#also the one with the least consistent hair and beard

[navybrat817]

Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Emerald Hallow Chapter 1

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on.  He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century.  But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas.  He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.  

**plus size reader 

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

Next chapter

Steve prided himself on his self control. He was a Beta before the super soldier serum, and when his body went through the transformation so did his classification. Not only did he have to learn how to operate his new body but as a new Alpha he had to learn how to handle the intense emotions and instincts that came with it. He’d been able to work through most of it without endangering any Omegas along the way. Anytime a moment of weakness chipped at his psyche the words of Dr. Erskine would rattle his brain: “…you must promise me that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier. But a good man.” Good men, good Alphas, did not attack or take what they wanted from others. Steve was well aware of the plight of Omegas in the world. If there was one thing that had stayed consistent throughout his long life it was that Omegas were still considered “less” by many, something to be bred and fulfill Alphas’ needs. He didn’t feel this way, but knew many others did.

After returning the Infinity stones he had gone to see Peggy in the past for closure, but did not stay. As much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t. He loved her, but she was also an Alpha, and same classification couples never worked out.  Bucky needed him, and a promise of “’til the end of the line” was a promise. He had helped transition Sam into the Captain America role and quickly retired, only advising on missions rather than taking the lead. He tried to reintegrate back into regular civilian life, finding his next adventure. He wanted to move on from Peggy and find an Omega to settle down and have a family with.

So far he had no luck. He had started going by his middle name, Grant, and had grown out his beard and hair again so he wasn’t as recognizable as “Captain America” anymore. The dates he’d gone on had been unsuccessful. Omegas were hard to come by nowadays, and to find one willing to even go on a date was even harder. He felt like he was being a gentleman, not expecting anything from them other than to get to know them and see if it was worth pursuing, but he could feel the anxiety and tension dripping from their scents every time. He couldn’t blame them, but it also made him feel like the magic or allure of a great romance that he was looking for to replace his feelings for Peggy was a pipe dream.

One late Autumn night as he left Bucky’s apartment and headed home he smelled something that made him skid to a stop. Amongst the carved pumpkins and crisp Autumn air was something tantalizing, mouth-watering, and made the hair on the back of his neck raise in anticipation. His body moved towards the smell without him even realizing, his nose held high as he followed the scent down a block and into an old fashioned jazz club. It reminded him of the old dance halls of the 1940s, a live band playing on a stage with tables skirting the walls, making a small circle in the middle for couples to dance. There were vintage Halloween decorations lining the walls and the bar.  He made a mental note to tell Bucky about this place as the scent grew stronger and he blindly walked toward the stage.

“My lovelies!” A drag queen’s deep voice boomed into the microphone. She was dressed in an extravagant vampire costume, and as Steve looked around he noticed almost everyone was dressed in some type of Halloween themed costume or vintage clothes.  “Thank you for coming to tonight’s Autumn Jazz Fest!  Last but certainly not least, is our very own…Emerald Hallow!” The drag queen gave a great flourish with her arm and the curtain behind her opened to reveal the singer. Steve’s heart stuttered as the Alpha in him awoke. She was the scent he followed.  An unmated Omega.  The singer was short and plus size, her voluptuous curves slightly jiggling as she sauntered up to the vintage looking microphone.  She wore a long, flowy, shimmering velvet black dress with sheer lace sleeves that opened wide at her wrists with tassels swaying as she swung her arms, tattoos peeking out from the lace.  The neckline plunged down deep between her large breasts, giving the audience quite the view.  Her long nails were pointy and painted black, gently twisting the tassels as she adjusted the microphone to her height.  She had dyed emerald green hair that was long and finger-waved with two large victory rolls atop.  She wore gold earrings that had deep red hearts with what looked like blood dripping from them, black lipstick and sharp cat-eye eyeliner.  The black lipstick made her teeth look striking as she smiled seductively when the audience clapped for her.  Steve swore under his breath.  She was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

“Happy almost-Halloween, my pretties!” she greeted them, some people in the audience whooping and hollering for her.  Steve could feel a growl rumble in his chest at the attention she was getting from others, and mentally chastised himself for losing his composure.  “Would you like to hear some spooky tunes?”  Some more clapping and whooping made her smile wider.  “Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you…so needy,” she teased the audience, winking at someone off to the side.  Steve moved closer to the stage, just off to the side as the band behind her started playing.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, opening them again as her body started to move to the beat.  “They say that I’m a witch, and that I weave a spell.  Well…”

Emerald danced with her hips and shoulders like singers of old would.  Her scent became heavier to Steve as she did something she obviously loved, and it made his Alpha instincts scream at him to claim her.  He sat himself in a chair at one of the nearest tables, needing to hide his growing erection.

She held out the last note, her voice ringing out as the band hit a big chord at the end and she raised her arms.  The audience cheered loudly, the couples who had been dancing stopped to join in on the applause.  Emerald bowed and acknowledged the band behind her.  Steve clapped and watched her closely.   He was clocking all the Alphas in the audience, making note of the ones who were unmated and watching her like he was.  It made him feel like a creep, but something deep within him was not willing to just walk out and go home.  He was stuck to the spot, and would wait all night if he had to just to get a moment with her.  

She sang a few more songs then suddenly pulled out a chair from behind the piano.  “I’ve got one more for you tonight,” she said.  The audience whined loudly.  “Aaaww, are you gonna miss me?” she teased, sticking her lip out sadly.  She smirked as she set the chair in the middle of the stage and took the microphone out of the stand to freely walk around.  “I’m gonna need a big, strong Alpha volunteer,” she said in a low, seductive voice.  As her eyes swept the crowd multiple loud voices yelled out, hands raising and Alphas standing up from their chairs.  Steve stayed seated, desperately wanting her to choose him but not wanting to come off that way.  He decided to let his instincts take over for just a moment and let off a pheromone scent of himself towards her.  As her eyes continued to look out at the crowd they subtly widened and her back stiffened as her eyes instantly went to him.  Her eyes flashed as she gazed at him, and her smirk deepened.  Steve felt like the air between them was buzzing as he held her gaze, not daring to look away.

“You,” she pointed at him and then curled her finger, gesturing to him to come up.  Steve slowly got up and followed the stairs up to the stage.  There was a chorus of disappointed noises mixed with clapping from the audience as he approached her.  “Take a seat, handsome,” she said, patting the top of the chair.  Steve sat on the chair and looked up at her, memorizing every feature of her face.  “What’s your name?” she asked, standing closer to him and holding the microphone to his face.

“S–Grant,” Steve said, clearing his throat after nearly slipping up on his name.

Emerald eyed him but her smile never faltered.  “Grant.  Everybody say ‘Hello Grant!’”  She held the microphone out to the audience who chanted back at her in greeting him.  “And what do you do, Grant?”

“Consulting,” Steve said automatically, a polite smile on his face as he warred with himself not to reach out and touch her.

“How vague…” Emerald said cheekily, raising her eyebrows and making the crowd laugh.  “It’s alright, keep your secrets, handsome,” she said as she walked behind him then ran her hand over his shoulder and down his chest, her chin resting on his opposite shoulder, making them cheek to cheek.  “I like a man who is mysterious…” 

Steve let out a shuddering breath as the jittery energy he felt from her touching him flowed through his veins.  His shoulders and chest felt like they were doused with ice water where she touched him, and his cheek warmed as he blushed with her so close.  The Alpha howled at him to take her, right there in front of everyone, making his hands shake as he quickly folded them together and covered his crotch with his entwined fists.

“Can I sing this last song to you, Grant?” she said, her lips slightly grazing his ear, her hot breath making him shiver.  Steve didn’t trust his voice so he slightly looked towards her and nodded.  “Thank you,” she said, then moved away and turned to the band.  “Shall we, lovies?”

“We shall!” the band called back to her, then counted themselves in.  The melody started into a song Steve actually recognized from some music Sam had recommended to him.

Emerald walked towards the edge of the stage where Steve had walked up and then turned towards him sharply.  “Well it’s a marvelous night for a moondance with the stars up above in your eyes,” she sang, her shoulders keeping the beat.  “A fantabulous night to make romance ‘neath the cover of October skies,” she continued, twirling around and turning towards the bass player behind her, giving her a wink before facing Steve again.  “And all the leaves on the trees are falling to the sound of the breezes that blow.  You know I'm tryin' to please to the calling of your heartstrings that play soft and low.”  She stepped slowly towards him, her eyes never leaving his face.  “And the night’s magic seems to whisper and hush.  You know the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush!”  The band suddenly picked up, the sound swelling around Steve.  Emerald smiled widely.  “Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”  She quickly closed the distance between them and leaned down, her hand reaching out and cupping his jaw, making him move toward her.  Steve’s eyes widened.  “Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love?”  She leaned forward as she held his face and nuzzled her nose against his nose.  As the chorus ended she released him and turned, jutting her hips towards him as they rocked to the beat.

“Well I wanna make love to you tonight, I can’t wait til the morning has come,” she sang, looking over her shoulder at him.  He shifted in the seat, his pants feeling even more tight.  “And I know now the timing is just right and straight into my arms you will run,” she walked behind him again, her hand doing as it had done before but this time running down his arm and squeezing his bicep.  “And when you come my heart will be waiting to make sure that you’re never alone.”  She walked around him again until she faced him, then sank down into his lap.  “There and then all my dreams will come true dear, there and then I will make you my own.”  Steve’s hands gripped her hip and her knee to keep her planted on his lap, his hands still shaking at the close proximity and at getting to finally touch her even just a little.  She wrapped her free arm around his shoulder to keep herself upright.

“And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside,” her nails gently scraped against the scent gland on his neck, making him gasp and his mouth drop open as he watched her.  “And I know how much you want me that,” she winked at him, bringing her face slightly closer to his, “you can’t hide.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together.  He was sure his face was showing nothing but pure desire right now, and couldn’t find it in himself to care.  His grip on her tightened and he swallowed thickly.

“Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”  Her fingers moved up and ran through his hair, scratching his scalp, causing his eyelids to flutter shut at the massage.  “Can I just make some more romance with a-you…” she held the note out as she pulled him closer, this time making them nose to nose.  The audience was whooping and hollering again, a chant of “Kiss him!” coming through the crowd as the music paused to build tension.  She stared Steve down, her eyes flickering to his lips once then back up to his eyes.  Steve was breathing heavily, waiting to see what she would do.  After a long beat she dipped her head and kissed the side of his mouth, just out of reach of his lips.  The audience was a mix of cheers and disappointed groans as she pulled away and licked her lips as she looked at him again before lifting the microphone back up to her mouth.  “My love,” she sang the last line softly, and as the band finished with a jazzy ending she rested her forehead against his forehead as she caught her breath.  Steve didn’t want it to end, holding her firmly against him as the music ended and the audience applause nearly deafened him.  He didn’t want this bubble to burst, this magical moment to end, and yet his hands slipped away when she shifted to stand from his lap.  

Emerald adjusted her dress and stood then took his hand and helped lift him from the chair, holding his hand up in hers high and then gesturing with their joined hands to bow.  Steve bowed with her and plastered a polite smile on his face as he watched her smile widen at the crowd.  “Whoo, is it hot in here or is it just me?” She joked, making everyone laugh again as they continued to clap.  “Everybody give it up for our lucky man, Grant!”  Another round of applause erupted as Steve nodded, a shy smile pulling at his mouth.  She pulled his hand towards her and opened her arms for a hug.  Steve happily ducked down to her embrace, his arms resting on her lower back as her free hand gripped his shoulder.  Her face slightly twisted and her lips were by his ear again.  “Meet me at the back door, ten minutes,” she whispered.  Steve nodded minutely before pulling away.  She released him and clapped for him as well as he waved a hand and stepped down from the stage.

As the drag queen who hosted came back out and closed the show Steve grabbed a shot at the bar, paid, then left through the front door.  He quickly rounded the building, down the alley, until he reached the back of the building.  He found the back door and leaned up against the wall next to it to wait.  He didn’t know what would happen next, but if she wanted to see him afterwards then the magical moment must have meant something to her, too.  Eight minutes went by until the door swung open and his green haired beauty emerged.

