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#it's so much fun lololol
mithrilhearts · 6 months
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For the wip asks: 🌀🌤️💧
Happy procrastinating, same here
Cilil!!! Thank you for joining me on this super productive (see: procrastinating) day!
Let's focus on one I haven't actually posted yet to ao3, which goes well with the first emoji!! Golden Hearts Bleed Faster! Which honestly...this fic is so much fun for me lol, and I can't wait to share it, so stay tuned...who knows what tomorrow will bring.
🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...
Bilbo Baggins, Prince of the Shire, has been left with a kingdom on his back and a ring in his hand after the unexpected death of his parents. Bodyguard Thorin Oakenshield has been brought in to see to the prince’s safety, and do a little investigating of his own on the matter in hopes of coming face to face with the one who turned his mountain, and his life, upside down a few years prior.
🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.
"What flavor do you prefer?" “Pardon?” “Flavor,” Bilbo drawled before pointing towards a list of various flavors that the park's cute little ice cream stand offered. “I'm a vanilla man, myself,” he started, flashing a glance to his armed shadow as a grin crawled across his lips and he promptly adjusted his glasses smartly by lens of one side, “but only when it comes to things like food, but you...you strike me as a vanilla man for everything.”
💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen.
Bilbo’s feet moved against his will, backward he went, following Thorin’s physical order until his back hit the wall, hands pinned over his head, and piercing blue eyes staring him down. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to impress you,” Thorin growled low, adrenaline still pulsing through his veins, and agitation having caused him to move a little too close to make a point. The air felt thick, so much that you could choke on it if speaking too loudly, or too much.  “So, what are you here to do then, if not to impress me?” Bilbo challenged, completely enamored with the position he was in as his fingers wiggled, and Thorin’s palm tightened as he watched his bodyguard’s contemplation.
teasing wips/upcoming projects ask game!
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wispurring-moss · 3 months
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it's funny to me because this isn't even who they actually are in the self-indulgent Hella-Swap AU that lives rent free in my head at all times, but every time i watch this ep my heart yearns so badly for Angel to get to exist as the literal embodiment of (non-self-destructive??) partying & having a good time, so i Finally gave in to the massive need i've had to draw this image for ages now lmao~ TwT
and was this also perhaps just a perfectly plausible excuse to get to draw Husk in a cutoff leather jacket? ...what are you, a cop?? mind your business x'3c
(p.s. if it wasn't glaringly obvious, i definitely cobbled together the bg from the show itself so all the shoutouts/credits/etc. to whichever of the talented crew put together this gorgeous scene; if anyone knows/has links to the specific artist(s) for this one lmk so i can update accordingly~! ✌️✨)
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chloecherrysip · 1 year
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"C'mon, Luigi! Pump those legs!"
"I'm trying, I'm trying. I got bad knees!"
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interstellarlyinlove · 3 months
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Found (June 19th)
word count: 550
@wolfstarmicrofic
There is a red cardboard shoe box that is maybe 78 of Sirius’ current 99 problems. His stupidity is the other 21.
“Did you see it anywhere?” Remus asks.
Sirius deliberately doesn’t look up from his homework. “No.”
“This is so weird. It definitely should be under my bed.”
“So weird,” Sirius mumbles. His face is all sweaty. Sirius swears he won’t do anything this stupid ever again if he gets away just this once.
“You know the box I’m talking about, right? The one with the pictures?”
The box has pretty pictures that Remus takes with his old camera and pieces of paper with scribbled poem excerpts that Sirius now knows like he knows his own name. It has something that Lily told Sirius is called ‘glue’ and maybe seven different notebooks and two scissors and Sirius stole the damn thing. “I think I’ve seen you with it once or twice.” Sirius’ quill snaps in half. 
Remus opens their wardrobe. “Maybe It’s still in my luggage.”
It’s not like Sirius meant to steal it. He was just going through it (which is maybe not that much better) but he always puts it back. And Remus shows all of them his notebooks with all the different spreads and drawings so it’s not a secret. Sirius likes looking at them more than once because they’re pretty and sometimes there are photos of Remus himself scattered throughout that are entirely too gorgeous just to be looked at once, and–
“Ah!” Remus exclaims, and Sirius jumps. “I can Accio it.”  
“No!” Sirius blurts, standing up and heading toward his bed. Why he put the stupid thing under his own bed, he will never know. How stupid–
“No?”
Sirius shakes his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“What doesn’t work like that?”
“The spell.”
Remus raises an eyebrow. “Sure, it does. Look, Accio bo–”
Sirius yanks Remus’ wand from his hand. He blinks. “I–”
Remus blinks. “Are you quite alright?”
No, I am not, Sirius thinks. I stole your crafts box. I’ve clearly lost it. Sirius laughs awkwardly, handing Remus his wand back. “Sorry, I thought that was mine.”
“You–”
“Maybe James has it.”
“Has what?”
