#The creation of Stoll

[maybxlle]

for my resident travis stoll expert, eden (love you 😘)

oops got your keys!

travis stoll:

for you my love ❤️ @cinemaconrad

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 13- Step Bro!Dazai/Reader/Step Bro!Fyodor

Notes: I think it's a little ooc, but i really couldn't decide which characters to go with so yeah.

also, uhm, that fyodor header picture has nothing to do with the actual story, i just though he looked so fucking hot with that gun(also yes, ik im using the step silbing/dad concept twice but its just so sexy to me yaknow*)(*and also, if your wondering, i actually have a wonderful relationship with my father)

Ever since you can remember the house had been cold. You didn't call it your house, even though you had lived there all your life. No, it was more akin to a creature unto itself, a perfect reflection of your childhood. You were born in this house, the only child Mother, or Cecilia as she insisted upon, didn't abort. You spent your younger years with a nanny, who cared for you the best she could. She taught you to read and write, and you excelled especially at math. But Cecilia didn't care. She never cared. And the house reflected her disinterest.

The nanny, a kind woman named Martha, had been disposed of when you turned eight. Cecilia decided you were old enough to function on your own and fired the waste of money. You spent your years after that in the library, absorbing information, reading fanciful stories with mothers who loved their daughters. You wondered why Cecilia never loved you. 

When you turned ten, Cecilia brought home a man. She introduced you, and you stood like instructed, pretty and well behaved. He patted you on the head, but never spared you a glance. He was tall, blond and very, very young. Much younger than Cecilia. And he was much too enamored to care for you, Cecilia's little child. Cecilia encouraged this behavior, and although the number of people in the house had grown, you were all alone. You were always alone. But it was ok, you were used to the silence. You sat in your large playroom, and cried into your pillow, muffling your feelings in the silk. Cecilia didn't need your burdensome feelings. 

The summer you turned eleven, Cecilia brought another man home. And this man was kind to you at first. He gave you candy and treated you with kindness, luring you into his trap like a spider. The first time he hit you, you had cried defiantly for Cecilia. And of course Cecilia had not come, for she would rather believe her boytoys over her own flesh and blood. Humans were cruel things, ready to hurt others at the drop of a hat. And Cecilia was the cruelest. Nothing comforted you for ounce as you cried into your comforter, as unloved as before. 

The summer you turned fifteen it was clear you had inherited Cecilia's peerless beauty. You spent the rest of the summer mastering makeup and when you arrived at your private school you were instantly popular. The makeup just elevated your already peerless beauty and people, both boys and girls fell at your feet. You reveled in the popularity, the love. A different kind of love, but love all the same. The house congratulated you, but Cecilia didn't care. She never did, after all.

Your grades never fell however, you simply could not let them. If you were proud of anything, it was your intelligence. It was wholly yours, unlike your beauty, inherited from Cecilia. You hated that you were her creation, hated it with your entire very being. You loved your intelligence, however. It came from your father, you were told briefly by Cecilia, and because you had never met him it was easier to accept his qualities. The house was from your father, his money at least. A gift to Cecilia. 

And the one gift he had ever gotten you was a ring, a gorgeous piece of silver and emeralds that Cecilia had taken, stoll right from your pudgy two year old hands. You had never even gotten to hold it as an adult. You didn't miss it, not really. But you hated the trait you shared with Cecilia, a sense of selfishness, and a love for jewelry. 

 It was on your sixteenth birthday, sitting at a table alone as you were blowing out the birthday candles, that you truly cried without the comfort of your pillows. Cecilia was out, and as you eat your cake, you soon come to realize that you had grown up too fast. You had been an adult since the moment Martha was fired and you had sat in the cold walls of your beige playroom, crying and crying for comfort, something that would never find you again. You were a shell, a puppet, a beautiful china doll empty of  love. You were Cecilia. The house laughed at your plight, as you sobbed into your pillow, muffling your feelings into the comforting silk. 

It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after you turned seventeen when Cecilia broke the news. You were sitting by the pool, sunbathing in your swimsuit. Cecilia simply walked in, spared you a glance, and informed you she was getting married. You felt a small shiver of surprise run up your spine. Cecilia had had many boyfriends, yes, but she never married them. This man had to be different. Or maybe it was her age, and her fading looks. You hated the spike of happiness that pillaged though your heart, you hated how feelings of hatred turned you into a spiteful shrew, just like Cecilia. Cecilia had cracked open a beer, flipping through her magazine, sparing you one last glance. “He has sons, two of them.” She had said, closing the screen door behind her. 

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“There you are, Name. You're late.” Cecilia said, giving you her usual faintly disapproving stare mixed with disgust. You still quail under it, even though it's the same one you’ve seen for years and years and years. You still fear her disapproval, even after all. 

“I'm sorry Cecilia.” You say, straightening your spine. You're still in your school uniform, and the bus was late but you know better than to give excuses. Cecilia doesn't care for those. The little skirt and blazer combo is one of your favorites, and the only thing you truly love about St. Catherine's private school for young ladies. The walls of St Catherines are barren and cold, but not as cold as your own. Cecilia flips her hair, looking perfectly put together as always, although her age is beginning to show around her eyes. She hates it, you know, and you love it. You can't wait for Cecilia to wither away, her personal worst nightmare. 

“Don't embarrass me, Name.” Cecilia says, her cold eyed stair rooting you to your place. “Just smile pleasantly and entertain your step brothers, alright Sweetheart?” She says. The pet name reeks of disinterest but her disinterest is preferable to her anger. For when Cecilia angers the foundations of the very house shake. You nod, and Cecilia takes that as enough. A knock sounds on the door, and any ugly expression is gone from her face as she flies for the door, opening it and hopping into the arms of the man behind it. 

He’s your mothers usual type, tall and handsome, but several years older than you would have guessed. He spins her around, and they kiss. You look away. There are two boys standing behind him on the doorstep, and to your surprise they also look away from the torrid display. Their strange boys, both around the same height, but that is the only thing they share in common. They don't even really look related, but who are you to judge? Done with their display, Cecilia and her new husband step through the door, still attached at the hip. Cecilia throws you a glare, and you put on your customary smile, a smile so fake you feel like a barbie doll. 

“My daughter, Name.” Cecilia almost imperceptibly grimaces at the word daughter, gesturing at you. You smile. “Hello.” You say, feeling like a fake. The man gives you a smile, gesturing at his sons, who have stepped through the door, and now stand on either side of him and Cecilia. “My sons, Fyodor and Osamu.” The one on the right smiles at you, the other one simply gives you a nod. They're so different, you’d almost think them adopted. But you can see their features in their father. 

The smiling one, Osamu, has short wavy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. He gives you a tiny wave, and you feel your smile become genuine for a second, before you catch yourself. The ones who smile are more dangerous, you had learned long ago. They lure you with kindness and hit you with force. He’s dressed in a wrinkled button down and uniform pants, his posture casual with his hands in his pockets. A matching tie hangs crooked on his neck. It's the uniform for your school, or the boys school across the street. St. Catherines school for young ladies and St. Andrews school for young men share a single campus separated by a metal fence. 

The one on the left side is pale, almost sickly pale, with dark circles to match his long dark hair. It looks soft, his hair, and brushes just below his jaw. H’s eyes are dark, and they run over your face, almost as if they're checking for cracks in your composure. He’s dressed in the same uniform, but his appearance is more neat. His tie is tied correctly, and he wears a black jacket over the rest of his uniform. They are strange boys, but you are very used to strange after all. 

“Name? Entertain your new brothers, Sweetheart.” Cecilia says. You wince at the nickname. You hate that nickname, you hate it so much. “Yes Cecilia.” You bite out, smile still in place. You feel empty, like a porcelain doll. A tool Cecilia can use and discard at any moment. You feel disposable. You hate it. 

⋆｡ °✩

Your new brothers are kind, if a little strange. The quiet one with pretty hair, Fyodor, is a year older than you. He plays cello and dislikes Cecilia, which makes you like him a lot. Fyodor treated you with an amount of distance at first, but slowly warmed up to you when he found out you play piano. He had informed you one day, when he was helping you with homework, that his mother was a Russian supermodel. And he’s handsome, you're not really surprised. He’s kind in a quiet kind of way, less teasing than his younger brother. You also notice how he subtly moves forward, shielding you whenever Cecilia is angry. You love him for it, that protectiveness. 

Osamu is younger than you by about six months, and loud. He quite clearly makes it his goal to be the loudest person in the room and you love how it annoys Cecilia every time he steals her thunder. He’s a very touchy person as well, unlike his brother. He would comfort you with jokes when he saw you were down, and could not cook for the life of him. His reaction to Cecilia was the most reactionary. He taunted her, shot smart alec remarks in her direction, or just plain ignored her. And every time he got a reaction. Cecilia’s face would flush red with anger, and she would strike out, just to be dodged with a snarky little comment. And the more angry she got, the more pleased Osamu became

And they hate each other, the brothers. At first you had thought they got along well, but then you noticed the snarky little comments they would trade back and forth, the glares behind their parents back. Everything is a constant competition, be it a board game or report cards they make it their goal to beat the other each time. And you don't really mind, the house feels warm and full of life, and you feel included. To them, life seems a game, and the people who live it merely pieces, to be moved to and fro to their pleasure. You must assume yourself a spectator, not a piece, but if you were a piece you would like to be the queen. Cecilia didn't like your new brothers, that much was obvious. But she still used them to belittle you every chance she got.  