Her eyes quickly found him and she smirked.  “Grant,” she greeted him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Emerald,” Steve greeted her back, pushing himself off the wall.  “Though I’m guessing that’s not your name.”

“You guessed right,” she said.  “Though it seems we’re both using different names, Steve Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes widened and his smile fell.  He quickly cleared his throat and looked down.  “That obvious, huh?”

“Probably not to the average person,” she said as she took a step toward him.  “But most people haven’t had a grandparent that was a huge fan of Captain America like I did, who took me to the Smithsonian any chance he got to educate me about the great Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos.  I’d recognize those eyes anywhere,” she quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Though I have to say, I like the longer hair and beard look.  Makes you much more ruggedly handsome.”

Steve’s smile returned and he blushed at her compliment.  “Ruggedly handsome?”

“Oh yes,” she smiled widely at him.  She took another step toward him, making her look up at him.  She analyzed his face for a moment before she sighed heavily.  “Dirty trick you played in there, using your scent on me,” she said quietly, her smile falling.

Steve’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Oh, um…I’m sorry,” he said quickly, embarrassed that although it worked in getting him noticed and chosen, she was obviously not happy with him about it.  

“Hm,” she hummed, looking him over.  “I was going to choose you regardless, you know?” she said, reaching a hand out and running her fingers over the lining of his coat.  “I scented you from the moment you walked in,” she said, her fingers sliding up towards his collar.  “A Manhattan cocktail, with an undertone of sandalwood and amber,” she met his gaze again.  “And a hint of petrichor.”

“Petrichor?” Steve asked, his eyes never leaving her fingers that gripped his collar lightly.

“The smell after a long awaited rain,” she whispered.  She pulled him down by his collar and guided his face towards her neck.  Steve’s arms wrapped around her like he was hugging her, his grip pulling her flush against him as he nuzzled his nose against her scent gland inhaling deeply.  He felt like he was skipping a lot of steps in the process.  Scenting another person was extremely personal, and not something done by strangers like this.  “You obviously came here for this,” she said as he rubbed the tip of his nose against her neck.

Steve groaned, getting drunk off the scent that nearly drove him crazy enough to lose control.  She gave it up so easily to him.  “Fuck…” he whispered as his tongue licked along the gland, nipping lightly at her skin.  Her fingers tightened around his coat, a soft whimper falling from her lips.  “I couldn’t tell what it was, but…” he sniffed again, his eyes rolling.  “Bergamot, rose, and sandalwood.  Like the perfumes I used to smell back in the day,” he said as his lips traveled to her jaw and then kissed her cheek softly.  “With a hint of ocean air,” he smirked at her as he pulled away to look at her.  Her eyes were hooded as she looked back up at him, her mouth open as she breathed heavily.  “Your name?” he asked.

She huffed a silent laugh as she smiled.  “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” Steve repeated it, liking the way it felt on his tongue.  

Her smile tightened.  “We should slow down.”

“We should,” Steve agreed, but didn’t let go of her.

She pulled away a little, which almost felt like a punch to his gut.  Y/N looked up at him and mischievously grinned.  “How about you take me out and show me some of that old school charm?  And we’ll see where that leads us.”

Steve chuckled at that, his smile widening.  “You took the words right out of my mouth.  Though it sounds much more smooth coming from you.”

“I can be smooth when I wanna be,” she giggled.  She gave him another look over then stepped back, reaching for and holding one of his hands while fishing out her phone from her coat pocket.  She unlocked the phone and handed it to him.  Steve quickly pulled his phone out and gave it to her as well and they exchanged numbers.  

“I’ll call you,” Steve said as he made sure to save her contact information.

“You better,” Y/N smirked.  She pulled him down by his collar again and kissed the side of his mouth, making him growl impatiently.  It only made her laugh as she stepped out of his reach.  “See you around, Steve,” she said his name in her seductive voice that she used on stage.  

Steve sighed heavily and composed himself.  “See you soon, Y/N.” She walked to the back door and knocked in a pattern, then the bass player walked out, giving her and Steve a once over and scoffing before walking towards one of the cars parked along the back alley.  Y/N waved to Steve then followed the band member, who drove off with her.  Steve watched until she was out of sight then laughed to himself.  This is going to be interesting.

This is the "dirtiest" fic I've written so far. I'm not usually a #stucky fan, but I thought I'd give a crack at it. Hope y'all like it!

[arc-misadventures]

Fathers Day Letter

Beacon Academy lunchroom, and everyone is looking over the mail they have each recently received.

Ruby: Ohh! Dad sent me something!

Yang: Me too, wonder what he sent me.

Weiss: Oh? My sister sent me a package, I wonder what’s in it.

Pyrrha: My mom sent me a care package~!

Ren: I got a parcel in the mail: I hope it’s those tea leaves I ordered.

Nora: My magazine is in! YES!!!

Blake: Yes! The latest book in the, ‘Ninja’s of Lust’ series!

Ruby: COOKIES!!! He sent me cookies! Yayyyyy! (Nom,nom,nom,nom!)

Yang: Save some for later, Rubes. Now lets see… Awesome! He sent me the bike polish I use for, Bumblebee! I forgot it, when we left! I’m gonna have some fun spreading you on tonight~!

Weiss: Oh? ‘Dear sister, I lost a gentlemen’s wager, and they requested several signed copies of your latest album. Since I assume this would be no problem, would you kindly sign these copies, and send them back to me. Love, Winter.’ This is rather… unexpected.

Yang: Are you going to refuse her request?

Weiss: No, this should only take an hour to do. What did you get, Pyrrha.

Pyrrha: Cookies, chocolate, and some beauty products from home, nothing much really. Did you get your tea, Ren?

Ren: Yep; I’m looking forward to having these later.

Yang: What magazine did you order, Nora.

Nora: ‘Pancakes Illustrated’

Weiss: Excuse me?

Yang: That’s not what I think it is, is it?

Ren: Well…

Nora: Ohh yeah~! Let that butter run off you, you naughty girl~!

Yang: UHHHH?!

Pyrrha: Don’t ask.

Yang: Okay…?

Blake: And, you say I’m the depraved one…

Ruby: Isthat… (Gulp!) Is that a father’s day card, Jaune?

Yang: Wait, what?

Weiss: Excuse me?

Pyrrha: You’reafather?!

Nora: I’m an aunt?!

Jaune: Oh, yeah. It’s just a little joke card really. My sisters see me as the father figure they never had, so they send me this as family joke.

Pyrrha: Oh thank gods…

Yang: Oh, so what’s the joke, I bet it’s pretty funny!

Jaune: Well… It’s kinda funny… in the shear ridiculousness of it.

Blake: How ridiculous is this?

Jaune: Well, lets start at the beginning: My family consists of me, my older sisters, Saphron, and Thiriana. My mother, Juniper, my grandfather, Álkimos, and lastly my father, Evinder, or simply, Evin.

Pyrrha: I thought you said you were an only child?

Jaune: I’m the only son, I have lots of sisters though.

Pyrrha: Oh okay. Please continue.

Jaune: So when I was three years old, my father disappeared while out travelling. We had no idea what happened, my mother was so distraught that she begged my grandfather to go find him. So, my grandfather who is a, Huntsman, who also loves his daughter very much, went out to find him.

Ruby: Did he find him?

Jaune: No. He spent two years trying to find him, but he found no trace of him. However, a year later, when I had turned five, my grandfather was in another town a ways away from where I lived. Then town was attacked by some, Grimm. Luckily there was only one casualty. That one casualty was where things got interesting!

Weiss: What happened?

Jaune: Well, my grandfather went to the woman, her name is, Isleen, a snake faunas with beautiful blue, and gold tipped scales. And, she had three daughters: Luna, and a pair of twins named, Angela, and Janette, ages two, and one. And, she told him that her husband was missing, my grandfather asked what his name was, and she said his name was, Gregory. She then showed him a photo of him, and my father was left gobsmacked! He had a new hair cut, and a beard, but he knew very well what the face of his ‘deceased’ son-in-law looked like.

Yang: Wait, what?!

Weiss: He wasn’t dead?!

Blake: And, he abandon your mother?!

Ren: Along with you, and your sisters?!

Pyrrha: And, started a new family with another woman?!

Jaune: Yep. He wasn’t happy to say the least. Then, my grandfather showed, Isleen a photo of my mother, me, and my sisters, and my recently ‘deceased’ father, Evinder. She did not take it well that her husband was not who he said he was, and seeming abandoned her, like he had done with my mother really, really hurt her. So, my grandfather decided to take her, and her kids back home. To live with me, and the rest of my family.

Blake: Was your mom okay with that?

Jaune: Eventually. She didn’t like that her father brought some random woman, and her kids home with him. But, she understood why grandfather invited them to stay with us. I mean, learning that their husband was living under false identities, and had married two separate woman, and had kids with them, and abandoned both of them. They had plenty of things in common together to bound with one another.

Yang: I’ll bet they did.

Jaune: Shortly after that, my grandfather was called to deal with a missing person report in another town. So he went there, and this woman asked if he could find her missing husband…

Weiss: Don’t tell me. He looked like your father?

Jaune: Same hair cut, and beard, just with thick rimmed glasses.

Blake: Given years apart you’d think he’d come up with a better disguise.

Jaune: Yeah… about that… The wife, a silver fox faunas who’s name is, Evenora, had two daughters with, ‘Stavon,’ their names were, Luna, and Carol.

Weiss: Hold old were they?

Jaune: One, and two years old. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but you need to understand this… Isleen, and her family lived about two weeks away from, Evenora, and her family.

Yang: I don’t get it.

Blake: So he didn’t go far this time when he faked his death again.

Ren: Wait, they lived two weeks of travel apart? Oh gods…

Pyrrha: What is it, Ren?

Ren: He was married to both of them at the same time… He was double timing them wasn’t he?

Jaune: Bingo bango bongo! You are right on the money, Ren!

Ruby: Wait, what?!

Weiss: You’re kidding me right?!

Jaune: Nope: He was double timing the two of them by being the cheating bastard that he was. He was a travelling sales men, so he two two weeks to travel between the two villages, stay for a month with one wife, then when back, and lived with his other wife for a month. And, he did that for over two years

Yang: You’re fucking kidding me?!

Jaune: Oh gods I wish.

Nora: What happened next?

Jaune: Well, my grandfather showed her photos of the two other families he abandoned. Needless to say she was absolutely devastated by this news. Now, my grandfather would have stay with her, and consoled her through this, but he was only missing for about three days. He needed to find him before the trail turned cold. So he hunted him. Now you gotta understand my grandfather is a vindictive monster; he was absolutely pissed when he learned he abandoned my mother, and, Isleen, he was fucking furious when he learned learned he did it a third time to, Evenora. So, he was after him like a bloodhound.

Weiss: Please, pleassssse tell me he found the cheating bastard, and made him payyyyyyy!

Blake: You’re really getting into this.

Weiss: This fucker makes all the emotional abuse my dad put me, and my family through feel like school yard bullying.

Yang: Same. My mom may have abandoned me at birth, but this. This is fucked up!

Nora: I can relate with them…

Ruby: You can?

Nora: My mom abandoned me. So, know how it feels when a loved one abandons you…

Pyrrha: She what?!

Jaune: It’s okay, Nora, we’re here with you know, and we’re not going anywhere.

Nora: Thanks, Jaune.

Jaune: My pleasure. Anyway, my grandfather did find him, or more precisely what was left of him.

Blake: Did a, Grimm get him?

Weiss: Fuck yeah!

Yang: That sounded so wrong coming from you.

Jaune: Well, yes he was dead. But, I’m not sure if a, Grimm did him in.

Ren: What makes you say that?

Jaune: My grandfather is an extremely experienced huntsman. He’s seen plenty of peoples corpses that are the result of a, Grimm attack.

Weiss: So you think he killed him, and made it look like a, Grimm attack?