“My wand,” Sirius says, then he gets an idea. “Your box! I saw it with James. James has it.”
“James has my box?” Remus asks. “And– and your wand?”
Sirius nods. 
“Why would James have–”
Sirius fake laughs. “Why does James have anything? He’s an enigma, really.”
Remus is looking intently at Sirius as he summons the stupid, stupid box. It flies out from under Sirius’ bed and hits Sirius’ calves, making him fall over.
“Did that come from–”
“Ow,” Sirius all but screams. “I’m hurt.”  
Remus takes Sirius’ hand to help him up. “Did you take my box?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, that came from under James’ bed–” (James’ bed is the bed furthest away from Sirius’) “–My legs hurt! Ouch.” 
Remus is grinning. “I’m sorry about your legs.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Sirius doesn’t look at Remus once. “I’m glad you found your box. Let’s go have dinner.”
“Let’s,” Remus says, opening their bedroom door and ushering for Sirius to walk in front of him. Sirius’ brain is mostly fried. He hopes Remus doesn’t think too much about what just happened. 
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steve-brules-rules · 4 days
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Babe wake up, new lgbt wiz icons just dropped
I have a buncha other drawings I wanna get to, so icons are on hold for a lil while, but I’m definitely not done with them forever!!
EDIT: As always, please please use these anywhere you want!!! I can't force you, but crediting the artist is always appreciated :]
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thecookieshop · 2 years
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There on his shoulder my best friend is bit seven times He runs washing his face in his hands Oh how I meant to tease him Oh how I meant no harm Touching his back with my hand I kiss him I see the wasp on the length of my arm
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sensitiveheartless · 2 years
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PLEASE DO FALLING ASLEEP TO THE OTHER'S HEARTBEAT- I'VE HAD THIS IDEA OF CHUUYA FALLING ASLEEP TO DAZAI'S HEARTBEAT, AND HE'S MANIPULATING IT TO BE CALMING FOR SO LONG-
ahem, sorry for the yelling - goblin anon
YESS this works so well with Dazai’s whole controlling his heartbeat thing you’re right!!
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hyylia · 7 months
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A DRINK WITH DESTINY ──
botw/totk modern au | rated T major characters: zelda, link summary: for galentine's, zelda and her friends decide to check out hyrule's newest bar, the lost woods. word count: 1695 warnings: alcohol mentions/use
a/n: happy (late) loftwing letters @angelicgarnet! you said you like botw/totk zelink and modern au's so have this modern meet-cute story :) i hope you like it!
read it below the cut or on ao3 → here
It’s five o’clock. The Lost Woods has just opened, and it’s only a matter of time before a crowd makes its appearance. Link’s spent the last hour preparing for it: stocking the bar with an array of cheap liquor and top-shelf alike, cutting garnishes, filling the bin with ice. The Galentine’s event tonight had been his clever idea—a way of bringing in and establishing patrons for Hyrule’s newest bar. 
“Go ahead,” he calls out to the band in the corner, tucked away on a small wooden stage. The head of the band, a tall woman with a dark brown bob, nods her head and readies her violin. Light, traditional Hyrulean folk music fills the silence hanging in the bar, just as the crowd begins to slowly trickle inside. 
“I’ll have a Champion.” A Gerudo woman with long, red hair sits at the bar mere moments later, handing him her card between two fingers. “And a Zora’s Scale for my friend.” Her head tilts in the direction of the shorter redhead who takes up the barstool beside her. Link nods, mindlessly pulling the Champion into a tall glass, slowly falling into the motion of making drinks. “And another friend will be joining us soon. Put her on my tab when she comes in.”
“Sure,” he says easily. “What does this friend look like?”
“You can’t miss her,” the Gerudo says with a knowing smile and a wink. She takes a sip of her Champion, then nudges the Zora beside her to do the same. Link shrugs, turning away to take the order of another woman. 
Eventually, a steady stream of patrons occupy the bar, groups of young women eager to celebrate their friendships and drink on a good deal. The music becomes a background to the loud chatter taking place, and at some point, the Gerudo and Zora leave their barstools with their drinks in hand, mingling with a few others they must know. He turns his attention to his work, focusing solely on getting his drinks just right.
Some time later a voice cuts through the bar. It’s soft and sweet, clear as day to him despite the noise. His attention is shattered at the sound of it. He looks up, distracted.
“Sorry I’m late!” The voice says hurriedly to the Gerudo from earlier, holding a soft blue purse close to her body. She pulls the gold chainlink strap up onto her shoulder with one hand, then runs the same hand through her blonde hair in an attempt to smooth it down into place. From far away, Link can’t hear the rest of the exchange, but he sees the Gerudo wave the apology away. She says something to the woman, then points her towards the bar. Towards him. 
The Gerudo was right; he couldn’t miss this woman.
