#uhhh maybe it's just a lot nicer now

[ihatebnha]

During summer you wake up covered in bakugo's sweat 😔

And probably your own, given that he turns the bed into a sauna😭 

He doesn’t even notice, either. Runs so warm naturally that so long as your blankets are thin, he can sleep right through. Some people might be concerned he’d accidentally blow your bed up during the night, but honestly? At least that would put you out of your misery. 

But yeah. You wake up covered in his sweat, basically GLUED to him wherever he holds you. THEN he wakes up too and has the nerve to ask, “What the hell happened to you? You look like you just ran laps.” 

Bakugo. You are what happened. YOU. 

(And he wonders why you always wanna cuddle more in the winter. He’s cold though, so no complaining on his part.)

[fictionfixations]

signature spells and the person

(referencing this list because i cant remember them all)

spoilers for all books. and glorious masquerade

(note that some characters i dont know well at all. which you can kind of tell with me being super unsure. there's this person in the reblogs who elaborated on bits i wasn't quite correct on or didnt have an idea on so go read it!)

signature spells embodying the person sort of? Riddle - collar. restriction. limitations.

Deuce - not taking hits lying down. striking back. (a reckless idiot like that)

Cater - hm.. putting on an act for everyone? people pleaser? so its like. all of those little 'acts' and 'personas' he puts on are sort of 'him' in a sense. but its also not him at the same time. (like how the clones arent actually him because they're just a creation of his magic. but they are him in a way, too right?)

trey - sneaky sneaky guy who notices a lot more than you'd think. presents himself as one way but he's complicated

Leona - sand. like all his hard work turning to sand, or basically nothing.

Jack - wolves work in packs, right? he wants to work in a pack. (even though he says he doesn't). they're strong, but they do better together. ..probably. idk.

Ruggie - treating all people 'equally' (in the sense that he'd mess with them all. unless they were a serious trouble to deal with) also sucks up to people........ (and probably laughing at them behind their back for being such a 'fool' haha get it. because fool's parade..--) maybe? Idk.

Azul - exchanging his old self for an asshole basically (because he must've been a nicer guy as a bby. but then ppl were mean to him and now he's very bitter.)

Jade - acting like the more calmer and reasonable of the twins, even though he can be just like floyd, if a bit more dangerous considering he can get under your skin, get you trust him, that he just wants to 'help you'. and you tell him all your secrets. and then it 'shocks your heart' when he reveals his true colors. (like bruh. his halloween groovification message was literally, "Oooh, I love it when you flee in terror. It makes me want to chase you!")

Floyd - i don't know. uhhh. in his lab coat(?) vignette there's this moment where a guy bumps into him, is like 'hEY WHO DO YOU--' and then realizes its floyd and backs off. basically the guy who intimidates them to make them weaker, ig? terrorizing them. 'binding the heart' in fear. i mean he'll still hurt them ofc, but the point is is that he's the scary one, jade's the 'calm' one, thats his image to people. i dont know him nearly well enough to really get it.

Kalim - wishing for everyone to be happy. to dance and sing and forget about all the troubles. throwing parties and feasts to cheer them up (and granting them relief when needed). although it doesn't always end well and his attempts can end up 'useless', like how oasis maker is 'useless' when people already have easy access to water. but at other points desperately needed.

Jamil - turning him into the 'master' and the other the 'servant'

Vil - planting 'curses' in plain sight. masking it. disguising it. acting. like putting on makeup to change something. maybe. possibly. (this is weak) maybe a false reassurance. a mask.

Epel - accepting who he is (that he's short and seen as 'cute'. and so using it to his advantage.) like, seeming 'soft and dainty' but actually a guy who can beat someone up. like, 'you'll just go to sleep..' (and then the crimson part of slumber with a negative meaning. the poison apple. something that looks innocent but is actually harmful.) and then you never wake up again because you were TRICKED HAHAHA /hj

Rook - will literally do anything for what his fixations are. in which his fixations are 'beauty', which is a very vague category and include literally everything. also very very creepy and stalker-ish in the process.

Idia - honestly idfk. uh. 'responsibility'. burdens. control. it literally just represents a part of his job? idfk. its such a big part of him (also his family had the same UM so like..) that its just. who he is.

Malleus - there was this quote he said about how 'when you nap, even 500 years could pass without you noticing'. so it could be something like how time moves by so fast like that

guh.. it was "Give in to slumber, and a thousand years will pass in the blink of an eye."

Silver - I don't know him that well... i mean like there's references to him having parallels with like. i think.. aurora?? the girl who maleficent cursed. i think. dreams and wishes. i don't know i havent even seen him use it yet LMFAO (ive only finished part 2 of book 7..) maybe like. things not seeming real..? idk man. a desire to see people, to stay by their side, but can't, so instead it'll be in a dream. so either it isn't real, a mere fantasy, or, shrug. like. yknow the remember me song in coco? it's like 'and everytime you hear a guitar you'll remember and think about me' (i cant remember the exact lyrics)

Sebek - admires malleus. a lot. malleus has control over lightning or something. so sebek in turn becomes that 'lightning' that he can control, as his guard and stuff like that. 'i will be his sword', maybe.

lilia - he reflects a lot about the past imo. overly aware of things and the passing of time. at least in my opinion. how things can pass by so easily. so he takes little bits and pieces to cherish for the rest of his life, and to think back on. a trip back down memory lane, as they say.

