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#page update from my dog coming up!
th3-0bjectivist · 2 months
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“Oblivion Haze” - Acrylic paint on canvas
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birdantlers · 8 months
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
Muting notifs
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pakhnokh · 9 months
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House of Gentians Arc 2 || Pages 163-168 END
Wei Ying: Sorry, I can't let Lan Wangji hold me by the waist like that again ;___;
Me: Goddammit, alright, have it your way, but I'm going to draw the most intense panels of you putting your hands on his shoulders. Is Lan Wangji flinching cause it's Wei Ying who's touching him so fiercely? Is it the fact that his scars that are barely healed yet hurt from that grip? You decide!
ARC 2 EXTRAS FOR PАТRОNS Extra mini comic: The Dog Art pieces Extra mini comic: Cornetto commercial
ARC 2 Complete PDF with extras ARC 3 (TBA)
PREVIOUS PART
ABOUT+TABLE OF CONTENTS
IMPORTANT NOTE: Always be sure to click on my profile and check for updates because if you see a random part reblogged IT MIGHT NOT BE THE EDITED VERSION WITH THE WORKING LINK TO THE NEXT PART ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Arc 2 has come to its end! Yes, I can't believe it too. It's been 11 months since I posted the arc's cover image. I've been through so much since then, so much of my life has changed and yet working on this project, providing 4 pages every week, was somewhat of a blessed constant and fairly, I'm going to miss it.
I have to say that I'm very grateful to you, the readers, because your excitement with this story and the wonderful comments and questions and interest and insights you left on each part is what kept me going and also helped me understand my story better, so THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! A HUGE THANK YOU TOO FOR MY PАТRОNS!!!! I wouldn't have been able to do NONE of it if it weren't for your amazing support. You have no idea how grateful I am that you are giving me the opportunity not only to create this story for you and for others, but to also develop myself further as an artist (this is the first time I do a long comic of such a scale and by thinking about you when I make updates every week, I think how much better I can make my work). Your support is also a huge help with my daughter, not only because you help me provide for her, but also because in spite of the fact that taking care of her gets more and more difficult, you being there keeps me motivated to not give up on drawing and succumb to 100% life of a mother and a housewife. You save me <3.
So what now? Now I will work on extras for members of the peke-king tier on my Pатrеоn. I will create extra comic pages, a few more arts, and a funny comic strip. When all of that is done, I will create the PDF and upload it to the shared drive (I think this arc+extras is going to be about 200 pages!!) after that, I will take a break from HoG to finish other MDZS projects I halted, and after those are done I will take a break entirely to reread MDZS and consume all its media again, so I will remember forgotten parts and get that spark ready for Arc 3! So absolutely stay tuned! Thank you all again for being with me in this journey, and hope you enjoyed the story! <3
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ezdotjpg · 2 months
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do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD
OH BOY DO I
In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD
You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.
There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol
It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol
This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.
I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.
these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF
I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.
Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!
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I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol
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I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D
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russellsppttemplates · 4 months
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So... pure and so you (Charles Leclerc)
Going back home means Charles sees how you've been healing, and your parents haven't missed it either
Note: english is not my first language. I know it's past Christmas, but this still counts, right?
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: talks about having kids
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Is your mother making those biscuits I really like? Those fluffy ones, they're like little cakes actually", Charles asked, his hand over the console and resting on your thigh as he turned left for the final cut to your house.
"She said she was planning on making them these afternoon, I can't wait!", you squealed, clapping your hands together at the prospect, seeing your parents left the gate open so you could drive in.
Parking the car, Charles ensured it was safe before coming out of it as well, being greeted by your family dog while you hugged your parents, "hello buddy, how are you? You're very excited to see us, hm? Yes you are!", Charles cooed, rubbing his belly as he wagged his tail at the attention he was receiving.
You hugged your parents before looking for your boyfriend, "Arlo loves Charles more than he loves me", you chuckled, seeing the labrador run back to you as Charles followed him.
"Hi, how are you?", Charles offered as he kissed your mother's cheeks, opting to shake your father's hand as you walked inside, "did you have a good drive back here?", he questioned him, "yes, not too bad actually. It wasn't too busy", your boyfriend replied, seeing you store your coats and get comfortable in your parents' house.
After lunch, your mother asked for help with baking while your father and Charles helped with preparing the table to you could then roll the dough properly.
It was a sight to behold. You were helping your mother with Christmas cookies and the cakes your boyfriend mentioned, your clothes littered with flour stains as you touched your mother's cheek with some of the mixture, containing your laugh as she didn't seem to notice the powder on her skin.
You were happy, giggly and you had a glow that Charles was sure put all of the products you had back home to shame.
"It's good to see her like this", Charles commented when he felt your father's eyes on him, "work has been a lot lately, and she'll only listen to so much of what I say and take the advice even less than I'd like", he chuckled.
Your father shook his head, "She's always been like that. It was worrisome for a little bit, and we always make sure she's not pushing herself too much. And we know we have you in our team, too", the older man touched a Charles' shoulder, rubbing it slightly before he offered him a drink.
After wishing your parents a good night, you and Charles headed to your room upstairs, needing to catch up on some sleep after the busy day. Your old bedroom had slightly changed since you moved out to live with your boyfriend. Your parents swapped your single bed for a double one, for whenever you and Charles visited, and updated the colour of the walls, wanting to keep it on the neutral side in case they needed it for other guests, "are you showering now or after me?", Charles asked, grabbing a towell from himself, "I'll go after you, I need to hang my clothes first", you smiled, kissing his lips as he went to the bathroom.
Looking through your wardrobe, you noticed your mother still kept the family albums in there, remembering something about the downstairs drawers being humid and her worry about loosing the memories. You flickered through the pages, recalling some memories from when you were younger, some of them you probably constructed by other people telling you the moments.
Charles walked in a little while later, ruffling his hair with a towell only in a t-shirt and underwear, "you can go now, amour", he said as he noticed you closing the album, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you walked to take a shower.
You were already in bed when you noticed Charles looking at the books, "you want to look at what's inside them, don't you?", you chuckled as his eyes lit up, "I'm not too tired to look at them, and I bet there are some good memories in there", he confessed.
Opening the book while your boyfriend pulled you to rest against his chest, "this is so pretty", you appreciated all the details on the pages, either doodles or descriptions from the moment when the picture was taken.
"Look at these cheeks!", Charles groaned as he pointed at a picture of you. From the date on the page, you were around four, two pigtails on your curly hair and a toothy smile, "if our kids have your cheeks, which I hope they do, I won't be able to stop kissing them, I know I just won't", he breathed out.
"Do you think about that a lot?", you wondered, looking at his face as you adjusted your position slightly, genuinely curious about the subject. It had been something you had talked about before and it seemed to come to again.
"Yes, I do. I still think we should wait a little bit longer, get married first, enjoy married life just you and me and then we can think about little ones, but everytime I see a child or someone asks, it's you I see. With a baby bump, then a little baby in your arms, and we play with them and love in them like they deserve", he cooed, rubbing the tip of his nose on your cheek, kissing it softly.
"Me too", you smiled, "I mean, its always you I see whenever I think about the future. And it looks so good. Sometimes it looks scary, because I don't know how it will play out, but I'll have you with me, so all will be well", you admitted, kissing his lips properly.
You had been friends before you dated, and it has been a whole process to get you to be this open to him when you started dating, never wanting to put too much on his plate as he had his own things to deal with, not wanting to burden him and not wanting to lose him from your life.
"We're a team, amour, there's no need to fear", he said, closing the book and setting it down on the floor, cuddling you to him.
The next morning was slow. Charles' lips littered kisses on your neck and cheeks, seeing the smile as you slowly woke up, "it's Christmas, ma belle", you heard his whisper, his eyes looking for yours, "Merry Christmas, handsome, I love you", you muttered, pulling your hands out from under the covers and cupping your boyfriend's' cheeks, rubbing the stubbly skin before kissing him.
"I love how smiley you are", Charles complimented, big coats and scarf on as you walked on the trail after having breakfast, occasionally pestering your mother with a fallen tree branch or twigs as she thought some animal was crawling up her skin.
"Am I not smiley regularly?", you wondered, knowing what he meant. Coming home meant, after a lot of work on yourself over the years, you would enjoy yourself without any outside pressures. You were amongst family and in the safe place you grew up. No prying eyes, no one commenting or second guessing what you said, wore or looked like.
