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pissthena · 3 years

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Ey some Hakon x Aiden idea renting at my mind (a bit reference of cloud in final fantasy) when Aiden dress like a girl in a long black strife dress (cloud's dress for reference), bra pads stuff in his dress, light makeup to cover his scars and in a wavy long hair for a big mission where he need to accompany the renegades distracted while hakon and lawan destroyed the main source of the renegade's power, after the mission, Hakon approach him and start teasing Aiden on how beautiful he was while he calls him "mon amour" (means my love) and give him a sweet kiss, and he lift him up in a bride style while lawan just chuckles

sorry for a lot words (• ▽ •;)

PS: keep up the good work my fellow Haiden/Aikon shipper, love all your one-shots! Wuv it!!

୧(＾〰＾)୨

I’ve never played Final Fantasy, but I did a bit of Googling, so I hope I met your hopes!

DRESS UP

This was stupid. Lawan could have done this, but she refused. Why was her complaining respected, but his was not? All because he was the best at making a feminine voice out of the remaining men.

Aiden grumbled to himself, looking in the mirror, placed in front of him.

He looked ridiculous, and yet he still tried smoothing out the material that wrapped tightly around his body.

He never thought he’d be caught dead wearing a dress, yet here he was, sporting one that he could best describe as victorian. The corset sat tightly around his chest, forcing him to stand straight.

The skirt was a deep purple, contrasting nicely with the blue corset and black frills. Even the bra was stuffed, making sure to make it as believable as possible.

The man held back the urge to rub his face, freeing it from the makeup. It wasn’t much, only some coverage, contouring and mascara, but it was enough to irritate his skin lightly.

A wavy wig had been secured on his head, beautiful blonde curls framing his face, making it look far more feminine along with the makeup.

He couldn’t help but wrap a lock around his fingers as he waited.

Checking himself out in the mirror one last time, he was surprised how different he looked.

The plan was simple. He just had to distract the Renegades long enough for Hakon and Lawan to cut the power. It wasn’t hard to get him in, apparently any pretty lady is welcome with them, as one of them had said.

“Very pretty.” A scratchy voice reached Aiden’s ear, almost causing him to flinch out of pure discomfort. This was terrible.

“Thank you.” The young man turned to the Renegade, batting his eyes as well as he could. He hated every second of it, but it was crucial to the plan.

He couldn’t help the yelp escaping his lips as a hand planted itself firmly on his ass. How the Renegade had managed to sneak a hand up his dress without him knowing was beyond him.

“Very pretty.” He whispered into Aiden’s ear, who wanted nothing more than to stab him in the face. Actually, he didn’t care who got stabbed. It might as well be him, as long as he doesn’t have to do this anymore.

It’d already been 40 minutes of pure agony, as they flirted with him on repeat. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before some god heard his wishes, as the power went out.

“What the hell?” A deep voice complained. Aiden could hear the Renegades getting up, trying to figure out what happened to the lights. That was his sign, so he lifted the dress up as well as he could before bolting out of there, as fast as he could without tripping in his heels.

“Hey! Over here!” Lawan whisper-shouted to him from his right. She didn’t have to tell him twice, he ran to her as fast as he could, grabbing onto the rope. It threw them on top of a building, safe from the fumbling Renegades, who were still trying to figure out what happened to the power.

“You run surprisingly well in heels, Aiden.” Lawan chuckled. “I know how hard that is.”

“I hope I never have to do this again.” The man grinned back, his feet hurting from the tight shoes.

“Aah, mon amour!” Hakon emerged from behind a vent, having apparently waited for him to arrive.

He was clearly amused by Aiden’s get up. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you’d look that great.” He smirked, enjoying teasing the younger man.

“I can still kick your ass in these heels, Hakon.” Aiden snarled, letting go of his dress, making it flow softly in the wind..

Hakon gave him the most obvious elevator look he’d ever seen in his life, clearly checking out every part of him before answering.

“I’d welcome that, mon trésor.”His smirk widened, enjoying it a bit too much for Aiden’s taste.

“You even grew tits, who would have thought?” The older man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut up, Hakon.” Aiden rolled his eyes at the grinning man.

“So hostile. And honestly, light makeup suits you. I like the blonde, but you should stay brunette.” He winked, as Aiden’s eyes rolled even further back into his head, he was sure he would see his own brain soon enough.

“Come ‘ere” Hakon gestured for Aiden to step closer. The younger man narrowed his eyes at him, not sure whether or not to trust him, but he reluctantly stepped closer, seeing as the other man’s smile softened. It was a special look, reserved just for Aiden, those soft eyes, conveying his love better than any of his words ever could.

“Mon chéri." The frenchman muttered before placing a sweet kiss on Aiden’s forehead. “You’re beautiful.” The younger man felt a blush creep up as he stared back into the brown eyes that had been watching him.

“I hope to see you wearing this more often.” Hakon chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’m still here, you know.” Lawan’s voice echoed being them, though it was no doubt playful.

“Ah, you’re just jealous, Lawan.” Hakon grinned back at her, before turning his attention back to the man in front of him.

Before Aiden had time to realize what happened and he was swooped up into the arms of his lover, holding him tightly. Hakon pressed another kiss to his lips, lingering just slightly longer than before.

“Let’s get home.” He whispered softly, the same soft look painted across his face.

#aiden x hakon #hakon x aiden #dl2 hakon #hakon #Dying light 2 #dying light 2 spoilers #dying light 2 hakon #dl2 #aikon #haiden #aiden caldwell

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kindofwriter · 3 years

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if you dont mind me asking, what did actual oscar wilde look like?

I will feel mildly like a stalker, despite that fact that he’s been dead over 100 years and I literally study his life for my degree, but yeah, I don’t mind at all!

This is sort of mid twenties to mid thirties, because that’s what I reckon Alex was going for in RQG, and also what I know about best:

The vague phrase ‘he was a big guy’ may as well have been invented for Wilde. He was just a Big Guy. 6’3” at a time when 5’10” was still considered quite tall, broad-shouldered, and chubby to the point where his friends, family, and the media thought it pertinent to comment on. He wasn’t particularly muscular or in good shape - he tried his hand at a lot of sports as a child, but rifle shooting and badminton are the only ones that really stuck - but he definitely had the build for it if he’d chosen to go down that route.

During this time he mostly wore his hair about his chin. People who didn’t like him said it looked greasy and lank, but others thought it quite dashing and found it well-maintained. The latter certainly aligns better with photographs, but Wilde was just a person - likelihood is it was sometimes greasy. He would, on occasion, curl it, and in the mid 1880s cut it short again. Short for Wilde, however, was still just above the ears.

He was very pale and had light freckles across his face (very likely across his shoulders and down his arms too, but this was the Victorian era; people who would have known that are few and far between!).

Wilde notably never smiled with his mouth open, which did lead to some quite awkward photographs. His teeth were large and slightly crooked, so whenever he laughed he would cover his mouth with his hand. This was probably far more noticeable than the fact that his teeth were a little crooked.

He had quite plump cheeks and a soft jaw line, though even his sister in law, who absolutely read him to filth in her descriptions of him, agreed it was in fact still a jaw line.

And finally, largely un-debated: light blue eyes.

The majority of women (and Americans!) thought him charming and handsome. A large percentage of men were jealous, but of the attention he received from women, rather than of the man himself. A small handful of men just wanted to snog his face off (though settled for less agressive, but not more consensual, kisses).

(Btw, I’m not in the slightest trying to say Alex and RQ artists are wrong. He’s basing historical figures on what they were remembered for, and Wilde - for some reason, lol - is remembered for being a twink. It’s fictional, he’s a different person! If you know me you’ll know I absolutely, 100% believe we need media where fat people are allowed to be, and are depicted as, hot. But I really wasn’t hanging all my hopes on fictional RPG Oscar Wilde. This is simply a post of historical intrigue!)

#rqg #Oscar Wilde #for once the real guy!#author's note

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alex-ruins-everything · 4 years

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Turning Pages - Chapter 1

Intrulogical bookshop au! Read whole thing on ao3 here

Logan Berry had a normal, content, average life. He was happy working at the bookshop that he simply loved, all until the brash and loud brother of one of his coworker's boyfriend's entered the picture. Then he found his quite perfect life interrupted by something he had never experienced before - fun. Remus Kingsley was getting him to branch out, and not looking too bad while doing it.

Logan Berry had a normal, content, average life. He had good grades, a solid sleep schedule, an average amount of social interaction, and a job that he adored. He worked at a bookshop, the same bookshop he had spent most of his childhood in since most preteens were not fans of their intellectually superior peers. Though at the bookshop he could put all of that aside and immerse himself in knowledge - and on the rare occasion, some fantasy. In all fairness it didn’t take long for the bookshop owner, Mr. Sanders, to start recognizing the young boy that was always sitting in the armchairs by the windows. It didn’t take much more time after that for him to start to take Logan under his wing, showing him how the bookshop runs and on Logan’s 16th birthday, offering him a job that was happily accepted. Logan had always been an enthusiastic learner and that directly translated into his work. When Mr. Sanders’ attention got pulled away from the shop, Logan happily picked up the slack.