Rollo - literally gets set on fire like his brother..?? that thing forever haunting him that its such a big part of him at this point (hating magic and hating what happened.) and him hating himself making himself see him as part of the reason why his brother died, and therefore making him literally the thing that killed him sort of?

[rokuhatake]

New Year's Pt.2 18+

Warnings: 18+ (no minors), inexperienced!reader, tiny bit of jealousy, oral (m&f receiving), pet names, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (please be smarter than Kakashi & reader here), fingering, lil bit of choking, praise, lots of making out lol

A/N: Sorry it's late and kinda short, I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Word Count: 2.7 K

Who knew a first kiss could be so desperate, so full of need? You didn’t quite understand your feelings for Kakashi before, and you’ll admit that the alcohol led you here tonight – or morning, rather- but the way he kisses you has sobered you right up. You were drunk and silly for coming here, not even truly knowing the reason why, but now his hands are gently grasping your neck, and you’re opening yourself up for him. He wants more, and you’ll gladly give it. 

You become pliable for him while he gropes you. It feels like the natural thing to do, to allow him your body, your lips. It’s all his now, and he uses you expertly.  

His tongue is addicted to the taste of you, never once leaving your mouth while his curious hands explore your skin. Goosebumps chase after his fingertips anywhere he touches you, and he’s satisfied with how noisy you’ve become. He wonders...how many men have been able to make you feel this way? Jealousy takes the reins in his head, causing his grip to tighten around your throat.  

Much to your displeasure, he stops kissing you; but now you can view him in his full glory. You feel love-drunk, maybe a bit silly as well; you just cannot stop staring. The two of you share something intimate now. You share a secret, one he’s never given to someone else.  

“Did you wear this, hoping I would see it?” he ponders hotly while tugging at your tight dress. You nod with a sexy grin on your face. Impossibly, he thinks he’s fallen harder for you. “Fuck...” he draws out before pulling you back in.  

In a moment, his hands are groping you again, now with more urgency. He wants to peel that annoying dress off of you and worship your skin, adorning it with his love marks. He wants to hear how loud you can really be, and he especially wants to hear you call out his name. That’s the first goal, he thinks, to make you scream for him.  

His attention turns to your neck, particularly the spot that makes you arch into his embrace. Already, a dark mark has bloomed, and you don’t seem to mind; he thinks you might actually love it.  

As he makes his way towards the peak of your breasts, he feels your body stiffen ever so slightly, and he removes himself. “You okay?” His throat feels blocked, but he tries his best to sound soft with you. Your cheeks are warm underneath his fingertips, and he searches your face for emotion. You seem...nervous, and of course that rubs off on him.  

“What’s wrong?” He cups your face with such anxiety, you feel sad for him. “Nothing, nothing, I promise. I just uhhh...I dunno. I didn’t prepare myself for this...” He’s confused. Prepared what? 

“What do you mean?” He speaks softly, still caressing your face in his hands. You feel hot and slightly at a loss for words. That alcohol was not strong enough for this.  

“You know...I would have made myself look nicer if I had known the night would end this way.” He grins at you, modestly amused. You could have shown up in oversized pajamas, his reaction would be the same. The dress is lovely but only because it’s you who’s flaunting it.  

He leans into you, kissing the color from your cheeks. “You always look amazing to me,” he murmurs into your hot skin while leaving wet kisses across your throat. You can’t stay nervous around him, not while he’s complimenting you between kisses.  

“Anytime I see you...” he moves your hand to squeeze his crotch, “...you do this to me.” Your innocent look of surprise makes him stir in your hand. “I really could care less if you’re prepared, I always want you.” His voice is richer than you’ve ever heard, it sends shivers through your muscles.  

As if by instinct, his name drops gracefully from your lips; but before you can say more, he silences your voice with a sloppy kiss. You feel dizzy again.  

He can tell you don’t know what to do; your hand hasn’t made any movements of its own. Your only guide is his hand over yours, rubbing just how he likes it. He’s trying to make sure you’re comfortable, but it’s growing harder for him to maintain his cool composure while your hand grows more curious in its exploration of his body.  

Kakashi resumes his work on your breasts, groaning while he sucks onto the supple skin. Your grip is tight around his cock, and you whisper his name, “Ka-kashi...” It’s a desperate whine, and his body responds immediately.  

He’s too impatient; he’s waited long enough to have you, and now you’re here, in his arms with your hand grasping his cock. Why should he make himself wait any longer?  

Without a word, Kakashi gently nudges you towards the largest couch in his living room, never daring to stop kissing your skin. Once the cool leather touches your thighs, you plop down obediently; but he doesn’t join you.  

Kakashi has an idea...you can see it in that devilishly handsome smile.  

“Will you do something for me?” He requests softly while brushing a few loose strands of hair away from your eyes. You’re curious...you have no desire to deny him, so you nod enthusiastically. That seems to please him, and something within you burns with pride.  

He leans to place a chaste kiss upon your lips, then begins to unbutton his pants. Excitement pools into your panties...he wants to use your mouth. Kami, you think you may overheat.  