"You are, but you're carefree, I think. You're not so stressed, your inner child is showing so much more, and it's so... pure. So you", he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he pulled you to walk closer to him.
They had both become adults way faster than the rest of the people their age. Charles' career forced him to grow up earlier and grow thicker skin very early on, and because you were there with him, too, you were also taken with the wave. You started working as soon as you finished your degree, and while you wouldn't complain about it, it did come with a lot of work and investment of yourself that you lost some of your younger years.
"Whenever we are not doing well, when it gets too much, we will do this. Visit your parents, do all the childish things we want to do, no matter how silly they may be", Charles stated as he rubbed your palm with his thumb, "I never want you to give up this side of you, and I'm willing to do anything to see you smile like that again and again".
Smiling at his words at chuckling slightly at the fact that there was no way this man was ever getting away from you, you held out your pinky, "I promise", you smiled as you two laced fingers, sealing it with a kiss.
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fltwoodsmonster · 2 years
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hey hold on a sec
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I just realized both op and the commenter are insane trad christains so im deleting my reblog (because im not platforming their shit -- this is ALSO why im censoring their URLs I’m not going to give them traffic) and instead reposing it with the following links/information:
1) The WHO still actively hosts a guide on how to create safe milk substitutes when access to breastmilk/milk substitutes are unavailable on the Institutional Repository for Information Sharing (iris). The guide is called “Infant Feeding in Emergencies: A Guide for Mothers”. Relevant information starts on page 38.
2) Here is a link to the archived guide WITH THE CAUTION that I was not able to find out why its no longer provided by the WHO or iris. It could be that the information is out of date. I am only sharing it because I think the visuals may be helpful for people who have trouble reading written directions. Consult the above link first, then refer to this guide only if you need clarification on how to perform certain actions. Link to archive.
3) The language in that second comment throws up so may red flags. I cropped it to only the information needed to understand the context of this post because I find it immensely suspect. The repeated allusions to 2020 for no apparent reason (but I can guess why, as an infection disease scientist) come across as loaded or dog-whistely. I would advise against sharing the OP for that reason. But because the information being provided is important and not well known, I’m making this alternative post for people to reblog. 
4) The implication that the WHO is censoring information based on a 404 page is a really flimsy and extreme conclusion to jump to. The “Infant Feeding in Emergencies” guide I linked above also goes to a 404 page on the WHO’s main website - but again, can be accessed through iris instead. So no, the information on how to feed infants in a food crisis is not being censored by the WHO.
5) A more likely cause for the guide disappearing is that the link broke and they didn’t fix it. If you look at the original URL it indicates the guide was posted in a subcategory on the WHO’s website about International Crises, specifically in the Middle East. If you try to type in a shortened versions of that URL (specifically https://www.who.int/hac/crises/ or the slightly modified http://www.who.int/hac/crises/en/) you’ll see that the subdomain that was present with relevant info breaks around 2020. In fact, while testing this hypothesis, I came across this information page in a November 2021 version of the URL https://www.who.int/home/cms-decommissioning (which I was redirected to automatically from http://www.who.int/hac/crises/en/):
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There is no nefarious conspiracy theory. The link simply broke - as many many many many links do on the internet. The second commenters reply is proven bunk by a little bit of fact checking.
sorry for the long post, but I think the information on infant nutrition substitutes is genuinely useful, lifesaving info -- but i’m not going to give more people with dangerous ideological views spouting nonsense a platform.
update (5/20/22):
I had hope this was a given, but I want to be explicitly clear.
Using an at-home formula substitute should be a last resort. Contact your infant’s physician or a pediatrician before attempting to make your own milk substitute.
I am also going to leave a link to the Academy of Breastfeeding Medicine’s statement on breast milk substitute shortages.
Do not blindly follow internet posts in regards to the health of yourself or your children. I wanted to share this post simply because I, myself, did not even know it was possible to make milk substitutes and thought it was useful to be aware of in an time when access to substitutes is unprecedentedly difficult.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months
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Wow! As the header says, my blog just went past 5k followers - I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who hopped on for this journey; I'm having the time of my life sharing my writing with you all.
In celebration and as a way to have a little fun - I'll be opening my inbox for a day and letting those who want to send in something fill it up!
Now, I know you're probably asking yourself 'Hal, I thought you said requests are going to be closed so you can finish the ones you have and work on the AUs?' And you'd be correct - I did say that. I'm not going to be writing full-length works for this event.
To anyone who sends something in (and follows the rules I have in place on my Request Form (be sure to check it even if you've already read it, I added some more characters and other stuff)) I'll be writing one-to-two page drabbles!
All this being said, after this post is uploaded I'll be opening my inbox up to anyone who would want to participate and closing it exactly one day after!
Thank you again for being the best community ever - I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by kind and respectful individuals as well as mutuals who are mind-numbingly sweet. I could not have achieved all of this without you; I think that's beautiful.
This post will also serve as the Masterlist for all of the expected drabbles, so if you'd like to keep updated on what's going to be happening/being written soon, this would be a good place to hang out!
ALL COMPLETED AS OF 11/5/2023
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IMAGES USED: A black retriever in an extensive mountainous landscape by Maud Earl & L'angelo, la morte e il diavolo by Roberto Ferri || TOTAL: 5
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➣The Perfect One
╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞
➣Get In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞
➣Hum Me A Tune, Blue-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [You listen to his heartbeat as he keeps you to his chest, his breath tickling your hair.] ❞
➣Here Now
╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞
➣Burst Veins
╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞
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IMAGES USED:  Fallen Angel by Roberto Ferri & Nature of Fear by Nicola Samori || TOTAL: 5
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➣Nervous Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞
➣Blood Like Obsidian
╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞
➣Supposed To Happen
╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞
➣Digging Gaze
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
➣Sole Survivor
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: White and Black by Vadim Gorbatov & Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne || TOTAL: 7
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➣Didn't Mean It
╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞
➣Him, Her, and the Dog
╰┈➤ ❝ [The woes of pining after a woman whose deadly K9 looks like it hates his guts.] ❞
➣Drunken Sappiness
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞
➣How Do You Listen To That?
╰┈➤ ❝ [It was three a.m. when you all got the call to load up, but what's the best way to wake both yourself and the Sergeant up?] ❞
➣Finally Broken
╰┈➤ ❝ [Childhood friends turned lovers. The realization was far more violent and instantaneous than you'd like to admit.] ❞
➣Don't Look At Her
╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞
➣In His Head
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: Scene from the Great Flood by Joseph-Désiré Court & Saint Jerome in Prayer by Carlo Dolci || TOTAL: 7
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➣Life Snaps By In Flashes
╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞
➣Heart-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞
➣From Ten To Twenty & Beyond
╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞
➣Find Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞
➣Still The Same Fools
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞
➣Is This Why?
╰┈➤ ❝ [He finally sees why you never introduced him to your parents.] ❞
➣Oblivious Pining
╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: King Gustav III of Sweden and His Brothers by Alexander Roslin & Geography lesson by Eduard Karl Gustav Lebrecht Pistorius || TOTAL: 6
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KEEGAN P. RUSS:
➣Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞
➣Hold Her Close
╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞
➣When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞
➣Movies and Stale Popcorn
╰┈➤ ❝ [Oak and Keegan finally get to watch that movie.] ❞
DAVID 'HESH' WALKER:
➣To The Boy of My Childhood
╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞
➣Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home
╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Caravaggio & Amor Vincit Omnia by Caravaggio || TOTAL: 17
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CAPTAIN JOHN 'SOAP' MACTAVISH:
➣New Paint
╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞
➣A Song of Gnashing Teeth
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞
➣Listen To My Voice
╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞
➣Look At The Stars; Look At Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞
➣Alive and Breathing
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞
➣I Can See It In Your Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞
➣A Green-Eyed Monster
╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.] ❞
SERGEANT GARY 'ROACH' SANDERSON:
➣Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞
➣Raining Cats and Dogs
╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞
OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KELLER:
➣Bright-Eyed History Lesson
╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞
COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS:
➣Hold Me Longer
╰┈➤ ❝ [Mornings spent in the sanctity of warm sunlight and bare skin.] ❞
SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO 'RUDY' PARRA:
➣A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong
╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞
COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES:
➣Sleeping On The Porch
╰┈➤ ❝ [As it turns out, your husband never really died. It's safe to say you're not overjoyed.] ❞
➣Love Echoes In Silence
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞
SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER:
➣Ain't Giving Up My Pride
╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞
ALL 141 INCLUDED (SEPARATE):
➣Count The Hours
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞
➣Wide-Eyed Panic
╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞
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hallecarey1 · 1 year
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His Touch | Bucky Barnes
Summary: As Bucky is suffering because he can't reassure you that he is returning home, you were suffering because you didn't know if Bucky would come home to you. After returning, he shows that you will never lose him, and you connect in a way that proves nothing eases suffering like human touch.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Smut (18+)
Author's note: This was my first attempt at writing smut, and to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.
