne, who was at that time aiming to be the Divine Visionary, to start having rabbits out of concern for Rayne's mental health's well-being. Now, Rayne has never stopped to pour an extraordinary amount of love for his rabbits.

The caption of Rayne surrounded by rabbits: This scene too is a display of Rayne's "survival of the fittest" between the strong and the weak (?)

The caption of Rayne's rabbit handkerchief: Should you ever find a lost rabbit-patterned goodies, please give it to Rayne first and foremost.

Mash's Room Corner (a corner to talk about gossip relating to the character, with Mash's commentary)

"I've been in the same dorm as Rayne since middle school but...that Rayne...there were quite a few times when the screws in his head were loose. He takes jokes a little too seriously, and because of that, I had to teach him lots of them." (from Max)

Mash: An unexpected side of a good person.

The Secret Story of Rayne as told by ***!! (a corner about various characters' opinions of a character, in this case, their opinions of Rayne)

Ryoh: I understand the feeling of pushing yourself away for your family's sake, but sometimes relying on others is what makes a man, Rayne.

Margarette: I saw Rayne trying to help a lost child in the city. However, he accidentally made the child cry even more because of his unfriendly looks and unsociability.

Brad: So you've become the Divine Visionary through hard work. Well, depending on Mash's hard work, my promotion might not just be a dream anymore.

Cell War: Since you're one of the directors of the Magical Items Department, it's really difficult to sneak in. Still, the staff canteen's foods are really delicious.

"Summarizing the Adler Dorm: Honest and full of conscience"

Max Land

Quote: "Let's solve this together!" (Volume 6, chapter 49)

Small memo (near the picture of running Max): His foot speed is number one! He also has a playful side when he pulls a prank and runs.

A third-year at Adler dorm who is open-minded and friendly. Since he is well-liked within the school, he often shares his wisdom and consults others.

Profile (these have been translated in wiki and thus taken from there with slight adjustment)

Birthday: November 19 Age: 18 years old Height: 168cm Weight: 64kg Blood type: O Dominant hand: Right Foot size: 26cm Family members: Father, Mother, Eldest brother, Older brother Good subject: Magic history Bad subject: Broom class Hobbies: Exploring the school while making his body smaller Favorite food: Deep-fried salamander Favorite words: 平凡 (Heibon: Ordinary or commonplace) Favorite type of opposite sex: People who have their own world Dislikes: High places Frequently visited school spots: Purchasing Department How to spend money: Book fees (mainly comic books) How to spend holidays: Going to Marchette Street with friends and taking care of rabbits when Rayne is away

Relationship Chart

Max to Mash: Junior Max to Rayne: You're so awkward I can't leave you alone Max to Finn: Like my own little brother Max to Carpaccio: Lately, when I look around, you're suddenly sitting next to me.

Magic: Size-changing Magic

This magic can change the size of people and objects. Up to 3 different people and/or objects can be resized at one time. This personal magic is very handy for support, as shown during the selection exam where he helped his ally.

Image caption: He made himself and Mash smaller to get away from the eyes of Deadervants.

Mash's Room Corner

I consulted with him the other day, but that guy has the face of an ordinary person but still manages to look handsome. It's plainly and doubly frustrating. (from Dot)

Mash: I feel sorry for Senior Max for being blamed unreasonably like that.

Pick-Up: A Selfish Desire as a Senior

He has a naturally caring personality who won't ever leave his troubled junior behind. But the truth is he just wants to "prove himself like a man", which he despises himself for.

Quote for upper image: "My premonition was right..." (Volume 6, chapter 50)

Quote for left image: "Say, Rayne. Did I do my best for the younger students?"

Caption for left image: Supporting the junior that Rayne is interested in.

The Secret Story of Max as told by ***!!

Tom: I invited him to join Duelo, but he declined because he is scared of heights. Senior Max, you're like a bamboo that's stuck on the ground!

BONUS (from the Q&A session with the original creator Komoto Hajime-sensei):

Q17: In the final chapter, are Rayne and Finn of the Ames brothers able to get along again?

A17: Rayne (addressed as 'onii-tama here) is a tsundere, but I think they're able to get along well!

Q18: Why does Finn call Rayne with "Nii-sama" instead of "Nii-san"?

A18: Because of the distance between them...

(A/N: In the original Japanese version, Finn does not call Rayne by name, but calls him "Nii-sama", this has a lot of meaning and nuances that unfortunately are hard to translate and doesn't have an English equivalent, hence the change. "Onii-tama" on the other hand is a baby talk version of "onii-sama".)

[tomboy014]

So, anyone’s who’s watched the show know that Skulker loves to proclaim that he’s the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter at the top of his lungs.  Most takes I see of him have him as a poacher when he was alive.

I prefer the idea that he only hunted legally and is just as big a conservationist as Sam is.  After all, he can’t hunt if his prey’s habitat is destroyed or goes extinct.  And it pisses Sam off to no end.

Like, Sam has a booth set up outside the school where she’s trying to get people to sign a petition or donate to save one of the less cute endangered species.  Skulker shows up, but instead of coming to take Danny’s pelt, he’s there to sign the petition.  He’ll hunt the whelp later. 

None of them can believe it, but he refuses to leave until he signs it.  Sam argues that he can’t support the endangered animals if he hunts them, but After all, personal donations only make up a small percentage of the funding that conservation efforts rely on; the majority comes from hunting fees.  Legal trophy hunts have a target selected that’s either old or problematic.  The fees and money for guides help support the local economy.  In return, the animals are seen as an asset and source of income, so locals will help protect their habitat and go after poachers.  Where Sam has always used an emotional appeal to make her arguments, Skulker uses facts, and it drives her nuts that she can’t argue against him. 

Tucker: See?  I’m saving the earth by eating the cows!

Skulker: You are aware the beef industry is the leading cause of deforestation in the Amazon?

Sam: Yes!  Thank you!

Skulker: That’s why I hunt for my food!

Sam: NO!!!

Every time Sam starts losing her argument, she yells at Danny to just shove him in the thermos already, but Danny refuses because 1) it’s actually super informative, 2) he’s using this stuff to help him pass some classes, and 3) if Skulker’s arguing with Sam, it means he’s not hunting him.

It also explains why he’ll take jobs from Vlad.  Tags and licenses are expensive, and he needs human money for those.