Jaune: That, or my grandmother got to him. She is really protective of her family, and can really, really, really hold a grudge. She’s still upset with her ex… Anywho, after he, ‘found’ his corpse he took, Evenora, and her kids with him back to our home.

Ruby: Where they live as a happy family all together!

Jaune: Eventually.

Weiss: Let me guess, they had some difficulties getting along together?

Jaune: Mom was upset as it was that he left her, and three kids all alone, but even more so that he did that to two other woman, and their five kids too. She was absolutely angry from all of this. Sadly she took out her anger, indirectly mind you, on them which was making them angry in turn at each other even more so.

Pyrrha: And, what about you, how did you handle all of this.

Jaune: Well, I never really understood what my dad did until I was older. But, I was happy. I wasn’t the youngest child, and I now had five younger sisters! i was the older brother I always wanted to be. My, Mom thanked me for being the older brother that I was, loving each of them unconditionally as I did. Because I did this, it showed my mother that she was being petty, and mean to the other woman for things they did not do. So, she managed to fix, and even improve her relationship with the other mothers. They used to sleep in three different rooms, then after me, and my older sisters found the three of them in the same bed, all cuddling against one another they started sleeping like that ever since. Now I’m a brother with two older sisters, and five younger sisters, a loving grandfather, and grandmother, with three loving mothers, and I couldn’t be happier.

Blake: That sounds beautiful.

Pyrrha: I’m glad this had a happy ending b

Yang: That sounds lovely, but how does this relate to you getting a fathers day card?

Jaune: Oh, because I was the ‘man of the house’ I tended to look over, and protect my younger siblings. So I became the ‘father figure’ they never had.

Ruby: Awww~! That so sweet!

Pyrrha: You are a really nice brother, Jaune.

Jaune: Thanks. But, sadly this resulted in all of my younger siblings in developing father/brother complexes with me, just like it did with, Nora…

Yang: Pfft! Hahahaha! You’re right, Jaune; in the shear ridiculousness of it all, that is quite funny.

Ruby: Your family is quite something, Jaune.

Blake: I could make so many stories with this as a basis…

Yang: Settle down, Bla…? Wait, Nora? Do you have a brother/father complex with, Jaune too?

Weiss: You’re kidding me, right?

Nora: Y-Yeah… I do…

Pyrrha: What?! How did that happen?!

Nora: I couldn’t help it! He runs his fingers through my hair to comfort me when I have nightmares, and he gives me goodnight kisses on my forehead before I go to sleep. It’s really nice.

Yang: Do you seriously do that?

Ren: Yeah, he does that almost every night, it’s really nice to see.

Pyrrha: How come I’ve never seen this before?

Ren: You’ve been asleep whenever he does it.

Pyrrha: But… I… Jaune! I want goodnight kisses too!

Jaune: Okay.

Pyrrha: Yes!

Jaune: So, anything else you guys wanna ask about my families.

Blake: Yeah, so, Jaune, if you’re in the mood, do you want to pretend to be my daddy, and give me a good spanking because I’ve been a bad girl?

RWYJNPR: …

Jaune: No.

Blake: Naww…

Weiss: How about me instead?

Jaune: Excuse me what?

[mirclealignr]

—hard work’s pay off

hermione granger x slytherin!reader

—this was a request from ages ago. lol.

hermione granger—studious, diligent and, supposedly, the brightest witch of her age. but it wasn’t all this glitz and glam that drew you to the frizzy-haired gryffindor.

it started in first year, when you discovered she was so painfully easy to wind up. it could be something as small as whispering when the professor was talking or something as large as deliberately making it seem as if you were trying to copy her work.

it was so easy it almost became addictive. but also as you grew older and your interests changed, it wasn’t solely just about driving her round the bend. it became an excuse to talk to her, to see her flustered and her cheeks glow rosy.

“granger, granger, granger,” you sighed teasingly, sitting in your assignee seat beside her. “i heard you got a ‘poor’ in charms the other week, slacking are we?”

“what?!” hermione was appalled. who would spread such vicious, baseless lies about her? “that’s outrageous!”

“but not an ‘outstanding’. in fact it’s shocking,” you cut in with a smirk before she could carry on.

she was red up to her ears but slowly calming down as she began to realise you were only teasing, as usual. she seethed silently, turning her head away before taking a deep breath—she couldn’t let you get to her.

“whatever.”

you laughed, “you believed me for a moment there, didn’t you, granger?”

“well, in regards to one’s reputation, one can’t be too careful,” hermione said, holding her head high.

“oh don’t get all diplomatic on me. i got you good.”

hermione was now exercising the tried and tested method of the silent treatment. she was particularly well versed in this skill but you knew there was one thing she could not stand—quill scratching. it was the wizard from of clicking a pen incessantly, except it consisted of scratching a dry quill against parchment. hermione hated it.

“will you stop that?!” she groaned, almost catching the attention of professor snape, if it weren’t for seamus finnigan setting fire to half of his essay.

you giggled, carrying on with your assignment, at least for a little while. still, you caught small glances of hermione in the corner of your eye, you were drawn to her and you couldn’t help but to look. she was still scowling, scribbling away furiously, writing every idea that came to mind with perfect fluency.

“don’t frown, granger,” you smirked, stretching your arms. “you’re much prettier when you smile.”

“merlin’s beard, y/n, i’m trying to concentrate.”

“just one smile?” you teased.

hermione looked at you through her peripheral vision, scrunching her eyebrows together. “you’re flirting with me,” she stated, for she was a clever girl and did not need to ask.

you chuckled lightly, “do you want me to stop?”

she tucked her arms into herself, awkwardly looking between you and her work before scribbling away again, refusing to answer and play into such schemes. she didn’t say another word for the rest of the lesson and you didn’t bother her again, sensing she was better left alone.

when professor snape dismissed the lot of you, hermione found herself desperate to respond to your previous question but too nervous to give a definitive answer, even if she already knew what that answer was.

“i haven’t decided,” she stated plainly, hugging her books to her chest.

“haven’t decided what?” you asked.

“if i want you to stop flirting,” she rushed, cheeks glowing with blush.

“well that’s not a no.”

“it’s not a yes,” she countered, turning on her heels and storming away.

“still not a no!” you shouted after her, smirking.

all your years of hard work were finally paying off. hermione was finally giving into you. it didn’t matter if no one else understood your infatuation with her, it didn’t bother you in the slightest. you hadn’t a care, but for hermione granger.

“i don’t know why you bother with her,” pansy shook her head, walking with you to lunch.

“the same way i don’t know why you bother with malfoy. we have our reasons,” you rolled your eyes, linking arms with your friend. “she’s coming around,” you winked.

i don’t have a tag list but if you’d like to be notified when i post, follow @mirclesjournal and turn post notifications on!

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Your OC is handed a baby to hold whilst their parent attends to an emergency. For Humble.

(Also asked by @houserosaire thank you both!)

Humble looked down at the tiny Hyur infant cradled in his huge palm and then back at her mother. Or at least at where her mother had been, before she'd seemingly dashed out of the inn, presumably in search of her other errant offspring. The Brume, it seemed, was not considered a safe place for children to wander unaccompanied.

The baby was, for a mercy, still asleep despite the commotion. Humble was grateful for this at least. He didn't feel massively confident in his ability to care for babies, who - in his limited experience - seemed to consist of a loud noise at one end and absolutely no sense of responsibility at the other.

Suddenly the clattering of the tankards and trays being collected and carried through to the scullery disturbed the slumbering infant, who began to fuss and whimper. Signs, Humble feared, of a child who would be imminently awake and most probably deeply disconcerted to find herself being held by a bearded stranger, no matter how carefully he might be trying to do it.

Humble desperately tried to remember a suitable lullaby, but he wasn't sure anyone had ever sung him a lullaby when he was a child, certainly not one he could remember at any rate. He ran through the other songs he knew, which mostly consisted of marching songs or bawdy drinking tunes, none of which he felt would be suitable for the occasion, even if he had the sort of voice that would soothe an infant - which he was fairly sure he did not.

He settled on humming a marching song from his mercenary days. One which contained several verses of increasing crudeness, but did at least have a memorable tune. The low rumble of Humble's humming seemed to have the intended effect and the child snuggled back into his palm. His shoulders slumped with relief.

With one enormous finger he gently stroked her wispy blonde hair away from her forehead. "Mummy back soon" he murmured in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. Before adding, more as an afterthought than anything else, "Hopefully..."

[adobe-outdesign]

oooo how about the krawk next? aka the forever wooden spoon award holder

Krawks for many years were known as a status symbol pet alongside Draiks, due to being a restricted pet—instead of just being able to create one, you either had to shell out of a lot of money to get a morphing potion, or shell out a lot of money to obtain a Krawk petpet. Thankfully, re-releases in recent years have helped make Krawks fairly obtainable.

Which is good, as I always thought having a petpet that becomes a Neopet is a really unique and fun idea, but making it near-impossible to get the pet in question...is not.

Visually, Krawks are basically alligators/crocodiles, but features like them being bipedal and having back spikes (sometimes portrayed more like fur, it's not very consistent) along with their markings help give them some flavor. I like the very reptile-like head shape in particular with the jagged mouth as well as the spots.

The base colors are pretty good, though not terribly consistent—the blue has cyan accents, the green has darker accents, the yellow has lighter accents, and the red is super low-contrast. Still, not a huge deal, as they look good regardless.

Not much changed with Krawks post-customization, other than them gaining larger pupils and losing their foot claws/sass. The customized version looks better overall in terms of linework and shading, and the anatomy has been improved in areas like the legs and arms.

Favorite Colours:

Camouflage: Taking the crocodile traits to their natural conclusion, the camouflage Krawk looks great. I love the natural muted palette contrasted with the bright yellow and green eye, and how the color subtly shifts from green to brown. The spots are nice and don't feel too uniform. It's also nice how this color improves the basic shading with more highlights and more shadows, making for a fantastic colour overall.

Maraquan: Krawks are at least semi-aquatic as is, but the Maraquan Krawk takes it to its logical conclusion by dropping the legs in favor of a tail and some fins. I like how the back spines have become sea dragon-esq camouflage, how the eye lost its iris and uses a light yellow against the darker teal base for contrast, and how the markings look very natural (kind of like the camo Krawk above).

The customized version is alright, but the UC/styled is definitely better here. Not only does it have a really nice subtle scale texture to it, but the subtle changes to the head anatomy really make it. The back spines also look less cluttered, the pose is more dynamic, and the hands are proper fins.

Royal: While nothing usual for the color, the royal Krawks look pretty darn nice. Both versions are equal in design, having similar outfits, staffs, etc., and both fit the Krawk's design nicely. I think I prefer the Royalgirl over all, but the Royalboy has the better palette with the complimentary yellows.

The UC/styled versions are once again the best ones, as a lot got lost in translation, like how the converted Royalgirl lacks eyeliner and hair for no reason, or how the staffs are way too big, or how the Royalboy's beard is distressingly detailed. The poses and slightly unique anatomy are also great and give them some extra personality.

BONUS: Another unfortunate victim of conversion, the UC/styled Tyrannian Krawk is (most likely) a dimetrodon, complete with a semi-quadrupedal pose and huge back fine. The converted version not only screws up details like the claws, but also is forced to be fully bipedal and lose things like the eyebrow ridges and shorter head spikes. A shame. The original still looks great though. Only complaint with both is that the colors are messy; too many shades of orange and brown tossed together with too little consistency, and barely visible striping that should've been like two times lighter.

[herearedragons]

Out Of Water (Mermay fic)

content warnings: mild violence, violation of privacy, suggestive themes, grief/loss of a family member

read on AO3

BANG.

The door of the rangers' cabin slammed open so suddenly and so loudly that Aloth nearly fell out of his seat, dropping his chemistry textbook and knocking the radio on the table over.

On the other side of the door, his figure filling almost the entirety of the doorframe, stood a man with a crazed look in his eyes, breathing heavily, as though he'd sprinted there.