“Your brothers got all A+.” She would say, pinning you with that faintly disgusted expression she used as default. “And you got an A.” You would surrender to your room to cry in peace, away from Cecilia's proud eyes, and the prying ears of your much to perceptive brothers. 

But if they shared anything, it was a sense of mystery. Because each of them never allowed you to get too close, keeping you forever just a length away. You tried not to take it personally, but you still shed a tear or two. 

But for the first time in many years, you were happy. The house congratulated you, as its hallways filled with laughter to replace to silence, its rooms with color to replace the beige. Cecilia was as unpleasant as ever, but she was busy with her husband, and left you and your step brothers to their own devices. But still you feared it would all go away. That soon, they would tire of you, that they would never let you close, that Cecilia would grow tired of her husband and toss out the trash as she always did. It was a nagging fear that came back to haunt you in dreams, until you woke up in a cold sweat. 

And there's an odd tension that hovers in the air, whenever you and the brothers interact. A strange tension that makes your blood sing with excitement, that leaves you on your toes with anticipation. When Osamu slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a loose hug of sorts. When Fyodor pulls your hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing your face, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It's a tension you’ve felt before, a tension you don't want to give name to, a tension that scares you. But then, you're sure it's just you, that your new brothers simply treat you as a sister, like how you should treat them. You should not desire your step brothers, Cecilia had told you the night before they moved in. But then again, Cecilia had never been a very good role model. 

⋆｡ °✩

It's raining, big fat drops pattering against the roof, wind splattering the droplets against the window panes. A faint clatter can be heard from outside, as if the wind itself is crying, banging at the doors. The wind sounded lonely. It banged on the doors of the world, begging to be let into the light, much like you had when you were young. You wanted to comfort the wind, to hold her in your arms with the warmth you had never been given, but everyone knew you could not hold the wind. So you simply told her to stay strong, and let the night and rain embrace her for you. 

You would always read when it rained. You remembered a book you had read long ago. It had been the one to solidify the wind as lonely, and had been oh so impressionable to your young mind. ‘Keep strong wind’ it read, ‘keep strong and soon the rain and night will hold you in their comforting embrace, will keep you warm and happy…’. You had always seen yourself in the lonely wind, and had dreamed of your rain and night to comfort you. The library had long been your only comfort, and you begged for human comfort, human warmth.(You didn't dare to hope that your step brothers could be your night and rain, because you knew god would hear you and laugh in your face. Because god loved Cecilia, not worthless you.)

Cecilia and her husband are gone, on a weekend trip to Hawaii. You were not invited, because of course not, and neither were your brothers. 

The house is almost silentand with Osamu out at book club the house seems to sigh in relief, giving itself time to relax before the loudness returns. 

You are curled up on the couch with a book, listening to Fyodor as he practices his Cello. It's a cozy evening, the fire crackling in the grate, the strains of the first movements of Brahms – Cello Sonata No. 1 floating through the cozy atmosphere. You hear the piano part along with him unconsciously, fingers tapping your things in rhythm. You can never quite beat the musician out of you, it's embedded into your very being at this point. 

Brahms – Cello Sonata No. 1, the first movement is a deep piece, and slightly depressing if you're being honest. But you love the melancholy that surrounds it. It creates a certain air, allowing the instruments to tangle together beautifully almost as if the melodies are dancing together. They twist like lovers, the parts, dipping one then the other, a beautifully teasing medley of pure emotion, something you could never truly give in life. It would be nice to dance with Fyodor, he was such an elegant human being, from the way he walked to his looks. You imagined the two of you would sail across the floor of the ballroom, his gloved hand on your waist, twirling you and spinning you and only looking at you. You wanted him to gaze upon you with reverence, much like the men your mother married gazed upon her. You want to be loved.

The Cello part comes to an end, and you sit silently for a moment, hesitant to break the spell. Then Fyodor's accented voice, still slightly hushed, breaks through the atmosphere. “How was it?” He says. You love his accent, it feels all full and warm. “Good, good as always.” You say, putting a finger in your book and looking up. “You were a bit sharp on the first note of measure twenty seven.” You're reading Pride and Prejudice, again. You’ve always loved it, and have read it some many times you’ve simply lost count.

Fyodor sighs, leaning back in his chair and resting his cello back into its case. “You always catch my mistakes. What would I do without you, Name.” He says with a small smile. Your heart warms at the praise, your smile threatening to break out of its confinements, all together and split your face in two. You tamp it down, putting on a face of disinterest you're not sure he believes. You always get the vague feeling that your brothers know you better than you know yourself.

You flip through the channels on tv, happy to have control of the remote. It's all the usual, sports games and real housewives and spanish game show episodes. You put on a random movie, which sounded interesting. ‘Essential object of enjoyment,’(is a title that to anyone else would scream softcore porn film, to you, still a sheltered girl of seventeen years old, it seemed as innocent as a daisy. You were not a virgin, but inexperienced and somewhat oblivious, so at odds with your calm adult attitude.) Fyodor plops himself on the couch next to you, a tedious foot away. He seemed too far away but all at once to close, the heat of his body a tease beside you. You clench your legs together, pulling in on yourself.

The film is about a young woman named Maria, who is taking a vacation on a very sketchy manor in a strange small town. It's a low budget film, with crappy acting and even crappier scares, but it's entertaining and you find yourself settling in against the couch, slowly leaning closer and closer to the warm human beside you. And soon, as Maria decides to ignore all the advice of the locals and enter the abandoned church late at night, you're so close your shoulders are almost touching, and finally, you dare to lean into him. 

He lets you, slinging an arm around your shoulders with an excuse none of you are listening to anyway, and pulls a small blanket over your bare legs. “You're cold aren't you?” he says, voice hushed in your ear. You shiver, with a nod. You arent that cold, but you want to be close to him, to feel his heat, his warmth. You're sure he knows this, and you let yourself feel hopeful for once, curling into his body like a pedigree cat. 

And as you watch the movie, heart pounding in your throat, it dawns on you that something is very clearly wrong. The budget is too cheap, but the camera work is too advanced, the camera’s to expensive. The acting is too bad, but the actress has professionally done makeup and hair. And then, as you watch Maria get tied up by the clean masked man, it all makes too much sense. It's softcore porn. You move for the remote, fishing around for it on the couch, desperately. You're already flushing, your thighs rubbing together as you reach around for it. The idea of watching a porn film with your step brother is humiliating and embarrassing and frustratingly arousing. 

“Do you need something?” Fyodor says, rubbing little soft patterns in your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You nod. “The remote, gonna switch channels.” You're already flushing, but have stopped your frantic fishing for the remote. He frowns in disappointment and you automatically tense, so used to Cecilia’s disappointed or angry stares. “Can we leave it, I'm actually enjoying it.” He says. You glance at the screen, where Maria is now being threatened by a knife. You desperately want to say no, but the people pleaser in you insist you agree. And so, you sink back into his touch, flushing. 

‘Where is it? Where is it?’ The masked man is saying to Maria. The film takes a moment to focus on the actress’s bountiful chest, and you try not to writhe with embarrassment and jealousy. You bet Fyodor likes big boobs, Cecilia said all men like big boobs. Her’s are fake, but you don't feel the need to protest and get a slap. 

The bad guy of the film is a man in a purple mask. He’s thin in stature, and tall, overwhelming Maria’s small frame. He reminds you distinctly of the man sitting beside you, with his face hidden like that. He has a russian accent in the film as well, just like the man beside you, and as he whispers in her ear it does stuff to you. 

‘Tell me where it is or there will be consequences.’ the man in the mask says. 

‘I will never tell you!’ Maria says definitely. You watch in horror as the masked man's thin fingers slip between her thighs. The camera cuts to her face of surprise. It's clear that this is where the actress’s true chops shine, as her mouth drops open in a little oh of surprise. 

You feel hot, biting back a whimper as you press your thighs together, hoping that your step brother doesn't notice. 

‘Your such a slut for my fingers aren't you?’ The man in the mask bends Maria over a table, the camera now showing a cut of his hands pulling her thighs apart. All you can picture in your mind is you as Maria, and the man in the mask as Fyodor. When the man in the film speaks all you can hear is Fyodor’s voice, his teasing lines, him all him all him. 

And then, the other bad guy of the film appears. And honestly it should shock you out of your dirty fantasies, but the other man, this one in a teal mask, sounds very similar to your other step brother. 

You can imagine yourself in Maria's place, bent over a table like that, fingers shoved up your cunt, dick keeping you silent. And most of all, pretty praises falling out of your step brother's mouths. ‘Such a pretty girl, such a smart girl, so good for us, such a slut for us—’

Fyodor’s eyes are on you, you can feel them even as you focus resolutely on the screen. He speaks near your ear, a pur, a whisper, a tease ment for seduction. “What are you imagining, darling?” He says. He speaks like he already knows, and through your haze of arousal clouding your brain you let the words escape before you can stop them. 

“Fingers in my cunt.” You say, your voice a whimper. Maria on the screen begins to moan, loudly. The volume goes down on screen and you're too lust clouded to question why Fyodor had the remote. 

“You want fingers in your pretty cunt baby?” Fyodor purrs in your ear, his long pale fingers teasing the edge of your uniform skirt. “You want my fingers stuffed up that tight cunt of yours? Would that feel good?” You whine, head falling back against his arm, eyes falling closed. 

“Oh yes, please.” Your voice is embarrassing, all breathy and whiny. This whole situation is illogical, and if you were able to see through the haze of lust in your brain you would have backpedaled immediately. But you're horny and in love and he’s encouraging you. 