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Flashes of Bucky's bloody corpse flooded your mind while you did nothing but sit and worry about him. The thought of Steve or Fury knocking on your door to inform you that Bucky died during the mission had kept you pacing in front of it restlessly.
Despite Fury's warning that the mission would be challenging, you were confident that Bucky would return home a few days later. But when the days grew into weeks and there were no updates, you began to worry that he would never return to you. 
Bucky knows he needs to return to you because you've told him several times in the middle of the night, with tears running down your cheeks and his arms around your waist, that you simply can't live without him. It was his promise to you just before boarding the Quinjet two weeks ago.
There hasn't been any word from anyone regarding his whereabouts, and the fact that he's been missing for two weeks brings back flashbacks of Bucky at Hydra. You were horrified as the thought of Bucky being kidnapped by Hydra struck yet another emotional nerve. You drank from the whisky bottle, hoping that the burn of the alcohol down your throat would ease your thoughts and stop the memories of your captivity with the Soldat. 
When you entered Bucky's room, you had changed into clean pajamas, your damp hair clinging to the shirt. Bucky's scent hit you as his red henley draped over your tiny frame, evoking a sense of protection and comfort. You crawled into his bed and grabbed a book to keep yourself occupied until you got an update on Bucky. 
You yawn as you lie in bed, taking in the soft pillow and comfortable mattress. You felt the full impact of tiredness from the many days and nights you had not slept as you turned a new page in your book. Bucky's scent drifting from his bed and shirt, as well as the warmth of his bed, lulled you to sleep.
Within hours of you falling asleep, the compound's elevator opened to reveal a bloodied and bruised Bucky. Bucky dashed to his room after Dr.Cho patched up his wounds so he could finally sleep and hold you in his arms. 
He stumbled onto the floor, which he shared with Steve and Sam, and carefully opened the door to his room with the goal not to wake you up. As he entered his room and saw you curled into a ball with his red henley draped over your tiny frame and his dog tags around your neck, he couldn't control his arousal. He approached you and removed the book from your sleeping figure, which he placed on the bedside table.
The spark of desire he felt when he saw you wearing his henley and dog tags sprang from a need to show everyone that you were his, as well as a possessive desire to keep outsiders and newcomers from touching what was his. Bucky was kindling that deep longing in him, but he controlled it because, no matter how much he wanted to stake his claim on you, he just needed to feel you. Feeling your touch reassures him that he is not an unlovable monster.
Your deep sleep is disturbed by a cool touch on your head and the sensation of lips brushing on your cheek. When you open your eyes, you see Bucky hovering over you, his stubbled face smiling, and his metal hand running through your hair.
"Bucky?" you question sleepily as you rub your eyes, your awoken state making it difficult to tell whether Bucky is real or a hallucination.
"Hi, doll. I’m sorry for being late." He apologizes and leans in close, kissing you on both cheeks, nose, and forehead before softly pulling away with a kiss on your lips.
As you look into each other's eyes, he lightly caresses the softness of your cheek with his cold fingers. You put one hand on Bucky's cheek and the other securely in his dark hair, luring him into a passionate kiss."I thought you left me," you muttered against his lips, a faint whimper escaping your lips. Because he had been missing for so long, you were terrified.
Because Steve had known him for a long time and appeared completely calm and confident in Bucky's safety, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents labeled you an attention seeker when they saw you freaking out about the possibility of Bucky being captured and taken by Hydra again, believing you were overreacting and being dramatic.
It made your blood boil. It didn't matter that Steve had known Bucky for longer than you had; what was meant to be important was that Bucky had been sent on a mission and had not communicated with anyone, despite the fact that he was supposed to return to the base two weeks ago.
Yes, Steve had known Bucky for much longer than you, but you had spent three years in HYDRA together. You built a bond during your stay there. You connected in ways no one could fathom, a bond that kept you both alive while retaining your humanity. 
Bucky, even as the Winter Soldier, never hurt you and made sure no one else touched what was his. Similarly, when they brainwashed you and changed you into the Phoenix, you became assassins who protected one another no matter what happened on the mission.
"I'd never leave you," he says as he presses his lips to yours and kisses you passionately. It wasn't his intention to inform you, but there was a brief moment during his mission when he was afraid he wouldn't see you again.
Flashback: 
This mission had been particularly difficult for him. Everything was going according to plan as he removed Hydra agents from left to right until he felt a searing prick in his neck and everything went black. During that time, the agents bound him to a chair and tortured him in the hopes of eliciting information from him. When he realized the promise he made to you would be broken, he was filled with fear and sorrow. He was convinced he would never see you again. But it wasn't until a hydra doctor appeared, clutching a red book with a black star on the cover, that everything became clear.
Bucky's face lit up with a little grin when he noticed the red book. The Winter Soldier was the deadliest murdering machine ever devised. He would gladly offer him to them if they wanted him. Everything seemed to be going according to plan until the trigger words were said. The Winter Soldier was vehemently opposed to cooperating. The gaze he fired at them horrified them. He was simply there to protect you, and when he learned you weren't there, all hell broke loose. He destroyed the Hydra base in less than five minutes and followed the trail in his mind that led to you. Once the Winter Soldier had gotten the Quinjet in the sky, he relinquished control. 
Present Time: 
When he felt your cold fingers caress his cheekbones, he smiled against your lips and breathed heavily as he pulled away from the kiss. As Bucky drags your body down the bed, you squeal in surprise, and a mischievous gleam appears in his cerulean eyes as he slides his body between your legs.
You're still laughing as he kisses you more, but it fades quickly when his hands squeeze your hips and drag your body lower so he's laying on top of you. His hand on your hip went gently upward, going under his shirt and resting firmly on your lower back. He pushed your body closer to his, groans escaping you both from the sensation of his bulge pressing against your covered core. 
As the kiss intensifies, the friction of his thick erection against your core causes a wet patch on your underwear. You release a gasp when the coldness of his metal hand reaches the heated flesh above your underwear, his lips caressing your neck as he sneaks his hand under your shorts and rubs your clad core.
The ache between your thighs pushes you to clench your thighs around Bucky's hand, and his hungry eyes meeting yours only adds to the heat blazing in your core. When his fingers graze your clit, you groan as your panties are dragged against your throbbing clit, begging to feel his touch and remove the barrier that keeps you from feeling completely satisfied.
As he slips his hand under your pantyhose and brushes his metal fingers against the soft, shaved skin on your mound, you shiver. "Please, I need you," you gasped, tilting your head back as he pressed his lips against yours, moaning as he rubbed your clit with his wet, juice-soaked fingers.
"I got you, baby," he said softly in your ear, gasping as he pushed a finger inside your tight pussy. His palm brushed your clit as he curled his fingers. Bucky lifted his head, his gaze fixed on yours. He watched as your lips opened and your face distorted in delight. "Are you ready for another pretty girl?"
You exhale, feeling his smirk on your neck as he softly pushes another finger inside your tight pussy. "I missed you so much. Please fuck me. I need you." As his palm presses harder against your clit, you sob.
Bucky was hovering over you, breathing heavily, as you reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, drawing him in closer. With slow, open-mouth kisses over your neck, he nipped at your collarbone. "Not yet, no. I need to taste you," he says, slipping his hand out of your shorts and withdrawing his lips away from your neck. He puts his wet fingers in his mouth and groans softly at the taste of you, peering right into your eyes
"You taste so good, baby," he says, adjusting his Henley to rest against your ribcage, leaving sloppy kisses from your underboob to your navel. A pleased feeling spreads throughout your body as Bucky's actions continue downward. 
While you hold his gaze, Bucky's lips slide down to your pussy, tugging your underwear aside as he leaves a gentle kiss on your clit, you gasp your hand reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. 