Once his boxers are removed, your eyes go wide. Surely, he can’t expect you to fit all of that down your throat. You sneak a glance at his face, only to find him grinning at you while he strokes his cock.  

“What’s the matter?” he cocks his head playfully to the side. “You’ve never sucked on something this big?” He reaches to caress your warm cheek with his free hand, still stroking his cock with the other. You shake your head ‘no’. “I’ve never...I mean-not even...”  

Kakashi’s eye widens. That can’t be possible; if he wasn’t about to fuck your throat, he might be annoyed with the obviously daft men of Konoha.  

“That’s okay, Pretty, let me show you how.” His thumb strokes your cheek while you move to the edge of the cushion. His erection is intimidating, too intimidating; you have to maintain eye contact with Kakashi while he moves himself closer to your mouth.  

“Now, just take the tip into your mouth...and start off slow.” He can hardly get the words out. Preferably, he would just take your throat then and there without mercy, but he won’t have you getting scared on him.  

Instead, he gently guides his cock towards your swollen lips, and you give him one more look before bravely taking him into your mouth, just how he instructed. The hiss he releases scares you, but his fingers tangled in your hair ensures that you can’t remove yourself. You look up to him, wondering if you did something wrong when you see the crimson of his sharingan glaring back at you. You moan around his cock, instinctively taking more of him into your mouth while you hollow your cheeks around the length.  

The idea of going down on a man had always made you nervous. Your sexual experience is already minimal at best, but no one had ever seemed interested in using your mouth. After tonight though? You can’t understand that anxious feeling.  

This is fun for you; it’s like your own secret experiment. You’re exploring what makes Kakashi noisy, and you’ve concluded that he loves the back of your throat. Anytime you push yourself to your limits, to where you’re gagging around his length, his eyes roll while incoherent curses spill from his lips. You want him to stop holding back, you can tell he is.  

Your eyes lock with his while you regress to more gentle sucking, and you whine around him.  

“What is it, Pretty?” He grins down at your messy face. Of course, you have no way to tell him what you want, so you place your hands on his hips, then push them towards you. This time, you gag harder than before, but Kakashi gets the hint.  

“Oh...you want me to use your mouth?” He bites his lower lip, dying to fulfill that fantasy of his. When you nod wildly around his cock, something inside of him snaps.  

Without wasting anytime, Kakashi tightly grips your hair and leads you onto his cock. He hardly gives you time to recover when you gag, he just sends you down the thick length again and again. You can’t help but lock eyes with him while he fucks your throat, and the sight almost makes him cum. He’s not ready for that.  

Suddenly, his cock is no longer in your mouth, and you’re panting while drool spills from your lips.  

“Come with me.” Kakashi’s voice is clipped while he pulls you from the couch and into his arms. He kisses you deeply before leading you to a closed door that you presume is his bedroom.  

Kakashi wastes no time now; as soon as your bottom touches the edge of his bed, he’s kneeling before you, sliding his fingers towards your damp panties.  

This is yet another act you have no experience with. You’re starting to think your prior “experience” is child's-play compared to this.  

“Kakashi...” you whisper. He hums into your hot skin. “I’ve never done this either.” Your words make him stop. Now he really is annoyed. How could someone completely neglect your needs, when all he wants is to devour you? He’s been hungry for you for years, and you gave yourself to men who couldn’t take care of you. He’s livid.  

He doesn’t say a word, only nudges your legs open for him so he can easily slide down your panties. Once he eyes your glistening cunt, his mouth waters. He won’t waste any time on words. He just wants to make you scream; and you do.  

His mouth latches around your sensitive clit and he sucks until you’re arching towards the sky while incoherently chanting his name. Just what he likes to hear... 

He smiles impishly over your folds, then eases a single finger into your dripping hole. You seem overstimulated from the added pressure; you’re shaking furiously, fingers grasping desperately into his silver locks. He tries to look at your face, but your head is thrown back into the mattress. He immediately doesn’t like that.  

“Look at me,” he demands. It takes you several seconds before you can obey him, but when you do, the image almost makes you cum. His sharingan is still glaring at you, and he looks gorgeous with his mouth on your cunt. Now, you can’t look away.  

“K-Kaskashi!” You pant. “I’m so close...” Your voice is barely audible, and he can see your eyes begin to close. For the first time, he slaps your thigh. “Don’t look away from me, Pretty, or I’ll stop.” His threat makes you whine, but of course, you obey.  

He pushes deep into you, deeper than before, and continues to suck on your clit. The stimulation is too much, and within seconds, you’re orgasming around his finger while calling out his name.  

He creeps up your body, slowly peeling the dress with him while he softly shushes you. Once your hips are bare to him, he leaves a trail of wet kisses on your skin, leisurely working his way towards your breasts.  

You lift your arms to allow the dress over your body, and he admires your choice to forgo a bra; it allows him to suck them into his mouth once they’re revealed to him.  

He thinks he’ll play with you for a bit, maybe allow you to gather yourself before he continues his rough fucking.  

You notice suddenly, Kakashi is still wearing clothes; you’re completely naked. A frown forms on your lips. “Why aren’t you naked?” You whine softly. The vibration of his laugh on your skin tickles.  