He was not a fan of summer break, finding the halt in his education to be cumbersome, but he did enjoy having more time to spend at the shop. It was 7am sharp when he unlocked the door, the familiar bell tingling to indicate entry as he flipped on the light switches, immediately soaking in the smell of the books with a smile to himself. Now to begin on the opening checklist he knew so well. Step one, lock the door to avoid any early customers. Check. Step two, count the money and open the register up. Check. Step three, check displays and ensure that bookmarks are orderly and the magazines are sitting neat. Check. Step four, go through aisles and ensure that books are neatly lined up and in alphabetical order. This step takes a while so it is vital to keep an eye on the time so that at precisely 8am the door can be unlocked again. Logan does his job thoroughly until he checks this one off as well, standing behind the register to organize the pens and highlighters, ensuring there is receipt tape in the printer. At 7:58 he pulls his apron on over his head, unlocking the door with a soft click of the lock, straightening a display of books as he passed by.

It was not unusual for Logan’s coworker to be late to his morning shift. Patton Hart seemed to always arrive at 8am dull rather than sharp, but he always made up for it in some way so it was quite hard to get mad at him. Today, for example, he skipped in at nearly 8:15, but he was holding two cups of coffee and a pastry bag.

“Sorry I’m late!” Patton apologized, reading the side of one of the cups before handing it to Logan. “Remy was extra chatty at the coffee shop today...but here you go! Large black coffee and a blueberry muffin.”

Logan thanked the other, taking the coffee and sipping at it. He had already had a cup before leaving home but it wouldn’t hurt to have another. He had already eaten breakfast so he tucked the muffin under the counter for later. Patton went into a small room behind the counter to set his belongings down and clock in, returning in his apron and a smile.

“I need to know what book you plan on reading for the kids on Saturday so a display can be set up,” Logan stated, looking over the short list of events the shop had planned. Patton hosted book readings for young children every once in a while and it was always a hit, bringing in lots of revenue for the shop. Another reason he could get away with being late.

“Oh! I was thinking If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,” he replied. “We just got a shipment in of those, right? I thought it might work out nicely especially since I did the Pigeon books last time.”

“Excellent,” Logan nodded, approving the idea by penciling it onto the schedule next to the time slot for Patton’s Reading Circle.

It wasn’t a very busy day, but it went by seemingly quickly with lots to do. Logan sat in the office for a good two hours, filling out orders for the shipment they would receive on Wednesday, making sure to get any special requests customers had ordered. When that was done he went about reorganizing the science section, making room for a new book that would be gracing the shelves and placing a space-holder in the meantime. Patton had been fluffing up the pillows on the cushiony chairs set around the store and dusting off shelves and cleaning the windows down. When a customer came in one of them would help them find what they wanted then ring them up, that bell by the door always chiming to alert them. The peaceful and known routine was part of what made Logan happy. Around noon he excused himself to the back to eat the muffin Patton had brought this morning, letting the other know that his break was scheduled in about an hour when their third coworker arrived.

When it came to Virgil Storm it was always a toss up. He was either early or late, never on time. Today however he chose to be early, walking in fifteen minutes before one, nodding a hello to both Logan and Patton as he headed to the back, sipping on an iced coffee with a tired expression. He came back out with his apron on, the cord of his headphones hanging out of his pocket a little bit as he started his usual rounds around the store. Aside from Logan, Virgil was definitely the most detail oriented.

Logan excused Patton for his break, perching on a stool behind the register and pulling out a large binder to work on some scheduling for the next few weeks. Always better to get things done in advance, of course. The bell rang and Logan looked up to greet the customer but saw it was just Roman, Virgil’s boyfriend.

“Hello, Roman,” he nodded, getting a greeting back before Roman was off to find Virgil.

Logan had never seen Roman actually read a book, but he did buy them every so often, mostly ones about theater or anything that had a dragon on the cover. He was just charming enough to have won over Mr. Sanders on the few times they had crossed paths in the shop, but really he only served as a distraction. Today wasn’t busy so Logan let him stay for a little while before leaving his post at the register to check on how he was interfering with Virgil today.

“Roman, if you shadow Virgil any longer I’m going to hand you an apron and consider it your training,” he warned lightly.

“Okay, okay,” Roman started. “He’s just showing me some new fantasy stuff, I promise I’ll be a paying customer this time.”

Logan decided to believe him, returning to his post at the register and continuing to pencil names onto a schedule, trying to work around the names to fit something that was fair for everyone. Then of course he would send it to Mr. Sanders for approval before posting it on the bulletin board in the room behind the counter. The bell rang again and Logan looked up to greet a customer or say hello to Patton who surely was due back from his break soon but was instead met with the most interesting person he had ever laid eyes on.

This man was all broad shoulders and wild hair, a streak of white gracing the front of his curls and a mustache that was twirled at the ends in ways Logan thought only the men in Victorian romance novels sported. He was somewhat dressed for the warm weather outside in a mossy green tank top that hung obscenely off his body, showing off an octopus tattoo on his left shoulder with the tentacles creeping down his upper arm, and black jeans that were more rips than pants. His eyes scanned around the bookshop, landing on Logan for a second too long to be played of as a passing glance.

“Roman! If you don’t quit making out with Virgil against a bookshelf I’m gonna leave your ass here,” the man said just a little too loudly for proper bookshop etiquette.

“Hey, shuddup,” Roman said, emerging from the shelves with a book in his hand. “Remus, I thought you were shopping down the street.”

“I was, then I got bored. Hey, this place is weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been in here,” the man - Remus - said, picking up one of the display books and flipping it open, only to put it back down in a way that wasn’t remotely how he had found it. “C’mon, I wanna swing by the park and chase the geese before we head home. Hurry up.”

Logan found that he had been watching the interaction, his scheduling forgotten as Roman came and set his selection on the counter, Remus following behind him and messing up the neat displays of knick-knacks on the counter.

“Told you I’d buy a book,” Roman said with a grin. “Oh, this is my brother by the way. Sorry he’s loud.”

Remus flicked Roman on the back of the head. “Am not. This place is just super quiet,” his eyes trailed over Logan in a way that was enough to make him feel like he was being dissected. “Nice to meet you, Specs.”

“And you as well,” Logan said, ringing up Roman’s book and sliding it into a paper bag, cuing him up to pay. Though with how brash this man was he wasn’t sure if that was an entirely true statement. “Roman, you’re good to go. Have a nice day.”

Logan watched the two brother’s leave, sighing lightly as he closed the scheduling binder and sticking it back under the counter. Patton came back with a happy wave and a box of donuts that he set in the back for them all to pick at when they wished. He let Patton watch the register, moving to clean up the damage that Remus had left behind to his strictly ordered displays. Well, hopefully that wouldn’t be a continuous issue. Remus seemed like he read books even less than Roman, though Logan couldn’t deny there was something illogically intriguing about how unrestrained Remus had been.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #prinxiety #moceit #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid

Pairing: Klance: Keith Kogane/Lance Mcclain

Summary: Lance has lived a pretty simple life since being turned into a vampire. He’s got his house, his cat, and his two besties that have no idea he’s a vampire thanks to his awesome acting skills... He thought he was happy, that things were fine, that he wasn’t drawing too much attention to himself... and then he met Keith.Big, dumb, hot, emo, stupid Keith. Keith that went and flipped his life upside down, because, seriously, Keith really was a special kind of stupid.Vampire Lance x Vampire Hunter Keith

READ ON AO3

People sucked. People truly, madly, unequivocally, completely and totally sucked. That’s why Lance had brought his farmhouse outside a the tiny speck of a town barely found on most maps. He hadn’t lead a particularly long life, at least not when compared to others suffering from the same condition as he had, yet in his short time, he’d come to hate people. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t hate everyone. He had two best friends that meant the world to him, Pidge and Hunk. Both paranormal investigators, and both blind to his unusualness. No. What Lance held issue with was the continued hunting of his kind by the Vatican. His “ancestors” may have bathed in blood, and sacrificed virgins, all that kind of hooky-huha that one reads in scary stories, but before he’d been made a vampire, he liked to think he’d been a happy enough well liked kid, and he liked to think that even these days he still carried an air of that charm whenever he was forced from his home.

Garrison was a tiny town 50kms away from Platt City, founded during the Third World War, the city held plenty of ghostly secrets which had drawn both Hunk and Pidge to the area. Boasting a single Main Street, the highlights of the town were limited to tourist traps and three pubs on the Main Street. It was while studying at Platt University that he’d met both his best friends, twenty years his juniors, yet thanks to his unwanted immortality his body had stopped maturing roughly around the age of 18, making it easy to join the crowded university with a few falsified papers. His intention was to refresh his legal skills in order to keep up with the time’s. With the help of his Mami, he’d moved somewhere small and private, to a dead beat town that accepted weirdness as an everyday occurrence thanks to the tourists that came to see the ghosts of soldiers passed. When he’d been a kid, he’d always dreamed of being an astronaut, yet had chosen law to help those less fortunate in some kind of redemption for his condition. Being immortal meant keeping up with the times, though his house retained much of its old “Victorian” charm. Plus, with Platt being so close, it made for an easy drive up there every three weeks to pick up new blood bags. He was in no way a stereotypical vampire other than his need for blood. He wore glasses, because his eyesight was so good his mind couldn’t process everything he was seeing. This came with the unfortunate side effect of being clumsy as hell. He’d come from a Catholic family, meaning he believed in the presence of God. He’d also never drunk from a human, and never taken a human as pet or a lover like some did. When he wasn’t tagging along with Pidge and Hunk to ensure they didn’t accidentally summon something nasty, most of his time was devoted to providing low cost family legal advise.