He kisses your thigh and bites the delicate flesh before hooking his thumbs into your underwear waistband and dragging them down your smooth legs before resting on his knees. "Spread your legs for me, baby." His low, velvety voice sent shivers down your spine, and you sheepishly agreed. 
"Shit, doll. So wet for me." He let out a choked grunt before palming his large erection through his tactical pants, forcing you to whine. When he gripped your thighs strongly, your shaking hands gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes fixed on yours as he swiped a finger over your wet folds, making your breathing increase. 
"Bucky," you moaned as his tongue flattened against your core, his warm tongue gliding across your virgin sex. You let out a loud groan as his tongue slid between your folds and circled the tip of his tongue around your clit.
"Tastes so fuckin' good." Bucky sighs, pulling your lips apart with his thumb and finger. You tugged harder on Bucky's hair as you felt his warm tongue plunge into your cunt, the sensation of Bucky moaning into your cunt had your toes curling. 
Bringing his hand up your body, he grasped your breast, softly twisting your nipple. Your lips parted and your eyelids closed as you felt the coldness of his hand. You buck up into his mouth as he sucks the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips that has you spewing his name out between gasps, your head dropping back onto the pillow. "Bucky." You moan, sensing your approach.
Bucky pulled away just as you were going to cum. His lips had met yours as your hand moved over his suit, unbuckling and unstrapping it. He hurls his vest across the room, leaving him bare-chested. As you smooth over the scarred skin on his shoulder, you press a soft kiss to it and the ones around it, making him tremble above you.
"I want to feel you cum around my cock," he murmured, unbuckling his belt and tossing it on the ground, his pants and boxers landing on top. Your attention shifted from the planes of his strong chest to the trail of dark hair at his navel, which led to his big and erect cock. As you moved your hand down his chest to his cock, you could see beads of pre-cum seeping from his tip. “Doll.” His hips jerked up as you wrapped your hand around his thick cock.
Adding a pleasing pressure as you jerked him off, Bucky's hand removed yours swiping his thumb over the pre-cum seeping from his tip. “You look so hot when you wear my clothes.” He praised, running his thumb over your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth. You complied, sucking his pre-cum off his thumb, Bucky groaned as he felt you moaning around his digit.
"That was so hot, baby." Pulling his thumb out, dragging your bottom lip down, saliva coating it. He intertwined his cold metal hand with yours and placed it next to your head.“I love you,олукa.” He looked you in the eyes and caressed your cheek with his warm palm, causing your eyelids to close for a fraction of a second before opening and gazing into his cobalt eyes.
"I love you, too, Bucky." Your love for him was visible in your eyes, and when he looked into them, all he saw was happiness and love. Bucky hovers over you, lines his tip up to your entrance, then softly and carefully pushes himself into you, inch by inch, until he's completely sheathed. When your tight walls stretched around his thick member, you winced into the kiss as it burned.
His warm hand went under your thigh and grasped it as he thrust his hips forward, kissing your collarbone with his lips. Bucky growled as you tighten your grip on him as he thrust toward you. "Bucky. " You whimpered, your free hand grasping the hair on the back of his neck.
Bucky reached down and rubbed his fingers hard across your sensitive clit. You could feel the tension in your gut loosening as you rested your forehead against his and locked your gaze with his. "I'm gonna cum, Bucky." Bucky drove into you faster and harder, and you moaned, your eyes shutting.
"Come on, baby," he moaned, slamming himself into you at a rapid rate, his metal hand encircling your throat. "Cum on my dick, doll." Bucky's grasp on your throat intensified, causing you to cry out. The cold from his metal fingers around your throat snapped the coil in your stomach, core tightening from the satisfaction of your release.
Bucky reached his own peak as your walls tightened around him. "Fuck, doll," he mumbled into your ear as he released into you. A shiver goes through his body as he continues to thrust into you, working both of you through your high.
"Fuck, baby," he whispers as he pulls his cock out of you.  He reaches down to your delicate cunt with two fingers, seeing his cum drip out, and pushes it back into you. He placed his fingers soaked in his cum and your release into your mouth, and you could feel your legs trembling from your previous climax. 
"As hot as that was, I think we should get cleaned up and get ready for bed." Bucky chuckles as he pulls you to the end of the bed. Bucky enters the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. He opens your legs and begins wiping up the cum dripping between your legs, but you gasp as the wet towel brushes across your sensitive core.
"I'm sorry, baby. Did I go too rough?" Bucky stares at you with sadness in his eyes as he tosses the wet washcloth into the dirty laundry hamper.
“No. You did everything perfectly, just a little sensitive." You wrap your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. Bucky leans towards you, sighing as your fingers run through his hair.
"How about you take a shower while I get dressed and change the bed sheets?" You suggest to Bucky, knowing he had a difficult mission.
“A shower sounds great.” Bucky nods
“Ok. Go take a shower; when you're done, everything will be ready for bed." You kiss his forehead before watching him walk into the bathroom.
You put on a clean pair of underwear, shorts, and one of Bucky's t-shirts before removing the bed sheets and comforter and replacing them with new ones on the bed. Just as you finish placing the comforter on the bed, the bathroom door opens to see Bucky in only his boxers.
Before you both crawl into bed, you exchange an affectionate smile.Bucky sat with his back against the headboard, looking for anything to watch on TV, and you sat next to him, drawing the blanket up to your chin and resting your head on his chest before he laid his arm over your shoulders.
"I thought I'd lost you." you trembled.
"You'll never lose me, baby," he whispered as he glanced at you, but Bucky observed tears pouring down your cheeks as he connected his sight to yours. Bucky moved you to sit on his lap. "Shh, baby. It's okay, I'm here." Bucky cupped his hands around your face, brushing away tears with his thumbs. 
You buried your face in his neck as sobs took over your body, Bucky tightening his arms around you, doing his best to console you. "I was afraid I'd never see you again," you say as you pull him closer.
Bucky drew you away and wiped your tears with his head against yours. "I'm so sorry to have scared you, sweetheart. I discovered an abandoned cabin to stay in, but I couldn't communicate with anyone."He said this as you drew back to assess him for injuries.
"I love you so much, Bucky," Your eyes flood up with emotions as you convey your feelings for him. "I love you, too, baby." leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss on the lips.
"Til the end of the line, doll." He kissed the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. While fiddling with your hair, he kissed your head. You raise your hand up to your mouth, intertwined with his metal one, and kiss his hand softly.
“We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe. But I never understood the importance of touch, until the day I met Bucky Barnes. He saved me. In every way that a person can be saved.”
Translation: голубка - Dove
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genericpuff · 1 month
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Genuinely I would give anything to hear your thoughts or read more critical analysis of yours on other webcomics writing (*slides you Marionetta* I like the webtoon but there are some things in the writing that I'd like to see be discussed critically more often but the fandom focuses way too much on shipping. sighs..)
Anyway, you probably have been asked this before but are there any webtoons in particular you would recommend? :D
Oh lord, you don't know how many times a week I get asks in my inbox asking for my opinions on webtoons they're reading. It's really sweet that people wanna hear me talk about other works outside of LO, but unfortunately I just don't have the time to read as much as I used to, even keeping up on LO lately is getting really difficult 😅 I'm definitely keeping a list though of works to check out!
That said, I try not to read series on the basis of criticizing them because frankly I just... don't want to spend time reading something if people are only looking for me to rag on it? 😆 Of course I know that's not the only reason, I know there's also just the element of seeing me talk extensively about other works the way that I do with LO, but it's not really something I can turn on and off like that, I have to get really into a series to want to talk about it to that extent. So it often comes down to just luck of the draw :'0
Right now the series I'm keeping up the most on (or have completed and would absolutely 100% re-read):
Alfie (18+, it's porn with plot but the plot is REALLY GOOD , I SWEAR LMAO the art is gorgeous, the characterization is IMMACULATE, and it ironically tackles the subject of purity culture way better than LO ever has lol)
Theia Mania (the creator is often in my comment section / neck of the woods, she's been working on an Abduction of Persephone retelling for a long while now and has also tackled other myth retellings in her style! I always love seeing new pages of her work in my feed :' ) <3)
Tales from Alderwood (if you like fantasy and comedy, this one's great, the plot's really starting to get interesting and it's just got this really great sense of humor about it)
The Black Parade (this one's REALLY interesting, it's a comic-stylized version of My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade, using the songs as narration and sometimes even dialogue to tell a visual story, it's really cool and the art matches beautifully with the lyrics and style of MCR!)