Fortunately, that man was his colleague Edér, which meant that Aloth was not about to be murdered.

Unfortunately, the very first thing he said was:

"Mermaids are real!"

Aloth blinked.

"...Excuse me?"

"Mermaids are real."

"Good... morning... to you too, Edèr."

It was morning; he could see the sky over Edér's shoulder begin to turn purple. It wouldn't be long until their shift was over.

"Really? That's all you're gonna say? The mermaid thing ain't news to you?"

Aloth set the radio upright again and picked up his textbook. He didn't mark the page he was on. He'd have to find it later.

"I was being polite. Also, I have no idea what you're talking about." He closed the textbook and set it aside. "...What do you mean, mermaids are real?"

Finally, Edér stepped into the cabin and closed the door behind him.

"There's a mermaid in the lake," he said. "And I saw it. Her. I saw her."

"....Uh-huh."

Aloth stood up. 

In the dim light of the early dawn and the singular yellow lightbulb illuminating the cabin, it was difficult to say whether there was any redness in Edér's eyes, or whether the pupils were dilated. The fact that he was always squinting didn't help, either; in all honesty, he probably needed to have his sight checked.

Edér noticed him looking, obviously.

"...I get the feeling you don't believe me."

"You did just claim that you saw a mermaid. Which is fascinating if true, but it usually isn't."

"Well, I got proof!"

The "proof" turned out to be a series of pictures taken on Edér's phone. However, as he swiped over the cracked screen looking for the right one, his expression turned more and more confused.

"...Wait. No. That's not right. How could it - gods damn it."

Aloth peered at the phone - this required standing on his tiptoes - and saw what Edér was looking at: about a dozen images, all consisting of a pure white rectangle.

"You took those pictures?"

"I guess? I took pictures of her, but... it's just this." Edér scratched his beard as he stared at the perfectly white screen a moment longer, then turned off his phone and, with a heavy sigh, put it away. "This kinda thing happens once in a lifetime, and I messed it up. Guess I'll just have to remember it best as I can."

Aloth hesitated.

Whether it was the strange picture or the genuine heartbreak in Edér's voice, something about the "mermaid" incident seemed... real? Not entirely fabricated, at the very least. By now, he was willing to believe that his colleague saw something while patrolling, even if he wasn't necessarily sure what.

"What did... she... look like?" Aloth asked.

Edér gave him a look.

"You making fun of me?"

"I sincerely promise that I'm not."

"...Alright.”

Edér pulled one of the chairs in the cabin over and sat down; Aloth followed his example. 

For a brief moment, he saw Edér's eyes glaze over, as if he was recalling something.

"...She was blue. Blue skin, white hair. Long tail, also blue. Really pretty scales; kinda shimmery. And she had those... markings, all over her. Crescent-shaped. They were glowing. And her hair; it was glowing, too."

"Glowing... markings?"

"That's what I said."

A thought had just occurred to Aloth, and now, he had a choice.

He could either share his thought - which would require accepting Edér's tale of a glowing blue woman with a fish tail at face value, at least temporarily - or keep silent, and let the mermaid incident fade into obscurity.

In the end, the temptation to test his hypothesis was stronger than his skepticism.

"...Did you... use a flash, in those photos?" Aloth asked.

"Don't remember. Why?"

Aloth let out a deep sigh.

Oh gods, he really was going to say this. At least no one but Edér would ever find out.

"Her hair and markings might have been not luminescent, but highly reflective," he said. "If you took pictures of her using a flash, the resulting glare may have been too strong."

Immediately, he could see the excitement return to Edér's eyes as he worked out the explanation.

"Like a cat's eyes?"

Aloth nodded.

"But greatly amplified."

"Damn... Yeah, that makes sense. Bet she's nocturnal." 

The absurdity of the situation was palpable. Here they were sitting, two relatively reasonable people - Edér had his moments, but overall was extremely reliable - talking about a mermaid like it was a slightly unusual species of deer.

But, seeing as he had started to pull on this thread already, Aloth decided that it was best to get the full story.

"So, how did you find her?" he asked.

Suddenly, Edér's expression darkened.

"About that. We've got poachers."

*

It was a spool of nylon rope, secured to the trunk of a nearby tree. The end of the rope was frayed, as though it snapped or was cut. Considering that the edges were even, the latter was more likely.

As Aloth examined it, he heard the familiar faint hiss of a match being lit, followed by the smell of whiteleaf smoke; Edér had lit his pipe.

"It had a loop at the end, like a snare," Edér said. "Her tail got caught in it. That's how I found her, right there."

Aloth turned around and saw him point to a patch of mud near the water. It certainly looked like it was recently disturbed by something large.

"I was walking the trail when I heard water splashes, and something thrashing. Went to check, and, well, saw what I saw. She saw me too, and she went real still. That's when I took the pictures." Edér looked over at the spool. "Then I noticed this thing, and realized her tail was tangled in it. I thought, well, I've got to help, and she still wasn’t doing anything, so… I cut it with my knife. Next thing I know, she went into the water, and I lost sight of her."

Leaving the spool alone for now, Aloth approached the spot Edér pointed out and crouched beside it. He didn't quite know what he was hoping to see: something, anything, that would allow him to make up his mind once and for all about whether Edér's story was real.

There was a central large groove, which he could believe was left by a large animal wallowing. Then, there were trails around it that looked like something was dragged through the mud in a strange, wavy pattern.

It could have been a tail. It could have been something else.

Then, a series of smaller grooves caught his attention; thinner, deeper lines in close proximity to each other.

Aloth stared at those lines for a few moments. His brain was still at work putting the thought into words, but the intuitive understanding was already there. He felt nauseous all of a sudden.

Slowly, as if compelled by an unseen force, he held his hand over the grooves. His fingers fit into them almost perfectly.

He clawed his fingers slightly, and dragged them through the mud, following the pattern.

"Yeah, she did that."

Edér's voice startled him; Aloth turned around rapidly, and discovered his colleague leaning right over his shoulder.

"Gods above; give me some warning next time," Aloth muttered.

Edér just smirked, and puffed out some smoke.

"You believe me yet?" 

"...Your story does seem more likely now, I'll admit."

Suddenly, Edér's eyes lit up. He leaned over Aloth - forcing him to duck to avoid being knocked down into the water - and picked something out of the mud.

"Look!"

Once Edér had pulled back, Aloth could see what was in his hand.

A large, slightly translucent blue scale, carefully pinched between his fingers. 

At the sight of it, the nausea that already started in his stomach intensified; Aloth swallowed, suddenly aware of the loudness of his own heartbeat.

He hesitated, then held a hand out, palm up.

"May I?..."

"Sure, but be careful with it," Edér said. "Don't know if I can find another one."

Then, he dropped the scale into Aloth's hand.

It was softer than he expected and very pliable, but still sturdy, and of a strangely smooth texture. It bent easily and snapped right back into shape when he released the pressure; he couldn't dent it with his fingernail, or with a rock he found nearby. When he turned it in his hands and it caught the light just right, the outer side of the scale had a pearlescent shimmer to it.

It could have been artificial - some kind of plastic - but something told him that it wasn't.

"Well, that's..." Aloth trailed off, trying to find the right word. "...Unprecedented."

He looked up at Edér.

"...What should we do? My first thought is that we should report it, but I can't imagine it will be taken seriously, even with evidence. I could take the scale to my university's lab and have it tested - "

Edér shook his head.

"I take it you have a better idea, then," Aloth said, somewhat irritated. He thought that the lab idea was pretty good.

"We don't tell anyone," Edér said.

"What?"

"That spool." Edér gestured to it with the end of his pipe. "Ever seen this kind of trap before?"

"Well... no."

"That's 'cause it's not normal. It's not for fish or animals; it's for her."

"...Oh."

He could see Edér's point, now.

If they weren't the first to learn about the mermaid, and the others' intentions towards her were harmful, bringing even more attention to her could do more harm than good. In the worst case scenario, the efforts to capture her would be redoubled.

That was not the way to approach this kind of discovery. Careful observation and documentation, for an extensive period of time, before ever attempting any interaction; that is what Aloth would have advised, had anyone asked his opinion.

He knew people who would share that opinion. However, none of them had the kind of sway that would be required to truly protect the mermaid.

Secrecy was their best option. For now.

"Then," Aloth said, "We need to find out who the other party is."

That earned him an approving nod.

"My thought exactly," Edér said. "Here's what I've got. That spool wasn't there when I walked by before sundown, or I would've seen it. Someone came at night and set it up. How soon do you reckon they'll come check on it?"

"Soon, I would imagine," Aloth said. "Unless they saw you free her. Then, they might not come at all."

"Let's hang out here for an hour or so," Edér said. "They don't show up until then, they're probably not showing up at all. That case, I'll come here tonight, try to catch them after dark."

Aloth gave him a doubtful look:

"Alone?"

"I mean, you wanna sit in the bushes with me in the dark, you're welcome to join."

"...I really don't." 

Aloth hesitated for a moment, examining his colleague's expression. 

"Please don't take this the wrong way," he said, "But... You're not suggesting this just because you want to see the mermaid again, are you?"

The guilty look in Edér's eyes told Aloth everything he needed to know before a single word was uttered.

"...Well," Edér said finally, "Wouldn't you?"

Hearing the wistfulness in his voice, Aloth was certain that the next words he was about to say were very necessary.

"Edér," he said, "You are a professional. I know I may not sound like it, but I would, in fact, trust you with my life in a dangerous situation. But I need you to understand that this… mermaid… is a fully unknown creature to us. We don't know anything about her. I agree that we should protect her, but we also should not attempt anything before we know for certain what we're dealing with."

"...What are you saying, Aloth?"

"I'm saying that if you do see her again, you should keep a safe distance."

Watching Edér's expression, he couldn't quite tell whether his words found their target.

He could only hope that they did.

*

The poachers did not come in the morning.

The truth was, Edér was glad that they didn't. He had a feeling that, even had they caught the poachers earlier today, he'd still wind up here tonight: hiding in the brush with his brother’s camera, waiting for something to happen.

This way, at least he had an excuse for it.

To say it was quiet wouldn't be quite right - it was a summer night, which meant bird calls and skittering in the bushes and so many bugs - but nothing weird was happening, so far. According to his watch, he'd been there for forty minutes; it felt longer.

Part of him was itching to smoke, but he knew that would give away his hiding spot.

He wasn't too worried about dealing with the poachers. If one or two people showed up, he could probably take them on; if there were more, it could get dicey, so then he'd probably just get pictures. The poachers would set the trap and leave, and he'd take it down again, and then in the morning he and Aloth would try to figure out who they were.

Poachers weren't really the main thing on his mind, though.

So Aloth was right. So he wanted to see her again. So what?

You see something like this - something you were told as a kid was real, and then found out that it wasn't, and then it was suddenly real again - you can't just let go. You have to see it twice, just to make sure.

Edér didn't like using Woden's old things if he could help it, but the camera was a good piece of gear, and it would have been stupid not to take it along for a stakeout like this.

Woden probably would have let him borrow it, if he was still around.

Edér could almost hear him saying it: told you I'd get you into photography one day. And then he'd spend way too much time trying to teach him about stuff like shutter speed and exposure and what all the buttons do.

Things as they were, Edér had to figure it out himself, and he was maybe half sure that he got all of the settings right.

He didn't exactly need the pictures to be high art, though, so it was probably fine.

Time passed, with nothing but the noises of wildlife and his own thoughts for company. 

One hour. Hour and a half. Two hours.

Then, at the beginning of the third hour, it happened.

At this point, his vision was long glazed over with boredom, and it took him a few seconds to shake off the stupor before he could really process that something was happening in the lake.

There was a faint glow, getting brighter and closer by the second, until he could clearly make out a long ribbon-like shape moving under the water's surface.

She wasn't swimming like a fish, more like an eel, her tail weaving back and forth in a wavy pattern. It looked like she was getting closer to the shore, but slowly; she'd stop and hover in place for a few moments, then move on. Almost like she was looking for something.