Link has bartended for years—mostly on the side, only recently full-time. He’s flirted, exchanged phone numbers, the whole nine yards. But she… She is like something out of a fairytale. Her golden hair lays in silky straight strands, bangs clipped out of her face with blue butterfly clips. Her eyes are big and beautiful, green like emeralds and accentuated by dark brown cat-eye liner. The pink gloss on her lips seems to glow, reflecting the dim light around them. She is the first woman to make him feel truly nervous.
“Hi,” her soft voice says. She stands on her tiptoes, leaning over the dark mahogany bar to speak to him. It’s unnecessary. Even with all the noise, his attention is focused solely on her. Listening.
“What can I get for you?” He says, trying to look casual as he pours another cocktail through a strainer. He sits the glass on the bar in one quick, fluid motion towards its recipient.
“Oh. Um.” Her green eyes trail from the drink and over to settle on the framed specials sheet sitting atop the bar. They scan the sheet slowly, taking in every detail. Finally, she frowns. “I’m sorry. I don’t really drink…”
“That’s okay,” he says quickly, sounding maybe a bit overenthusiastic. “Do you want something sweet or dry?”
She chews her lip. “Maybe somewhere in the middle? Probably more sweet I think. But not too sweet.”
He nods. Normally when women don’t know what to order, he makes them a classic. A Castletonian, or a simple Zoran’s with cranberry. It’s hard to go wrong with either of those, and if they don’t like it, well… then he has a better idea of what to make for them next time. Yet, for her—for this goddess standing before him—something else comes to mind entirely. 
He takes a step away from the bar, conjuring the supplies up quickly from the shelf behind him. Her eyes follow intently all the while, taking in each and every motion he makes. For good measure (and maybe because he likes the feel of her eyes on him), he shoves the sleeves to his blue shirt up over his elbows before he continues. The Master Sword tattoo on his right forearm is fully visible now. She seems to smile at the sight of it.
“How long have you guys been open?” she asks. He’s grateful for her attempt to fill the heavy silence hanging between them.
“Just a couple of weeks.”
“Cool…” Her eyes fall away from him now, taking in the scenery around them. They focus on the plants filling every corner, fake vines crawling up the few faux stone ruins around the room. Finally, they land on the band playing in the corner. “I like it. The theme is really cool.”
“Thanks,” he says, sincerely. Then he shrugs. “I’ve been interested in Ancient Hyrulean stuff for a while. I thought it’d make a cool bar concept.”
Her eyes light up, snapping back to him. “Me too! Well, not the bar thing.” She rushes to explain. “That sounded negative. I don’t mean it like that—it’s a cool concept. I just… I’m actually an archeaology major at the university.”
“Really? I thought about going to school for history.”
She leans forward. “Why didn’t you?” 
“I’ve always been bad in school. Trouble focusing, sleeping during class, that kind of thing. I’ve never been super disciplined, I guess.”
“I get it,” she says, but he can tell from the tone of her voice that she doesn’t. No–this woman strikes him as intelligent. She’s probably never made below an A-plus in any of her courses.
He nods without thinking and, with one final motion, garnishes her drink with a simple Silent Princess. It floats lightly on top of the light blue liquid, edible gold glitter shining with every swirl of the martini glass.
“What’s it called?” She wonders aloud as she takes the glass from his hands, peering inside.
“The Princess.” 
Her eyes widen. Her mouth opens, then closes. A dark red flush crawls up her skin.
“Oh,” she says quietly. Then, as if realizing what he’s done, her eyes narrow. She eyes the glass suspiciously. “And do you make The Princess for every fair lady who enters your establishment, sir?” Her faux-royalty accent makes him smile.
“Only for you. It seems fitting.”
Despite the dim lighting, her cheeks burn fiercer. She smiles. 
“Oh. Then thank you.” 
“What’s your name?” he asks finally. It’s his turn to lean against the bar, resting his chin lazily on a hand.
“Zelda,” she says with a soft smile. He widens his eyes. 
Zelda, like the ancient princesses from thousands and thousands of years ago. Either it’s a coincidence or—
“Are you teasing me?”
“No,” she laughs, “that’s really my name. What’s yours?”
“Link.” Her mouth falls open. She laughs harder. It’s a lovely sound and makes his heartbeat quicken. 
“Like the hero?” 
“The very same, actually. My dad was really into military history. Wars and stuff.”
“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Hero,” she teases, holding a hand out for him to take.
“Same for you, Princess.” Feeling bold, he pulls her hand closer. His mouth lightly brushes the back of her hand. It hovers. At the very last second, before he pulls away, his blue eyes flick up to meet hers. She dares to hold his gaze. 
They break away only for her to take a sip. 
“Mmm! It’s perfect!” 
“Good.” He gives a lopsided grin, releasing her hand. “I’ll make as many as you wish, Princess. On one condition.”
“And what might that be?”
He points his finger up in the air, towards the rickety wooden sign hanging above the bar. Drink Responsibly. Don’t Get Lost, it says, scrawled in someone’s poor attempt at mimicking Ancient Hyrulean script.