A Tale of Two Rulers (this is a Legend of Zelda fancomic that poses the question, "What if Zelda and Ganondorf got married to solve their political crisis?" It updates a lot slower than most of the other comics I follow but the art and writing is so worth it <3)
Dogs of Future Past (and p much all of Lynx's Undertale comics which can be found in the link, seriously, THESE are the comics you wanna read if you wanna get into Undertale fanworks, they are PEAK)
Tamberlane (this one's an anthro comic, I normally don't read anthro but this one actually gripped me by the throat, the art is gorgeous and the character arcs so far have been great!)
The Mafia Nanny (okay it's legit so funny that I'm including this one here but I've been reading it the last couple days after seeing it basically beat out LO at the top of the trending tab for a couple days, so I figured I'd give it a shot, at first I was like "great more tropey shit" but the more I read it the more it's actually started to get pretty good, I'm holding out and hoping to god it stays that way LOL it's not especially deep or anything like that, but it's really fun and cute to read and the shipping of the main character within the narrative isn't too self-absorbed which I can always appreciate, I'd honestly be 100% fine with it if it didn't turn into a romance)
City of Blank (I talk about this one a lot here, but it's one of my favorite Originals right now, the art is super polished and the writing has gotten INTENSE, go check it out if you want some fun action / sci-fi storytelling!)
Time and Time Again (a time-travelling vampire and his werewolf boyfriend get into all kinds of misadventures, what more could you ask for?)
Touch of Divinity (like the Mafia Nanny, this is one I just started reading, it's got a very interesting premise so far and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes!)
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nataliawrites · 1 year
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Plus-One // Lewis Hamilton
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You stared at the envelope laying mockingly on the counter in front of you. You couldn’t believe it! Your cheating ex-boyfriend actually had the gall to invite you to his wedding … to the woman he cheated on you with.
Having moved on with your life, you could safely say that you did not miss him at all. That didn’t stop you from still being pissed at the way he disrespected you and the way that the so-called friends you shared blindly sided with him in the aftermath.
He made you feel worthless, placing the blame on you for being too plain and too frigid. And you actually believed him for a while. Until you met the man who spent every day since he first laid eyes on you proving just how priceless you really are.
Technically, it’s more accurate to say that your Cocker Spaniel met Roscoe while both dogs were being taken for a walk and it was love at first sight for them. Laughing at how your dogs hit it off, Roscoe’s owner introduced himself and invited you to join them for lunch at a local dog-friendly vegan cafe.
That’s how, two years later, you found yourself traveling the world with two dogs and one Sir Lewis Hamilton. The F1 season meant that you spent a good portion of the year away from home and so it was only during summer shutdown that you finally had time to go back to the Monaco condo that you shared with your boyfriend and look through the giant pile of accumulated mail. Hidden in the middle of the mess of letters was an unassuming envelope postmarked from your parents a few months ago. Opening it revealed the envelope you were currently staring at.
The wedding invitation was originally sent to your parents’ house three months ago (which made sense as your ex-boyfriend had no way of knowing where you currently lived). You were willing to bet that he had no idea just how far you’d come since you found him in bed with another woman and unless he was a frequent subscriber to F1 WAG update pages, he likely had no idea who you were dating. Evidently, he invited you to his wedding just to rub it in your face.
Lewis walked into the kitchen to find you sitting at the island trying to burn the invitation with your mind, “What’s wrong, love?”
“Remember when I told you about my douche of an ex?”
“The idiot who cheated on you?”
“Yes,” you raged at his audacity. “Apparently he invited me to his wedding to the same woman he was cheating with.”
“Okay,” Lewis took the invitation from you and read it over, ever the rational one when off the grid. “Here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to RSVP and check off that you’re bringing a plus-one with you.”
“But-“
“No buts. It will be after the end of the season. We’re going to pull up and show him just how much better off you are without him. We’re going to make him regret ever hurting you like that.”
You stood up and kissed him in thanks, “I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.”
His eyes raked over your form, even exhausted after a long plane ride back to Monaco, he still made you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth, “You’ve already upstaged the bride and you’re not even trying.”
Fast-forward to a week before Christmas, one month after Lewis won his eighth world championship title, and you were making the finishing touches to your makeup in a hotel suite near the wedding venue.
“Lew,” you called over your shoulder, “can you please come help me zip up my dress?”
He came up behind you and ran his hands over your back, pulling up your zipper and sending chills throughout your body.
“Gorgeous,” he kissed behind your ear. “Exquisite,” he turned you around and kiss along your jawline.
You met his lips, “I love you. Thank you for everything.”
“And I love you. Every man at the wedding is going to be jealous that I get to have you on my arm tonight.”
The wedding was an experience from the moment you pulled up to the valet and the teenager who ran up to collect your car caught sight of Lewis. He drove to park your Mercedes with shaking hands and a fresh Lewis Hamilton autograph across his company branded cap.
It was a little bizarre when most of the guests were more focused on your boyfriend than the groom at the altar or the bride making her way down the aisle, but the two of you resolved to gracefully sit together, the picture of quiet elegance. Luckily, you sat far enough back at the ceremony to escape your ex-boyfriend’s notice which will make the moment he finally sees you all that much sweeter.
You zoned out while the officiant droned on and on, focusing on Lewis tracing little shapes along your thigh, only snapping back to attention at “you may now kiss the bride.”
The two of you joined the rest of the guests as they filed out of the ceremony space and into the ballroom for the reception, once again the subject of stares as they tried to figure out whether your boyfriend was who they thought he was, and made your way to your assigned table.
You sighed as you realized that you were going to be surrounded by the “friends” who blamed you for the break up and made excuses for why your ex cheated. You whispered as much in Lewis’ ear.
He pulled you closer, “it’ll be fine, love. I’m here with you.”
As the table filled up, it seemed like the rest of the occupants were too preoccupied with your boyfriend to actually realize that he was seated next to you. But you were feeling particularly petty.
“Hello,” you inclined your head with a slight smirk. “It’s nice to you see again.”
They did a double take.
Amy, who you once thought was your best friend, stuttered out a broken, “Y/N?”
“Hi, Amy! How’s it going since you told me that it was understandable that he cheated because I ‘never put out!’”
She didn’t reply, eyes jumping between you and Lewis.
“Oh, this is my boyfriend, Lewis.”
He gave a curt “hello” and raised your entwined hands to his lips.
James, another one of the friends who once betrayed you called out from the other end of the table, “You and LEWIS HAMILTON?”
“Yes, that is my boyfriend’s name last time I checked.”
James continued to run his mouth, “never took you for a gold-digger but I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Lewis interjected before you could even say anything, “Y/N is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. If anyone’s punching above their weight, it’s me. She’s the one who’s out of my league. It’s not her fault the lot of you were too stupid to appreciate her.”
Amy’s boyfriend, who must be new because they weren’t together when you last saw her, tried to ask for an autograph as the table fell into tense silence but Lewis wasn’t having it.
You really loved your boyfriend.
Later that night after the first dance, Lewis went up to the bar to get you some drinks, first making sure that you would be fine alone for a few minutes.
Someone must have it out for you because that’s also when the newlyweds decided to start making their rounds and when your ex finally noticed you.
“Y/N! You actually showed up. Didn’t think you had it in you to watch us get married,” he sneered. “But it looks like your plus-one bailed on you.”
A glass of champagne was placed by your plate before familiar arms wrapped around you from your back, the smell of Lewis’ cologne instantly comforting you. “Her plus one’s right here.”
You could’ve sworn your ex looked less shocked when you walked in on him that faithful day. “But-but you’re Lewis Hamilton?”
You decided to join in on the fun, “really? I had noooo idea.” You turned to face your boyfriend, “why didn’t you tell me that you’re Lewis Hamilton?”
You turned back towards your ex, “and by the way, the next time you have to send me something, you can mail it to our penthouse in New York or our villa in London or our condo in Monaco or our apartment in Nyon.”
You reached for Lewis’ hand as an upbeat song came on, not letting your ex get in a word edgewise, “come on Lew, let’s dance.”
As Lewis led you to the dance floor, you couldn’t help but be thankful for your ex because if he wasn’t such a moron you probably would have never met the love of your life.