“How thoughtless of me,” he leans to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Let me fix that for you.” With a grin, he sits up straight and effortlessly removes this navy long sleeve. Though you’ve already had his cock down your throat this morning, you can’t stop the blush that warms your cheeks. He’s too sexy, in all of his naked, muscular glory. You don’t fail to notice the scars marring his otherwise perfect skin; and you silently promise to give them your full attention later.  

The way you blush for him pokes and prods at his impatience, he can’t keep waiting.  

“Can I have you, Pretty?” His hardened length slides along your folds while he nips at the sensitive skin of your neck. You don’t fully understand his question, so you give a safe answer, “You can have all of me, Kakashi.”  

He groans before nudging into you without warning; your words are wearing down his resolve.  

Even if he wanted to, you’re too tight for him to sheath his length in your cunt. He has to work just the tip in, over and over; he thinks you might cry from the teasing. Already, you’re begging him to fill you up.  

“Please Kakashi...” you pant for him. “Please stop teasing.” Your plea is weak, it’s not enough to satisfy his perverted desires.  

He continues to tease, even when he knows you’re aroused enough to take his cock. Until you beg properly, he won’t fuck you properly.  

“Tell me what you want, use your words,” he commands softly. You whine at first, but you’re not able to deny him.  

“I wanna feel you deeper...” He continues his torturous pace, still not satisfied. “Need to feel you deeper Kakashi! I’ve wanted you for so long, please don’t make me wait anymore.” Tears are hiding in the corners of your eyes while you desperately try to move your hips against his grip.  

Luckily for you, he’s finally satisfied. Actually, more than satisfied; he’s fucking elated. You’ve finally confessed to him, told him everything he needs to hear. He doesn’t waste a second before bottoming out inside of you.  

Pain shoots through his back from your tight grip, but he doesn’t let it stop him for a moment. He’s relentlessly pounding into you while he watches your face contort with pleasure. You’ve probably never had it this good, he thinks. He promises to change that forever.  

While grasping your face in his hands, he makes you lock eyes with him. “Tell me how long you’ve been waiting for this...tell me how badly you’ve wanted me.” He knows speaking will be difficult for you, he just wants to play with you some more.  

“I - Ah! Kakashi...I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted you for so long.” He bottoms out inside of you, pushing as deep as he can. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve straddled my pillow, wishing it was you instead.” Impossibly, he quickens his pace, hastened by your confessions. “You’re the only person who’s made me cum without even being there.”  

It’s too much for him; while trying to overstimulate you, he’s overdone himself. He’s closer than he wants to be, and he's about to pull out before you lock your legs around his hips. “Please don’t stop,” you beg hotly. “I’m so close, ah! Please ‘Kashi.” Your babbling drives him crazy, and he’s too lost in desire to worry about not wearing a condom. If he was totally honest with himself, the thought only drives him wilder.  

Your orgasm shocks you, the intensity of it almost mind-numbing as Kakashi finishes inside of you. This sensation is addictive, you think.  

He doesn’t pull out, nor does he stop rocking into you. He’s surprised even himself; no one has ever kept his dick this hard. Like a man obsessed, he buries his face in your breasts, sucking roughly on the skin there.  

“I can’t get enough of you...” he confesses to your skin. “You’ve made me wait too long... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” He grins devilishly at you. “Do you want me to stop?” He rocks deep inside of you, pulling a gasp from your lips.  

“Please...” you beg hotly. “Please, don't stop.” He throws his head back before pounding into you once again, fully intending to head your desire.  

He no longer feels guilt for missing your party; having his way with you, even after the sun comes up, is more than worth it.  

[jacksdinonuggets]

~ T r a u m a ~

Summary:Lucifer is trying to spend some time to get to know Vaggie but she ends up in littlespace so Lucifer takes care of her.

It was rough keeping a big secret from Charlie. Even though she accepted her now and they were on good terms, things were still very stressful. Her wings contributed to that factor as well. They reminded her of what she did before Charlie found her and it gave her a lot of guilt. A few panic attacks later, she decided to talk about it to Charlie one day, hoping that she’ll feel better.

“Maybe you should talk to someone about this,” Charlie suggested, “I’m not exactly qualified and there aren’t many therapists in hell, but maybe you could talk to my dad,”

“Why Lucifer?” Vaggie asked, a little bit nervous. She didn’t exactly want to talk about all this heavy shit to her girlfriend’s dad. What if she makes herself look bad and he’s unaccepting of them? He did know she was an exorcist but never knew why she fell in the first place. It was too heavy to talk about in their little time together.

“Well, he’s also a fallen angel, he might understand how it feels,” The princess prompted.

Vaggie bit her lip, wondering what she should do. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, she sighed and agreed.

A day or two later, Vaggie stands in front of Lucifer’s room. It was just one of the nicer hotel rooms, so it wasn’t supposed to be as intimidating. But it was. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Mr Morningstar?” She called out, slowly opening the door and entering. He had one of the suites so she assumed he was just in one of the bedrooms.

“Ah, Maggie! Good to see you!” He popped up to her side and gave her a hug. She flinched, but then relaxed.

“It’s Vaggie, Sir,” She calmly corrected him.