She laughs. “Clever.”
“Thanks.”
“Zelda!” The Gerudo’s voice cuts through the bar. “Come here!” 
“Sorry,” she apologizes, wincing. She hesitates to move away from him. “Thanks again.”
And like that, she’s gone.
He’s closing up the bar when something catches his attention. A specials sheet, removed from its frame and torn in half, sits between half-full glasses on the bar. When he peers closer, there’s text.
Thanks for everything. You were really nice tonight. I’d love to get to know you more.  -Zelda
Below the text, a set of numbers is scrawled in pretty handwriting. Her phone number. Link grabs the paper quickly and wastes no time in sending her a text.
Her phone buzzes, just as she enters the shared apartment with Urbosa and Mipha. Warm and fuzzy, stumbling slightly from the alcohol, Zelda struggles only momentarily to pull her Slate from the pocket of her jacket. It lights up when she finally does, the notification quickly expanding on her screen.
Hey, it’s Link, the bartender. Thanks for giving me your number, I’d love to hang out some time. :)
Zelda blinks once. Twice. 
“How’d he get my number?” She asks no one in particular. Had she given it to him? Did she forget? It’s possible, she muses. The Princess had been stronger than it’d tasted.
“Sorry, Zel.” Mipha is the first to crack, her voice soft and nervous. “But you should have seen the way you two looked at each other.”
“And, Princess,” Urbosa gently mocks, a wide, mischievous smile spreading across her face. “He’s handsome.”
Zelda can’t say she’s angry.
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storge · 1 year
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Actually, I don't have to wait for the three-month period to end. I can tell you to leave now. If my investigative methods did cause trouble for everyone, I'm willing to reflect on myself and accept all decisions. If you cause trouble again… You can punish me anyhow you see fit.
When a Snail Falls in Love (2023)
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bunnieswithknives · 9 months
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hello! Quick question, my friend is writing a YHS FIC and they really want to get the characters accurate. Do you have any major personality details about YHS!Bunny and what their goals are? Of why they want to investigate and stuff like that?
Also, if you don’t mind: In the Mx. Sinister animatic, there was a scene with bunny and a bunch of written papers and we’re having trouble deciphering some of them. What does this one say?
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Thanks in advance!!
Bunny is meant to be a character with schizophrenia, though I'm sure my portrayal isn't very accurate(partially just because I suck at staying in character lol) but this is nonetheless a central part of them!
Bunny's delusions and paranoia lead them to very frequently feel unsafe and isolated. Even when they aren't experiencing hallucinations, their negative symptoms mean they struggle to keep friends.
The disappearances caused a very sharp spike in their symptoms. Nova, previously being one of their few friends a suddenly withdrawing' and having 180 personality shift and was massive hit to their very slim social life and an even bigger hit to their paranoia. I'd say that was the moment when they went from a more passive paranoia to full blown red-string conspiracy, and obsessively taking pictures of everyone and everything (The polaroid camera is a result of one of their delusions, they are terrified of anything hosted digitally being tampered with and so the polaroid are loophole that they can use to assure themself of reality)
Bunny's main goal in life is to feel safe. Unfortunately for bunny, that's kind of unattainable in a town like that.
Especially in the current arc of having been kidnapped and tortured... yeah lets just say they aren't doing so well. Quite a few things they were paranoid about have been validated, they are in constant agony from their missing face chunk and they have developed multiple substance addictions from being force fed pills. Their safety is now totally and utterly out of their hands and I think its kind of broken them a little bit, they are so miserable and hopeless that its kind of wrapped back around. To put it simply they definitely have some Stockholm syndrome going on.
Fizzy takes care of them, Fizzy helps feed them, Fizzy makes sure they don't bleed to death after Chaos hurts them.
Chaos likes(?) their company, Chaos gives them happy pills, Chaos doesn't kill them.
In a very twisted way Fizzy and Chaos are all that they have, and the only people who still care about them.
As for the photo:
it doesn't say anything in particular, its meant to be incoherent nonsense but if I remember correctly its "No" "Yakuza?" "Could be" "Spies?" "Maybe"
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frostbite-the-bat · 2 years
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DJ CADENCE IN THE HOUSE!!!
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lululawrence · 1 year
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As a non American can you explain why are there 3 concerts in Ohio? Is it a really big and populated state? Or else Louis could've done 1 bigger venue.
Djebdishdisvjdvsh
Sorry. I had to scream a little in the car because listen 😂😂😂 when the dates were announced I wanted a single show in Ohio. We get passed over all. The. Time. So often. So I first saw cuyahoga hills and was like…. Why there??? Nothing is there??? 😂 but OHIO! And then I saw Cincinnati and I was like… Cincinnati too???? Okay! Hitting the northeast corner and southwest corner of the state! Cool! And then Columbus too??? Like I legit texted @londonfoginacup asking like HOW MUCH DOES LOUIS LOVE US THAT HE IS GIVING US THREE OHIO SHOWS? Like we have to go to all three to show him Ohio loves him and this wasn’t a mistake right??? 😂
Which we obviously did. But we were just as surprised as you, I PROMISE YOU.