Then, it hit him: she was looking for more snares.

The realization gave him goosebumps. He wasn't sure why.

Finally, Edér remembered the camera in his hands. He raised it to his eyes, and found that he could see her even better through the objective.

The shutter clicked one, two, three times. The mermaid kept moving, and then, all of a sudden, she poked her head out of the water.

He was a fair distance away, hidden by foliage. He knew she couldn't possibly see him, and yet...

And yet, she was staring directly into the camera.

This was the best look he'd ever gotten at her face. At first glance, it seemed like her eyes were big glowing circles, set lower in the skull than human eyes, but then he realized that those were just glowing markings, and noticed the real, dark eyes set above them.

Her face was... sharper than he expected. Human-shaped, but different.

He managed to snap a picture before she disappeared under the water again.

Just as he put the camera down, Edér realized that the pattern of her movement had changed. She wasn't looking around anymore; she was making a beeline for the shore.

Eventually, she stopped just short of where the water became really shallow, and poked her head out again.

Why did it feel like she was staring directly at him?

Edér remembered Aloth's words: keep a safe distance.

Aloth was right: they didn't know if the mermaid was dangerous. Hel, even in kids' stories, they sometimes drowned people to death.

Don't do it, Edér told himself. It's not worth it. You've got pictures. Don't ruin it by dying now.

The mermaid opened her mouth and made a soft, high-pitched keening noise.

It didn't sound exactly like a human voice, but it was just close enough to trigger the response of someone is here and they need help somewhere deep in his brain.

Edér tightened his grip on the camera like it could help him stay put. It should have helped; the memory of his brother was as good a reminder as any of what happens to those who go too far off the trail.

They just don't come back.

Don't. Do it.

She got a little closer to shore and looked around, then made the noise again.

And again.

It sounded a little like singing. And a little like she was asking, is anyone there?

She was looking for him.

If the poachers came right now...

Edér looked down at the camera in his hands. Back at the mermaid.

Then, he gently set Woden’s camera down, and stepped out of his hiding spot.

Immediately, her head whipped towards him, and she froze; most of her body was still underwater, with just her shoulders and her head poking out, and her hands planted in the silt at the bottom of the lake.

Edér froze, too.

His first instinct was to raise his hands up to show that he's harmless, but would she know what that meant? With wild animals, you'd raise your hands up to make yourself look bigger and scare them off.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Then, as softly as possible, he said:

"Hey."

Nothing about the mermaid changed, but she didn't flinch or dive into the water either. He took that as encouragement, and continued:

"I'm Edér. You got a name?"

A completely blank stare.

Damn. Maybe she couldn't speak - not Aedyran, at least.

She made the keening noise again; lower-pitched, this time, and longer.

It was a pretty sound. Edér was trying very hard not to linger on that; the tiny part of his mind that wasn't completely enraptured by everything that was happening still remembered the stories of mermaids luring people to their death.

"You're not gonna drown me, are you?" he asked.

Same noise again.

Yeah, it seemed like that was about it for communication. He could speak, she could sing. Chances were, neither of them had any idea what the other was saying.

But she was trying.

He took one careful step forward. There was still a solid distance between them; it wasn't like he was going against Aloth's warning by doing that.

The mermaid mirrored him, pulling herself closer to the edge of the water, which was becoming more and more shallow around her.

Her entire torso was exposed now, and, in the moonlight, he could see the same blue scales running along her arms and shoulders.

She wasn't wearing anything, which he was theoretically ready for, but it still took an effort to compose himself.

It's fine. She's a mermaid. It doesn't have to be weird.

It was a good thing that it was dark and that he was standing far away, though, because he was blushing.

When the water got too shallow for her to continue moving, the mermaid coiled up her tail and... sat down, was the only way Edér could describe it.

She looked at him, and waited.

He cleared his throat.

"So... what do you... what do you want?"

Blank stare again.

"You know," Edér said, "I'm not a student like Aloth, but I think I'm starting to notice a pattern here. The pattern being that I say words, and then you just stare at me."

He watched the mermaid for a moment; still no reaction.

"...You're also not doing anything, though. You waiting for something? Need me to get closer?" 

Nothing, still.

Edér looked at the stretch of ground between them and decided that he could afford another tiny step forward. Just to see what would happen.

As soon as he moved closer, the mermaid perked up, and sang a shorter version of her call.

On a hunch, he tried to hum the call back, the way you'd meow back at a cat.

It came out not nearly as good as hers, but he got more than a blank stare back this time; she shifted, leaning in his direction.

She sang again. Edér hummed back. She responded.

Alright. That was doing... something.

He could probably get as close as the edge of the water. It seemed like she couldn't get any closer to land, so, technically, it'd still be a safe distance.

"Okay," he said. "I'll walk up to the water, but I'm not getting in. I don't wanna drown today. Deal?"

She didn’t say anything, obviously.

He closed the distance, and stopped just short of the water.

That would have to be it. Getting closer would be stupid, even by his standards.

"That's it," he told the mermaid.

Edér didn't really expect any response - every time he'd tried to speak so far, she did nothing - but, this time, he got one.

The mermaid's long tail began to uncoil, shimmering in the moonlight. White crescent shapes brightened and dimmed as light hit them in different ways; small waves created by her movements raced to the shore.

Uncoiled, her tail was about three times the length of her human torso. He was right about her being eel-like; the tail was long and flat, with a single translucent fin running across its entire length.

And now the very end of it was resting right next to his feet.

He could touch it, if he wanted to.

"...Oh, that's a bad idea. That's a really bad idea."

The reason Edér was saying that out loud to himself was because he was going to do it.

He looked at the mermaid. She met his eyes in a way that... seemed sentient.

Maybe he was about to make contact with a new species. Maybe he was about to get lured in and eaten.

He'd get a great story out of it either way, if he survived.

Without breaking eye contact with the mermaid, Edér crouched down. 

He did have his knife, still. If she lunged, he could probably hurt her enough to scare her off.

He really hoped it wouldn't come to that, though.

Slowly, he held a hand out, stopping about halfway to actually touching the tail.

"...Can I touch it?" he asked.

She made the noise again.

"Alright. I'm gonna touch it. Please don't kill me."

Oh gods he was going to touch the tail of an actual mermaid. If he was going to get eaten, it would almost be worth it.

Almost.

Edér lowered his hand and touched the tail.

It didn’t feel like an eel at all, which made sense, on account of the scales. The texture was soft but also a little scratchy, and slick in a way where he couldn't really hold on to one spot even if he tried.

Feeling her tail shift under his hand also made him very aware of the strength it probably had, and reminded him that it was longer than his entire body.

He didn't dare touch the fin - it looked kind of delicate - but he carefully ran his fingers over the scales, trying to burn the feeling into his memory.

He looked up at the mermaid. She was looking right back at him with an expression that almost seemed... curious?

Edér realized that he was grinning.

She didn't kill him! He was touching a mermaid's tail! Mermaids were real!

"Nice tail," he told her. "You're very pretty, you know? I, uh, I don’t mean that in a weird way. I mean - you’re a pretty lady, too, but I was talking about the fish part. Scales 'n stuff.”

It was probably for the best that she couldn't understand him.

Suddenly, the tail under his hand tensed.

Everything after that happened very quickly. The mermaid's tail slipped out from under his hand; he lost his balance; then, there was a loud splashing noise, and something slammed into him at an incredible speed, knocking the air out of his lungs and driving him into the ground.

Then he was on his back, starry sky and the black shadows of trees filling his field of vision, and a cold, wet, very strong hand was clamped around his throat.

Water dripped down from the mermaid's form, soaking his clothes.

She wasn't pushing down on his throat, just holding him in place, but for some reason he couldn't move at all; not even a finger.

Edér was pretty sure that it was a bad sign.

Can't talk, can't struggle - so that was it, right? He was going to get eaten.

Gods damn it. He was going to go out just like Woden. They’d find him in pieces a couple days later, or maybe not find him at all.

A strange dizziness began to set in. His thoughts were turning fuzzy and light, and swirling around like they were being carried by a current; memories came up of people he hadn’t seen in a while, and some he hadn’t even thought about in years.

His mother. People he'd served with. People he'd worked with. Girls he'd been with. Elafa - 

Was his life flashing before his eyes? Was he dying already?

No.

Among the whirl of his memories, this single word stood out: clearer than anything else that was happening in his head, and uttered by a voice that was unfamiliar.

Then, suddenly, the grip on his throat was gone, and he could breathe and move again - which he did immediately, sitting up and taking a deep, gasping breath.

I'm sorry, said a woman's voice somewhere... to the side? Behind him?

"Who's there?"

I'm here. 

Edér looked around, and saw no one else on the shore.

In the lake, though - 

There was the mermaid, in the deeper water again, just her head and shoulders visible.

Looking at him.

"...No way."

I'm sorry. I needed to touch you.

Her mouth wasn't moving, but he heard her, loud and clear.

Holy shit.

"Are you doing that? How are you doing that?"

Thoughts. I touched you. Now we can understand.

"Holy shit."

...What?

"I - nevermind."

Edér rubbed his neck. She wasn't trying to kill him after all - but, if that grip was anything to judge by, she definitely could have.

"...I thought you were gonna eat me, for sure."

I don't eat your kind.

"Well, that's good to know."

I need help.

The sudden statement caught him off guard, but he recovered pretty quickly.

She was asking for help! That was exactly what he was there for.

"Sure," Edér said. "What do you need?"

Come in the day, when it's safe. I'll wait here for you.

That... wasn't exactly what he expected to hear.

"...That's it?"

I need help.

"Yeah, I got that." 

He hesitated for a moment. Leaving it at that didn’t seem like a great idea.

 "Do you know about the traps?" he asked.

Traps?

"The thing you got tangled in the other night. That's a trap."

Oh. I know traps. This is why I need help.

“You know who’s setting them?”

Come in the day.

Edér sighed. Somehow, he wasn’t getting anywhere with this, even though they could talk now.

"...Alright. You want me to come here in the day. Got a specific time in mind, or?"

Come after dawn.

“Dawn. Got it.”

I’ll wait here for you.

The mermaid began to slink back into the water.

“Wait - “

Desperately, Edér racked his brain for any more questions he could ask her, but, by the time he had one, she was gone.

“...Damn it.”

He should have at least asked her name again.

*

It was a really good idea to bring the camera.

Aloth's jaw dropped the second he saw the pictures. Before Edér knew it, the camera was out of his hands and in Aloth's, and he was poring over every pixel on the small screen, zooming in on details and muttering to himself so fast that Edér could make out only bits and pieces of what he was saying.

"...incredible... research potential... observed in her natural habitat..."

"Alright, alright, slow down," Edér said eventually. "You can write your paper when we know she's safe."

Aloth looked up from the camera, eyes burning with excitement.

"But do you understand what this means? - " 

"Yeah, that mermaids are real. I was telling you yesterday." 

"You were,” Aloth admitted. “I would apologize for my skepticism, but being told that something like this exists and seeing undeniable proof of it are two very different things." He paused. "...Why do you look so pleased with yourself?"

"If you like undeniable proof," Edér said, "You might wanna take a walk with me later."

Bringing Aloth along to meet the mermaid seemed like a good idea. She needed to know that he was safe for her too; and then she could talk to him, and Aloth would probably have a better idea of what to ask her.

Edér hadn’t told him about the talking part yet. He was pretty sure it would just make him sound crazy again - he'd have to admit he got way too close to her, too - and, in any case, it would be better if Aloth just experienced that for himself.

So that's how they wound up on the trail together, just after dawn, like the mermaid asked.

Why that time?

To Edér, the first hour of daylight always held a special meaning, but that was a lifetime of Eothasian morning services speaking; the mermaid probably didn't have the same associations with dawn as he did.

What was it that she said, exactly? It's safer in the day? Safer from what?

While he was thinking that over, Aloth kept pestering him with questions about the mermaid; now that he was finally sure she was real, he wanted to know everything, and, well, who could blame him?