Perhaps because he hadn’t been born a vampire, he’d retained many of his human ways. Sunlight didn’t turn him to ashes. Garlic gave him pretty bad stomach cramps and indigestion, which could be fobbed off with the excuse of an allergy. Silver gave him hives, again, something that could be passed off as an allergic reaction. He refused to harm animals for blood. He refused to bite another human, despite the fact a bite wouldn’t turn one anyway. They needed to be drinking his blood for that to happen, and after how he’d been turned, there was no way he’d ever do that to a mortal. He showed up in photographs, though his eyes always came out red instead of their usual bright blue. Mirrors weren’t exactly his friend, but not because he couldn’t see himself, instead because he hated seeing himself. They didn’t magically show his “vampire face”, instead they reminded him he’d never grow old. At the ripe age of 44 he looked 18. Even when he turned 100, he’d still look 18. It was thoroughly depressing. Unlike some vampires he didn’t have a coven, or a pack. His house only held him and his cat Blue, who he’d found as a tiny kitten under the steps leading up to the porch. She’s was black, fluffy, and an absolute princess in his eyes. Other than the general upkeep of his house, blood costs and the very occasional splurge on new clothes, most of the money he made went to spoiling his little princess. He wasn’t sure if Blue was part vampire, her teeth had always been sharp, as kitten he’d dug her out by the scruff of the neck, her tiny little teeth were far too cute as they buried themselves into his hand. She’d never acted like she was, but she also preferred to stay inside and had a personality that rivalled some of the most twisted “Queen” vamps he’d met. Then again, everyone knew cats were temperamental arseholes, so maybe Blue was simply being the snobby cow she was born to be.

All in all, Lance had nothing to complain about in his life. He was happy, content, safe in the knowledge no one about to ruin that anytime soon.

Pulling into the parking lot of their usual dive, Sal’s burgers wasn’t the most popular place in town, making it the perfect place to hang out. Located 10kms out of town on the road to Platt City, seemingly an inconvenience the locals, most of Sal’s customers came from tourists needing to stop because their kids needed the toilet. A few of the older locals had dedicated seats at the service bar, and maybe one or twice a week people spiced it up from their usual coffee shops on Main Street, but all in all, the lack of customers is what Lance loved about it. The whole place looked as if the 50’s had left it behind, from its pastel pink exterior to the cheesy green and silver breakfast stools at the c go heck board service bar. From his parking space he could already see Pidge and Hunk waiting for him in their usual booth. Hunk’s head thrown back as he laughed at something, probably at Pidge’s expense.

Cutting the engine, Lance grabbed up his wallet, phone, and gloves. He wasn’t exactly the warmest of people to begin with, but this freezing weather was likely to turn him into an undead popsicle. Already dressed in his favourite khaki jacket, Lance did a quick double check pat down before climbing out his battered blue four wheel drive. She was old, had one too many rust spots and didn’t like starting on days like today, but he’d had her since he’d graduated college the first time around. His Mami was always nagging at him to get rid of her, to use some of his money to buy something better, something that didn’t have roll down windows and a dodgy CD player. His first car was his first real taste of freedom after being turned. They’d been through a lot together, leaving him unable to say goodbye to her. That’d be like cutting him own arm off.

Sal gave him a wave as Lance walked in, the man was a teddy bear under his perpetual 5 o’clock shadow and greasy apron. His policy seemed to be that if someone couldn’t respect him like this, they weren’t worth his respect in return

“Hey’a there, Lance. Pull up a seat and I’ll bring your usual over”

“Thanks, Sal. You’re the best!”

Sal grumbled, Lance pretending he didn’t hear every low word about him. Bringing up that Sal secretly liked him well enough would only leave the old man flustered. For the sake of their “friendship”, he played along with Sal’s mumbling translating into how much of a pain he was. With a bounce in his step, Lance headed over to Pidge and Hunk, throwing himself into the booth as he wrapped his arms around Hunk

“Lance!”

“It’s soooo cold! Warm me up!”

Hunk hugged him back

“I’ve got you, bro! You’re freezing...”

“And you’re late. You were supposed to be here half an hour ago”

Lance sighed dramatically as he rolled his eyes at his favourite tech gremlin

“You know how she gets in cold weather”

“Who? There better not be anything and wrong with my Princess”

“Pidge, you should know by now that when Lance talks like that, he’s talking about his car... right?”

Lance grinned

“Of course I’m talking about my girl. And my Princess is perfectly happy. Blue was curled up under my blankets when I left”

Pidge pouted at him

“You could have brought her with you. I miss my Blue cuddles”

“You could try coming by the house. She was in a mood when I left”

Lance had a backpack carrier for her, but Blue would have frozen her perfect little toe beans out in the weather today. He’d left the heated blanket on a timer for her, unable to keep from spoiling his princess. Pidge’s hand left her laptop keyboard to grab her mug of coffee

“But your house is soooo far away. Anyway, we’re here to talk about work. I was on this forum last night, and someone swore they met a werewolf. Can you imagine? Hunk told me to stop scaring him”

Hunk... Hunk was the biggest ray of sunshine Lance had ever met. The poor man got every single form of motion sickness know, but that never once stopped him. He was terrified of ghost stories, not the best constitution to have when one is a ghost hunter... No, paranormal investigator. He’d been told there was a difference, but honestly it all sounded the same. People loved to think of the unknown, that world existing just out of their everyday mundane lives. Having been in that world for as long as he had been, Lance would happily pay for a boring mundane life

“I wasn’t scared... I’m... cautious”

Pidge clucked at Hunk, Hunk flipping her off. Laughing at him, Pidge wasn’t easily swayed

“You’re a chicken. What about you, Lance? Do you believe in werewolves?”

Werewolves were dicks. He’d bumped into a few over the years, and they’d done nothing to persuade him that they weren’t. The only thing they had going for them was their commitment to their mates and family, other than that, they were testosterone filled morons with claws.

“I don’t know... I feel like they’d all be too stupid to hide their existence”

“Wolves are incredibly smart... Fine, let’s put that one the back burner. Now, about work, there’s a group of tourists that want to come through the old hospital. The visitors centre in town gave me a call about it. Apparently they pay reeeeeeally well”

They’d have to. The old hospital was “cursed”. It’d been converted into a professional centre, but three years after the renovations they closed the building down thanks to the high number of injuries. If there were ghosts there, it was doubtful they’d care to bother with the employees. They all had their own issues. Lance held the opinion it was more a spate of psychosomatic symptoms resulting from the first accident. The building had been handed back over to the town, where it’d sat empty until it reopened as a military museum. With a bored sigh, Lance resigned himself to the fact that Pidge had already gone ahead and decided this was happening. Patting Hunk on the arm, the big man let him go

“When is this all supposed to be happening?”

Pidge’s eyes twinkled with mischief. Lance loved that about her. The top of her head barely came to his chin, but her pint sized stature didn’t stop her. She was always up for a laugh, and frightfully adapt with all things technology based. One of their first conversations came about because Lance had dropped his phone down the stairwell, smashing the screen as it bounced. Seeing her notice pinned up at the campuses cafe, he’d reached out to her with no idea they’d still be besties so many years later. From memory she had an older brother who was as much of a nerd as she was, while her mother and her father both worked in some private sector. He’d met them once over a family dinner Pidge dragged him to, seen them half a dozen times on their front steps as Pidge fled from their parental yelling, and finally been stuck in a very awkward conversation with Pidge’s father, Sam, when he’d found Bae-Bae, the missing family dog who Pidge had brought along on one of their ghost hunts

“Tonight. We’ve got permission to start once the museum shuts for the day. The tour starts at 8, so we’ll go in, set up, have something to eat, then scare the shit out of them at 8”

“You didn’t tell me it’s tonight!”

Poor Hunk. His poor heart had no time to come to terms with this. His worrying only made Pidge smile wider

“Relax, it’ll be fiiiine. Lance is coming with us. He’ll protect you from anything spooky”

“Why do I have to protect you? What are you going to do? Sue the ghosts for giving you the heebie-jeebies? Sorry, that’s not my specialty”

Pidge slid her glasses down to the tip of her nose as she puffed her chest out

“Ha, he, ho, I’m Lance and I have a fancy law degree! Those ghosts better think twice before looking at me”

Lance laughed way too hard, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, his black frame glasses nearly falling off. Pidge pushing her glasses back into place as Sal brought over Lance’s pancakes and coffee. The man simply placing them down before backing away without a word

“Oh my god, Pidge. That was awful”

“It wasn’t that awful. So, Hunk, you’re in snacks for the night. Lance is in charge of driving, and I’m in charge of the tech. What are we forgetting?”

“That we value our lives and don’t really want to do this?”

Pidge sank lower in her seat, a soft thud coming as Hunk gasped in pain

“What was that for?!”

“Being a chicken”

“I’m not a chicken”

“Are too...”

Picking up his fork, Lance calmly cut in on their fight

“Children, don’t make me seperate the pair of you. Hunk, you’re big, brave, and very manly. Pidge, you’re so fucking short you couldn’t even covertly kick him under the table. If we’re going out, I need to stop by home on the way. Blue needs her wet food for the night, and no, she’s not coming tonight. It’s going to storm as it is”

Crossing her arms, Pidge slumped back in her seat

“You just want to keep my Princess all to yourself. Hunk can leave his car here and we’ll take yours”

“I thought my house was too far away to visit?”