That said, there’s a lot of reasons why he could have chosen three shows here.
One: Ohio has three major metropolitan areas in the one state, which is pretty rare outside the super large and populous states. He’s hitting the three major markets and since he seems to be trying to hit even the smaller areas that don’t get much attention with this tour, it makes sense for that alone really.
Two: Location. Ohio is a state in an area of the country called the Midwest, but we are located in a pretty central area. This could explain it as well, because he’s not going to Kentucky (the state south of us) and I don’t think he’s going to Pittsburgh? (The closest large city east of us, he played there last year on Valentine’s Day hehe) which means they’ll be looking for shows to attend closeby, and Ohio can offer that. So while he’s also hitting Indianapolis (closest large city west of us) and already hit Detroit (another large city in the state north of us), he’s also not playing West Virginia (another state that borders us) and… yeah. Lots of people in that space who will be needing a place closeby to see him.
Which brings us to three: Population. We aren’t the MOST populous state or anything, there’s a reason people get us confused with Iowa and Idaho lol but, that said, we are the tenth (or seventh??) most populous according to the google search I just did lol different sites disagree, but when you consider there are fifty states, that’s still a good showing lol considering we have so many other populous areas surrounding us that the concerts would also draw from, that could have also been a contributing factor.
And lastly four: SCENERY. Listen. Ohio gets shit on a lot for being a “boring” state or a “flyover” state (aka no one comes here as a destination) and it pisses me off lol every single person I’ve ever brought to Ohio has been surprised when they got here because there was so much more here than they thought and parts of the state are GORGEOUS. I mean did you see the flyover view that John Delf did on Instagram of the cuyahoga falls venue??? That’s actually in a national park and it is just stunning there with gorgeous hiking and waterfalls and shit in the near vicinity. It’s amazing. And the venue he played tonight in Cincinnati was literally right on the Ohio river that creates the southern border for our state, and it had a view of one of my favorite bridges I’ve ever seen! PLUS!!! Tonight there was a full moon, and it was right above the bridge and Louis got to look at us AND THE BRIDGE AND MOON THE ENTIRE TIME. How gorgeous is that??? Like look at this shitty photo I took. Incredibly beautiful.
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That’s from the railing that was only a short distance behind me and the sound guys for the concert so. Not shabby, right?? Now the venue in Columbus is right downtown in what we call the arena district because the arena where our hockey team plays is right across the street and the baseball stadium is next door and the new soccer stadium is in the area now too, so it’s got loads of venues and restaurants and shit right there and Kemba is one of the best indoor/outdoor venues in town now. I’ve seen several shows there over the years, and it’s great every time. It’s got good sound, a good setup, and the staff is always fantastic so while it’s maybe not the coolest venue, I do love when artists I enjoy come there. Not sure of the appeal on Louis’ end, but ¯\__(ツ)__/¯
So, taking all of these points into consideration, it does make a bit more sense… but three does still seem like he just felt like being overindulgent to us and show us extra love 😂😂 as emmu said, I guess Louis loves us best hahaha
We are just kidding, please don’t send me hate lol
I honestly also do not know why he chose to do this for us, but it makes travel plans a lot easier for us and I’m really fucjing thankful haha I’ve mostly been worried we wouldn’t be able to fill the venues sufficiently but so far so good so here’s hoping Columbus shows up too haha Heaven only knows parking and driving in Columbus is a fuck ton easier than doing so in Cincinnati 😂
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After the Benji mother in law AU and you saying you ship Benji with everyone I decided to show here what i ship in the story, for educational purposes (so you can confirm if anything could be canon)
Benji/Sahota
Hunter/Kaius
Joy/Finley (obviously)
Vic/a fucking ditch in the Road, this man can go fuck himself because no one else Will do it.
these are exactly what's in the back of my head at all times skfnkfkf I love Hunter and Kaius together because of how similar yet opposite they are. (Of course they're in for a MAJOR slow burn if they end up romantically involved. I take enemies to lovers very seriously /lh)
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evanescentsun · 1 year
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shadybug 🐞
she isn’t impressed with u.
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carewyncromwell · 8 months
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"You want a ride to fame? I've got the fastest route! What's it gonna be? Are you in or out?"
x~x~x~x
HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri // Rakepick's outfit // Duncan's outfit // the more "court-worthy" outfit Duncan eventually bought for Jacob
x~x~x~x
The day Jacob Cromwell first arrived at the palace of Spades, he earned more than a few skeptical side-eyes. It was hard not to judge Jacob poorly, when he strolled inside dressed in clothes more appropriate to working in a mechanic's shop than in one of the most powerful royal courts in Cinderhaven. His black slacks and white shirt were clean and his boots were polished, yes, but he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and the lone pop of color in Jacob's outfit -- his red suspenders -- were far too informal for such a setting. And yet Jacob walked with his head held high, almost arrogantly so, and went straight to work in his new workshop just down the hall from the office of his boss, the also very recently installed Jack of Spades, Duncan Ashe.