His fingers caress the edge of your panties, teasing you with glances of touches, driving you crazy. You grip his arm, the one teasing your pussy and shove the hand against your drooling cunt. The man beside you bites back a groan, muffling his pleasure, but you hear it. It reassures you that he wants you too, but also drives you insane, craving sweet relief with his touch. 

Fyodor’s fingers find purchase, clever musicians' hands pulling back the crotch of your panties. He chuckles as you clutch his arm, still clothed in his loose white turtleneck and jeans. “You're so wet darling, your little cunt is absolutely drooling.” he says, his accent doing things to your brain, to your pussy. Your eyes catch on the dirty picture. He drags his fingers through, collecting a fair bit of wetness and popping his fingers in his mouth. The picture is nasty. He keeps eye contact all throughout, sucking his fingers wetly, the dirty slurping sounds filling the room. 

“Here darling.” He holds out his wet fingers, dripping with a mix of saliva and your own arousal. “Suck.” He says. You take them in your mouth obediently, tasting the mix of arousal and saliva. The very idea that you're tasting him, that you're tasting his very being, makes your abandoned cunt clench around nothing, the nasty slurping sounds you make only fueling the arousal perfuming the air. At some point Fyodor had turned off the porn, and now the only sounds that fill the room are from the two of you. A different kind of music than that you're used to, a symphony of debauchery. 

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop, and you open your eyes. He smiles at you, all hazy eyes and spit slicked lips. “Good girl.” He says, and then shoves both fingers in your cunt. You arch off the couch at the abrupt intrusion, clenching down hard around his fingers with a scream. ‘Oh, oh god Fyodor!” You say, panting. He looks vaguely proud as he scissors you open, watching as you thrash around on his fingers, bucking desperately. 

The sound of the door slamming penetrates the haze, and you grip Fyodor’s fingers, trying to stop him. He just continues to fuck you open, grining all the while. 

“Man, fuck you Fyodor.” It's Osamu, looking less surprised and more annoyed. Fyodor just continues grinning as you moan on his fingers, drooling pussy on display. “I consider this a win then?” He says, smirking. Ah, another one of their competitions. You would pay more attention but your being fucked open by Fyodor’s long relentless fingers. You keen as he adds another one, gripping his arm with a nasty whine. 

Osamu speaks to Fyodor, but his eyes are fixed on you. “It's not over yet, you fucker.” He says, slamming his backpack down on the floor and sauntering over to you. “Name declares the winner. Deal?” Fyodor, now rubbing a thumb on your clit nods, holding out his other hand to shake. “Deal, that sound good darling?” You nod around your moans, not truly comprehending what that means. Osamu sends you a rather scary looking grin and pounces. 

They move you into a doggy position first, Fyodor replacing his fingers with his cock. You're already so close, and as you feel the large intrusion bully your walls apart you cum right there, your head falling against the couch cushions. “Oh, oh, oh god, ‘m coming!” You scream, drooling onto the couch. Fyodor grunts behind you. “You're tight.” He coos. Osamu grips your jaw, draggin you off the ouch to look at him. “So pretty too, just perfect aren't you.” His dick is already hard in his jeans, you can see the bulge as Fyodor begins to move, fucking you through the overstime. You whine in pain, the sharp pains of overstimulation mixing with the blinding pleasure they give you. Dazai chuckles. 

“We’re going to fuck you do good darling.” He says, running a gentle hand through your hair. “Make you feel our love.”

⋆｡ °✩

It's when you're three orgasms deep, and you're hung over the couch backwards, a dick down your throat and cum dripping from your pussy, that you maybe start to have second thoughts. Their stamina seems endless, and they bring to the edge relentlessly, their competitive natures making them drive you to orgasm after orgasm. The world is hazy at this point, and all you feel is pleasure, all you hear is their voices, all you want is them, them them. 

“Switch her around Osamu.” Fyodor says, his accent rough though the haze. You feel yourself hoisted up, and now you're folded into a mating press and Fyodor’s fat cock is bullying your walls again. Cum leaks out of all your holes, the loud squelching sound letting you know that you're thoroughly ruining Cecilia's favorite couch. You're covered in sweat, completely naked and makeup ruined, and to the boys you’ve never looked so pretty. They tell you at length, compliments showered on your exhausted form. 

And as you cum yet again, clenching around Fyodor’s dick with a weak cry, you feel so loved, so appreciated, and so optimistic. 

And then you bended into another position, Dazai’s dick lodged into your ass, Fyodor’s in your dripping cunt.

⋆｡ °✩

“So, which of us won anyway?” It's Dazai, and he sounds plenty exhausted. You sigh tiredly, holes dripping cum onto the carpet and exhausted. “Draw.” Is all you manage to pant out. 

Fyodor beside you chuckles. “I guess we’ll have to have a rematch then.” You're exhausted, but you feel your pussy clench tiredly at the mention of that. “Yeah.” You sigh out tiredly. The boys chuckle beside you, each pressing a kiss to your cheeks. 

“Love you Name.” You hear them whisper in your ear. You smile as you drift off the sleep. 

End Notes: I am actually a piano player, and every time I listen to classical pieces nowadays I feel really bad because I haven't been practicing lately because my piano teacher is taking a break because she had a baby. 

[asolareclipses]

“Isn’t she a beaut?”

“A what?”

“Gods Nico, you never know what i’m talking about.” Leo sighed, turning his attention away from the chariot he was just boasting about.

“Maybe because you never make any sense,” Nico rolled his eyes anticipating the next comment about to leave Leo’s mouth.

“Or…you’re just an old abuelo,” Leo failed to hold back his smirk.

Nico glared at him, he didn’t speak spanish but he’d heard that word enough to know what it meant. “Call me that one more time fire boy and you’ll wish you died the first time.”

“Holy smokes! Someone’s feisty today,” Leo raised his hands signifying a truce. “Anyways, moving back to the important things, just look at this masterpiece!” Leo gestured back to his creation.

As Nico’s eyes move to scan over the chariot, he had to try not to be visibly impressed. It was incredible. Each wheel had hundreds of gears all lined with celestial bronze and steel. The sides and rims danced with various contraptions, every piece was delicately crafted with the upmost detail. It looked as if it was built to withstand whatever may come in its way.

“You built this in a week?” Nico asked, hoping his awe wasn’t evident in his tone.

“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Perfect for the race don’t you think?”

Yeah? Nico almost sang his inner praises to Leo at that moment. But he knew if he were to boast Leo’s ego like that, he wouldn’t see the end of it for days.

“It’s not bad..” Nico spoke carefully.

Leo smirked, “Finally glad you decided to be on my team?”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Nico said. “You begged me for weeks and weeks on end until I said yes, just so you would leave me alone.”

“Hm, funny. I don’t remember that happening.”

“Leo-“

“Anyways- You said you had the horses taken care of?” Leo masterfully changed the subject.

Nico nodded with a sigh.

Leo stared at him, before looking around as if he were expecting something. “Well…where are they?”

“Right, you might want to step back.” Nico suggested.

“Step back why would I-“ Leo was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble, kicking up dust and small rocks. “Right that’s why,” he hurriedly stepped backwards.

The grass shivered and after a moment of rumbling, a bone popped out from the ground. It was then followed by another and another. Soon several bones came together forming two skeletal horses. They moved similar to regular horses, if regular horses had no skin or organs.

Nico stepped back, admiring his work. In the back of his mind he imagined the future lecture he’d receive from Will. ‘What did I say about unnecessary power usage?’ Still, looking at the horses, Nico figured it was worth it.

“Woah,” Leo smiled. “That’s so much cooler than a regular horse, or even a robot one.”

“More durable too, any attack and they’ll just reassemble.”

“Dude!” Leo was now practically jumping up and down, “we are so going to win this!”

Part of Nico wanted to join Leo in the excited jumping. But the other part of him thought that would be out of character; what this ‘character’ of himself was though, he didn’t know. Nico had struggled with displaying his excitement, every time he felt that burst of joy. That buzz of happiness. It reminded him of when he was younger, first arriving at camp with that same feeling. He wondered where that little boy had gone.

A horn blew, drawing Nico out of thoughts.

“That’s Chiron,” Leo said. “Time to head to the starting line.” A devilish grin appeared on his face that made Nico a little nervous. Clearly Leo’s chariot was armed with machinery that would even make the Stoll brothers jealous.

As they stood in the chariot at the starting line, Nico rethought all his life decisions. Why had he agreed to do this race again? At the time it seemed like the only way to get Leo to leave him alone, since he had been profusely begging Nico to team up with him every day. Now Nico couldn’t decide which one was worse, and annoying Leo or a brutal chariot race. Suddenly a cold chill ran down Nicos spine, he couldn’t place it but something was wrong.

Before he could dig deeper into this feeling, Chiron blew his horn again, signaling the beginning of the race. The chariot promptly took off, immediately blasting ahead with the upmost speed. Nico had to grip the railing just to not go flying off, struggling as the winds made it hard to keep his eyes open.

The Athena chariot tried to launch a net from behind them in an attempt to catch the chariot, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, the net came flying back at their chariot getting caught in the wheels and sending the campers into a panic. At the same time the Stoll brothers were shooting some contraption they’d made at the Ares cabin. When resulted in both chariots veering off track and into the woods.

As they continued to speed up, Nico watched as all the other chariots got farther and farther away. He’d began to think this was going to be a lot easier than he’d initially thought.

“Works just like a dream!” Leo yelled over the winds.