“It’s not when you’re the one driving. Hurry up and finish your pancakes, I wanna go already”

Lance looked down at the forkful he’d been about to load in his mouth, purposely cutting the stack in half to annoy Pidge. Scoffing down Sal’s pancakes was an insult to the man who’d made cigarette ash in pancakes edible. The lack of hygiene may have been another reason why the locals stayed away, but when you’re immortal, standards kind of went out the window

“Laaaaance. Nooo. What are you doing?”

“Enjoying my breakfast. Order another coffee... actually, order some warm milk, I can see you practically vibrating from the amount of caffeine in our bloodstream”

“I’ll have you know that the level of blood in my caffeine stream is just fine. Plus, you’re like the only person in the world who enjoys Sal’s pancakes!”

“Oi! I heard that, Katie Holt!”

Pidge ducked down further in her seat at Sal’s voice. A couple of regulars laughing at her embarrassment, as Pidge blushed

“Now look what you’ve done”

“Not my problem, Pidgeroonie”

“Watch your back, I’m going to get you tonight, then steal away Blue”

Lance shrugged, unfazed by her threat. Tonight would be another lame arse tour under the belt, the most exciting thing they could expect was some jump scare.

#accidentally started a new fic #klance #bottom Lance #mpreg #voltron

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trashboatprince · 5 years

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I just can’t stop with the Ashtoreth stories, I love her so much.

And this is an excuse to dress her up in something pretty and to have her be a bit more open with Francis.

On with the fic!

The Dowlings were hosting a party, a huge event for different people they knew from both the United States and the UK that they were friends with and/or worked with.

And Nanny Ashtoreth was invited, as a way of saying ‘hey, thanks for watching our kid for the past four years, here’s something instead of a bit of extra pay.’ Not that she didn’t need it, money was no issue for a demon, but still. At least she had the night off, Warlock was going to be watched over by Harriet’s mother who was invited, arrived, but decided to spend time with her grandchild.

Nice lady, even told Ashtoreth that her style of dress was rather beautiful, much more appropriate for ladies.

Ashtoreth found herself in the large hall where events too place in the house, dressed to the nines in an outfit that Crowley may or may not have spent too much time planning on a day off a few weeks back in his flat.

The dress was a deep black, the back opened, trailing down just above her lower back in an almost-teasing way. The front complimented her small chest, nice collarbone, and shoulders, held up by the thinnest of spaghetti straps.

The dress went down to the floor, but there was a slit in the side that went up her leg in a way that many a man had noticed this evening. The heels helped a lot with that.

Ashtoreth, Crowley, were a demon of fine tastes and rather liked being the center of attention in a room full of eyes when it suited them best.

And she was so thrilled to find that this was a formal affair, everyone was dressed in their best clothes, so her going nuts with the dress was totally worth it to stand out more. She even included onyx and silver jewelry to complete the look, with a red gemstone broach around her neck, held with delicate lace.

She was living it up, taking the attention off of women who had spent money to look so good when all she had to do was snap her fingers. Ashtoreth loved when she riled people up and caused trouble without having to lift a finger, and this was just the sweetest plum.

Demonic work could happen in all the best ways, especially when you got to look amazing while doing it.

Several men, including her employer had asked for her hand to dance, but she declined. “I’m waiting for someone.” She’d tell them, and it wasn’t a lie.

Her eyes, still hidden behind her shades, kept looking towards the door. Was he not coming? Even the staff had been invited, again, to prevent them from getting a raise, so that meant Francis was supposed to be involved. Did that angel not get the invite? His stupid costume must has scarred off the Dowlings from inviting the gardener.

She sighed, sipping at her wine until she heard a bit of chatter from some of her fellow staff members. Two of the maids were close to her, whispering between the two of them, and Ashtoreth listened in.

“Did you see him? That weird gardener?! I almost didn’t recognize him!”

“I didn’t know he wore anything other than the smock! And did he style his hair?”

“And... do something with his teeth?”

Ashtoreth looked around and her eyes widened behind her shades as she spotted the gardener across the room. He was dressed in a white suit, classically Victorian, with a faint blue button up. He accessorized his suit with his golden rings and his pocket watch from his normal attire when he presented himself as Aziraphale.

He looked so clean in his white suit, even his shoes were polished up! His hair was combed and tamed, rather than the mess of curls he always sported. Heck, as Francis, his hair had grown out a bit in the back and the man had bothered putting it back in a bit of a ponytail.

His teeth were indeed missing, just the front poking out a little bit over his bottom lip, nothing like the buck teeth the fool had decided on when figuring out his look for Brother Francis.

He looked positively handsome this evening, it’s been so long since they’ve attended a fancy part that Ashtoreth forgot that Francis had a magic touch when it came to style for the lavish.

He glanced over at her and smiled, walking across the room to approach her. “M’ dear,” the accent was still there, “you look as radiant as them beautiful black roses ya had me plant in the garden fer ya.” He took her gloved hand and gently placed a tender kiss to the back of it.

“Well, Francis,” She smirked, “I didn’t think you could actually appear human, but here you are.”

“Ay, I know when to look me best.” He chuckled, standing up straight as he looked at her. “Sorry I’m late,” the accent was dropped as he whispered gently, “took me a bit to figure out how to look perfect for you.”

“Angel, you always look perfect to me. Even with that stupid get up.” She whispered back. The music in the room shifted, people moved towards the dance floor.

“Care to dance?” The demon asked, and Francis looked a bit startled.

“My dear, you know quite well that angels cannot dance. Well, I mean, I know one dance, but it’s not appropriate for this sort of event.”

“Who the hell cares, I wanna dance. I’ve been waiting an hour for you to show up and I gotta break in these heels.” She grabbed his hand, leading him out to the dance floor as the music began to play a familiar classical piece. Ashtoreth couldn’t quite place it at the moment, but she was sure Aziraphale had a record of it in his shop, or at least original sheet music for it.

Sounded like Chopin, but that’s besides the point.

Francis looked rather nervous as they stood together, so Ashtoreth took the lead. She place his hand on her shoulder, her own going to his waist, and their free hands clasped together. “It’s simple, just follow my movements, no one else here is dancing correctly either.”

“I-If you say so, my dearest.” He swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked up at her, she was so much taller in these heels, it was rather exciting.

They moved slow to the music, moving about the floor around other couples and dance partners as the music continued on. Francis took the chance, resting his head against her chest, breathing in her scent of perfume and bath oils, along with her natural demonic scent that he was so use to it never bothered him.

Just part of his dear friend’s charms, really. He smiled as he closed his eyes, the music changed, people kept dancing, he didn’t bother trying to notice that some people were looking at the two of them as they danced.

Ashtoreth heard some whispers, that the gardener was dancing with the nanny! That he was feeling her up with his face there, the lucky bastard! Why would she dance with a man that looked like a human toadstool. Okay, that last comment got a nasty glare from Ashtoreth, causing the comment maker to spill her drink on herself.

She smirked and continued to lead the dance as Francis kept himself pressed against her. “You’re a wonderful dancer, Crowley.” He whispered at her, his eyes still closed.

She wanted to tell him that he’s stepped on her toes three times and nearly knocked them both down when he stepped on her gown, but she didn’t have the heart to ruin the moment. “And you’ve improved since the last time we’ve done this.”

The last time was when Aziraphale dragged him to a party during the 20′s and they both fell into a pool when they tried to dance together. It’s funny now, but at the time both were a bit upset cause a lot of people saw that.

She kissed the top of his head as she continued on, ignoring the stares and comments now. It was just them, no angels, demons, or humans could ruin this rare moment of public tenderness between them. They didn’t get to be open like this much, so Ashtoreth and Francis were going to take advantage of it the whole night.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #nanny ashtoreth #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #brother francis #john's drabbles

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nntheblog · 3 years

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Blonde Hair Anime girl : Our Top 45

Golden lock, what else can we hope for? Blonde hair anime girl are important to anime and have a particular quality to them we love. They have a wide range of different styles of characters, from beauty to tsundere, to complete and completely intoxicated but we love each single one! They appear to be very well-endowed, with a reason, too ... however, not that we're aware of that's for sure! It's common to encounter cute, sweet Kawaii female in Anime TV shows, and at times, it's the reason why you're viewing the program. However, I love doing these, but I'm not certain why. In regards about hair I see many colors and hues of the skin. And one can discover all sorts of shades in anime. However, I'd probably fail if you asked me to name a haired anime girl from memory. There are many new anime girls , and I have been watching anime. These lists are extremely interesting for me.

45. Ravel Phenex from High School DXD

Ravel Phenex is an evil demon who has an enormous crush on the main character Issei Hyoudo. Even though she is only a teenager, Ravel is far more knowledgeable than the other demons, and is able to outwit her adversaries. As the principal strategy for Issei's peerage Ravel manages his army of monsters to victory. She's just not the tougher battle-type. In addition, Ravel is the eldest of four Phenex siblings, and that shows. She's stubborn, yells at her parents and always gets what she wants and is lucky that she gets what hero desires!

44. Biscuit Kreuger from Hunter X Hunter - The best teacher among blonde hair anime girl

Biscuit is a girl who prefers to be known as Bisky is a small tiny, adorable girl with curly pigtails that are long and long. But she's not. She's actually a 57-year large bodybuilder of a woman who is several times her normal size. She has pecs as big as her entire body. She's also keen to remain young. And who would not? A sly trickster and a highly experienced hunter (she even conducted the exams) She uses her diminutive form to trick opponents into thinking that they underestimate her. But then she'll revert to her true appearance and slay them all.