One of those most skeptical of Jacob -- at least at first -- was the Ace of Spades, Patricia Rakepick. She had been the one hold-out in selecting Duncan as Ulrich Scheller's replacement, citing his young age and subsequent lack of experience as rationale, but she'd ultimately been overruled. Not only did the King of Spades, Oskar Doyle, support Duncan's promotion, but the Queen of Spades had agreed with it too, before her tragic death. Even Ulrich Scheller himself was steadfast about Duncan being the one to take his old position.
"Mr. Ashe may be young, but he has discerning judgment -- far better than even I had at his age," the former Jack had said. "I've always valued his counsel as my subordinate, and I think the Court of Spades will come to appreciate that very same counsel once he takes my place."
Rakepick was not convinced. And, to be fair, it was hard for her not to feel some resentment at how seemingly easily it had been for Duncan Ashe to climb the ranks of power, while still fresh out of university. Perhaps it was dumb luck or the fact that Duncan was a young man with a good sense of dress from a reasonably well-respected family -- a more objective source might also have pointed out that Duncan was a far more likable person than Rakepick. Even despite his brusqueness, he could be witty and funny and yet also dedicated, down-to-earth, hard-working, and supportive. Duncan chased his ambitions with laser-precision, and yet he also never failed to take helpful input from the people around him. His pride was never so inflated that he couldn't take constructive criticism or admit when he was wrong, nor was it an obstacle to him making iron-clad friendships that gave him people in his corner who stuck with him solely out of sincere enjoyment for his company.
Rakepick's critical view of Duncan Ashe, however, completely justified her initial suspicion of Jacob Cromwell. This suspicion quickly flickered out, though, when she made a point to stop by the Jack's stooge's new workshop.
It was still quite early that morning — most of the King’s, Jack’s and Ace’s staffs had only just started their work for the day -- and yet that oddly chipper new "favorite" of the Jack of Spades' was already hard at work. He’d arrived a good half hour before his scheduled shift and used that extra time to hang up the blueprints for the couple dozen projects he'd already hashed out to show "Ashe" when he arrived later that morning. Then, at his formal start time, Jacob set about testing out his new power-saw (which the curly-haired young man had fanboyed over when he first saw it) to cut out a metal skeleton for his blimp prototype while also making some alterations to the blueprint on his desk.
By the time Rakepick dropped in, she found Jacob in the midst of a short "break" in his work, which entailed him adjusting the screws on a device set up under his desk.
Because Jacob was so preoccupied with what he was doing, he didn't get a good look at who had entered. And because he was so used to being an overworked part-time mechanic, cook, and librarian, his first instinct was not to stop what he was doing, introduce himself to the person, and ask how he could help them, but to greet the stranger cheerfully without even looking up from his work.
"Hey there! Come on in and look around if you’d like — I’ll be right with you!"
Rakepick cocked her eyebrows at the young man largely obscured under the desk, tightening the screws on what looked like the foot pedal of an old sewing machine. With a roll of her eyes, the Ace looked around — only to be startled by the prototype hanging over her head.
It resembled — for lack of a better term — a small mechanical dragon, with its “head” and “limbs” cut into halves hanging from separate wires. The wings were crafted out of aluminum, carved wood, and fabric, and the “body” was a balloon with multiple model stairways attached to it and aluminum “legs” hanging off of them and cut open to show off rooms on the inside. Even the head (adorned with two thick lightning rods as horns) was cut down the middle to show off a miniature cockpit on the inside.
Rakepick actually raised her gloved hand to shift the head around, her eyes widening with interest upon the intricately designed interior. It even had a miniature control panel with what looked like tiny fuses. When she tapped at one of the levers inside the model, two spotlights appeared out of the dragon’s mouth, casting a light down onto the multiple blueprints laid out on the desk.
"It’s a modified blimp," said Jacob’s voice from under the desk. "Those mouth lights would be hydroelectric-powered, via collected rainwater -- I originally thought of using solar power, but too much concentrated heat could run a risk of the thing catching fire, since the blimp itself would use hydrogen...much less rare alternative to helium…"
Rakepick raised her eyebrows. "Hydroelectric power, you say?"
Didn’t Duncan Ashe bring up something once about hydroelectric power in one of his meetings with Ulrich Scheller…?
"Yeah!" said Jacob cheerfully, still not looking up. "I brought it up to Ashe a while ago, shifting our main source of power away from coal and toward hydroelectric -- and he thinks it’d be a great way to save money for other projects. Plus water's much less hazardous to work with…though if coal can be mined more safely, I reckon it could still be used, just in smaller amounts…still need to make a prototype or two for that project…"
Then this person was where Duncan Ashe stole that idea from. Rakepick pursed her lips. It seemed this new Jack really was good at getting credit not rightfully owed him.