Nico nodded, pointing to the floating finish line, Chiron had decided the chariots needed to not just be fast but be able to account for height too. Of course for Leo that had been an easy task. For the others, well they had to hope their pegasuses were strong

Sooner than expected they were nearing the finish line, and Nico waited for something to go wrong. He was sure the others would catch up and give them a hard time, but when he looked back the other chariots were still lagging behind.

Then a hint of smoke began to fill the air, slowly becoming stronger. Nico looked around, the chariot was shaking now. A deep rumbling that shook his whole body. More smoke started pouring out from the golden edges, polluting Nico’s lungs.

Leo looked shocked, rushing around as he tried to find the culprit of the smoke. “I don’t get what’s wrong?”

A fire sprung up and danced along the rims of the chariot, Nico stepped away, coughing as his lungs begged for clean air. He looked at Leo with panic in his eyes at the same time Leo seemed to realize that Nico wasn’t immune to smoke.

“Oh gods what do we do?” Leo called out.

Turns out Nico didn’t need to answer that question because in a blast of light the chariot exploded, sending them both flying.

The world went black.

—

Why did every creation of his blow up? That’s what Leo wondered as he plummeted from the sky. He figured he would turn into a Leo pancake when he hit the ground, splat.

The idea would’ve made him laugh if he weren’t currently falling to his death. Leo could still see the flaming chariot above him, another masterpiece blown to pieces. Maybe that would be his legacy, the demigod who destroyed everything he made.

The wind was fast as he fell, blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. It was eerily familiar, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen from the sky. As he fell further, Leo tightly shut his eyes, expecting to hit the ground any second. But instead he felt something hit him. Well, less like hit and more like grab. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped out of his skin.

Jason had caught him, he was now face to face with him. Startlingly close. All Leo could see were his striking icy blue eyes. He felt Jason’s arms tightly secured around his waist, and he felt the breath of relief Jason sighed when he realized Leo was safely in one piece.

Why Leo obsessed over each of these small incriminate details, he would never say.

“Thanks superman,” Leo grinned nervously. He hoped the blush across his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

Jason glared at him as they began to descend to the ground. “Next time i’ll let you fall.”

Leo was about to make another comment when his heart dropped, “Nico.”

Jason’s eyes widened as he looked up at the chariot. They seemed to flicker across the sky, as he tried to locate the other chariot rider. “Oh gods.”

Splash.

Just in time Leo turned to see Nico plunge into the lake, Jason had been too far to reach him seeing as they’d somehow been blasted in two different directions.

Leo’s shirt was still smoking from the explosion and his bones felt like jelly, but it didn’t stop him from rushing to the lake as soon as they touched the ground.

Will had gotten there first, he’d always managed to get there first. He began dragging Nico from the water, a crowd of panicked demigods forming around them.

As soon as Nico was pulled to shore Leo stumbled his way over, pushing through the crowd. “Is he okay? Is he breathing? Oh gods this is all my fault.” He stuttered and tripped over his words as the guilt built up inside his stomach like rocks. He shouldn’t have made Nico join this stupid race, he should’ve known it would go wrong. Everything he did always went wrong.

“Leo, don’t say that.” Jason stepped forward putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

Leo wanted to believe him but the guilt was overpowering it consumed his mind.

He silently watched as Will hummed placing his hand on Nico’s chest. Leo didn’t know what he’d do if Nico didn’t wake up, but luckily he did. Shooting up, coughing and spluttering, Leo recognized the look of relief that flashed across Wills face.

Jason’s hand gripped Leo’s shoulder tighter as he remembered to breathe. Suddenly his adrenaline rush crashed and so did he. His knees went weak and he would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him, again.

“You okay?” Jason asked softly. A warm tone that felt delicate and strange, yet it reassured Leo every time he heard it.

Leo nodded, looking back at Nico who was smothered in a hug from Will. He seemed to be repeatedly telling Will he was okay, despite him being dripping wet with several burnt holes in his shirt.

Nicos seemed to search the crowd until he locked eyes with Leo, he figured Nico would be incredibly pissed off at him. But he wasn’t, his eyes flashed a look of concern before he mouthed you okay?

Leo nodded as convincingly as he could, overly aware of Jason’s warm presence behind him, being the only thing holding him up.

The crowd was dispersing as Will managed to pull Nico to his feet, draping his arm across his shoulders. “Both of you,” he looked towards Leo, “infirmary. Now.”

On the way, Jason did most of the walking, as Leo’s new jelly legs hadn’t regained their sense of feeling yet. His whole body was aching by the time they’d reached the infirmary. Turns out, being exploded hurts. Shouldn’t have been surprising as he’d been exploded before.

As Leo sat on the infirmary bed his mind was spinning. He thought through every piece of bronze, every gear, wondering what had gone wrong. He had double, scratch that, triple checked to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Yet something still went wrong, seemingly out of nowhere. He replayed when the fire broke out, despite his frantic waving and patting down of the fire it didn’t extinguish. The realization hit him like a semi truck.

“Greek fire,” he said out of nowhere while Jason and Will rushed around; checking that he and Nico weren’t severely injured.

“What?” Jason said, his hand freezing in place as he picked up a bandage.

Nico inhaled sharply, looking at Leo as if he immediately understood. After hanging out for so long Nico had learned how to understand whatever thought process Leo was on, “That’s what it was, that’s why it kept burning. Why was it in the chariot?”

“I don’t know,” Leo sighed. He racked his brain for any contraptions that would lead to the emergence of greek fire. But he was sure that it wasn’t built into his chariot at all. “I never used greek fire, I don’t get how it would just erupt like that…unless…”

Jason’s eyes widened, “Do you think someone put it there on purpose?”

Leo met his eyes, he knew an accusation like this was dangerous. It meant that someone intentionally sabotaged their chariot, in a way that could only be intended to kill.

“But why would someone try to hurt you with fire?” Jason asked.

Leo felt his heartbeat stick in his throat, “Maybe I wasn’t the one they were intending to harm.”

He looked over at Nico whose face was now unreadable.

“You’re saying someone tried to kill Nico?” Will asked, his tone laced with anger.

“That or they meant to injure him severely, I guess they didn’t account for the explosion preventions I had in place.” Leo replied.

“Explosion preventions?” Jason asked, his eyebrow tilting up in the way it always did when he was confused.

“Yeah, I figured with my track record i’d add an extra layer of protection. Something that would lessen the impact of a possible explosion. That’s why we went flying away and not…well everywhere.”

“First of all, that’s impressive.” Jason spoke, “Secondly, who would intentionally try to hurt Nico?”

No one answered. None of them could fathom the idea that someone in camp would deliberately do something like this. Leo grasped at straws to find meaning, to find an excuse as to why this happened. But there was nothing. He knew Nico had never done any harm to cause this, he’d been nothing but a hero. He thought that everyone knew that, that everyone should know that. So why did this happen?

“We should talk to Chiron,” Jason said, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.

—

Will was fuming. Almost literally. He was sure if he’d been Leo his whole body would be aflame. The idea that someone had targeted Nico in such a way, was impossible for him to swallow. His anger felt hot, it bubbled up like a volcano inside of him. He could feel it ready to erupt any second as he dug his nails into his palm.

Then a light touch pulled him from his inner turmoil. A cold hand had slipped its way between his fingers, releasing the tension. Will looked over at Nico and felt a wave of guilt, he hadn’t thought about how Nico must be feeling now.

Years ago Will had told Nico that he was welcome at camp, that no one had pushed him away. Now someone had tried to kill him.

His guilt was followed by fear. Will tightly squeezed Nico’s hand, pouring every ounce of assurance into the touch and praying in his mind that this situation wouldn’t influence Nico to run away again. Just the thought of Nico suddenly disappearing like he had years ago made his heart feel like it was being suffocated slowly. He had to remind himself Nico was okay, he was right by his side.

Explaining what had happened to Chiron was the easy part, it was Dionysus who was difficult.

“We must find this traitor at once!” Mr D. stood up slamming the table, vines began to crawl up from the floor and around the table legs.

Will had never seen him so mad. Of course, if it were anyone else he’d probably just shrug it off. But this was Nico. So Mrs D. was reasonably pissed.

“We have to handle this carefully,” Chiron said; his eyes were filled with a deep sense of sadness and disappointment. He too couldn’t imagine why someone had done this.

“Carefully?” Mr. D asked, his eyes glowed with a dangerous hue of purple. “I say we round everybody up and unrelentlessly interrogate them until the rat comes out.”

“We cannot tortue innocent campers in hopes of finding the culprit,” Chiron calmly explained.

“We can’t. I can.”

“Then you would be punished by several angry gods.”

Mr D. had no response this time, sighing as he sat back down. The vines following suite as they shrank back into the floorboards.

“I don’t understand who would’ve done this, and why now?” Jason said, his eyes seemed to be clouded in worries.

“Leo, is there anyway this could’ve been a prank taken too far?” Chiron asked, there was a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“I really wish it was, but there’s no way they couldn’t of known about the precautions. I added the explosion barrier last second. The greek fire must’ve been somewhere near the engine, whoever put it there wanted the chariot to catch fire and explode. Midair,” Leos voice was somber, he leaned listlessly on his elbows which set on the table.

Jason watched Leo carefully, his face seemed to analyze Leo’s every movement, every word. Will recognized his attentiveness.

Chiron sighed, “We will investigate this. Perhaps there is someone, something, whispering things to the demigods again.”