43. Suzuka Darienji from Tokyo Ravens

Suzuka Darienji , aka 'The Prodigy' is among the "Twelve Divine Generals". In the anime , it is the best of Japan's Onmyouji - magicians. The prodigy was dubbed the name because of her intelligence, despite being only a teenager, her talent were not without cost. The Brutally Experiment was encouraged from an early age by her father's sadistic son to develop magical geniuses she was successful... However, her brother was not so lucky and passed away young. Perhaps that's the reason the two of them are both sporting curls of blonde curly... Suzuka attempts in the hope of reviving her father however, she fails to summon the ghost of his body. Death is death even for magicians.

42. Elizabeth Midford from Black Butler

Elizabeth Midford is cousin to Ciel Phantomhive Black Butler's favorite and real master of the "black butler," Sebastian Michaelis, the monster Sebastian Michaelis. The experience of growing up in Victorian London isn't easy for girls. It's a common practice to be feminine and weak so that men will love them. It's not a lot of influence given to you because you're expected to be a listener to men around you. Elizbeth however, is able to play the game inside. She is a girl who loves femininity. She is a lover of cute things. even decorated her room with ribbons to his dismay. But she keeps her intelligence hidden. She's extremely clever with a shrewd, savvy, loyal character and can easily defeat any foe with her dual-wield twin swords.

41. Harime Nui from Kill la Kill - The craziest blonde hair anime girl

Harime Nui is a major character in the film Kill La Kill. Her adorableness is disguised by an unhinged, dark manner of speaking. Created completely synthetically from life-fibres that come from other species, Harime is one of the show's strongest characters as well beating virtually every character one-on-1 fight. Not just that, she frequently break the fourth wall - the only person to do this. She relies on subtitles and interrupts credits at the end and causes chaos for the remaining cast members as well as the audience. Only Ryuko's scissor knives are able to scratch in her. This is assuming she can even get to Harime.

40. Milly Ashford (Code Geass)

Milly Ashford is another support character from this list. in Code Geass - she's one of the "school" mates of Lelouch Lamperouge who likes to play around and is sometimes humorous. In addition, she's the president of the student council. If you take away all the humor that came with her character as a character in Code Geass, especially early on, she's got strong head on her shoulders and is more intelligentthan she appears.

39. Irina Jelavic (Assassination Classroom) - The most seductive blonde hair anime girl

Irina Jelavic plays The "teacher" in Assassination Classroom and she appears occasionally with Koro Sensei. The main character. If you're notbeing being snubbed by students due to her name and is in no waypissed of her appearance, she's a woman who has enough experience to draw anyone's at. Her field of work is linked to murders and assassinations (hit-woman) So it's a given. Despite her gorgeous, modest appearance.

38. Mitsuba Sangu (Owari No Seraph)

Mitsuba Sangu, one of "Tsundere" types as an anime character who is blonde. Like Kirisaki Chitoge. However, unlike it being a "rom com " series, it is not like Nisekoi. Owari No Seraph is an anime based on violence and trauma. Mitsuba's personality is shaped by her personality. If she's angry it's because she takes careabout someone else more than they think. She would like others to feel secure and safe And her anger, however subtle, is a reflection of her loyalty to friends and colleagues.

37. Beatrice (Re:Zero Starts Life In A Different World)

Beatrice is a nickname for betty. is a bizarre Loli character that's in factolder than she appears. In actual fact, she has an unsettling amount in power, for someone that is tiny and fragile on the outside. But , you don't witness much of it until in the later episodes as she's a supporting character. A memorable aspects concerning Beatrice is her expression: "I suppose". It is a staple of nearly every wordshe speaks during the course of a conversation. It's the only factor that has made Beatrice so beloved, famous and well-liked in the world of anime, blonde characters and Mages.

36. Ikumi Mito (Food Wars) - The most gourmet blonde hair anime girl

Ikumi Mito is the renowned chef who has a specialization on "meat" and carvery in Food Wars. There's no doubt about it in this particular area of knowledge. She's tanned and wears the same style of dress as Yoko Littner, who is from Gurren Lagann. I'm assuming that I suspect that the "Mito" part of her name may be a play on"meat" or "meat", and is intended to be a reference to her cooking style on the show.

35. Maria Oosawa (Canaan)

Maria Oosawa is an optimistic kind of person who feels a sense of HYPE over the small aspects of life. For instance, taking pictures of the scenery or snapping a photograph of her or someone else. Or even meeting her friend: Canaan. Whatever the occasion, Maria is happy, caring and has a positive attitude sopositive that it's infectious. Because of that, she's different all together, compared to the typical black hair anime girl.

34. Rio Nakamura (Assassination Classroom)

Rio Nakamura's optimism shines. She'll never neverlet you feel down and down. She's just too positive and cheerful to let this occur. This is what you will appreciate the most about Nakamura In Assassination Classroom. This level of confidence is hard to resist because it's so inspiring.

33. Jeanne D'Arc (Fate Apocrypha)

Jeanne D'arc similar to Saber is based on mythology and the past. Similar to Saber and Saber, she's done things which her "somewhat" regrets in the beginning, yet she is able to endure and eventually over comewith her determination and determination. determination. She doesn't boast about her strength, or boast about how strong she is, however she's able to back it up in the event of needing it.

32. Violet Evergarden - The most unforgettable blonde hair anime girl

The most mysterious black hair anime girl Even before Kyoto Animation released a teaser trailer, I knew I was in for a thrilling ride. Violet's character idea is flawless and KyoAni's stunning animation in that show puts the best part. Violet is an incoming member of the CH postal service, Auto Memory Doll. She was looking to learn the meaning behind "any words" she had received from Gilbert when she was serving as a soldier. Violet has the characteristics that I have admired from other choices. Violet has gorgeous hair, beautiful blue eyes as well as her expressions on the face can be worthy of a million words. Her story has brought me to tears, anger, sadness, joy and all the other emotions that define us as human. Violet Evergarden is a rare gem in anime -- and the same is true for the protagonist.

31. Sana Kashimura (Alice & Zouroku)

Sana Kashimura has the power to explode the entire planet into thousands of pieces if she wants to. Because she has the ability to make anything with her imagination. In the anime, it's known as "dreams of Alice". Sana is a slave who has run away who escapes from the lab that's experimented on her to serve their own purposes. She is later adopted by an affectionate family, where she is taught to feel joy, happiness and happinessfor for the very first time during her life.

30. Anzu (Hinamatsuri)

Anzu of Hinamatsuri is so innocent it makes you want to kick yourself. Yet, at the same time Anzu is extremely confidentand filled with energy that you are intrigued and enthralled by her character. In the beginning, you may feel frustratedby her manner of being. Then she will warm up to you in the later stages, when things become more emotional, and the feelingsstart to take hold of you. Anzu is thetype of person. The type of character whose heart is so large and unprejudiced that there's no room to accommodate it. It's a plus that she's well-written and well-written.

29. Sachiko Tanaka (Denpa Kyoushi)

Sachiko Tanaka is a reminiscence of me. She's an artist and doesn't have a problem with selling her work or being paid for it. She is adamant about her work often and the majority of her energy and time is spent becoming betterand doing what she enjoys more than any other thing. It's the reason she skipped school often in the show: Denpa Kyoushi, and I'd probably do the same in her place.

28. Alicia Florence (Aria The Animation)

Alicia Florence is the one you'd like to have that is always available to listen when you're having concerns you'd like to talk about. Also, that "mother" like-figure who will take good care of you and will give everything she has to ensure that you're satisfied all the way around. She's the main character in Aria The Animation nearly everyonelooks at with admiration. Due to her charming persona, and her kind, humble manner of being. Like the majority ofcharacters in this genre there's much for you to take away from her wisdom.

27. Shiemi Moriyama (Blue Exorcist)

Shiemi Moriyama appears the younger and slightly vulnerableversion of Alicia Florence. She's kind and thoughtful of other people always smiling and kind. Even if you happen to be her foe. This is the pure heart of Shiemi's a character.And she's had the occasional moments of Blue Exorcist where she "shines". Blue Exorcist wouldn't be the the samewithout Shiemi's presence.

26. Hikari Takanashi (Demi Chan)

Imagine that you're feeling bored and you're sure there's oneperson who you can depend on to keep you laughing or cheer you up or make your life more cheerful. That's right, that describes Hikari Takanashi in the simplest terms. She's thekind of person, and she's full of sarcasm and occasionally somewhat of an antagonist (antagonizes the people). When she's not fumbling around or bouncing off walls due to her being so lively, Hikari is always there to help you have an enjoyable time.

25. Misa Amane from Death Note - The most engaged blonde hair anime girl

Misa is a well-known model actor, singer, and actress. She is a massive fan of Light Yagami. In third personperspective, she typically prefers calling her "Misa-Misa" and appears to be extremely active. She's acting as a second Kira to draw the attention in the initial Kira. Since the beginning, she was shockingly determined to Light when she realized that she was indeed the real Kira. Misa is willing to perform the dirty job of Light in order to be with him, even if it involves killing people. Misa displays a distinctive kind of yonder bipolarity. She is very affectionate and compassionate toward Light however, she is very unfriendly when she writes name names in the Death Note. Finally, Misa is unnecessarily enamored of her boyfriend and wildly jealous. And she ends up leading to Light an unstoppable snowball. If she wasn't an obstacle to Light's hopes, she could be much easier to accept.