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willow-lark · 9 months
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lark's recently-read byler fic recs
thought people could use some uplifting 💕🫶 please remember to hype up your favorite fics and art and other creative work & remember there's always something new to enjoy!! browse the tag or ao3 page & give someone's work a some love!! xoxo
If Time Runs Out by @rainypebble07 (T, ongoing, 14k+) - BYLER PIRATE AU!!! 🏴‍☠️ i literally just discovered this one today and i'm actually obsessed. i have never seen any other pirate aus (🤨) n i just wanna say u guys are missing out on the concept and on this fic bc i'm so invested. i'm so excited to see where this fic goes. royal mike x pirate mike is SO GOOD.
how to get your crush to believe you love him: a guide by mike wheeler by @newlesbianprideflag (T, 3/4, 11k+) - mike goes across the country to visit will at college in an attempt to confess his feelings to him. will, who has a boyfriend already and would like to think himself very over mike, thank you, is not impressed. this one deconstructs a lot of popular/fanon tropes and is really great so far!!
california show your teeth by @fireflywitch (T, 8/19, 63k+) - ok this one mayyybe only has background byler but i'm reccing it anyway bc it's one of my FAVORITE regularly updating fics maybe EVER. in early 1985, chief hopper and his average, normal family move from lenora hills, california to hawkins, indiana--the latter of which has had multiple tragedies over the past few years, to which the new chief's family may or may not be linked. LIKE WHATTTT 👀 go read it RN. masterpiece
All Good Dogs by @hellfiremike (T, 1/1, 3.8k) - this one actually made me cry. featuring: an EXCELLENT character study of will byers, a heartfelt examination of canon and what comes after, and chester the dog getting the attention he deserves and never got in canon 😭
kiss me (try to fix it) by birthofv3nus (T, 1/1, 4k) - will has kissed every member of the party except for mike, who is, understandably, taking this news *SO* well and is not jealous about it at *ALL.* but maybe his situation is not quite as dire as he believes it to be....ugh this one was such a fun read, and you know i loveee party dynamics!!
drank my poison all alone by silverluminoqity (T, 1/1, 4k) - mike is going through it, and, though vecna seems to have been vanquished, maybe he's not so completely gone as everyone thinks.... this is an excellent exploration of both mike's guilt as well as his evolution as a character, and how he views himself. super in-character and super good!!
high tide came and brought you in (and i could go on and on) by silverluminoqity (T, 1/1, 8k) - MOTEL FIC MOTEL FIC MOTEL FIC 🥳 or, mike and will have yet another heart to heart, and some things are revealed. this fic is just so completely heartfelt and UGH i was MELTING the ENTIRE TIME, holy SHIT. probably in my top 3 motel fics EVER tbh.
Chasing Heartlines by @cherryisgone (T, 1/2, 6k+) - i was so excited to read the first chapter of the sequel to maybe one of the best byler fantasy aus ever!! knight mike pining after prince will is something that can actually be so personal to me. i love a good mike-won't-shut-up-about-will fic. the attention to detail in this fic is actually INSANE.
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jrob64 · 2 months
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Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story
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For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.
Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.
This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.
Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.
SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.
RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)
WORDS: 7754
ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN
Story begins under the cut
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Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”
Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.
Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.
After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.
She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.
Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.
The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.
Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.
It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.
Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.
Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.
She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.
‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.
Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.
She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.
🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”
“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.
“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.
“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”
“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.
“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”
Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”
“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”
His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.
🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.
Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”
“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.
“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.
“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.
“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.
“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”
“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”
David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”
“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.
“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”
Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”
David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.
“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”
“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”
Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.
David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”
The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”
“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”
“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.
He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.
“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.
Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.
“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.
Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”
As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.
As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”
“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.
“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.
Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.
“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”
He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”
“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”
David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”
“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.
Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”
Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.
“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”
“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”
“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”
“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.
While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”
Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”
“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”
She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.
“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”
“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”
David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”
“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.
“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”
“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”
“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”
“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”
“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”
“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.
Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”
“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”
Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”
“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.
Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.
Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.
“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.
Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.
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Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.
Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.
  Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.
Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.
David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.
“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”
“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.
“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.
Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”
“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.
“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”
Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”
“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”
Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”
After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.
She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”
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The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’
She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.
Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.
When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.
“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”
“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.
A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.
“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”
Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”
She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”
“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”
“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”
“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”
“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.
“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.
Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.
She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.
“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.
The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.
“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”
“But Mommmm…” he whined.
Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”
“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.
“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”
“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”
Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”
Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”
David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.
“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.
“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”
“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.
“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”
“None of them will be as good as Norman.”
Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”
Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.
“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.
“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.
“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.
Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”
“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”
“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.
“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.
All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.
Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”
“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”
“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”
As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”
Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”
Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.
Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”
“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”
“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”
“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”
Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”
Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”
Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”
“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.
“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”
“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”
“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.
“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.
“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”
As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”
Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.
After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”
“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.
“How long have you known him?”
“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.
Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”
It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.
“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”
“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.
“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”
Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”
She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.
“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”
“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.
Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”
Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”
“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”
“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”
“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”
“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”
“Ouch,” Emma commented.
“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”
“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.
“Deal.”
“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”
“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”
“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”
“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”
“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”
“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”
“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”
“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.
“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.
“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”
Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.
“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”
“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.
“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.
Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.
“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.
“He has his moments.”
They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.
The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.
Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”
“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.
“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”
“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”
“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”
“Aye, if I decide to stay.”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”
“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”
“Ernie?” Killian questioned.
“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”
“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”
“They seem to really like each other.”
“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”
“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.
Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”
“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”
They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.
While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.
“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.
“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”
After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.
“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”
“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”
They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.
He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”
“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”
“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”
A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”
The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.
The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.
Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”
“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”
“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.
Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”
“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”
Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.
Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.
“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.
“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”
She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.
Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”
Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”
Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”
Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”
Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”
“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”
“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”
Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”
“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”
Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”
Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”
She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.
When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.
Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.
Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.
Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.
Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.
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earthtoharlow · 1 year
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Sunday Kind of Love
Urban Wyatt x SingleMom!Reader
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AN: hey hey hey! :) i started writing a new fic and here it is! I have about 5 chapters written already! I’ll propbably update every other week but I hope you guys enjoy! Please feel free to give me feedback !
The weekend was slowly coming to an end and Y/N has made it a tradition to treat Brooklyn to some ice cream every Sunday. Holding Brooklyn’s hand as they took the short walk to their favorite ice cream shop. Y/N loved her baby girl, but boy did she love to talk.
“Mommy, do you think we could get a dog?” Brooklyn suddenly asked. Y/N looked down and saw Brooklyn looking up at her with her big brown eyes. “Well I don’t know sweetie, you know taking care of a dog is a big responsibility. They take a lot of work. I’m not even sure if our apartment allows dogs.”
Brooklyn gasped eyes wide. “Not allow dogs?! Momma that’s just ridiculous! Dogs are the bestest in the whole wide world!!” Y/N had to stop herself from laughing at the serious look on her daughter's face before replying “I know Lyn, that is ridiculous huh? I’ll look into it okay, but no promises. Like I said dogs are a big responsibility.”
Brooklyn started squealing so loud Y/N was so sure she scared away some birds. “OH mom I can’t wait! If we get a dog I’m gonna name it asparagus.” Y/N snapped her head not sure if she heard her correctly.
Asparagus?” Y/N questioned. Brooklyn nodded her head excitedly. “YUP! Asparagus, that’s my favorite vegetable AND I talked it over with Bear last night and he agreed that it’s the perfect name!! Bear always has the best ideas.” She said with a big smile as she skipped next to her mother. Bear was Brooklyn’s favorite stuffed sloth, who she ironically named Bear.
Y/N couldn’t hold her laughter any longer. “Bear is right, that is a perfect name.” She said while giggling before taking Brooklyn’s hand as they walked into the quiet ice cream shop. Luckily there were only a couple of people in there and they could find a seat next to the shop's big windows.
Guiding her to their favorite spot, she pulled out Brooklyn’s coloring book and crayons. “Ok sweetheart, I’ll be right back, I’m going to get our ice cream. Don’t move.” Brooklyn nodded her head, not bothering to look up as she had already started coloring.
After a few minutes, Brooklyn turned and looked around. She loved coming here to get ice cream on Sundays. As she looked around she noticed a man with long hair sitting at the table next to her holding a camera. She noticed he looked kinda upset. Brooklyn knew that when she was upset she loved coloring in her book.
Checking to see if her mom was watching her, Brooklyn quickly ripped a page out her coloring book and grabbed a couple crayons before sliding out the booth. Putting on her best and biggest smile she walked over to the sad man.