“We can talk to Clovis,” Will added. “If it’s something to do with dreams or visions he might be able to help.”

Chiron nodded, “Just be careful. I don’t know how whoever did this will react if they catch on that we are suspicious.”

Will nodded, he couldn’t help but notice how silent Nico had been. He seemed to be lost in thought. Will wish he could crawl into his brain and disintegrate all the negative thoughts.

It appeared Mr D. was also concerned, his face flashed with worry as he looked over at Nico.

“We’ll talk to Clovis tomorrow,” Will made the executive decision. “You two need rest.”

Jason agreed, not allowing Leo to protest by quickly grabbing him and dragging him out the door way. “Let’s go hotshot.”

It was dark, a cold breeze blowing through camp as Will and Nico walked; a blanket of silence lay between them. Nico seemed to be trapped inside his mind again, his eyes dancing with unspoken worries.

“You okay?” Will asked as softly as possible, reaching out to touch Nico’s shoulder.

Nico nodded, “I guess.”

Will frowned, “You guess?” He expected Nico to lie and hit him with a ‘I’m fine’ like he normally did.

“I’m not sure what to think to be honest.” Nico replied, he began chewing on his bottom lip; a nervous habit Will had taken note of several times.

“Yeah...” Wills voice was quiet, his racked his mind for the perfect thing to say, but came back with nothing.

The two of them kept walking as Nico slightly leaned into Wills touch, despite his uncertainty he still sought comfort.

“I’ll stay in your cabin tonight,” Will paused, “to protect you.”

Nico face spread into a smile, a smile that punched Will right in his stomach. He felt a sense of relief to see him smile, “Yeah i’m sure that’s the reason.”

“What?” Will raised his hands in false defense, “It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.”

“Uh huh, super convincing.” Nico’s voice was coated with sarcasm, which was a stark contrast to the smile that danced across his face.

“It’s an excuse that would hold up in court, you know i’m not a lawyer but I know these things-“

Nico cut him off by grabbing his hand, “Come on sunshine.” He tugged Will lightly towards his cabin, it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone. That’s not to say Will didn’t want to stay with him on his own accord, obviously it was a little bit for himself. But mostly for Nico, mostly.

—

“Gods Leo use your legs.”

“I can’t they feel like jello, my arms too, and my-my everything!” Leo whined as he let himself be dragged along by Jason.

“You sure you didn’t hit your head in the explosion too?” Jason feigned annoyance. He was intentionally bantering with Leo, trying to boost the mood. Anything that could distract him from the fact of a potential murderer in camp was good, and Leo was really good at distracting.

“I think the explosion hit everything,” Leo stumbled. Jason quickly caught him, snaking his hand around Leo’s waist. He hoped Leo couldn’t hear his heartbeat which was pounding so loudly in his ears.

“You’re clearly incapable of walking,” Jason sighed. He figured he was getting quite good at acting as he almost believed his own false annoyance. “Just let me carry you or at this rate we’re going to be eaten by harpy’s.”

Leo smirked, “If you insist.”

Leo was a light weight against Jason’s back as he locked his arms around Leo’s legs; and when Jason walked, Leo’s arms dangled from around his shoulders. Then with a sigh he rested his chin on the top of Jason’s head.

“Dang the weather is pretty nice up here,” Leo said, his hands absently drumming against Jason’s shirt.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jason replied, earning a small thump against his chest.

Leo paused as he noticed where Jason was headed, “Correct me if i’m wrong, but this does not look like the way to my cabin.”

“Well..” Jason almost panicked looking for any excuse, “I figure you need to be watched over. You know, with your jello legs and brain.”

“Aww,” Leo teased, “are you scared?”

Jason tried to bite back a smile when his lame excuse succeeded. “Yes, terrified.”

“Don’t worry Jace, I’ll protect you from the big bad scary Zeus statue.” Leo giggled as he tightened his arms around Jason.

Jason smiled, he didn’t say the real reason he’d wanted Leo to stay with him. He didn’t say it was because he worried about his safety, that he didn’t want him beating himself up with guilt. Or that he’d seen Will sneak into the Hades cabin and felt a sense of envy.

Jason contentedly carried Leo on his back into the cabin; and as they entered Leo seemed to shrink against Jason whispering, “He’s looking at me,” before bursting into giggles.

“Now you know how I feel every night,” Jason complained. He walked over to his bed, where he’d recently gotten a divider; placing it so that his view of the statue was obscured. When he reached the bed he turned and promptly dropped Leo onto his bed.

“Ouch,” Leo said, sprawling out on the bed with his eyes closed and tongue stuck out as if he were emulating roadkill.

“Looks like jello boy died, what a shame.”

Leo opened one of his eyes and when he saw Jason was still staring at him he closed it again; a grin began spreading across his face, though he’d tried to hold back.

“You leave me no choice,” Jason rubbed his hands together, creating a harmless amount of static electricity. “Clear!” He called out thrusting his hands towards Leo.

A small shock was produced and Leo sprung up falling onto the floor with a yelp, pieces of his curly hair stuck up in the static.

Jason burst into laughter, almost doubling over as his whole body shook.

“What the hades man,” Leo looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I resurrected you,” Jason said between giggles. He’d laughed so hard his eyes began to water.

Leo stood up, patting down his hair. “Okay, i’ve been resurrected before and it did not feel like that.”

Jason shrugged, “What can I say? I’m too good.”

Leo shoved him lightly, pretending to be mad although he was still smiling. “Whatever, because of that you’re sharing the bed.”

“Fine.” Jason pretended it was an inconvenience. In reality he was desperate to be near Leo, to be by his side in any way possible. As close as possible. Leo emanated this warmth in a way Jason had become addicted to. It was a warmth that filled his bones and soul completely and fully.

So when Leo curled up next to him, it took all of Jason’s willpower not to wrap his arms around him and bask in the warmth. Just being beside him had to be enough, yet still he yearned for the full closeness.

Soon he heard the soft breathing from Leo next to him, the moonlight from the window filtering in and sparkling my across his face. His eyelashes look so delicate in the light and the splash of freckles across his face started to resemble a constellation. Jason almost hoped that the moment would last forever; that tomorrow wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to face the harsh truth that someone in camp had tried to hurt his friends. He didn’t want to leave Leo’s side. Not again. The fear of losing him was always so strong because he’d lost him before, they’d both lost each other. Now they were together again and Jason prayed that they could stay that way.

But he doubted anyone was listening to that prayer.

(Part Two)

[connorstollenthusiast]

Strawberry fields.

Connor Stoll x F!reader

A/n : this a a re-Upload from my old account, ConnorStollFanpage. Soo, if you think you've read it you probably have, lol, sorry 😭

Word count - 632

You never particularly noticed Connor Stoll. The only thing you really noted about him, and his brother was that much like you, they were also known troublemakers around camp. And you have spent a considerable amount of time in the big house waiting around to get lectured by Chiron.

But this year, it felt like something had changed… It was weird all of a sudden Connor Stoll was attractive? When you walked into camp borders this year you expected change, you hadn’t seen anybody from camp for 9 months. But one week after arriving the same person was stuck in your head. Connor, why had you all of a sudden started seeing him like this?

You noticed yourself staring at him across the dining pavilion, offering your food up to the goddess of love, hoping that would maybe help him see you the same way you see him. But all your efforts seemed to go unnoticed, or maybe intentionally ignored. You really hoped it wasn’t the second option.

You found yourself weaving a flower crown out of strawberry vines, and dandelions, those were one of Connor's favorite flowers, you weren’t sure why he liked them so much but he was always picking them up and shoving them into his shorts pockets. It was a really stupid quirk of his you had noticed. You weren’t ever going to give him the flower crown, but it was fun to imagine. And fun to use your powers, and grow vines to use for crafts.

“What’re you doing y/n?” Connor, asked plopping down next to you.

“Working on a flower crown.” You hummed slightly, trying not to appear nervous, or make eye contact.

“That’s cool, can you teach me how to?”

“Sure, it's sorta difficult.” You mumbled, setting the half finished crown in your lap “it took me a while to learn”

“It can’t be that hard, it’s just putting some plants together.”

You snickered, picking your crown back up. “So, what you do first is measure your head with the vines.” you said, wrapping the vines around his head carefully.

“Ohh, okay..” He mumbled nervously, shifting in his spot slightly. You thought that you sorta overstepped with that, but you had to actually try ‘flirting’ with him, or all your efforts would be in vain.

“Then, what I do is I sorta just braid them together..It's hard to explain so just watch.” You smiled, showing him your technique. He plucked a few vines and tried his best to inmate what you were doing.. Except it wasn’t going as smoothly as you made it look, but he was trying.

“Y/n, are you almost done?”

“Yeah, I just needa tie it up.” You mumbled, carefully tying the crown together in the back. “Here, I'm done.”

“Oh, woah.. Yours is actually good.” he smiled, revealing the mess of a flower crown he had attempted to weave together.

You tried not to bust out laughing, it was a heep of strawberry vines messily wrapped together.. But Connor had made it, so that made the crown appealing to you. “Yours is….unique..”

“It's actually not horrible for my first try.” He snickered, looking at his own creation.

“Yeah, you’ll get better if you practice.” You laughed, placing your complet crown onto his head. “It looks good on you.”

“Does it?” he laughed, adjusting it on his head trying to get it to lay flat on his hair.

“Yeah it does.” You smiled, standing up from your initial spot on the ground. “Well- uh..Goodnight, Connor” you awkwardly smiled, waving goodbye.