“Vaggie, got it. Anyways, what brings you to my humble abode,” He asked, leading her to the kitchen area where he poured himself a glass of water.

“I- uhhh, I was hoping to talk to you about something,” She nervously looked around the room, trying to avoid eye contact. She really didn’t want to make this more awkward and terrifying than it already was.

“Oh, alright, let's sit then,” he walked over to the couch and gestured a hand to the one in front of it so they sat facing towards each other.

“So, I- Uh, Charlie wanted me to talk to you about some struggles I’ve been having that have to do with being a fallen angel,” she began, “I don’t even know how to start,” 

She thought about it for a second and took a deep breath.

“What do you do when… you feel so ashamed for being an angel that you think it would be better if you were gone?”

“That’s a tough question. Mind telling me why you feel ashamed first?” he asked. He would probably have to tell Charlie about these thoughts. It definitely wasn’t healthy.

Vaggie’s memories and reasons why she was guilty flashed in her head. The people she’s killed. The souls lost. It's all her fault. 

“I- I- I-,” She stuttered.

“Hey, it’s okay, take a deep breath,” he instructed. After she took a couple, she felt a bit calmer.

“I was an exorcist for years. I killed so many and hurt many more. I lied to Charlie, I lied to my friends, I even lied to myself. I kept saying that it was okay but it wasn’t! Nothing is okay! I’m not fucking okay! I’m a murderer.…” she confessed. He sucked in a breath but she wasn’t done.

“I wasn’t even punished! I- I deserve to feel hurt and pain. I deserve agony but no one will give it to me. My stupid wings are a constant reminder of the monster I am,” She began to stumble on her words as her lip began to quiver. She’s held so much in that she was an absolute mess now that she was talking about it. It made her headspace immediately fall like a bag of sand being thrown off a cliff. 

Before she knew it, she started crying, sobbing even. Lucifer got really worried and moved to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her shaking body. She was very much ugly crying. The hiccuping, hyperventilating kind too. Why was he giving her comfort. He should be upset with her.

“Vaggie, you don’t deserve any pain. You’ve changed. You’re not deserving of a punishment anymore. You deserve comfort and help,” He told her in a calm, gentle voice. It was quite nurturing too.

Being a caregiver, he could notice easily when a headspace dropped and he could tell hers went deep down fast. He gently pulled her into his lap and began to rock her, trying to calm the baby down.

“Shh, shhh, you’re okay, we all forgive you, shh, shhh,” He spoke soothingly into her ear. 

He made a rubber duck appear and held it in front of her.

“Look! It’s a ducky!” he sqeaked it, trying to get her attention. She looked up at it, still crying but not as many hiccups. Lucifer moved it around and made little quacking noises to entertain her. It seemed to help.

He gave the ducky to her once she stopped crying. She immediately tried to put it in her mouth.

“Ah, ah, ah, you don’t know where that’s been,” he took it out of her mouth and made a pacifier appear in her mouth. She sucked on while playing the rubber duck.

He lifted her up and placed her on the second couch. He snapped his fingers and her clothing changed. She was now in a thick diaper and onesie. Lucifer had babysat enough times to know what clothing helped her feel safe. 

He brought her over to the bedroom and laid her down in bed before he took off his shoes and climbed in too. She seemed very clingy so he definitely would need to cuddle with her.

She snuggled up close to him as he massaged her scalp. He felt bad that she had to deal with all of this guilt. It was upsetting to say the least. Even though they weren’t very close, he still cared and worried about her.

He felt content once he heard soft snoring coming from the girl. It was a peaceful sight, knowing that she was no longer fighting her inner demons. He slipped out of the bed without waking her up and went back into the small living room area.

He brainstormed what kind of toys Vaggie would like. He wanted to make sure she had something to do when she woke up. After summoning a couple of blocks, a shape sorting game, and setting up a cute purple tent and filled it with a bunch of pillows and blankets, he sat on the couch and scrolled on his hellphone. He contemplated calling Charlie but he didn’t want her to think he wasn’t good enough to take care of Vaggie.

He sat there for a while until a scream erupted from the bedroom. He shot up and scrambled towards the sound. He followed it and opened the door. The sight he was greeted with was sad to say the least. The poor girl was shot up in bed, bawling while clutching the blankets. He could easily see sweat beads rolling down her forehead too. Using context clues, he realized that she must’ve had a nightmare.

“Sweetie,” he sat down next to her on the bed. He rubbed her back and kissed her forehead, waiting patiently for her to calm down. He wiped away her tears and held a tissue to her nose, which she blew into, clearing her sinuses. She cried for a minute or two until she was feeling a bit better.

Lucifer summoned a bottle filled with cold water and pulled her into his lap. A diaper change was in order afterwards but for now, he fed her the water, knowing that it would help. Once she finished it, she mumbled a “t’ank you,” 

“You’re welcome, Little ducky. Do you want to talk about your bad dream?” Lucifer asked. 

“Dun wanna think about it,” She told him. “Scary,” 

“It’s okay, baby, you don’t need to talk about it. I have a small surprise for you but do you need any help getting your diapy changed?” He asked. She nodded, feeling way too small to do it herself. 