Urban cursed under his breath when he realized his film camera was indeed broken. It was his favorite camera to travel with, and he knew it would take weeks for a shop to fix it. Just as he was about to leave his spot by the window he heard tiny footsteps walking towards him.
He looked over and saw a little girl who couldn’t be older than five. She seemed so small, but she had the biggest smile on her face. She wore a sun dress, and her hair was in a puffball with a headband to match. Urban’s heart melted a little. The little girl was holding crayons and a coloring page. Before he could say anything she spoke.
“Hello mister, my mama said not to talk to strangers but I saw you looking sad so I thought I would bring you one of my favorite coloring pages and some crayons! Coloring always makes me feel better!” She said rather quickly before pushing it toward him and skipped back to her table across from him.
Urban let out a small chuckle, he was shocked that this little girl managed to say all that in one breath. Looking down he noticed it was a drawing of some random Disney princess he couldn’t remember the name of. When he looked over at the little girl she gave him a wide smile before putting a finger to lips to tell him not to say anything.
Before he knew it, Urban put a finger to his lips promising not to tell anyone.
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Y/N walked back to the table and sighed as she saw Brooklyn run back to their seat. When she made it back to the table she placed Brooklyn’s ice cream in front of her. Brooklyn’s eyes grew wide as she licked her lips and grabbed her spoon to dig into her delicious treat. Before she could, Y/N stopped her.
“Hey missy, what did I say about leaving your seat and talking to strangers?” Y/N asked sternly. Brooklyn dropped her spoon and looked down quickly. She looked up at her mom and said “I’m sorry momma, he just looked so sad and I wanted to help him feel better.” Y/N could see tears threatening to fall from her daughter's face. She silently cussed to herself, she could never handle seeing Brooklyn upset.
Y/N face softened before saying “I know your heart was in the right place, but next time wait until i come back. Understand?” Brooklyn nodded her head. “I promise to never do it again!” She held her pinky up to Y/N. Y/N smiled before kissing their pinky’s joined together.
After taking Brooklyn to the bathroom to clean up her face, the girls made their way out the shop to make their way back home. Lost in her thoughts, Y/N looked up, startled to see a large white hand, from a very attractive man holding the door for her.
“Wow, um thank you.” She said with a nervous giggle and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N felt tiny standing next to the man.
“No problem, I’m happy i caught up with you guys actually.” He said with a small smile before handing her some crayons she recognized as Brooklyn’s. Y/N looked up at him confused for a second before she looked over and saw Brooklyn waving shyly at the tall man.
“Oh! I’m so sorry about that, I told her about talking to people she doesn’t know. Sorry if she bothered you in any kind of way.” She said as they walked to the sidewalk
“Don’t apologize, she didn’t bother me at all. She actually helped me. Believe it or not coloring helped me get my mind off my now broken camera. The man said with a slight chuckle and wave of his camera
“Well, I’m glad this little monster could help.” giving Brooklyn a smile. “I’m Y/N by the way, and this is--” before she could finish her daughter started to speak “I’m Brooklyn Rose!” holding out her hand. All Y/N could do was shake her head.
“My name is Urban.” He said before bending down slightly to shake Brooklyn’s hand.
Smiling ear to ear she replied sweetly “Nice to meet you Urban! Can I see the color page?” Oh I don’t know, It’s probably not as good as what yours looks like.” Urban says
“That’s ok, I still wanna see it. I won’t— won’t— mama what’s the word I’m looking for?” Brooklyn looks up at her mom and taps her chin as she thinks. “I think the word you’re looking for is judge?” Y/N replies.
“Oh yeah judge! I promise not to judge your coloring, Mr. Urban.” She says holding out her hand as she waits for him to hand over the drawing.
“You promise not to laugh?” Urban asks bashfully before pulling out the drawing from his back pocket and handing Brooklyn the drawing
Brooklyn promises as she and Y/N check out his coloring. Y/N looks down at the drawing and it’s surprisingly not bad, if you ignore that fact he colored the princesses hair and dresses the wrong color. But of course, Brooklyn who’s basically a walking Encyclopedia on all things Disney couldn’t ignore it.
“Mr. Urban! Why does Elsa have black hair! That’s not right at ALL?” Brooklyn questioned with wide eyes and a small pout Urban looks down at the drawing “Well, too be fair I didn’t have a yellow or white crayon to color her correctly, and I’ve never seen frozen so I wasn’t sure about her dress. Brooklyn gasps loudly, but before she could on a mini rant Y/N stops her.
“WELL, I think this is our que to go, say goodbye to the nice man, Brooklyn.” Y/N says. Brooklyn sighs and reluctantly says bye to Urban
“It was nice meeting you, and you owe me for just saving you from an hour long discussion on Disney.” Y/N jokes. It shocks Y/N to an extent how she just easily joked with a stranger. A very handsome stranger, with beautiful blue eyes. Y/N stops herself from thinking about him like that. She doesn’t even know him and she’s nowhere near ready to date anyone. Probably never will be ready.
Luckily Urban was okay with the thought of owing the beautiful woman. “Yeah I guess I do huh? Well I’ll tell you what, I’m going out of town for a few weeks but next time we run into each other I’ll treat you guys to some ice cream. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like a plan, again it was really nice meeting you. But we should get going.” Y/N says trying to hold on her smile, grabs Brooklyn’s hand and starts to turn and walk away.
“See you soon,” urban says with a smirk
As Y/N was listening to her daughter's babbles on the walk home she couldn’t help but think about the man with the nice blue eyes and long hair.
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groenendaze · 22 days
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Do you have any tips for getting into dog sports? I've got an 8-month-old dalmatian/gsd/pit mix (my absolute best friend and also the bane of my existence, teenagers are a menace lol) who's crazy smart and athletic. The stuff you do with your pups looks awesome and I think we'd both really enjoy it! I'm just not sure where to start to look for clubs/events/etc. Any advice is appreciated!
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Dog sports are one of those things where you either just happen to accidentally fall into it or you fight tooth and nail to find a place.
Some of the best ways to find places are to reach out to trainers/competitors in your area or close to you (FB and instagram are the easiest for this imo - if you have found any!). The rest depends on the sports you want to do and where you're located. A good way to try and find more sports would be to see if there are any in your area: google your city + "dog training club" or the sport you're looking for. See if any places offer classes (classes are a GREAT way to get started and test the waters!). Or look for events in your area and go watch! I wouldn't recommend trying to volunteer my first time watching an event, but it's a great place to get started and look for people who might know more people in your area that could help you. Most people are nice and like helping newbies out, but there are always some bad eggs in the pot!
Unfortuently, I'm not super great at finding non-American events, so I apologize if you aren't in the US! But if you are, there are a couple websites that you can check out. For AKC sanctioned events (FastCAT/AKC agility/Rally-O/Confo/etc), AKC has an event calendar.
For things like disc, you can check out UpDog's event page, Skyhoundz event page, USDDN (international), UFO (international), Quadruped, or AWI.
Agility has a couple besides AKC: UKI, CPE, NADAC, and USDAA.
Dock has a few with the main one being NADD and Ultimate Air Dogs.
For flyball, UFLI has a tournament list page. NAFA also does tournaments but I only do UFLI and NAFA's website looks like hasn't been updated since, like, the 90s.
There are other sports, like bitesports (PSA/IGP/Mondio/French Ring) or racing (AOK9, etc) but I know nothing about the racing world and bitesports are one of those sports (much like Flyball tbh) where you'd need to reach out to a club first because a club will make or break a dog.
I got into agility back in like, 2019 or something because I took classes from a local facility and went to some AKC events and asked around. I got into PSA because I googled "bitesports [city]" and found the closest club was an hour a half, so I emailed them. And then made that drive every weekend for 10 or so months haha (I put so many miles on my car). Moved to Wisconsin and reached out to a disc club local to me asking for a private lesson in disc on Facebook, ended up accidentally getting invited to play Toss & Fetch and my disc obsession spiraled from there. Ended up getting into flyball because I made friends with a lot of flyball people at disc. Everything else I've tried (like barn hunt/herding/etc) was a combination of looking on the AKC event page and going "I can do that", a friend going "you can do this, come to X event", or me frantically googling locations or sports or classes or private lessons.