“Uh..yeah, goodnight Y/n.” Connor said, fumbling with the crown watching you leave with a Stupid smile on his face. Gods, this was definitely going to be all he could think about for the next week.

[nabnab-official]

Boxy Boo's complicated origins and dark purpose

with boxy boo being added into the main game with chapter 3, i decided to talk about his origins as a character. most people know that he originates from project playtime, but his origins go even farther than that.

boxy boo was first teased before project was even announced. the first image is from one of mobs minecraft animations, from august 27th 2022, months before project was first announced. the second image is from the one year anniversary video, and you can see boxy's box next to huggys foot. at the very end of the video, a dark image of boxy's box can be seen, as well as some numbers, likely the date of oct 31, which is when project was first teased for real.

on october 31st 2022, project playtime was officially announced on the mob entertainment twitter. that wasn't the only thing announced here. inside this image was a code, a code that led to a FTP [file transfer protocol] server. this server was part of an arg that would lead up to project's release, called rowan stolls computer database. the server is closed now, but all the information has been archived via the wiki

the ARG begins with this video, the first find when the FTP server was unlocked. this was paired alongside security 01 and 02, 2 gifs of security footage of the playtime co. facility. the rest of the files were password locked. in this video, rowan stoll, the head of technology at playtime co., expresses concerns about there being possible nanny cams inside huggy wuggys eyes. this is the start of his skepticism towards playtime co. that come to light during this arg.

the second things unlocked started from an image posted by the playtime co. twitter account. this confirms boxy boo's creation date as a toy, which is during the 60s. featured in the image is a bunch of boxy boo toys being made by employees. using this image, people were able to find a code, along with the remainder of the codes hidden in the twitter accounts for leith pierre, stella greyber, and eddie ritterman. putting the code through an A1Z26 cipher yielded the results of "A_invenerunt_infernum", which translates to "they found it from Hell". this is referring to boxy boo, who will later be referred to as a hellspawn again in this arg. combining this code with the date 05/28/91 gives us our second video. in it rowan stoll backtracks on his previous statements, presumably not wanting to get in trouble for questioning playtime co. in this video, the password "Birth_place_11/28/67" can be found by listening quietly to the text to speech playing in the background. this password unlocks security footage 03.

playtime co. posted the employee safety rules video, which is related to the arg. the code "bcaebbefgd" could be found within this video, which leads to this twitter post by rowan. in the background you can see boxy hiding. apparently, playtime co. has been making rowan fix the puzzle pillars, revealing them for the first time. maybe this was his punishment for stirring up trouble.

the playtime co. twitter account posted a new image, one of the train at the station. at the bottom of the image, credit is provided to playtime-co.com. going to this website leads to an email address, which gives a phone number. when called, you are immediately and indefinitely put on hold, and a piano tune plays. around this time, rowan stoll posted about fixing the phone line, and adding the tune heard. using the piano notes heard in the tune itself gives the code "DEADFACEAFACADE", which can be translated to "Dead_Face_a_Facade". this is a password for a file called priv_doc01, which includes several things. a poster for boxy boo, a pinboard full of images, and a disciplinary note on patty hall. patty hall is a character mentioned in chapter 2, in the rejects room. patty hall sabotaged a batch of toys by messing with the paint machine. in the disciplinary note, its mentioned that patty was sent down to storage b to "receive further instructions". remember this, it will be important. the boxy boo poster contains a code, which unlocks rowan stolls third and final video log. in this video, rowan expresses distress, thinking that playtime co. is going to kill him for finding out too much. he confesses that he is going to upload everything he knows and has found, which is what this FTP server is. he also says that playtime co. "has something that eats people alive", which we know is boxy boo. rowan knew he was likely going to die, but put his last efforts into getting information about playtime co. out publically. deciphering the strange static heard at the beginning through a spectrogram gives the password "diaboli_intra_buxum", which translates to "devil inside the box". the initial password can be used to unlock boxy boo's blueprints, as well as security footage 04, which depicts the project playtime theater map.

on november 22nd 2022, the FTP database went offline, leaving the rest of what rowan uploaded unknown. the playtime co. twitter uploaded a new post, with a single image of a poppy flower and the message "I SEE YOU". each account that posted this image had letters hidden in their avatars and banners, each image containing broken morse code at the bottom. the morse within all the images translated to "caro est in aeternum", which means "the flesh is eternal". the letters in each accounts banner and icons gave 2 different codes. "OVIHPKNABALZQZ", and "Play fair. Row: <- Column: ^, Filler: X. Innovation is key." the answer was a play fair cipher, with innovation as the password. the cipher translated to "NOXFORGIVENESS", referring to rowan stoll. a new account was created on the FTP server, and using the information gathered, access was granted. the username was "no_forgiveness" and the password was "caro_est_in_aeternum" inside, was a singular file, titled "THIS_IS_WHAT_HAPPENS". showcased is the fate of rowan stoll.

it seems that playtime co. found rowans database, got rid of it, and replaced it with a message to anyone else who considers trying to expose or defy them.

just two days after the arg ended, on november 24th, the cinematic trailer for project playtime was released, and boxy boo was finally revealed. just a day later, a gameplay trailer for the game released. counting up till the release of the game, teaser images were posted, giving us even more of boxy.

even after projects release, boxy boo's story was not finished. over the course of project, 2 tapes were added into the game. the first introduces us to harley sawyer, a major player in the bigger bodies initiative. he is mentioned many times after this initial introduction, including in chapter 3 and the chapter 3 arg. in the first tape, harley sawyer talks about the bigger bodies initiative, whose intention was to replace workers with living toys. he believed this would cut down on lawsuits and losses, as well as take care of insubordinate employees. in the second tape, harley sawyer visits boxy boo for the first time. boxy boo is the first successful bigger body created as confirmed by harleys own words. harley says that they need to "tailor your [boxy's] appetite to flesh", and asks for an update on rowan stoll. this is obviously leading up to rowans fate in the arg where boxy killed him.

boxy boo appears several times after this, in restricted_restoration, being the monster that attacked thomas. you can hear the sound of his music box winding up before the attack, and his paw and roar when he actually attacks him. he also features in chapter 3, both as cutouts and murals, and in the hour of joy, as featured above. BUT WHAT IS BOXY BOO'S PURPOSE? boxy boo was the first successful bigger body, created in 1991. after his toy, created in the 60s, failed to become as popular as other mascots, harley sawyer found a new purpose for him. boxy boo's purpose is not to play with kids, or even be around people at all. his purpose is to kill insubordinate employees. he killed patty, and he killed rowan. this is why harley wanted him to learn to become accustomed to flesh. he wanted boxy to be hostile from the beginning. boxy was never meant to be around people. he was meant to have employees sent down to him to be eaten when playtime co. deemed them deserving of it. thats what happened to rowan and patty. the devil in the box ate them.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Ira Stoll

The real problem with the Holocaust is that it is “shutting down debate about Israeli treatment of Palestinians.”

That’s the argument getting respectful attention in a New York Times book review. The review lavishes praise — “conscientious,” “especially timely,” “concise and accessible” — on a book that applies the label of “knee-jerk Zionism” to the views of Jewish Holocaust survivors in displaced persons camps.

It’s hard to tell how much of the complaining about Israel and Zionism is from the book, The Holocaust: An Unfinished History, by Dan Stone, and how much is added by the Times book reviewer, staff critic Jennifer Szalai.

The book itself, as the reference to “knee-jerk Zionism” indicates, has its problems. A sentence from the introduction asserts, “It would take several decades for the events which accompanied the creation of the state of Israel, especially the Nakba, or Palestinian catastrophe, when Palestinians were expelled from their towns and villages to make way for Jewish settlers, to make its mark on Israeli intellectuals and the public.” Never mind that many of those Arabs fled on their own, hoping that the invading Arab armies would destroy Israel, and never mind that some Jewish officials at the time urged the local Arabs to remain.

Yet as the review notes, the “book was first published in Britain in January of last year — too early to include events from the last few months.” That doesn’t stop the Times reviewer from using the Holocaust as a platform to opine about the Israel-Hamas war.

“Prominent historians have decried the misuse of ‘Holocaust memory’ by politicians to justify Israel’s bombing of Gaza after Hamas’ Oct. 7 attacks,” the Times reviewer writes, hyperlinking to a Nov. 2023 letter from a motley collection of far left academics accusing Israeli leaders of “promoting racist narratives” and blaming Israel for “seventy-five years of displacement, fifty-six years of occupation, and sixteen years of the Gaza blockade.”

[nerdywriter36]

Top 5 Jeremy Stolle performances!!!!

I’m telling you now, these are going to look very similar to @brendadaaedestler’s answers, we watch basically all bootlegs together and have very similar tastes 😂

1. Jeremy Stolle, Julia Udine, Paul A. Schaefer - March 20, 2023 (bootleg is not public, so I can’t provide a link, I’m sorry!) - I was not present at this show, but @brendadaaedestler was, meaning I heard all about it. There were some hiccups in the show (ie. some tech breakdowns in first lair), but Jeremy handled it with such grace, as always, and he made some choices that I love that he hadn’t made in a LONG time. Just a fantastic performance.

2. The Stolleboot, courtesy of @cowardtranslation - this is a beautiful creation with Jeremy Stolle in every role that he has ever played. It’s perfection, he really carried that show, let me tell you.

3. Jeremy Stolle, Emilie Kouatchou, John Riddle - 2021 - top-tier cast. Emilie may not be my favourite of the closing Christine’s (which isn’t saying a ton, I still love her portrayal), but she was just magnificent with Jeremy, who, as always, gave a brilliant performance. Again, not a public bootleg, so I can’t link it.