24. Shinobu Oshino from Bakemonogatari

Shinobu is a mysterious vampire girl, as well as cute anime girl with blond hair . She acts as Meme Oshino's mate in the ruin of Eikou Cram School. In the next episode She is within Koyomi Araragi's shadow all daytime.

23. Mashiro Shiina of Sakurasou no Pet na Kanojo (The Pet Girl from Sakurasou)

Mashiro Shiina plays the principal female protagonist of the story . She is located in Room 202 of The Sakura Dormitory. Mashiro is a renowned artist who moved to Suiko as a second-year student to master drawing. She hopes to draw manga.

22. Tsunade from Naruto - The oldest blonde hair anime girl

Naruto isn't devoid of beautiful blonde women. That's a sign of something. My top choice in this particular series is the spirit-loving Tsunade who was Konohas' Hokage as well. I'm sure many of you will remember her for her amazing physical abilities. However, she still makes plenty of laughter even when she's not submerged in alcohol. Tsunade is everything a leader is supposed to be -- friendly and patient, but in a position to take on enemies with his own hands. Read the full article

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myrskytuuli · 7 years

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Hold your violet tiara high 1/5

Or, there is a time-honored tradition were people firmly believe that their generation was the first one to invent sex, and nobody wants to be the person to explain to Scrooge McDuck what gay people are.

Or, the one where Webby gets a girlfriend and makes life much more difficult for herself than it needs to be.

Look, look! I have actually salvaged from my documents something that might even resemble an actual fic.

For the purposes of this fic, we will assume that Scrooge really is all 150 years old, and that he has a fountain of youth tucked in there somewhere in the manor. The fic will switch between modern day, and flashbacks to Scrooge’s youth.

It could be said that it all starts when Webby and the triplets manage to convince Uncle Donald to take them with him to a Ducks N´ Roses concert, and where Webby manages to bumb into a girl of her age, with hair as red as fire, and who instantly grabs Webby’s hands, and pulls her into the crowd. “Dance with me!�� She yells, and Webby complies, and then they are friends.

It could also start when They all find out that Gosalyn is actually a daughter of a friend of Launchpad, and that practically makes them all friends already, right? So, they end up keeping in touch quite a lot.

Or maybe, it starts in Gosalyn’s comfy living room, on a weekend that the children have all for themselves, Gosalyn’s father being both very progressive and more importantly absent. His progressiveness has allowed the children to spend the Saturday in the house all by themselves, Webby, Gosalyn’s friend Honker, and the triplets, without anyone exchanging knowing glances, and murmurs of “I didn’t think that boys and girls had slumber parties together at your age.” The absence of adults is still the more crucial part that allows the five thirteen-year-olds to kick back and enjoy the house.

It happens when they are singing karaoke, all stuffed with candy and lemonade (They are good kids, and more importantly they don’t need to thrill-seek on weekends. They get plenty of excitement just living with their uncle.) Gosalyn is working on a truly unique interpretation of Madonna’s Vogue, and Webby realises that she is the most radiant and beautiful being in the entire world, and that all she wants to do is let her small and insecure hands settle on Gosalyn’s swaying hips and slowly sway with her.

Oh no. Webby thinks, and takes another sip from her green and sizzling soda. How did I let this thing sneak up on me? She also thinks. She probably doesn’t even think of me as anything more than a friend.

Then Gosalyn turns around, gives Webby a smile, and all thoughts flee from Webby’s head.

That’s where it starts, but for Webby’s eternal surprise, that is not where it all ends. Gosalyn is a social, confident, popular and smart. She is involved in things like after-school programs, is a fledgling political activist, (Saint. Canard is a crappy city, and maybe we would have less crime if someone did something to make it less crappy!) and has had no problems accepting her queer identity. (Webby on the other hand finds the word queer identity intimidating, like it is too official, like after all her hard work she is still cut away from the normal teenagers, still doesn’t fit in.)

Gosalyn has not been raised in isolation for her formative years, and is good with people. She kicks ass at sports, and is in every way too good for Webby, expect that Gosalyn gets angry when Webby says this, and lists of all the qualities that Webby presumptively has, even if Webby doesn’t recognise herself in Gosalyn’s description of herself.

But it’s fine. They fit together in the way innocent teenagers do, and embrace dating with the enthusiasm of people experiencing their first love. They hold hands, and when they are feeling especially naughty, they snuggle together on Gosalyn’s sofa and exchange slow and hesitant kisses.

The triplets tell them that they are positively disgusting, and that being in the same room with them could give anyone cavities. Despite this, Huey has also quite probably already planned their wedding, even if he admits to nothing. (but it is good to be prepared. Just in case. Don’t look at my notebook!)

All in all, the panic settles in Webby only when she is walking towards her home, hand in hand with Gosalyn, who is visiting Duckburg, and then realises that she can’t invite her in.

Despite how many times she has been told to call the manor her home, that she belongs there, that she is part of the family now, she still knows that this is not her home. This is Scrooge’s home, and in the end, he has the power to sweep Webby and granny out if he is so inclined. Webby has never before even though that Scrooge would do anything like that, but the thought now slithers in, unwanted and poisonous.

She says goodbye to Gosalyn in the city, and walks the rest of the way to the manor alone. She can’t help it. She has heard of so many parents, who have talked so many times about how they would never forsake their children because of their sexuality, that it has been made painfully clear that there are many others who would. And never be it for her to think of anything bad about Scrooge McDuck, but she doesn’t know.

Webby is not part of the family, not really. And uncle Scrooge (the word uncle suddenly sounds hesitant even inside her own thoughts) is pretty old fashioned, in his own way. He was born during the Victorian era after all, and made his fortune on the times of good old America. When men were men, and women were presumably also somewhere, and when everything was simpler and cleaner. It is the part of the McDuck legend that everyone will agree to respect and slightly envy. The current McDuck is free for the paparazzi and tabloids to scavenge, but the Scrooge McDuck of the nineteenth century is untouchable.

Webby understands. Reading the exploits of the nineteenth century Scrooge has been her favourite past time for years, and while she lives with the modern-day Scrooge, she still sometimes has problems seeing the two as the same person.

As she shuffles into the kitchen, she feels weird. Like a new Webby, who has slithered inside the skin of the old one and is now an imposter in her own home.

The newspaper that she had not read in the morning is still on the table, so she skims through it, noting that some brave armchair historian has once again decided to publish an unofficial biography of uncle Scrooge. It happened from time to time, and because there was no official one, they all rewrote uncle Scrooge’s past with a slightly different pen, while agreeing to keep the main framework the same. Glasgow-America-Klondike-Duckburg, and the rest of the world tucked here and there between.

Webby can already predict that uncle Scrooge will be irritated about the whole business, he has a notorious reputation on disapproving of books written about him.

He loves telling stories of his life, and hates it when somebody tells stories of his life to him. Webby kind of understands. Having someone look at you, and then telling you who you are, must be an irritating experience.

But none of this helps Webby at all, who feels even more anxious. She decides to retreat to her room, instead of staying to hang around. She doesn’t trust herself with already irritated uncle Scrooge right now.

Dragging her feet upstairs, she sees the triplets in the living room, playing video games. Webby watches them, and for the first time in years, she feels like she is not part of the gang. It’s stupid, she knows. The boys know about her and Gosalyn, but now that the snake of insecurity has been left out of the bag, it is wreaking full time havoc in her mind.

“Hey guys!”

“Hey Webby! How was your date?”

“Yeah….about that.” She fiddles with her skirt.

Huey abandons his game immediately, and leans over the sofa. “Did something go wrong?! Are you breaking up!!?”

“No, I…Nothing like that. It’s just, have you talked to anyone. About me and Gosalyn, I mean.?”

“Um…No.” Dewey says, and also leans over the sofa, eyes curious. “Why?”

“Well, it’s just that…can you maybe not? I don’t think I want anyone to know.”

Even Louie has now abandoned the game, and is looking at Webby over the sofa. Together the three of them fix their identical stares at her.

“Why not? Wouldn’t it be easier if everyone knew?”

“I mean…” Webby starts, and finds it difficult to put her feelings into words. “I just don’t want to make it into a such a big deal. I mean, she’s my first girlfriend, how long do you think it will last?” she laughs awkwardly, the words slightly painful, now that she thinks about the implications of them.

“I don’t know, you two fit pretty well together.” Dewey says hesitantly.

“Yeah, but… I’m thirteen, and…”

“You’ll be fourteen in a month.” Huey points out.

“Still. I just don’t want the adults to know that I’m dating anyone. Okay?”

Dating is something that grown-ups do, something that will fling her into new unfamiliar world, and that goes doubly for...for lesbians. lesbians, who are always beautiful, and adults, and a bit dangerous. Lesbians don’t fall asleep curled against Scrooge McDuck on the sofa, listening to his stories. Lesbians don’t play around with Launchpad, and they don’t get piggy-back rides from uncle Donald.

Webby doesn’t want to give all that up. Not yet. Not even for Gosalyn. She isn’t ready to shed her skin that completely.

“Whatever you say.” Louie shrugs, and that seems to be the general consensus between the triplets in the end. Webby feels suddenly like she is not part of the nephew gang anymore, and feels again the seed of insecurity growing inside her. She excuses herself and escapes to her room.

Glasgow, 1878

“Hey Scrooge! Polished lots of fancy boots today?!” The caller was an eleven-year-old dog-girl with thick brown hair and clever blue eyes.

“Hey Fanny! You know it!” Answered the also currently eleven-year-old millionaire-to-be

The two grubby children settled to sit on the steps of the already closed pawn shop, shooing a great big rat to return back to its shadowy home underneath the house’s structures. Pests fighting for space in the setting sun.