When I first started out, I struggled a LOT. In Texas, there were quite a few places and clubs around me, but I only had about three months of that before I moved to Arkansas, which was a dog sport dead zone. I didn't have the connections or knowledge to even know where to look to get access to those places. It took me months to find the one single place where I could rent an agility field. I spent most of my time throwing a frisbee in a park not even knowing that disc was a dog sport I could compete in. Luckily, where I am now is pretty dominated by the sports I love and I've made a lot of really amazing connections which helps with knowing the who's/what's/how's of everything!
Good luck and I hope this helps!
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alteon77 · 1 year
Text
Updated Masterlist of Writing and Art
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About the writer/artist: I like to write and paint. My current obsession is Sandman, but I enjoy most fantasy fandoms as well as anime (I think I’m on season seven billion of One Piece right now 🤣). I'm also weird as they come (and awkward, too), so just please ignore my oddball (coughTERRIBLEcough) sense of humor.
On a more personal note, I have PTSD and suffer from severe manic depressive episodes. Writing and art are my most familiar coping mechanisms, and I need them like I need oxygen. Seriously, there were times in my life that knowing I had to finish a story or a piece of art was the only thing stopping me from ending up dead. So, I don't take part in fandom drama. Having my peace and protecting my mental health are very big deals to me, and I won't risk those for anything if I can help it.
As for my writing, it ranges from short one-shots to ridiculously long novel series. I use third person POV (on longer series) as well as second person (on shorter things). I also try to always exclude physical descriptions when writing main character OCs and assign them nicknames to avoid using Y/N. I love to read Y/N fics, but writing them makes me feel like I'm at work. And who actually wants to ever feel like they're at work when they're engaging in a hobby? Definitely not me.
Lastly, there's usually more stuff on my AO3 page than I have listed here, because I forget to post it pretty often. Oops. I'll get around to moving it all over one day. Probably. Maybe.
Feel free to leave an ask if you want or just drop by my DMs. <3
Artwork links are at the bottom of this list, so if you're here for those, that's where they are.
Sandman 'Verse
All the Precious and Fragile Things (so easily do they break)
After banishing his lover from the Dreaming for her betrayal, Morpheus learns that she is pregnant with his child.
And that she’s been captured by a revenge-seeking Alexander Burgess.
What the both of them are unaware of is that this will set in motion a cascade of unfavorable events, causing a chain reaction that threatens the whole of existence itself.
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PART I: All of This Past
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
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PART II: These Tender, Loving Mercies
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
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PART III: When It All Falls Down
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
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PART IV: The Dark of War
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
Sometimes He's Sweet
Morpheus hates the holidays.
As excited as she seems to experience the mortal holiday, he's… less so. Much less so. With the entire collective unconscious contained within him, this time of year can be wholly overwhelming, a miasma of too much red and green, too much worry, too much loneliness, too much excitement, too many similarly themed dreams, too many similarly themed nightmares, and far far too many holiday songs. It all bleeds out from the collective unconscious into his own mind, sticks there like weeping sap to a tree until he feels half-mad with the unrelenting presence of it, with his inability to get free from its cloying trespass upon his very being.
This is just a little sweet fluff for the holiday season. It takes place between chapters 19 and 20 of "All the Precious and Fragile Things". No spoilers here if you've read that far!
The Dog Debacle (or how best to sneak a dragon into the dreaming)
Morpheus' daughter gets a new dog.
Well..... kind of.
That Familiar Feeling of Family (or how Hob Gadling ended up as an uncle to his stranger's oftentimes feral children)
It's a pretty universally known thing that families are just strange. As Hob is quickly figuring out, however, this little fact is magnified by AT LEAST a billion when the family in question is Endless.
(A lighthearted story in which Hob Gadling finds out his stranger has married, makes friends with a homicidal maniac/ruler, and manages to become an exemplary uncle to a pack of magically mischievous children. Really, now all he has to do is convince everyone to stop calling his and Dream's weekly meetups "playdates", and then his life would be practically perfect.)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The Maker, the Muse, and the Sundered Song
In his temple, what remains of Orpheus waits in trepidation. Something is changing. Something that he knows might alter the very fabric of the world as he understands it.
Finally freed from captivity, Calliope struggles to make any meaningful changes to the laws that saw her bound and taken in the first place. When the strange woman appears on Mount Parnassus and offers help, Calliope knows she would be a fool not to accept it. Even if she thinks that she's being lied to.
Meanwhile in the peace of the Dreaming, Morpheus grapples with guilt over his son's fate. As he basks in the love of his new children, he can't help but to regret his own failings where Orpheus is concerned.
And as for May, she's really just got a job to do. And her own traumatic issues to deal with. And if it's all hella awkward because she's having to work alongside her husband's ex-wife, she'll see it done anyway. There's even the small possibility that she might eventually admit to Calliope the truth about her identity. That is if she can ever actually work up the courage to say it aloud.
Chapter 1
Nothing in This Closet but Boots and a Boy
Morpheus is wildly protective of his daughter.
That's probably bad for the boy in said daughter's closet.
AU's and Other Stuff in the Sandman 'Verse
Of Exes, Hellhounds, and Waffle Fries
Morpheus shows up to rescue the woman he probably loves (though he won't admit it) from hellhounds and ends up getting roped into helping with her family. This is one of those extras that doesn't fit into the main story, but it's fun, so I'm posting it.
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The Bizarre Breeding Habits of Anthropomorphic Personifications
It's a tale as old as time.
Two idiots fall in love. Two idiots fall out of love.
Neither one of them is expecting a baby to come along and derail their unhappily ever after.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Original Fanart
I like to play around with different styles and to try new things with my artwork. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. I'm still learning, and I am so far from being a professional that it's laughable. But I only post things that I think look decent or that I think others might enjoy.
The Lover's Argument (Morpheus x oc)
Oneiros (Morpheus in Grecian garb)
Because I could not stop for Death, she kindly stopped for me... (Regency era Dream and Death)
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sharkfinn · 4 months
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Hey, you said that you came up with the Little Brother au before you started Tumblr, right?
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So, since I haven't been following you for that long, or at least, I think so, what was your inspiration for making this au? When did you exactly come up with the idea? Do you have any original title names?
Also, a silly question: What are all the fandoms you are currently in? Just in case your pinned post is outdated :]
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oh man. hmm
i got into tmnt 4th april 2021, because i wanted to rewatch 2012, only remembered some of it from when i was little, then deciding yup i want to look at everything tmnt. then i got hyperfixated
he started out as a really ambiguous any iteration oc, around the time i was reading the northampton arc of idw, (late juneish 2021?) was when i first drew him, all it was was just hehe silly green masked ninja turtle in sophie campbells idw artstyle
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(i love sophie campbells art its so good)
then i drew him in the 2012 series, and he became more of his own character. in my old idea for 2012 he was significantly moody and overconfident, had his own abandoned area in the subway tunnels for spraypainting, was good buddies with raph but really didnt like leo at all. also had a scar on his shell, for some reason?? i wont say why but he can super easily be slapped into another iteration and i love that
it was only when i watched rise and tried to imagine him in their universe too that i went hold on- we got a whole potential story here. little brother was a placeholder title really, but i couldnt think of anything better soo. little brother.
the vine flesh concept was an absolutely random idea at first that was way too cool to drop.
i did have this whole really cool arc planned where eventually draxum did get tricked into allying with the foot, theyd protect five whod help fight the mad dogs for the kuroi yoroi shards, ("looking for this?") and hed also be able to sabotage the armour in some way.
but. i couldnt have this in because 1. distract way too much from the story i want to tell. 2. having shredder appear in the comic would ask for an entire shredder arc and respectfully no thanks lol.
just imagine five is in s2 trust me hes there hes awesome (oh and you know how in canon, shredder needed to take power from draxum, and it looked like he took the vines power from him? uhuh. and you know how five also has it? but instead its the only thing keeping him stuck together? uhuh. anyways!)
ohh!! cool oc trivia- his weapon was kinda undecided between tonfa (before i watched rise) or two scythes i referenced it in page 20 :D !!
his weapon would still be scythes i think, if he wasnt using the vines as his weapon
and no i try to keep my master post updated all the time, theres HEAPS more stuff i like, just complicated to think what to put on there? for example i looove how to train your dragon, but havent seen much of it past rewatching the 3 movies, thats nothing compared to rewatching all of adventure time 5 times. i dunno!
the way my interests work is that theres a selection of 1-3 that my brain focuses on, but it doesnt make any of the others less or i stopped liking them at all or anything. i have so many interests help me
right NOW im really hyperfixated on danny phantom and tf2!!
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