Certainly not Edér. Certainly not after what happened at night.

So he answered the questions as best as he could, tried to recall the exact length of her tail and the way she moved in the water, and whether she needed to come up for air.

They were still talking about that when they came up to the lake.

Then - 

Uh.

Then, Aloth made a weird choking noise and turned right back around, grabbing Edér's shoulder - with a strength that was honestly impressive for a guy his size - and forcing him to turn around also.

"Edér," Aloth hissed, "This is not a mermaid. This is a fully nude human woman."

"...Oh, good. So I wasn't the only one seeing that."

She was sitting on the ground. She had pale skin and light hair, and, like Aloth said, she was naked. That was about all he got before Aloth turned him around.

"Edér. What is happening?"

Before he could figure out a way to answer that, a voice sounded behind them.

"...I'm sorry."

It was a little lower and scratchier, like she had a sore throat, but it was her voice . It had only been a few hours since Edér heard it in his head; he hadn't forgotten it just yet.

"I know I'm supposed to wear clothes," she said. "I didn't have any."

Aloth's eyebrows somehow went even higher than they already were.

"...Alright," Edér said, "Hear me out. I know this sounds crazy, but I think this is the mermaid."

"Wh - "

"It's gonna make more sense in a second. Give me your jacket."

Aloth unzipped his jacket and handed it over to him. Silently, Edér thanked the gods for sending him an Aedyran partner, who would get chilly even in the middle of summer.

Keeping his eyes planted firmly in the ground, he turned around and tossed the jacket to the mermaid.

It landed on the ground somewhere between them; he heard shifting, and the sound of a few slow, deliberate steps. Then he heard the rustling of fabric - that went on long enough to make him wonder whether she was having trouble with it - and, finally, the sound of a zipper.

Edér looked up.

The jacket was baggy enough that, if you squinted, it could count as a really short dress. She was wearing it inside out, but she did somehow get it zipped all the way up, which was good enough. 

Her face had changed since their last meeting. The features were still similar to those in his photos, but the edges were softer; the sharpness that so clearly marked her as something else was gone now. 

Her eyes weren't all black anymore, either. They were human eyes, with whites and a pupil and an iris, blue like her scales were.

He tapped Aloth's shoulder.

"Alright, you can turn around now. Aloth, this is the mermaid; mermaid, this is Aloth. He's also here to help."

"Aloth," the mermaid repeated, looking at his friend. Then, she looked over at him. "Edér."

"Yeah, that's me!" 

He probably shouldn't have been that giddy to find out she remembered his name, but, he was.

That reminded him - 

"...What's your name?"

The mermaid made a sharp hissing sound, some kind of gurgling noise, and a keening noise that sounded kind of like the call she used last night.

"Uh," Aloth said.

Her face briefly scrunched up in discomfort.

"...It doesn't sound right in this voice."

The way she spoke was a little weird; her voice was very even, almost monotone. She also hesitated a little every time she spoke, like she was choosing her words.

It must have been weird for her to talk like a human if she was only using her thoughts and singing before.

"Wait," Edér said. "Can you say that again?"

She repeated the sounds.

Sssss - llrm - eeee

He thought about it for a moment.

"...How 'bout Selene?"

He must have heard the name somewhere recently, because it came to mind pretty quickly. It had similar sounds and the exact same cadence, so he figured it could be a good fit.

"Selene," the mermaid said, copying his inflection.

"You don't have to say it exactly like that, but, yeah."

"Selene," she said again.

For a moment, she looked like she was thinking it over, and then she nodded.

"Edér. Aloth. I'm Selene."

"Yeah! I mean - it's nice to meet you," Edér said. "Again, that is. With names this time."

"It's good to meet you, Selene," Aloth said. He hesitated, darting a glance at Edér, before adding," ...I don't mean to be rude, but I was informed that you were blue. And that you had a tail."

The mermaid - Selene - looked down at her bare legs.

"This is new," she said.

She looked up, and met Edér's eyes.

"I looked at your memories. To make sure I made myself look right. Then I changed. The first time takes a while. That's why I said to come later."

...Was that why his life flashing before his eyes mostly consisted of women he knew? 

Was she looking at his memories of - 

Aloth gasped softly; at first Edér thought that he was also reacting to the memory thing, but apparently he had something else in mind.

"You went through metamorphosis," Aloth said.

Selene blinked.

"Meta?..."

"You altered the structure of your body."

She nodded.

"How - no, that can wait. Why did you do that?"

Edér was right about that, at least: Aloth did know how to ask the right questions.

"The water isn't safe anymore," Selene said. "Someone wants to hurt me. They go into the water to look for me, and now they make traps. I made myself look like you, so I can hide. Will you help me?"

"We will try," Aloth said. "What kind of help do you need?"

"Help me hide."

"By... pretending to be a human?"

She nodded again.

Aloth turned to Edér.

"What are we going to do?" he asked quietly. "We can't just - what, let her live at the ranger station? How would we even explain where she came from?"

Edér was still caught on the fact that Selene had apparently seen some really personal stuff while she was looking for blueprints, but eventually he got himself to focus on Aloth's question.

Ranger station was a bad idea. Aloth's dorm wouldn't work, either.

"...She could stay at my place," he said, finally. "I've got a spare room."

He'd have to move more of Woden's things, but, for a good cause, he could do that.

Aloth gave him a very pointed look.

"...Are you sure about that?"

"Listen, I know how it looks," Edér said, irritated. "You got any better ideas, I'm all ears."

Aloth frowned, but stayed silent.

"Yeah? Something you wanna share?"

"...I suppose until we think of something better, that could work," Aloth admitted, finally.

They turned to Selene again.

It was as if she hadn’t moved or blinked the whole time they were talking.

It was pretty hard to look her in the eye now, knowing what she did. She didn't mean any harm, but... that didn't really make it better.

Was he really going to let her into his house?

Yeah. Yeah, he was. Because she didn't mean any harm, and the people out there would hurt her.

"You can stay with me for a while," Edér said. "If that's fine with you."

After a moment, Selene nodded.

"Thank you," she said.

"Well. Least we can do." He looked at Aloth. "We're gonna figure out who's setting those traps. Then... we'll make them go away, I guess."

"Sounds very easy. Surely, at no point will we run into armed individuals working for the government or a terrifyingly large company," Aloth remarked dryly.

"Hey there." Edér clapped his hand over Aloth’s shoulder. "Look on the bright side: it could be just a bunch of local weirdos. We've had worse than mermaid hunters before."

The corner of Aloth's mouth curled up just a little.

"That is true. There was the deer man, for one."

Gods, he hadn't thought about the deer man in forever.

That was the job, wasn't it? Sometimes you got rowdy campers; sometimes you got a guy running around with a deer skull on his head; sometimes you got a mermaid.

This time, it was a mermaid.

Selene was still standing there, watching them talk, and she was probably getting cold.

"Alright," Edér said. "Let's get you indoors."

[actuallyastingray]

Hello Supablr. Sorry this took forever, but I've been working on a follow up project once I'm done with these. More on that later, so for now just enjoy the takes

Skarra: Feral, cackling gremlin trying to pretend he's not empty inside. Needs a hug, possibly several hugs, but is too afraid of cooties to ask. He's either going to have a Prince Zuko level redemption or go full Anakin Skywalker

Dingaan: Dammit Dingaan! You can't be both the lovable, clueless himbo and dumb, jock bully at the same time. Pick one!

Automatic: So, if we ever get a Rookie Season 2, are we gonna see him become the third wheel in Skarra and Shakes' rivalry? Cause no joke, this guy lost his job to Shakes and has way more reason to hate him than Skarra does

Max Power: I'm not a shipper, but why are there no pairings between him and Shakes? I mean, technically there's two of him, but still

Dooma: Oh Dooma, Dooma, Dooma. The writers made such a big deal about bringing you back, and then they promptly forgot about you. Guess upstaging Skarra really isn't all that easy.

Uber: Somehow, a 6.5, 300+ lb. German muscle man is giving me more babygirl vibes then a Sailor Moon character. Also, it's hilarious when you realize he outranks his coach.

Ja Nein: The rarely seen lovechild between adorkableness and pure evil. The "first day at the unit" meme was invented for this guy specifically.

Thor: If he grows a beard, we can call him Odin

Von Eye: Why did it take me four seasons to realize his name is a pun? What is wrong with me?

Chuck: Seriously, I want to see this guy succeed. I want him train up his team, pull off a win, and feel good about it just so he can tell Toni to screw off

John Johnson: The most loveable himbo in a team that consists of equally loveable himbos

Miko Chen: The only thing not completely wholesome about him is how little screen time he gets. That's about as shameful as Ura-Giri's strategies.

De los Santos: He really needs his own Boss theme, but does that make him the bad guy? Cause lets face it, he's not the bad guy

Don Aldo: That's not how hair physics works

Ninja: The second most absent arch-rival in my history of watching cartoons. At least they both brought him back and gave him an identity as El Matador's rival. Still wish we got to see more of the tigers

Liquido: Ten years ago, if I told myself I would one day describe someone as a "sociopathic surfer-dude" I would start to question my own sanity

Andre Meda: His name is an astronomy pun, his team uses constellations as a secret formation code, and his coach has them train in outer space. This guy is a huge closet nerd, and you can't change my mind.

Vladmir Savich: They made a few half-baked attempts to make him a villain and the fanbase is having none of it. Good for him.

Riano: WHY IS THERE NOT MORE CONTENT OF HIM AND SHAKES BEING FRIENDS? They were such good friends, and we have like zero content to prove it. Do the writers not realize how much of a foil he could have been to Skarra? Riano and Shakes being best friends, and Skarra is feeling like he's been replaced, thus hating Shakes even more. Sorry for the long rant but c'mon Moonbug, this guy had so much potential

[rivetgoth]

Hello I saw your post on HRT and how you said that the difference between 1 year and 5 years is pretty big, and I wanted to ask you what is the difference between 1 year and 5 years? I have some friends who are unable to continue HRT because we live in an area where it's banned and they're in the early stages so I was only able to ask them about their experiences but I want to know more to understand it and support them better. Thank you for answering if indeed you do!

Hey! I’m gonna copy-paste another comment I left for someone else who asked if that’s okay, just because it was pretty detailed and I think I said everything I could possibly say, but it was just a random response to someone so it understandably got drowned by all the other notes my post got haha.

Here (+original link):

When it comes to the long term changes I would most aptly describe it as simply MORE.

All of those “early changes” people talk about, literally every one of them, just continue to happen, in ways that are subtle but absolutely crucial for long term and consistent passing.

More facial hair. More body hair. More bottom growth. More voice drop. More body fat redistribution. More changes to face shape and body shape. More muscle development. More change to the hairline, the skin texture, even just the way your brain works. By year 2 I was still excited when someone gendered me correctly, and still felt almost a sense of imposter syndrome when it did happen. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of masculinity. I think I passed as “trans” more than “male.” 5 years in it’s literally not something I think about. I just live as a man. I get gendered correctly from behind, with long hair, in women’s clothing and makeup… and on the rare occasion I get misgendered it’s the easiest correction to make and it’s immediately apparent to the other person that they were wrong, not me. My maleness is not a question. Nothing massive changed, it was just time.

Think about how cis men age: They don’t become adults and become static beings. Their voice continues to drop. Their hair patterns continue to change and develop. Many cis men can’t grow full beards until their 30s. Their weight patterns and body shapes change. Their muscles change, their skin changes. Aging isn’t a separate process from the masculinization or feminization of testosterone or estrogen. What we often take for granted as parts of becoming older men are still dependent on having a testosterone-dominant endocrine system. It’s not a process that starts and ends. I saw one person in the tags say “At a certain point it becomes a matter of aging as a certain gender,” and I think that’s such a fantastic way of putting it.