The pawn shop was a popular spot for the two children to meet at the end of the day, as it represented the magical in-between place on the edges of both west- and east-ends of Glasgow. Sitting under the sign of the shop, you could easily see the beautiful church, and the beautiful houses that spread over west end, holding in them the beautiful people and their beautiful dreams. This close, you could also partake in the beautiful dreams, if maybe not anything else.

“So, how’s the business?” Fanny asked, leaning back and letting her feet settle on top of her overturned cart. During the summer days, she sold flowers on the streets, and on winter she changed her wares to matches. Ribbons she sold all through the year.

“Not bad.” Scrooge let his own short legs rest on his shoe shiners box. “I have been thinking of starting to sell firewood when winter comes. If I have money for a cart of course.” The cold wind picked up and made the young boy shiver underneath his sweater. He had been sweating heavily during the day, and now the exhaustion was starting to pick up after the fourteen-hour work day. “Not everybody cares about the state of their boots, but everybody wants to stay warm.” He added.

“That’ true.” Fanny agreed. She lifted her arm and the knitted shawl with it. It was the fanciest piece of clothing that she owned, and made her look less like a slum dweller and more like someone the customers would be willing to approach. Scrooge gladly scooted underneath the arm and the corner of the woollen shawl.

The two children watched in silence as the steady stream of carriages started their migration from west to eastwards, as they always did after sunset. A horde of bored lordlings, and other gentlemen of all ages, invaded the music halls, pubs, and other even seedier places, that were so easy to find on the east side of the city.

An open carriage full of young men, from the university, rumbled past the pawn shop steps, the carriage-floor full of wine bottles clinking with every turn of the wheels. With the hollering boys sat four much more ragged girls, laughing just as loudly, but much less authentically. Seeing Fanny and Scrooge, the petite brunette sitting on one of the boy’s laps graced them with a real smile and a quick wave.

Scrooge and Fanny waved back. [i]

“Maggie looks better.” Scrooge observed, remembering how sick his neighbour had been just last week. His mother had already been fearing for the worst, shaking her head and looking more resigned every time she went to take a bowl of soup to the ill girl, living in the much smaller apartment next door.

“She’s tougher than she looks.” Fanny said. “We all thought that it was going to be her death this time for sure.”

“papa says that it was probably something in the water. There has been something going around again in the neighbourhood.” Scrooge shuffled a little, letting his friend rest her head against his shoulder. Fanny lived close to his family, but not that close. Truth to be told, Scrooge’s family home was possibly luxurious compared to the hovel that Fanny and her sister and her sister’s Friend, (Friend capitalized.) lived in, and their water seemed to always be a bit unreliable. But Fanny was also tough, and you would never catch her complaining about anything.

“aye, I know, for us too. We try not to drink the water at all right now.” She shrugged, used to the problem. They all were used to most of the problems in east end.

“Speaking of.” Fanny hopped off the steps for a second and fished a bottle from the pouch nailed to the side of her cart. Hopping back, she settled back besides Scrooge. “Want some big sister’s home brewed?” She wrinkled her nose, sniffing from the neck of the bottle. “ugh. I miss water more and more every day.”

“Me too.” Scrooge agreed. “I bet west-end pipes never get polluted like ours do.” He accepted the bottle from Fanny and sipped at the beer inside.[ii] It was not the strong kind that Fanny’s sister sold to the factory workers from her window, but the milder kind that wouldn’t get you more than tipsy, even if you drank a barrel. The taste was familiar to Scrooge, whose family diligently bought the overpriced milk in instances of the water going more foul than usual, and then gave that milk to Hortensia, who was the youngest. Downy was not particularly happy about it, but she had to be realistic about what they could and couldn’t afford. Still, Scrooge’s mother kept a strict policy of no laudanum[iii], no mercury, and gin only if you had a bad cough. She fussed about her children like that.

“hmmh. What are you going to do when you are rich?” Fanny asked. This was a game they both loved play in these companionable moments watching the west-end carriages together. Using the word when, instead of if. Pretending that moving from one social class to another was something which was not only easy and possible, but also acceptable. Like the entire society would not hate you, if you broke the greatest taboo of all, rejecting the class you were born into.

“I’m going to save our ancestral home.”

“Oh yes. I forgot.” Fanny laughed cheerfully. “You’re a little lord in disguise.”

“oh, shut it!” Scrooge shoved his friend. “I’m never gonna be like them!” A carriage again rolled past, carrying with it an older gentleman, who looked at the two children sitting on the steps, and then spat on their general direction. Fanny spat back, but the carriage had already rolled past them and disappeared from behind the corner.

“Honestly, you would think that they have nothing better to do than spit on the poor!” She hissed. “When I’m rich, I’m going to leave this city, and do so many interesting things, and not end up driving around the city just to show everyone how much better I am!” She sipped at her beer angrily.

“When I’m rich-“ Scrooge started, taking his number one dime from his pocket and rolling it on his fingers, “I’m going to tell everyone that it is better to work for your money than to inherit it. That it’s not the natural order, to stay in your place!”

“they’ll throw you to jail for that.” Fanny laughed.

“No, they won’t. I will be rich then. They never throw rich people to jail.”

They both laughed at that.

“Besides, I’m going to America. They say that things are different in there.”

“The priest says that all American’s are immoral. They let miners wear top-hats and-“ Here Fanny whispered “They marry outside their own class!”

It sounded scandalous. It sounded impossible. It sounded wonderfully wicked! Both children shared sly glances and laughed again, a conspiring laugh. For both of them, it was hard to imagine someone marrying outside their social-class. A year ago, there had been a scandal in the papers, when Lord. Dashwing’s daughter had gotten married to a gentleman, who had then turned out to be a son of an accountant! The engagement had been called off, the girl had been sent to a nunnery to repent her sins, and the accountant’s son had disappeared of to Paris.

“Well, they don’t have lords, so of course they are a bit different. I think I would like that. If there were no lords and lordlings driving around without anything to do, expect to spit on us.”

“there will always be lordlings spitting at us.” Fanny sighed, eyes looking faraway into the distance.

An awkward silence descended, and Scrooge bumped his shoulder against his friends to break her away from her mood.

“Hey. At least you will never have to marry one, there are always some upsides to the natural order.”

A surprised laugh escaped Fanny, and Scrooge felt successful.

“aw´hell no! I think I’ll settle for Friendship with some level-headed girl, like sis, and concentrate on opening my own shop”[iv]

“I’ll visit your shop when I come back from America, pockets full of gold, then.” Scrooge smiled, and hopped from the steps, collecting his shoe-shining kit into his hands. “I’ll have to go, Ma is waiting for me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow! And hey, that better be a promise McDuck!”

Two years later Scrooge McDuck was one of the eight people attending Fanny Glenn’s funeral. The newspapers wrote a sensationalist tale about the tragedy of the girl who used to sell flowers on the marketplace, who seduced a young gentleman from the university into wickedness. How the girl had a brief prompt of insanity as she tried to seek out the worst kind of doctors, offering dangerous herbal remedies popular amongst the lower-class girls, and who finally died, poisoned, as the story had been related to the press by the weeping sister of the deceased.

Fanny’s sister had actually told the press that there had been something in the water again, which had made Fanny fatally ill, and could the city-council please do something to the pipes.

It was a much more boring story, and couldn’t even be used to teach the readers about morality, so it was ignored.

[i] During the 1800-century, prostitution in big cities reached never before, and never after, seen figures. In Glasgow alone, there were over 450 (accounted for) brothels in the middle of the nineteenth century. That is over twice more than there are Starbucks in New York today, and that is not even counting the army of girls who worked from their own homes, or on the streets. The point is, that a working-class boy who spent his days wandering the city streets, would have been running into sex-workers all the time.

[ii] The beer house act in 1830 allowed anyone to sell and brew beer freely, which exploded the beer market. The motive behind opening the beer business was the governments hope to steer the citizens away from harmful gin, and towards beer, which was seen to be a safe drink. Predictably, the price of beer was on all time low, if the quality was also debatable. Giving beer to children was also not such a taboo as it is today, and literature of the time describes boarding schools giving the children often a pint of beer to go with their bread.

[iii] Laudanum, a popular medicine found in almost every Victorian home, was made from opium mixed with either wine or water. It was used as aspirin is used today, and “mother’s friend” was a common way to refer to opium given to babies as a medicine.

[iv] Romantic feelings between two women were not seen as inherently wrong, it was the idea of sex that made the Victorians go into snits. But women were seen as entirely asexual creatures anyway, so the idea of two women in romantic relationship having sex would not even have crossed a gentleman’s mind. (Or, well, he wouldn’t have said it out loud.) But women did create strong “friendships” with each other, which included sending each other flowers, love letters, and even sometimes referring to each other as husband and wife. Did these romantic friends then have sex? Quite probably at least the working-class girls, who decided to live together and work, instead of marrying, might have dappled into a more sexual relationship, but nobody cared what working class girls were doing anyway.

For more info, I really advise you to read this article:

https://theyorkhistorian.com/2017/07/06/friendships-lesbianism-and-identity-in-victorian-britain/

#ducktales 2017 #fanfic #ducktales fanfic #webby vanderquack #Scrooge McDuck #need to communicate to each other #the unnecessary gay panic #Scrooge's awful victorian childhood #the fic with too many footnotes #the fic that will talk about gay history #when it just should be telling a coherent story #lol bye I'm throwing myself into a pit

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fairymoved · 7 years

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This is from a very recent but over all scrapped ideas for The Witch Report where our protagonist works as a fashion blogger with a few colorful peers. Though I may not use the idea,I think it still has some potential. I’ve read a lot of of those teen girl books back in middle school and still have a soft spot for them.