He laid her down on the ground and began to make quick work of the change. Vaggie played with a small fidget cube so it wasn’t so overwhelming. Once he was done and taped everything up, he carried her on his hip into the living room where watched her play with blocks and sorting games.

Lucifer never realized how intense her trauma was. He was glad that he now knew so he could prepare for any future mishaps. It made him determined to be the best caregiver ever. He would make the small and scared fallen angel feel happy with herself again.

[mazyb0i]

Someone on Reddit tried to say that Rick only truly loves Beth, and to prove them wrong, so here I am!

tldr:

Character analysis of Rick Sanchez from an autistic fans point of view, understanding his attachment styles.

He'll do anything for BP, if season 6 proves anything, it's that he'll die for BP. He literally admitted to loving him, which I have not heard him tell or say about anyone before in the show. When

he does say stuff like that it is significant. Bird person is the only character on the show he has been openly genuine with.

If season 7 proves anything, Pers is the only one that can sneak up behind him and grab him out of nowhere without getting some snarky comment, mean look, or a left hook. They both care about each other deeply, that is clear. Rick was extremely

upset by the wedding with Tammy. Rick told the bird person how much he respected him more than anyone, even when he contradicted himself by saying nothing matters, he wanted to be with Percy. He wanted to travel with him and spent every moment with him.

--

"Then why did you help me?"

"I respect you, and I wanted you to know that you could respect me too."

" But if nothing matters...?"

"You matter! You matter to me."

"Uhhh- Rick... the relationship we have-"

"I never used that word!" - Rick (denialism)

--

It's funny how after this he calls him a judgmental dork, and not something much harsher.

--

"Why the fuck are you risking your life for that asshole!?" - Memory rick

"Because, you love him."

"You do maybe, but I don't."

"Yeah, yeah, you're real cool. Now, come help me save his life or fuck off, because I don't need you.

(Very much so loves BP.)

--

--

"I'm sorry Rick, but we cannot choose the ones we love" - Pers

"You got that right! Why do you think I'm still fucking down here!?"

--

Birdperson mentions that he would be dead if it wasn't for Rick, this also accounts for multiple times now since he brought BP back to life recently. Rick has stuck his neck out for the man so many times contradicting his "nothing matters" front, because that's what it is, it is a horrible coping mechanism to ignore your problems and pretend they don't exist because 'nothing matters'.

Its a problem that I have and I'm working through in therapy myself, it's called Denialism. Because 'if you shut yourself out from the world and your problems, then nothing can hurt you, and they don't exist'. You convince yourself you're in control when you're not, you have the least control, and it fucks you up. Rick isn't truly and fully nihilistic, or else literally nothing would matter to him. He makes sure to keep his Morty alive, he constantly brags on about how he can just get a new family, but he has the same Morty that he's had since the beginning and sticks his neck out for him as well.

--

"No, Morty. Because you were too afraid to tell me. What we had was abusive, don't you see? I'm a bad partner, because I never made you a true partner."

--

--

"I was afraid if I jumped in a hole you would just stand there and watch me, you wouldn't even jump in after me!" -Morty

But then Rick in season 1 literally jumped in after Morty when he fell through the garage floor into the Schrodinger's cat void.

"Be good, Morty, be better than me."

--

--

And when Rick starts crying at his memories of Morty in season One, but he refrains from expressing it so that Morty does not become, as he puts it, "cocky" (denialism)

I would also like to point out I feel like in the later seasons he starts calling Morty 'buddy' more?? he's a lot nicer to him than he used to be, and just recently allowed Morty to hug him without pushing him away, actually hugging back. He's also stated that he respects summer very deeply, which if he says that about someone, it really means that he does. He sees his Diane in Summer, and he also implies that summer is like a cat, her affection and respect needs to be earned; unlike Morty's dog like affection that is just given away. But we also hear Rick say that Morty reminds him a lot of himself when he was younger, this implies a lot of parallels.

Memory Rick brought out a lot of Rick that we didn't see previously, a person who wasn't fully tainted by the lack of treating mental Health issues, coping issues, unhealthy attachments, and all the other things that led up to Rick being the way he is. he said his heart broken so many times, he's been backstabbed, he is very hurt person. This doesn't excuse all of his actions but is a very good explanation and reason for why he is the way he is and the way the human psyche copes with it's environment to protect itself. it's like walking up to a caged animal with a taser, these are his defense mechanisms, it makes him look like a dick on the outside but currently it is the only thing that he knows how to do on instinct for protection, and that's why he's in therapy. This is why I believe he's genuinely trying to get better, he can get along with his therapist more than ever, even if he has sly remarks he genuinely listens to Mrs. Wong.

--

"I don't like being told where to go or what to do. I consider it a violation."

--

"There's a lesson here, and I won't be the one to figure it out"

--

"I don't discuss problems, I incinerate them"

--

"It was charmingly analog. For a sec, you kind of made me like myself." - Mem Rick

"You'll grow out of it." - Rick

He resents his younger self for helping him and makes sure to mention that he "grew out" of his ability to like himself, Rick has some extreme self-hatred. it's hard to fully love someone or Express a healthy relationship when you can't even have a healthy relationship with yourself.