I think a lot of the early changes get propagated more in part because they’re easier to describe and more objective. Your voice will get deeper, your period will stop, you’ll begin to grow facial and body hair, your clitoris will change shape, etc are so much easier to articulate in a simple and accessible format than the much more subjective way it looks to age as a man. I think a lot of other issues intersect to make this stuff less acknowledged though, ranging from the simple fact that it’s still something of a rarity to see trans men who have been on T for a substantial amount of time—this stuff being widely accessible is still quite recent—plus the likelihood of long term transitioners to go stealth or at least focus less on their transition and thus their voice being heard less in the community than the younger guys who are still excited to report on every change because it’s all fresh and new (and the confirmation bias of the fact that guys with abnormally fast or significant changes are more likely to talk about it online, creating a false sense that this is the average experience), but also more nefarious and/or systemic issues, like there being no funding for comprehensive, good faith studies on long term transition, fearmongering about HRT positing it as this instant all-or-nothing life ruiner that will have you permanently fucking up your body within your first microdose, and the benefit of pushing propaganda that we CAN’T actually successfully transition, that success and long term happiness in transition is a myth. It isn’t.

[alneedssleep]

Loki Children Headcannons

Disclaimer: probably obvious from the fact I am talking about his children, but this is myth Loki, not Marvel’s bastardisation. 

Sleipnir 

Sleipnir is the eldest and is non-binary (he/they). 

They are capable of taking on a human form and, when they do, they act like a diva who drinks way too much and complains about Odin using him as a steed. 

If they existed in the modern day, they would absolutely dress like a young woman in the 30s – shawl and all. 

Out of all the siblings, he is somehow the one with the highest alcohol tolerance. 

Loki struggled at first to bond with Sleipnir because they were born out of r*pe (depending on how you interpret the only source we actually have on his conception, it could be seen as consensual or not. I personally think it was supposed to be non-consensual but, because the author was Christian, was vague about it). 

Hel 

Her dead side is only mildly blue and bruised looking like a fresh corpse when she is happy. It becomes more grotesque the angrier she gets. She becomes a full-on skeleton on that side when she is furious.  

Hel is a lesbian and occasionally dates some of the women who die and come to Helheim but doesn’t have a consistent partner. 

She is the youngest of all her siblings but ends up acting like the eldest because the only place they can reunite is in Helheim after Ragnarök where she is queen. 

Loki, Sigyn and Angrboda still baby her though. She will never admit to secretly liking it. At least, not in front of her siblings. 

Narfi 

He is trans. I don’t know why, it's just vibes. 

He is the elder of him and Vali.

He is studious and generally much softer and nicer compared to Vali. 

He is a user of seidr (Norse magic) which he learnt from Loki and even Sigyn a bit. This made him a target of teasing as a child since seidr is a girl's thing. 

He has his mother’s dark hair and darker skin with Loki’s green eyes. 

Vali 

He is gay but started off with a lot of internalised homophobia because he was teased for being the child of Loki, a notorious genderfluid in a culture that saw feminine men as a bad thing, and became unwilling to accept what could make him seem like a girl. 

He is a warrior and is prone to rash decisions, making him a lot like Loki. 

Vali and Loki have a bit of a difficult relationship since Vali is a mama’s boy but he is so similar to Loki in many ways (which a large part of him hates but the rest of him can’t help but love). 

He is very muscular with Loki’s red hair and Sigyn’s black eyes. He has a long beard with he braids and decorates with Narfi’s help. 

Jörmungandr 

His first word was “Ssssssnack!” 

He used to either curl up in front of the fire, against Fenrir or in Hel or Loki’s laps. Those memories are the only thing staving off his pain from being a land serpent in the cold depths of the ocean. 

He and Fenrir used to get into play fights all the time as a pup and hatchling and someone would always end up having to break them up before they broke something. 

He can speak in human tongue, but not nearly as well as Fenrir. He is also the only non-human child of Loki who can’t take a human form. 

Fenrir 

He is a cuddly teddy bear and used to sleep curled up in bed with one of his siblings or Loki, Angrboda or Sigyn. 

He was the gentlest of his siblings before being chained up. Even after that, he remained shockingly kind but became very protective over his family as a result. 

He has black fur with an almost purplish tinge and bright yellow eyes. 

He is able to change his size, going from normal wolf to “able to eat the sun and moon” big. 

He has a human form with long, thick black hair, sideburns and the same eerie yellow eyes. 

[drossna]

caduceus lvl.20 redesign i did ages ago but forgot to post

copious amounts of design notes under the cut

tl;dr: my goal with this redesign was to create a coherent design consistent with his previous art, improved enough to hopefully read as lvl.20, but still practical enough to serve as actual adventuring clothes

okay anyways so watch how autistic i can be about caduceus

i wasn't satisfied with caduceus's lvl.20 design. i'm not entirely sure how that design happened. to be fair, critrole designs have never been consistent, but lvl.20 cad abandons nearly every key aspects of cad's design. it drives me batty

why is his hair so straight and pale and dead. why is he draped in so much brown. how do those wing-skirt things work. why does his staff... look like that. like its gonna explode into toothpicks at the first use. why is there honey. why is the gold of his shield so bright. what is the rope on his shoulders for

i mean, who knows what goes on in the critrole art development process. my personal theory is that they continue to design these characters as personal ocs and not as official characters in a huge multimedia franchise, and their personal choices trump all, design considerations be damned. like, i cant really judge. i have the privilege to make whatever choices i want when drawing. i answer to no one. i could tell taliesin jaffe to go fuck himself. yknow. if i wanted to die

regardless, i dont hate everything about the lvl.20 design. i appreciate that it brought back his swirl-patterned pants, but the entire core of his design is so busy with shit that it becomes a problem

i tried to preserve cad's key aspects as much as i could in my redesign, as well as incorporate aspects i enjoyed most from each design. for example, i really like the idea of the goliath beetle armour in lvl.20 cad, but i tinted the black shell towards blue to match cad's signature teal green.

I also tried to create a palette consistent with his previous designs. teal should always be his primary colour, with pink being the most prominent accent. after that, anything thats analogous to those two is gravy. for real, i am begging critrole to at least keep consistent palettes, because this is a problem for most of their designs

my choice to include the red cords is inspired by the winter cad design as well as one of fjord's earlier designs (side note: most of fjord's designs are pretty great; he's the most consistently on-par)

i enjoy drawing aesthetic parallels between connected characters. on that note, the swirly jade earring is a gift from beau :3 because they're fun earring buddies

speaking of cad's winter design, the design sheet showed a lot of asian influence (thats mostly covered by the cloak) and i will take any excuse to add asian influence to a design. the first two tunics below were my main reference for my own tunic choice

the knots on the cords are specifically chinese knot art. the largest knot at his waist is a plate knot which can symbolize the cyclical nature of life and death, and the knot on his cape is a brocade knot which can symbolize (re)unity. i thought these concepts were in-line with cad's general philosophy and the wildmother's teachings. also, the brocade knot acts as his holy symbol with a crook-shaped pin woven through the cord. i really fuck with holy symbols being integrated into a design rather than just slapped on somewhere

lightning round design notes:

the fraying woven material is witch hair moss, which i imagine could be made very soft and warm. this is my version of the neutral-coloured flynet cape in the fourth design

i brought back the iconic pink lichen

i simplied the staff again. my way of visually portraying a growth in power is that the one wooden hand has transformed into many hands grasping the crystal, which is also a representation of cad widening his social circle and of the nein in general

cad curly hair and beard so important to me

cad wide nose so important to me

final note:

the pose i chose for caduceus was very intentional. while cad looks great in a power pose, i feel like it doesnt suit his character. his power isnt so confrontational. his power is quiet and gentle and humble and inevitable. he doesnt need to show off. he's just chilling. i love this dumb silly man

and for the record, while i consider cad to be the worst lvl.20 design, jester is a guaranteed second place. very tempted to redesign her as well, because mature-but-frilly pirate lolita is right up my alley

[izzyspussy]

so doylistly mickey gets visibly cleaner each season (in the first half of the show at least) because he develops from a villain to a romantic lead and "nobody" wants a dirty boyfriend. Just one more reason among many that even straight romance is better written by gays and/or perverts; when we're scared of our attraction to the earthly human body we make our art about it scary instead of just powerwashing all the gross matter off of it (unless of course the inhuman lack of gross matter is a theme being engaged with, i.e. robot/angel fucki- listen, the point is we're not wimps out here doing a "there is no flesh in ba sing se" routine 24/7. cough. anyway...)

but watsonian...ly. there are a lot of really fucking stupid bullshit signs and standards that homophobic straighties use as an excuse to be homophobic toward someone they want to bully. many claim that little homophobia is a totally different beast to big homophobia, and the signs the former 'dars are Real vs the irrational signs the latter 'dars, but in fact the absolutely farcical ones are all the exact same idea as the little ones just exaggerated once or twice*.

for example. little homophobia posits that a man who is "too" preoccupied with his appearance must be gay. if he wears makeup or shaves his legs, of course, but also if he wears too many non-neutral, bright, or "girl" colors (that aren't his sports team's colors), if his pants are too fitted, if he has "feminine" piercings, if he has an elaborate skin care routine.

at one exaggeration, midsize homophobia, we add on if he works out for vanity, if he diets for vanity, if he styles his hair, if uses face wash instead of regular soap, if he wears cologne outside of formal settings, if his pants... fit, if he wears too many different or bright colors at all.

one more exaggeration and it's if he openly or just obviously cares about his appearance. if he does more than rinse his face at all, if he uses shampoo that isn't the cheapest 5-in-1 available, if he has a haircut other than men's number whatever, if he takes good care of his clothing, if he has a beard but it's too neatly trimmed. if he washes his asshole.

and finally we get to he's gay if he puts any thought into his appearance at all. if he wears an outfit instead of whatever random articles of clothing are practical, if he wears deodorant, if he's bothered by being dirty, if he brushes his teeth every day. lapses on these things are allowed but only to impress a sexual partner - as long as she's not "a sure thing".

so. watsonianly. mickey is almost always visibly dirty in season one- well for more than one reason. hygienic dysfunction is one of the most common symptoms of depression and anxiety especially in kids and teens, it's one of the easiest to spot signs of neglect. he's also frequently visibly beaten, and getting beaten gets you dirty in addition to getting you hurt + it hurts to get soap and water in open cuts or to have temperature or pressure changes on bruises that bad. and this doesn't really have any textual support but it doesn't have any textual contradiction as far as i remember either, but a common form of abuse (and torture) is to restrict access to hygiene.

and. in addition to all that. terry is obviously BIG homophobic. so. none of his boys, but ESPECIALLY mickey since he actually IS gay, can be "too" clean. and they are all often visibly unclean, but mickey is noticeably dirtier the dirtiest white boy in america. because he is denying himself cleanliness consciously and on purpose as part of maintaining his closet.

and then! he gets progressively cleaner because a) okay fine i guess nobody wants a consistently unwashed stinky uti risk boyfriend, we just all like it when he comes home from work or recreation with sweat and materials on him. or when he just woke up and he's sweaty and unkempt from sleep. or when he works out and his skin is glistening with sweat. or at the end of the day when his cologne and/or deodorant are wearing off and we can smell his body underneath. or when he plays with an animal or a child or his boys and he gets some on him. or whe- okay, okay, all either mild or temporary, i KNOW okay, FINE. so mickey starts washing up more because he wants to be desirable to ian and to be comfortable and enjoyable to be physically close to for progressively longer periods of time.

and b) mickey's progress with ian is not just in building more intimacy, but also for mickey... just in being comfortable. in being free. the longer he's with ian, the more mickey can let himself forgo the more painful aspects of performing straightness. the less he wishes he was straight, because now being gay has benefits that he cares about, that he wants, and in fact there are reasons that - if it was a choice, for him - he might choose to still be gay.

then in late two and in season three, he's usually clean but visibly dirty again when he gets stressed about outing and/or in scenes where he WILL become stressed about outing. (if only i could believe Those writers would ever have bothered to do something like this intentionally lol. although... i didn't pay enough attention to have an opinion on the costumers; perhaps they took it upon themselves.)

and finally in season four, he's a full blown romantic hero coming out is now inevitable for him, so in reverse of visible dirt foreshadowing/indicating going back or further in now being consistently well groomed - with a somewhat individualized haircut and everything! - foreshadows that he is on his way out/helps telegraph how poorly he fits in his closet now. he stands out from all the other milkoviches except mandy and sveta. he starts forgetting the rules ("you use another man's soap?"). he wears outfits that make him more desirable to the audience fit his body and show he has preferences - the dressed-up look he wore to go get ian, the blue and green madras button down he wore to the uptown gay house party, the blue & white striped and pastel blue & red ringer tanks both making a comeback from their respective first kiss and sleepover scenes in season 3, etc.

and then in season 5 (or at least what i could stand to watch of it) he. well. he looks exactly like his brand of Gay. after coming out, he's doing that "find out who you are and then do it on purpose" thing. clean skin and hair, clothes fit and are clean and coordinated, color palette is more consistent, vibrant, and flattering - and includes "girl" colors now!, etc.

anyway. as always idk how to end the post. but that's today's take. "dirtiest white boy in america" is an aspect of mickey's straightsona.