"But hey, there's only so much time in a day!" Jacob laughed to himself. "Only sent my letters of resignation in yesterday morning — didn't really have time to get all these ideas out of my head, before that…"
Rakepick glanced around. By her count, she could see five unfinished blueprints hung up on the wall, one more and several printed graphs on the work bench next to an old phonograph, and what looked like a row of small plant boxes with thermometers stuck in each one.
"…You did all this just in one day?" she asked.
"In half a day, a night, and some of this morning. But yeah."
This boy works hard, thought Rakepick.
"Though a few ideas I'd been ruminating on for a while, beforehand," Jacob pressed on. "I just hope it's enough…I've never worked as any kind of advisor before. Don't really know how much my work will be commission-based and how much will be free-lance…"
Rakepick crossed her arms, considering the young man's spade-gloved hands under the desk testing out the little sewing machine wheel he'd attached to the leg of his desk. Only when he turned it did Rakepick realize it was attached to the phonograph on the desk, and the wheel turning also made the crank handle rotate.
"I think that depends on whether that project on your desk is something the Jack commissioned," said Rakepick, "or if you came up with it for him by yourself."
Jacob laughed. "Oh, this? Nah, this is just a personal project...I wanted to use it back at the mechanic shop, originally, but I didn't have proper room for it...Wyn, my sister Carewyn, she let me keep it in pieces under our window, until I could figure out where to put it -- "
Once Jacob had finished his adjustments, he got up off the floor at last, sat down in his chair in front of the blueprint, and pressed the foot pedal. The pedal made the wheel rotate, which subsequently turned the crank on the phonograph so that it could play the record set on it.
"When the red, red robin comes bob-bob-bobbin' along...along... There'll be no more sobbin' when he starts throbbin' his old sweet song..."
Jacob's almond-shaped blue eyes lit up in delight seeing his invention working right, and he cheerfully sing along to the next few lines.
"Wake up -- wake up, you sleepy head! Get up -- get up, get out of bed! Cheer up -- cheer up, the sun is red! Live, love, laugh, and be happy..."
Rakepick's eyes trailed over the modified phonograph, along the careful metal-work attaching the disparate pieces and the screws securing them to the work bench. All this effort and inventiveness, for something this boy wasn't intending to get any reward for from his employer...
Rakepick's lips curled up in a very slight smirk. She had to admit -- she was impressed.
Still pedaling away to play the song on the record, Jacob finally looked up at the person who'd entered his workshop with a smile. That smile dimmed, though, when he realized just who he was talking to.
"Oh," said Jacob, startled. His foot stopped pedaling as his eyes flitted quickly to the sword at Rakepick's side and the stylized silver-white pauldrons on her shoulders. "Uh...you with the military or something?"
Rakepick smirked. "'Or something.' Patricia Rakepick -- Ace of Spades. And you'd be Jacob Cromwell, of course."
"Uh -- yeah." Jacob looked sheepish.
Rakepick's smirk widened a bit. "You seem surprised to see me."
"Sorry -- I didn't think anyone outside of Ashe's people would be interested in any of this," said Jacob, sounding slightly abashed as he crossed one leg across his lap. "I mean, this stuff's really more for interior projects -- nothing that fancy..."
"You sell yourself short, Master Cromwell," said Rakepick. She once again indicated the prototype of the blimp hanging from the ceiling. "Frankly I'd say with a brain like yours, you could make a rather fine Jack yourself, some day."
Jacob's blue eyes went very wide. Then, almost immediately, his expression gained a much darker look -- one that swept through offense and disgust so thoroughly that it was close to revulsion.
"Uh -- no," he said incredibly bluntly. "Ashe is the Jack."
"I never said he wasn't," said Rakepick, "merely that you're more than qualified for such a position. More qualified than many candidates I could envision as Jack...or King, for that matter..."
"I wouldn't want the post, in any case," Jacob cut her off. "I'm not here to do Ashe's job, or the King's."
So this boy had no ambition in that direction? That was reassuring, to Rakepick.
"Good to hear it," said the Ace, before she added a bit more lowly, "...Though it occurs to me that may be why you were brought here in the first place."
Jacob's eyebrows furrowed. Rakepick folded her arms behind her back as she considered him.
"Mr. Ashe brought up your ideas to the rest of court, long before your arrival," she said grimly. "He's glided to where he is partly on the back of your creativity -- is it so surprising that he'd want to keep leeching off of your efforts and use them to earn further prestige for himself?"
Rakepick's eyes narrowed a bit.
"Your talents are far too impressive for you not to get full credit for them, Master Cromwell. I can think of quite a few projects outside of the Jack's domain that could use a mind like yours -- ones that would pay very well and offer further rewards, for your efforts."
Jacob, however, had already closed himself off visibly -- he slouched back in his chair and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing.