--

"You act like you're the one that got stabbed in the back!" -Morty

"Because I AM THE ONE, Morty. You wanna know why I replaced myself in the beginning of that stupid knights of the morning sun thing!? I SAID don't take the fucking sword! And you were like "Whatever", like I'm our neighbor Jean or David Arquette or something!! You called me boring! I've become dog shit to you! That's what happens when you let people in and they stop respecting you! They touch your shit, they screw things up, they KILL your fuckin family! Go ahead and trust them, you're gonna learn the same fuckin thing." -Rick

--

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Origins SMP

@peerpressureweek day 6! Crossover AU

“Phil I need you to come home, like, right now,” Techno hissed into the communicator, covering his mouth slightly as he hunched in the corner.

“Yeah, uhhh, bit of a problem about that mate—”

“Oh god, did the weird new Ranboo do something to you? Please tell me this new manifestation of some freak mental illness that is presenting itself as Ranboo didn’t do something to you, Phil. I don’t want to have to start a vendetta against this kid, even if he is…” Techno glanced briefly over his shoulder.

“Mate, I hate to break it to you, but normal-Ranboo who is not having a personality crisis is still out here with me—”

“Heh!?!?”

“But more pressingly, there is a you here, who is maybe three feet tall, demanding carrots, and has fuckin’ bunny ears.”

“Heeeeeeeeeh?!?!?”

“Oh, Techno, are you, um, are you still—”

“Oh thank god, Ranboo, I was so scared I’d never hear your normal voice again!”

“Ohhhhkay, okay, let’s go home. Okay, come on Ranboo, weird, rabbit-Techno, let’s just. Let’s all go home.”

“Hurry!” Technoblade urged, peering over his shoulder at the too-tall, all-black, weird Ranboo who was staring about Techno’s home with open disdain.

This Ranboo was, admittedly, very swanky, all dressed up in a pretty, inky dress that had swishy, slinky, silky skirts, his tail rustling them slightly as it twitched and jerked from side to side. Lots of gold and jewelry, Techno appreciated that, and a tiara much more dainty than Ranboo’s own crown. By all accounts, he looked very different from the Ranboo Techno knew, but some instinctive part of him saw this person and knew it was Ranboo (that, and, well, he’d told Techno his name was Ranboo, so. There was that).

“Do people here normally live in such… squalor?” the not-Ranboo-but-still-Ranboo asked, and Techno made a distressed, high pitched noise that was only halfway approximating words.

“My house is nice!” he insisted. “At least I’m not homeless! I am not homeless, that’s more than I can say for some green teletubbies I know. Hey, do you know a guy who is,” Techno gestured vaguely, “Kind of like me, but has rabbit ears?”

“Yes,” Ranboo sniffed, like he’d caught a whiff of garbage. “Come to think of it, he has your same name.”

“Right. So, uh, what are you two doin’ here, in my house—”

“He’s not in your house, is he?”

“Well, no, not yet, but he’s with Phil and my Ranboo, which means he’s on my property, which is basically my house.”

“You own property and yet cannot afford to live somewhere a little nicer than this?”

A beat of wings spared Techno from having to come up with some sort of response to that particular remark.

“Oh god, Phil, where is he?” Techno asked, rushing past his best friend so he could latch onto Ranboo with some well-deserved theatrics. “Thank god! Thank god you’re okay! Can you imagine me having to live with this guy as my new pupil? Absolutely not. Aaaaabsolutely not. Superior Ranboo once again in the house.”

“Superior!” the other-Ranboo gasped, shocked and offended.

“Who are you?”

Techno ignored the spluttering not-Ranboo in favor of staring at the stout man who had a voice just like his own.

It was, indeed, a version of himself, but instead of pig haunches, shelled ears, and small tusks poking up from his lip, this person had rabbit legs, long pink floppy ears, and buck teeth. And yes, he was slightly less than half Techno’s height.

Techno wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up or laugh.

“Uh, Technoblade. Who are you?”

The bunny man frowned. “You can’t be Technoblade. I’m Technoblade!”

“I think the subject of the hour is how we’re both Technoblade, and for some reason you are in my house!”

“And you are supposed to be… some inferior, peasant version of me?” not-Ranboo asked, staring down his nose at normal Ranboo, whose tail was lashing with his agitation and ears were pinned back.

“I uh, don’t know if inferior is the word I would use, but since, this is where my friends and I live, and you’re the outsider, I think you are probably the alternate version of me.”

Other Ranboo sniffed. “Unlikely. I am a prince, you know.”

“No, I, didn’t know that. You’re no prince I’ve ever heard of.”

“OKAY! Everybody let’s all just sit down and try to figure this out!” Phil shouted overtop the two conversations, nobody seeming happy about anything but everyone willing to listen to Phil. “Dress Ranboo. Bunny Technoblade. What are the last things you can remember before coming he—yes Bunnyblade?”

The other Techno lowered his hand while Techno himself wrinkled his nose at Phil’s impromptu naming scheme.

“You got any carrots?”

[ghostofasecretary]

weird day. Monday. 12.5.22. yes.

stuff i did today!

- wore an outfit from the List Of Outfits That Would Be Cool i made yesterday

- lost phone. went on a stupid quest to get phone again and got rewarded with an outfit compliment and my phone. am v glad i have phone

- [work bs static noises]

- made list of possible gifts to get work gift exchange person

- got news of my grandma's dx. not great!