4. Jeremy Stolle, Emilie Kouatchou, Jordan Danica - 2022 - this bootleg gave birth to bald Jeremy, as seen here. That’s enough for me to love it.

5. I’m using this audio for this, but any recent performance with Jeremy and Elizabeth Welch over the period that they’ve been dating. The chemistry is just out of this world.

there are SO many other great performances from him that I couldn’t possibly name the all, but those are the big 5 for me! thank you for the ask!!

[poppy-playtime-lore]

UPDATED ROUGH TIMELINE!!!

Masterlist of posts (ongoing)

1930-

Factory was founded by Elliot Ludwig

Molly Ludwig divorces Elliot Ludwig.

1950-

Poppy Playtime Dolls creation

1955-

Thomas Clark joins Playtime Co

1960-

Make a friend machines invention

1961-

Invention of the toy Bron

1966-

Invention of the Boxy Boo toy

1979-

Invention of the Candy Cat toy

1984-

Invention of the Huggy Wuggy toy

1985-

Invention of the Kissy Missy toy

1988-

Rowan Stoll fixes the puzzle pillars

-----

Bigger Bodies Initiative

1991-

1006 creation

Patty Hall received disciplinary action

Giant Huggy, Giant Kissy, Giant PJ, Giant Boxy, as well as other small experiments such as the Wuggies and Mini Huggies where made.

Thomas Clark 1199 experiment- Bron the dinosaur.

Giant Mommy long legs

Toy Mommy longlegs

Marcas Brickley Reports seeing PJ Pug-A-Pillar

Rowan Stoll reports Huggy Wuggy staring at kids

Rowan Stoll takes back his statement

Rowan Stoll plans to expose the factory

Rowan Stoll is eaten by Boxy Boo

1992-

Huggy Wuggy escapes the factory and is later retrieved.

1993-

Boogie Bot Toy invention

1995-

Kissy Missy relocation tape.

-----

The Incident

10 years later-

Events of chapters 1 and 2.

[the-friendliest-freak]

Poppy Playtime - Headcanons and Theories (and both combined)

The regular-sized toys (like the small Huggy from the Project Playtime trailer) were made from animals, the slightly bigger ones (like Bunzo and the Huggies from Whack-A-Wuggy) were made from orphans, and the big toys (Huggy and Mommy Long Legs) were made from employees

Rich becomes Huggy, Patty becomes Kissy. Since there were rules against employee relationships, and Patty and Rich were of a very small group to break that rule, they figured it’d be easier to use them for those roles rather than attempt to induce romantic affiliation with other subjects.

Marie joined Playtime Co because she liked the idea of being a part of so many children’s upbringings by providing them with the toys that would shape them

The human-to-toy transformation process isn’t magical or a soul-transference - the human bodies themselves are used, and they are consequently conditioned and brainwashed to act in-character (think of the movie Tusk, or don’t, it’s terrifying)

The toys were intended to be weapons of war, a mix of Trojan Horse and sleeper agent

The larger toys, like MLL, have prosthetic attachments, which is why they don’t bleed in some places but do bleed in others

I like to imagine each primary character had their childhood “stolen” from them in a sense.

Stella was a young girl during World War 2, and her desire to be a child again mostly originates from wanting a do-over

Avery grew up in a small, very religious town, with an alcoholic father and a distant mother. The local priest was very…fond of him. He still suffers Catholic guilt on a day to day basis.

More of a theory to explain why he has no last name but: Rich himself is an orphan, that’s why he’s somewhat reluctant to say what he’s doing is “for the orphans” - he either knows people would expect him to empathise, or he’s embarrassed about admitting it. Also the movie he references in chapter 2 is part of a series known for focusing on orphans (I have an alternative theory here that’s more ‘out there’). The fact that he has no last name at his age implies that he was never adopted at all

Jimmy Roth’s a self proclaimed “mama’s boy” and his father left for milk when he was 14 and never came back. He’s shit at spelling and grammar but super super good at math

With Patty as Kissy - Kissy’s lesser amount of control over her movements when compared to Huggy or MLL isn’t due to anything happening during the creation process. Patty struggled with motor control, and having longer limbs and a heavier head did not help with that

Avery has a massive acne problem. He doesn’t pick or touch his face, and he does all the correct things, he doesn’t know why he still breaks out

Rich struggles with regulating his volume. He knows there’s a volume rule, he just never knows how loud he’s being.

The Player was a scientist

Alternatively, The Player is a complete nobody

Due to the car crash sounds found in the game files, car models being found, as well as Rowan Stoll’s reference to Playtime Co sabotaging his car to make it crash, the Player might have suffered a similar fate, which is why they weren’t around when all the employees went missing - they were probably at the hospital recovering

Rich and Avery aren’t box-packers, but something higher-up. Think about it - Rich says that getting sent to the Reject Warehouse was a demotion, but he’s the only one working here and was in charge of managing calls to retailers, operating heavy machinery, and cataloguing failed prototypes - completely solo. If that’s a demotion, then he must’ve had a more complicated job than box-packer (I can’t imagine him being a manager though to be honest, especially with him referring to the higher-ups as separate from him and Avery, so who knows what he might’ve been?)

Avery knew a few magic tricks, but since he didn’t go to parties often there was rarely a good time to show them off…until working at Playtime Co. Rich has no idea how magic tricks work, so he’s always insanely impressed with whatever Avery shows him. It always cheers him up.

Playcare was founded around the same time Huggy was created (since Rich talks about how the warehouse has been flooded with orphanage junk recently in the same tape in which Avery asks where the Huggy boxes are being kept - if both of them have been working there for a while, as the tape implies, then Avery would know where they are kept if the tape takes place a while after Huggy’s creation. Judging by the fact that he doesn’t know, and Rich’s complaints about the “program”, then Playcare was likely founded around the time Huggy was created)

Out of Rich and Avery, Avery’s the one with zero chill. He just never shows it

Due to only the female toilets and female locker rooms being modelled in an unused map from chapter 1, the Player could likely be female (since it implies that those rooms would’ve been the only ones you would have entered)

Rich is autistic

[pandahelper01]

Unique Art: The Mastery of Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat Art

Introduction

Are you captivated by the allure of unique art? Look no further than the mesmerizing creations of Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat Art. Jeff Stoll, a visionary artist, has managed to merge his passion for Unique Art with his innate talent, creating awe-inspiring works that leave viewers in awe. Through his expert craftsmanship, Stoll has established himself as an authority in the art world, gaining the trust and admiration of art enthusiasts worldwide. In this article, we will delve into the world of Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat Art, exploring his mastery and the essence of uniqueness apparent in his creations.

Unique Art: The Smorgasbord of Creativity

Jeff Stoll's passion for unique art shines through his mind-bending creations. Each piece showcases his lively imagination, blending colors, textures, and shapes in a mesmerizing dance. His artworks resonate with a distinct sense of individuality, offering viewers a refreshing break from conventionalism. From his bold use of vibrant hues to his unconventional choice of materials, Stoll's art challenges the norm, encouraging viewers to embrace the extraordinary. By seamlessly merging traditional and contemporary techniques, he creates a harmonious fusion that awakens the senses and ignites curiosity.

Jeff Stoll's Art: An Oasis of Expertise

Jeff Stoll's prowess as an artist stems from his years of dedication and honing his craft. With unyielding determination, he has mastered a multitude of art forms and techniques, constantly pushing the boundaries of his creativity. From painting and sculpting to digital art, Stoll fearlessly explores various mediums, infusing his distinct style into each composition. Stoll's expertise extends beyond his technical skills; it transcends into his innate ability to evoke emotions through his art. By delving into the human experience, his creations strike a chord with viewers on a deep and personal level. Whether it's the striking intensity of his brushstrokes or the intricate details of his sculptures, Stoll's art captivates and leaves an indelible mark.

Blue Kat Art: A Tapestry of Colors and Stories

Blue Kat Art, a collection of Jeff Stoll's remarkable creations, serves as a testament to his artistic journey. These artworks offer a glimpse into the artist's soul, inviting viewers to embark on their own introspective exploration. Each piece in the collection is a unique reflection of Stoll's creative process, showcasing his ability to craft immersive narratives through his brushstrokes.

Within the Blue Kat Art collection, viewers witness the interplay of light and shadow, the dance of colors, and the intricate details meticulously infused into every stroke. The artworks evoke a myriad of emotions, leaving a lasting impression and provoking introspection in the beholder.

Experience the Uniqueness

Immerse yourself in the world of Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat Art and experience the magic of unique art. Each piece tells a story, inviting you to delve into the depths of your imagination and explore the limitless possibilities of creativity.

From vibrant abstract paintings that ignite the senses to captivating sculptures that defy the laws of gravity, Stoll's art offers a Threadless Store sensory feast for art enthusiasts. Allow yourself to be transported to a realm where boundaries do not exist and imagination runs wild.

In Conclusion

Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat Art sets a new standard for unique art, showcasing his mastery, expertise, authority, and trust in the art world. Through his unwavering dedication, Stoll has crafted a collection that captivates and mesmerizes viewers, leaving them yearning for more. Embark on an artistic journey like no other and immerse yourself in the vibrant world of Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat Art. Experience the sheer uniqueness that his art offers, allowing your imagination to transcend the confines of the ordinary. Let Stoll's creations ignite your passion for the extraordinary and awaken the artist within you.