*i'm aware the standards of homophobia differ across class, this post addresses only the relevant iteration(s)

[ride-thedragon]

HOTD COSTUME INCONSISTENCIES PART 2.

The folks asked. Who am I to deny?

1. Aemond should be a baddie @venmondiese

He isn't an outfit repeater. They just keep putting him in black with different buckles and a popped colour like he's too cool for school. He's Alicent's fave. Why isn't he dressed in green?

2. Jace has a bob? @qyburnsghost

At most, we have a month between seeing Jace with Rhaenyra from when he departed. Why is his hair so long?

3. Rhaenyra has the same hairstyle.

Like consistently throughout season two promo. They are not letting up with the middle part with the twists.

4. Velvet Production in Westeros

They are also in their velvet era. War has started, and Velvet might be the most affordable fabric at this point. Rhaenys the trendsetter you are.

5. Half up half down.

Every baddie also has that half up half down style. Which isn't bad, but it's also a trend from last season, doubled down on.

6. Bob off.

This isn't an inconsistency of anything, but Westeros is about to have a bob off. And that's why they took Fabs out of the running. The girls were not competing .

7. Daemon Targaryen, outfit Repeater.

Either they're worn too close together or too far apart. No sense of timing.

8. The actual faves.

Yk who never repeated an outfit?

Laena and Baela. All their outfits are worn on the same day (Baela is styled differently).

9. Laenor’s locs.

I'd love to see the process of him getting a skin fade in Westeros.

10. Otto Hightower

He does repeat a few times, but what I think is more important is that I don't like his beard and that He still, has the best hightower armour (tangent because this is a bit too negative and I like the show)

11. Strong blood.

Why do none of the actors age. In every other house, at least one person does, and then you have the strong fountain of youth, but male pattern baldness, I guess?

12. Why isn't joff included?

Okay, so the Velaryon boys do match? Why is Joffery exempted?

13. Locs Part 2

Did you all know that Baby Laenor had locs, and so did baby baela for some reason?

[bokutizer]

a/n: couldn't stop thinking about Oikawa with long hair Thinking about that one specific year when Oikawa was, as per usual, not really keen on taking care of himself. You know the drill; way too frequent practice and gym sessions, leaving the house early and coming back late which also didn’t leave much time for him to even have proper meals. However there’s a huge but. A pretty but. A but that consists of shoulder long, chocolate brown hair that would sometimes even get graced by a cute headband. 

Yes, Oikawa Tooru with hair that goes all the way down to his shoulders. Because getting a hair cut during the volleyball season in that year was also not an option (you're honestly glad that you got him to at least shave every once in a while because you’re not sure if he would have actually been able to rock a beard). 

"What'ya doing there, babes?" you hear him walk up behind you, his large form looming over the couch as he wraps his arms around your neck. You smile at his warmth, his smell. 

"Ah, nothing. Got bored and just started scrolling through some- oh wait! Aww, look." you coo once your eyes fall on a pic that dates from the previously mentioned year. 

It’s a picture of you and Oikawa, both sitting in the car after you had picked him up from one of his games. He's still wearing his jersey, his cheeks a little rosy, but what stands out the most is his hair that looks a few inches longer than now. It looks soft and healthy, the strands getting a little curlier towards their ends, a headband that you had bought him keeping it out of his face. And of course, that handsome soft smile of his is plastered on his face as you are leaning over the center console to press a wet kiss on his jaw. 

"Damn, my hair was really long at that time, wasn’t it?" you hear him speak, his head so close to yours that you can almost feel his lips move against your temple. 

"Uh-huh. You looked pretty though." 

"Oh, so now I don’t look pretty?" he whines incredulously, yet doesn’t loosen his grip for even a bit. You tilt your head to look up at him and for a very short second ponder about whether a beard would actually suit him (it wouldn’t) because wow. No matter what hair, clothes or angle, Oikawa Tooru is breathtakingly handsome. But you can’t tell him that since, beside Iwa, there still has to be someone who keeps him down to earth. So instead you just shrug, mutter a teasing "maybe" and resume scrolling through the gallery on your phone. 

"You’re so mean." he grumbles offendedly beside you and buries his head in your neck for a few seconds before his eyes land back on the pictures of his favourite memories. Obviously all of them including you. 

[thegrapeandthefig]

The covered Priapus

Those who have followed me for a while know that I have written a lot about Priapus and I’ve expressed many times that we know very little of him in his pre-roman form. We know he was an important god for the city of Lampsakos, located on the western coast of Asia Minor on the Hellespont (aka Turkey today). While we have scarce literary sources attesting to this, Priapus shows up frequently on coins from this city.

I stumbled on a very recent article, New Evidence for the Late Hellenistic Coinage of Lampsakos (September 2023) which focuses on Lampsacene coinage, and most particularly on a series of coins which depict Priapus. While I won’t summarize the numismatic details - the article is free of access for anyone interested in the full study -, I wanted to focus on a rare depiction of Priapus which shows him with his phallus covered.

But let’s begin with the portraits on some of those coins, just because.

On the two coins above, we can see Priapus’ portrait on the obverse. He is shown as bearded and wears an ivy wreath, with his hair falling down to his shoulders. The reverse depicts Apollo Citharoedus standing, wearing a chiton and mantle, holding a plectrum in his right hand, and a lyre under his left arm.

However, on the following coins, the placement is reversed:

On these, it is Apollo’s portrait who is depicted, with a laurel wreath, his hair tied up in a bun at the back and with some loose locks down the neck. The reverse depicts Priapus as a bearded male figure standing right, his hair tied up at the back, wearing a chiton and mantle, and holding a kantharos in his right hand while he rests a filleted thyrsus over his shoulder with his left hand. All very Dionysian attributes.

The absence of a pronounced erect phallus, and the lack of detail due to the very small scale would make it very easy to see Dionysus instead of Priapus on these coins, if it weren’t for the fact we know where they come from, and the knowledge that those shared attributes are consistent with other examples from the area.

If we compare these Hellenistic coins (mid 2nd century BC) to Imperial ones (from the 1st century AD to the 3rd), the difference is striking:

On these later examples, Priapus is clearly recognizable in the way we most know him, his phallus is clearly visible, though we can also notice some of the traditional attributes.

The covered version of Priapus is called by scholars the “noble”-type Priapus, in opposition with the “traditional” representation called “Anasyrma”-type, where Priapus lifts up his chiton to reveal himself. However, the coins aren’t the only representations of a “noble” Priapus that we know of.

The author of the article points out to this votive:

And I also found, while digging a bit more, this incomplete statue, that is also described as being of him

And in both those cases, the phallus is covered and discretely put away, but still visible in the form of a bulge. In the case of the statue above, I haven’t been able to trace down any other information aside from it being Roman and from the 1st century AD.

But the change of representation is difficult to explain. In another article, The Late Hellenistic Tetradrachms of Parion and Lampsakos, the author brings forth the idea that Priapus might have been elevated from a rural deity to an important civic god in response to a time of crisis, alongside Aphrodite in Lampsakos:

“Cities in the Hellespontine region such as Lampsakos, Sestos, and Kyzikos faced no shortage of extreme dangers in 133–131. It is therefore entirely plausible that an epiphany of Priapos and Aphrodite (and perhaps also of Priapos’ father Dionysos) should have occurred at Lampsakos in the particularly perilous opening stages of the war [against Aristonikos], when Roman support seemed very far away.”

"Although Lampsakos was identified as the home of Priapos from at least the third century, it was only in the late Hellenistic period that the Lampsakenes elevated him to the status of their principal civic deity. However, once this change in status had taken place, Priapos became a natural choice for civic iconography, with the first opportunity to do so on coins apparently occurring ca. 100–70 […]"

The author notes that, if the choice from the Lampsacene to cover Priapus was due to a transition period where he was suddenly pushed at the forefront of civic patronage, this period only lasted a limited time, since he is purposefully shown fully exposed as soon as the Augustan period and for at least the next two centuries that followed.

[bebbie-bilinski]

Hi! Do you have any adhd/asd stiles headcanons? They're always so fun to read!

ohmygosh hello!! boy do i have plenty of headcanons pertaining to autism ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(apologies in advance this is going to be incredibly self indulgent as a lot of these are based on ways autism shows up for me. i'll put a little "*" next to those!)

Autisic Stiles Stilinski Headcanons

it was incredibly obvious that he was on the spectrum when he was growing up - he didnt always respond to his name when called, no eye contact with anyone aside from his mom and dad, had the same outfit in multiples because thats the only thing he felt comfortable wearing, stuff like that! since then he's expanded who he allows himself to make eye contact with like anyone from the pack but its pretty sporadic eye contact and not consistent

was in special education for a portion of elementary school until it was deemed he didnt quite need that anymore *

selective mutism - as a kid he rarely spoke more than a couple sentences throughout the span of a week and because of this he was taught ASL and still uses it when he experiences speech loss (the pack has taken it upon themselves to learn at least the basics to understand stiles when he switches over to that) also sidenote to any autistic people who may be reading this i highly recommend learning whatever version you have of sign language in your country its been such a positive change in my life its so worth learning!

hes a sensory seeker and sensory avoider but his most favorite textures are: rocks, sherpa, faux fur (only the soft and very short kind, water, bamboo fabric, sorta-wet dirt, door frames, beards (if any of the guys in the pack grow out their facial hair get ready for lots of pats from stiles), and the feeling of running his hands over his freshly-buzzed hair *

stims - his stims consist of popping his lips, shaking his head side to side, sucking in air, rolling his tongue, hand flapping, knee bouncing, swaying, spinning, humming, grunting, pacing, touching the textures he likes, having a particular song on repeat, pursing his lips, and laughing! the ones pertaining to age regression are: rattles, having a pacifier in his mouth, and the sound blocks make like getting tumbled over *

safe foods - he is an incredibly picky eater but has safe foods he either has had everyday for years now or some for special occasions: oatmeal, toast, curly fries, lemonade, grilled cheese, mac n cheese (are we seeing a theme here haha), ramen, any sort of veggie-meats, soup, any sort of snack that crunches like cheese itz goldfish veggie straws etc.

his bed - he likes his bed in a very particular way i'll even throw in a pic of the bed frame he has!

he lines all the edges with stuffed animals and/or pillows and does not like having his bed made neat, he likes to keep it looking like a nest and hes very serious about that Noah knows better than to make his bed if he's ever tidying up around the house! he only sleeps with a jersey comforter and a 25lb weighted blanket and does not like laying his head on his pillow but rather hugging it so most nights he sleeps flat against the mattress *

outings - any sort of long outings is going to require a bag of sorts and stiles will often forget to bring such bag, his dad always brings it and makes sure to tell anyone he might be with (like Derek, Lydia, Scott etx) to bring The Bag ™ it consists of: noise canceling headphones, a couple of fidget toys, at least one small stuffed animal, his backup anxiety medication, sunglasses, and a change of the most sensory friendly clothes *