Contains mentions of body horror and implied eating disorders.

word estimate: 1100

“Hey, Eve,” Andrew said in between bites of a breakfast bar that has been residing in the bottom of his drawer for lord knows how long. “Francine says the hot topic of this week is if people with mouths on their throats should wear scarves. I mean, personally, I think it’s the quality of the fabric that really matters but you’re the only person I know who thinks ascots are still cool so I wanted your input.”

Eve turned away from her computer screen to meet eyes with her neighbor, twenty-seven-year-old Broadway musical enthusiast Andrew Blake who was roughly five hundred words into an essay about shoes for people with less toes than average and a quarter of a way through his snack.

“That depends,” Eve said. “Are we talking about those light scarves or knitted winter ones?”

“Well, I think, uh, light scarves? Yeah, light scarves.”

“I think anyone should be allowed to wear scarves,” Eve said. “But the people with the extra mouths definitely should invest in one. Did you know that the extra mouth actually derives nutrients from the small follicles and material found in fabric? Like, the microscopic parts human eyes can’t see, they can feed off of it which can warn off their cravings for everyday food. That’s something I learned recently, isn’t it cool?”

Andrew stared at her blankly. “So…yes on scarves?”

“Yes on scarves.”

“I’ll give the good word to Franny when they finally get out of the bathroom. Do you think they deliberately give me trivial questions to answer before they go out for a long time just to mess with me?”

“Franny is kind of weird in general,” Eve replied, looking back at her computer. “You two have been working together long enough, I figured you would know about all their mannerisms at this point.”

“They’re full of surprises,” Andrew said, shoving the wrapper into the bottom drawer saved specifically for wrappers. “And they were full of almonds this morning. I think they’re doing that weird diet where you eat a bunch of fiber products and then shit them out later. Sounds inconvenient but whatever works, I guess.”

“They’re a size negative two, what are they trying to fit in now?”

“A partially opened door.”

Eve had gotten comfortable with all of her department in the span of two years she’d spent at The Real Deal. The fashion department was nothing too big-none of the departments really were-but it paid to know who’s who when it came to your work station.

Running down the list, Eve can recall the full names and primarily roles of the four people, plus herself, who kept the fashion engine running year-round: First there was Paula Steris, the oldest person at forty-one and the most worn and cynical. She’d been a boutique owner in the past, a boutique that specialized in Picasso inspired shapes barely formidable for every day wear. The clothes were so stiff and gaudy that they’d be better off in an abstract museum than on a person’s actual body. The few people who bought them were either just deformed enough to mold into the cubes and spheres constituting the pieces or lazy art students looking to pass it off as passing grades for their final exams.

Paula had a falling out when she fell into bankruptcy and dragged her clunky shoes to The Real Deal to reclaim herself as the one true abstract fashion mastermind. Her keen eye for working the most bizarre of shapes into fabric made her a viable asset for managing stories about the shifting tides of human anatomy and the supply and demand of local stores to create clothing to cater to them. She seemed to derive some sort of amusement from watching business owners struggle to work unique figures into their shops, as if this were karma on all those who casted doubts on her failing business.

Next on the list was Sylvia Sanchez. Fresh out of high school and already thrown into the work force, Sylvia had her sights set on all thing related to headwear. Each day she strolled into the office sporting some new scarf, hat, ribbon, or headband atop her tightly curled black hair. She’d gotten in trouble in school for her need to wear the most flamboyant of headgear during class and assemblies and was clearly reveling all the opportunities she had now to flaunt the best and brightest from her collection. Today’s accessory of the day was-Eve quickly looked over her shoulder-a light up cat ear headband.

Francine Wright, who was still taking their sweet time in the restroom, was a jack of all trades. They were a writer for whatever topic they chose, editor for whatever was worth their time, and a sucker for whatever new diet fad was making the runs…sometimes literally. Francine’s partner of choice was no other than Andrew, an aspiring costume designer who wrote articles about the newest plays coming to a local theater and whatever extravagant pieces they’d be flaunting.

With his admiration for old band t-shirts and camo, he never rubbed anyone off as a fan of performing arts. Granted, it was part of the reason he and Francine hit it off so quickly when their first argument turned into a casual exchange about that handsome new singing-dancing-acting showstopper who was starring in this year’s revival of Grease.

Eve’s primary focus was on all things vintage. She was a fan of the passing eras and took any opportunity to give them a comeback in both her stories and her personal wardrobe. Poodle skirts, belts across the waist, corsets if she ever got lucky-she’d collect it, rework it, and wear it again. Eve was the creative outlet for all the Lolita’s from sweet to gothic, for the teens who wanted to dress like fifty’s housewives, for those who wanted to hail cabs with silk scarves, and for the men who wanted to dress like gentlemen from the eighteenth century as a show of chivalry. It was Eve’s time in world history that truly got her exploring the multiple branches of fashion throughout the years and her essay defending the use of powdered wigs in the modern day was what got her sailing out of class with a B+.

She desperately wanted to know why people didn’t carry around parasols in broad daylight like they did in the Victorian era and where the subtle class of wearing saddle shoes went, as if it were ever going to be trendy when Elvis Presley said so. Eve knew she wasn’t going to make massive waves in the fashion circuit, though the idea that she had made the slightest difference in someone’s wardrobe gave her reassurance she was doing something right.

#nanowrimo #prima writes #prima ponders #original fiction #supernatural horror

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zibizuba · 5 years

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Lifestyle People Weird

While you’re probably aware of furries and cosplayers, there are lots of weird subcultures out there that have managed to evade the mainstream. The strangest subcultures are just people with a specific style, talent, or fetish who gather to share their interests with fellow enthusiasts. You might not have heard about them because they are kept secret on purpose, or because the groups exist in obscure enclaves that most of us never stumble across.

Almost every country in the world has a handful of subcultures that seem truly odd to outsiders, and the internet has spawned thousands more virtual communities, linking people across continents and languages in their unusual preferences. Some of these communities are sweet and harmless, while others are dangerous by design. From strange sports to disturbing body modifications to fairytale fashion trends, these are some of the world’s strangest subcultures that you’ve probably never heard of before.

Bagel Heads Transform Their Foreheads

There are a lot of bizarre body modification subcultures out there, but bagel heads might be one of the strangest. Bagel heads achieve a bagel shape on their foreheads through a saline injection, not surgery. It isn’t a permanent modification, either; it doesn’t last more than a few hours, which is part of the appeal. The trend originated in Canada but has taken hold in Japan. As you can probably guess, health professionals have expressed concern about the safety of the procedure, especially when performed unsanitarily.

Stalkers Risk Their Lives In Chernobyl

In 1986, Chernobyl became the site of one of the worst nuclear disasters in history. It remains a highly dangerous radioactive zone. This fact doesn’t deter a group of young Ukrainians who have taken to exploring the highly dangerous off-limits area, called the “Dead Zone” or “Exclusion Zone.” The group, sometimes referred to as stalkers, share tips for getting into the Exclusion Zone on Internet forums. Many document their excursions online, ignoring the fact that visitors need governmental permission to enter the zone.

Competitive Endurance Tickling Is A Tightly Kept Secret

Competitive endurance tickling videos can be found in the dark corners of YouTube, hinting at a slightly sexual and vaguely sinister sport. In the 2016 documentary Tickled, journalist David Farrier attempted to find out the story behind the videos. He discovered that a company called Jane O’Brien media was bankrolling most of the vids, flying almost exclusively young white men across the country to participate in the sport. The company fired back against the documentary with a defamation lawsuit, which only added to the sport’s intrigue.

Lolitas Dress Like Victorian Dolls

Lolitas are people who participate in a fashion subculture that takes its cues from a little girl’s tea party. Lolitas wear lots of ruffles, pink, petticoats, and banana curls. The trend originated in Japan in the 1970s but has caught on internationally, with Lolita-style clothing stores opening in the United States, among other places. While you might imagine that the style takes its name from the Vladimir Nabokov novel about fetishizing a young girl, Japanese designers in the 1970s apparently picked the name because it sounded cute and girly. In fact, some Lolitas insist that the clothing style is empowering for women because of its loudness and distinctiveness.

Elevator Enthusiasts Film Their Journeys From Floor To Floor

Most of us take elevators without thinking, but elevator enthusiasts live for their vertical journeys. The subculture has thrived on YouTube, with enthusiasts taking videos of their elevator excursions, which might involve riding an elevator for an extended period of time, spotlighting exceptional elevators, or riding to the highest floor. Why the fascination? Enthusiasts are generally interested in the mechanics and motion of elevators, as well as in their history. It’s not as niche as you might think; many popular videos have hundreds of thousands of views on YouTube.

Disneyland Gangs Rove Around The Happiest Place On Earth

In addition to couples and families, Disneyland in California boasts group-affiliated gangs of Disney fans. You can recognize them by their Disney tattoos and matching jackets covered with Mickey pins and patches. Despite what some parents on Disney message boards think, the Jungle Cruisers and Wonderlanders don’t have rumbles. Instead, they’re just groups of major Disney fans who’ve found a group of like-minded Mickey-lovers.

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