"No offense, Madam Ace, but I'm not here for money or 'prestige' or whatever. I don't give a damn about politics -- I'm here because I want to do something useful, not prance around like a show horse, schmoozing with people. The only power I care about is the power in my brain and in my own two hands -- and I intend to use them to work really hard and make things that solve real problems. I want to help Ashe and the Country of Spades, however I can."
Rakepick's brows raised. This boy wasn't interested in financial reward either? A truly rare breed, to find at court.
"...That's quite noble of you, Master Cromwell," she said, and she meant it. "And it's for that reason that my offer still stands. If you wish so much to be of use, your talent and creativity would be incredibly useful, in giving the army the means to protect the Country of Spades. Your blimp prototype, for instance -- I imagine it could be a perfect flagship, with some minor alterations and a proper set of guns -- "
"Guns?" Jacob repeated, appalled. "Madam, the blimp of that prototype is full of hydrogen. Anything using gunpowder could risk setting the whole thing ablaze. That flying machine is strictly meant for long-distance transport, to reduce travel time and be more resilient to bad weather..."
"A very good idea, when our King has to travel frequently to other parts of Cinderhaven."
The stylishly dressed Jack of Spades had materialized seemingly out of nowhere and walked up behind Jacob's chair, bringing his hand onto his subordinate's shoulder. Jacob looked up at him, and his expression immediately brightened.
"Ashe!"
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"I'm flattered that you approve of my staff appointments, Madam Ace," said Duncan, though his voice betrayed a notable edge, "but as you might've noticed, Jacob has quite a few projects already in the works for his place here, working for me. I'm afraid any commissions you might wish to offer him will have to wait."
Rakepick pursed her lips. She got the feeling that Duncan had overheard a lot more of her and Jacob's conversation than he would've admitted -- he was more than clever enough to eavesdrop for important information before making himself known.
"Perhaps," she granted. She turned on her heel, but paused long enough to shoot a cold smile over her shoulder at Duncan. "But don't hoard him away all for yourself, Mr. Ashe. A young man of talent like Master Cromwell could change the world, so long as he has the freedom to chase his own success."
Duncan clenched his jaw as the Ace strolled off.
"Don't hoard him away" -- you dodgy geebag, if you even think of trying to snatch Jacob up for yourself -- !
"What a weird woman."
Duncan looked at Jacob, startled, to see the man frowning very deeply at Rakepick's retreating back.
"She acts like she's complimenting you, and then she says things that make absolutely no sense," Jacob muttered irritably. "'So long as he has the freedom to chase his own success' -- as if I somehow don't? And insinuating that I'm here to do your job...I'm a technology guy, I'm not here to waste time kissing up to people..."
"Good to know you think I'm wasting time," Duncan said very dryly.
Jacob looked sideswiped. "Huh? What, no -- I didn't say that! I said it'd be a waste of time for me to do that..."
"Of course it would -- I'm already doing it," Duncan cut him off smoothly with a wry smile.
His smile then faded as his face grew more serious.
"...Jacob...what Rakepick said...it's not true, not a bit of it. Of course, yes, I did share your ideas at court -- but I did not take credit for them...I told the former Jack they were yours. And I didn't want you here so you could do my work for me or make me look better. I wanted you here because...well, your ideas are useful, and I..."
I want you around. I want you around all the time, not just at that old tavern every Tuesday and Thursday...
Duncan swallowed, his dark eyes flitting down to Jacob's lips and back up into his blue eyes.
"...I do...want you to succeed. I want your work to be appreciated. All of it -- whether it's for me or not."
Jacob grinned. It made his blue eyes sparkle, even though his face lacked any light of revelation about the unspoken sentiment in Duncan's posture.
"I know, Ashe," he said. "And that's all I want, really, to know my work means something. Sure, the paycheck's great -- " he gave a cheekier grin, " -- makes it easier for me to support myself, Wyn, and Mum, you know...but I took the job because you wanted my help, needed my help. And well, you know me...I like to help people. Especially the ones I care about."
Duncan tried very hard to bite back the flush rising in his cheeks. Somehow Jacob completely missed it, though, because his focus was drawn to the blueprint he'd left on his desk.
"Speaking of which!" he said brightly. He snatched up the blueprint and held it up for Duncan to see. "I sketched out a concept for a new hydroelectric generator, for your upcoming meeting with the King of Spades! I suggested several dimension sizes, since I wasn't sure how big the boiler here is, but I thought the palace would be a good place to test its efficiency and ability to heat multiple levels..."
Duncan looked it over and nodded in approval.
"Not bad," he said, and his lips unfurled in a more mischievous smile. "I think the King and the rest of the court will be very impressed with it, and you, when you accompany me to the meeting."
Jacob was taken aback. "Wha -- ? You want me to -- ?"
"Yes -- but only after I take you shopping for some new clothes. I'm not introducing you to Oskar Doyle in red suspenders."
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