[certainmusic]

imaginative creations

Discover a world of captivating and eclectic artwork that transcends boundaries and sparks imagination. Our store is a haven for art enthusiasts seeking a diverse range of themes, from enchanting Holiday art to striking Dark Art. With a variety of options including Clothing and Mature art, there's something for everyone to explore and adore.

Jeff Stoll's Blue Kat on Redbubble offers more than just art and clothing; it provides a gateway to a world where individuality, creativity, and quality craftsmanship converge. By investing in these unique pieces, you not only elevate your personal spaces and style but also contribute to the flourishing of independent artists. unique prints

[delilah-briarwood]

pink kryptonite moodboard!! (witchcraft au if you want? :D)

This is So Late but a Pink Kryptonite Witch AU moodboard!!

[givemea-dam-break]

I am gonna apologize in advance. Would you wanna write a Connor Stoll x daughter of Poseidon!Reader with prompts 5, 12, 16, 37, 50 from your angst prompts? 👀 (I love me some good angst, but you can always yeet some of the prompts if you feel like it won’t work or something)

a/n: um of course i want to! this is connor we're talking about, and i also love angst but don't worry i'll try and use these prompts as best i can :))) Warnings: angst Words: 1.2K Prompts: "Is this how little you think of me?" "Are you going to rip my heart out again?" "What if I love you?" "I made a mistake coming here." "Do you ever mean the things you say?" Female reader

The water swirls around your feet gently, brushing your bare legs but leaving no trace, just like usual. The familiarity of the water is reassuring, and it's almost like you can hear your father's voice within it, telling you that everything will eventually be okay and that you'll push through like you always do. You know he isn't, the gods don't tend to speak to their mortal children, especially not the second favourite. Who would speak to them when the favourite exists or, more specifically, when Percy Jackson exists? You love Percy, you really do, but it's often hard to be stuck in his shadow. Even your father openly prefers him which, for one, is messed up seeing as parents shouldn't have favourites, and for two, is a hurtful reminder for everything you're trying to forget. There was a guy, once, who completely understood how it felt to be overshadowed. His older half-brother was a big-shot, too, and everyone looked up to him. Well, that was before he turned into the father of the gods, Kronos. Before all of that, Luke Castellan had been Connor Stoll's version of Percy Jackson. It was one of the things that drew you and Connor together; the fact that you both had so much potential but had no opportunity to show it because of your more popular older siblings. Half siblings. Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore. Kicking up water, you watch as the splash morphs into a horse of your own creation that gallops over the seafoam and sand before disappearing back into the water, becoming one with it again. You smile faintly, enjoying the warmth creating things brings. The sand and water beneath your feet are cold, but they're just as soothing as the warmth. "Y/n? Is that you?" Your bones seem to stiffen, locking into place. That voice. That gods damned voice. How didn't you hear him coming? "Yeah," you say, keeping your voice steady. "What do you want?" "I didn't realise you'd be here. I was just coming for some peace." You almost scoff. "Is that how little you think of me? You've forgotten that I spend every available night here?" Connor comes to stand next to you and it takes all of your energy not to look at him. Of course, the first day you spare a single thought for him is the day you speak to him again. The first time in months. "Like I said, I was just coming for some peace." He takes a deep breath. "But we should probably talk." "About what?" you demand. "You ended things last summer, so are you going to rip my heart out, again? Finally give me the reasons why you broke up with me so suddenly, right before I left for school?" His hesitation is all you need as an answer. "I want to talk because I'm not sure I made the right choice." Your heart almost stops completely. You finally look at him and it's strange not seeing him from the corner of your eye like you've been doing for the summer so far. He looks exactly the same as he always does, with his mop of brown curls, freckled skin, brown eyes that glow golden in the light of the setting sun. He's already looking at you, and you force yourself to look away to the sea, again, silently begging for any help from your father. You don't expect it to come. It doesn't. "I'm not going to be your emotional support, again," you say. "Luke is gone now, so what we feel is completely different. I can't help you anymore." "That's not what I want," Connor says and you can hear the waver in his voice. "Gods, no, I don't want you to help me with that." "Then what, Connor?" The water swirling around your feet halts, wrapping around your legs like a cocoon, stabilising you in case you fall. "What makes you think that it wasn't the right choice? The fact that I still have no idea why it happened a year later? The fact that I almost didn't come back this year, putting not only my life in danger but also my family's? Gods, even if you'd done it at least a week before, that would've been so much better. I spent this last year wondering what I did wrong." "I never told you why because I didn't even know myself. It just didn't feel right at that point in time." Your fists

clench by your sides. "And you couldn't tell me that?" He sucks in a sharp breath. "I regret it more than you could imagine, now. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't hesitate to change what happened." "So what, by your definition, would the right choice be, if that was wrong?" You stare at the glittering water, trying to will some of its calm to filter into yourself, but it doesn't seem to work. Your blood feels like it's boiling, and you've never wanted to punch something more than you do right now. "What if I love you, still?" he says. "Would that sound like the right choice to you?" "No." There's no hesitation, despite how much it feels like you're ripping out every single piece of your heart by saying it. "No, it wouldn't sound right at all." "Why not?" "Because you broke my heart, simple as that. You tore the damned thing out, and now you expect me to accept that you still love me, apparently? Do you even mean the things you say? I could've sworn that you told Katie how free you feel without me. Would I be right in saying that happened?" Once again, you look over at him and can't help but feel triumphant at the flush of embarrassment that has appeared on his face. "Don't just stand here and lie about these things when you know I'd figure them out. I might not be a child of Athena, but I'm sure as hell not dumb." "I never said you were," Connor says. "And, I'm not lying. Y/n, I do still love you, and I hate myself every time I think about when I ended things between us. I just -" "I made a mistake coming here." You walk backwards, swiping your shoes off the patch of dry sand you left them on, risking one last look at Connor. He's watching you intently, despair written plain as day on his face, but he deserves it. After what he did, you don't care what happens to him. You're not anyone's first priority; not your father's, or Chiron's, or the camp's. Not even Connor's, but you have to be your own, and you're not going to let yourself go through that pain again. "Don't go," he says, daring to reach out. "Please, let's just talk this through." You stumble away from his outstretched hand, glaring at him. "I hope that one day, you feel exactly what I felt when you broke my heart just so you know exactly what you did."

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

Its almost 100% a lie that the gods “don’t have DNA” and it was probably spread by Chiron specifically so that the demigods would stop having a crisis about the incest they and their godly families commit on the regular.

Don’t forget that:

-Percy has Poseidon’s sea green eyes.

-All of the Ares kids have the same tank build and beady black eyes that Ares has.

-Luke is a blond copy of Hermes (and also looks like Apollo); the Stoll’s are identical to Hermes.

-The Hermes children and all of the children of minor gods have the same facial features.

-Piper has Aphrodite’s eyes.

-Leo has Hephaestus’ curly hair.

-With the exception of Leo, all of the Hephaestus children are supposed to be “ugly” like him.

-Will is a carbon copy of Apollo.

All of Athena’s children are blond haired/gray eyed but they technically don’t count since they’re imaginary and don’t share DNA with either their mortal parent or their godly one due to the nature of their creation and birth.

If the gods really don’t have DNA then dating within your cabin wouldn’t be frowned upon because (with a few rare exceptions on the mortal side) most demigods aren’t blood related and only see each other during the summer for Camp so they aren’t “raised like siblings.”

[wetsteve3]

Martin Stolle was a talented young engineer and BMW employee, who dissolved driving Duglas motorcycles, a British brand. After the First World War, however, something that applies to all other German manufacturers, BMW was prohibited from producing aircraft engines. 

The brand survived mainly thanks to high volume 4 cylinder units designed for trucks, tractors and boats. However, the company needed a new product, sustainable to secure its future.

The solution? Stole states a genius idea - the development of a 500-cubic 2-cylinder engine with air cooling and opposite cylinders. A machine he designs when he is only 34 years old. The engine is characterized by extremely smooth operation, and the initial design generates 6,5 hp at 4500 vol / min.

At this stage, however, BMW does not have its own motorcycle production. The engine is delivered to various brands under the name ′′ Bayern-Kleinmotor ". The ag regatta finds an application in the Helios, Bison, SMW (Stockdorfer Motoren Werke), Corona and Hoco, but the most successful is in the bay-kits of the based in Nuremberg Victoria-Werke. In particular, in the KR 1 model, which is manufactured in over 1000 specimens.

Two years after the start of the production of ′′ his engine ", Martin Sole leaves BMW and starts working in Victoria-Wekre. But his legacy leads to the creation of BMW's first motorcycle, the legendary R 32, logically driven by a boxer engine. Tradi-nation, which is still key to BMW Motorrad today.

This photo was taken in 1920 On it you see the Mar-tin Sole itself on the Victoria motorcycle, driven by the M 2 B 15. developed.

[wheel-of-fish]

Saturday, Jan. 9, 2021 • 9 p.m. EST: STOLLEBOOT

We’ve often joked about wanting to see jack-of-all-trades actor Jeremy Stolle in a one-man performance, and our resident video editor @cowardtranslation​ has basically made it happen. I can hardly think of a better way to celebrate my 75th stream(!) than with this one-of-a-kind creation: a performance starring JEREMY STOLLE as the Phantom, JEREMY STOLLE as Raoul, JEREMY STOLLE as Passarino, and JEREMY STOLLE as Piangi.

As always, stream will be on cy.tube and shy anons are welcome. Link and password will be posted here at 8:45.