- cooked dinner and my dad and i enjoyed it

- on Saturday i told my stylist my part was in a different place than it actually is (fatal error) so to fix it a little i cut some of my hair with kitchen shears (a centimeter too short) but also did not cut enough of it (fix later)

- called friends and played cards and vibed, that was great

- bought new glasses because apparently i need new glasses every like 4-6 months now

- was too Exhausted to call other people or send the texts i was meaning to send (sorry frondos) (maybe i can fix one of these problems later)

- watched the new episode of Bleach! really enjoying TYBW so far even though i do not remember enjoying reading the manga that much

- hugged my parents

- watered my plants

that's a nice list of things. or, y'know, there are at least two terrible things on it but i mostly did stuff!

i'm in that, like, "everything is horrible because One Big Thing is horrible but also there are other awful things in the background too" spot where any small thing is devastating? like i almost cried about losing my phone this morning and i was SO mad about it and then about all the other bullshit. and then the news was just--haha ok. ok. well. gonna uhhh kneel with my head on my bed like a Victorian protagonist, i guess! feeling overwhelmed and lifeless!

i want the things in my life to stop being in my life. and to welcome other better things into my life. and to have a fucking break.

the current level of anxiety and bad shit is horrid but it's not going to immediately kill me or fuck up my work life. i want better things for myself than this, but my current goal is to make it to February, see if sticking around was worth it and if not screech a lot, and then either way jump shit to a hopefully better situation. and also i'll keep an eye out for nicer ships that i might be able to jump to for, like, January. i can make it till the holidays. i can make it through December.

oh jesus fuck i'm getting hives on my feet now??? rude

anyways. um. i can also quit at any time and take a holiday because of the lifestyle choices i'm making and the privileges i have, so that's an option to remember. it would not be easy or long-term smart but it is a real option if i need to snap. and maybe the more pressing of the two bullshit issues will resolve soon and i will be less stressed and have a little more time for living and soul-nourishing study and stuff like that. we'll see. did i mention today was weird? today was weird. but hey, i did it! go me

there isn't really a nice conclusion to this ramble i just need to get my thoughts down somewhere and public felt better than private for whatever reason, so, here you go

[monsterfloofs]

omg your new monster gave me a new story idea! nightmare monster gets into the brains of this human to try to do their nightmare thing but they are a powerful lucid dreamer. they are quickly able to read what the nightmare monster's nightmares are and use that to their advantage. now as a lucid dreamer, i can confirm that a dream is still a dream and when arent always there. so, in seeing sexy monster and having power over it, they come in for a kiss. maybe more idk. anyway nightmare monster becomes super infatuated with them, but when they actually find the human outside of dreams, the human doesnt remember any of their dreams and the nightmare monster is endlessly pining for someone they have flirted, kissed, and maybe fucked multiple times who makes them feel powerless (which is rare for a master of nightmares) but the human doesnt even know who they are

Ooh!! That is a really neat idea! I like the idea of turning the tables on the spooky bebe. And then the absolute upset of the person they have the biggest dumbest crush on doesn't remember them!! Oh no!! That is like the epitome of the trope "Don't you know who I am?! vs. Uhhh no? Should I?" That's always such a fun one too.

I actually have a funny story about a lucid dreaming episode that cracked me up! I was being chased by this mountainous rippling muscle mass, of a monsterous slaysher type character, and at the moment I realized it was a dream half concious brain was like otay-- make the scary person wuv me instead of hate me!! Because love conqures eviiiillll

And legit I kid you not the next scene we were at a marriage podium and there were flowers petals everywhere and they were wearing a tux and looked so ridiculously proud of themselves AKSKSKSJSS it was so funny ahhh!!

I woke up immediately though because it startled me sksksksjsjsjsis

I will always remember the day I was almost mawwaged to that nice scary man.

--

The NC is actually a lot nicer than the typical gonna feed of your fears nightmare monster ahhhhh I wanna blab about it but ahhhhhh I hope the prequel conveys it correctly!

The best way I can describe it is they treat it like a symbotic relationship-- I take the fear away because I need it, and leave you with good dreams.

But they are also kind of dense because they see that people like being scared and watching scary things and yet don't usually like nightmares! So they are watching from afar and just shrug goofily. Hoomans being hoomans teehee, they no get it. (And they tease people when they like them too, instead of a schoolboy showing a girl they like bugs, they just make their form all dumb and wibbly)

[erithacuscreations]

Hey! Sorry for the silence; the past couple months have been pretty busy for me. Our little Haus has been moving into a bigger apartment! The new place is much nicer, definitely safer, and we like it a lot. I’ve got my own little space for my animals and desk, we've got a patio, and for once all of our packages are actually getting delivered correctly! It’s very nice now that we’re finally out of the old place. We still have unpacking to do and new routines to settle into, but everything is going great otherwise.

Outside of moving, I’ve kind of been having a rough time emotionally. My grandma began rapidly declining in January, and though I immediately took time to drive out of state to see her in early February, I wasn’t ready for her to pass so soon after that. I’m still processing everything. She was the grandparent I spent the most the most time with growing up. She fostered my love of drawing and dragons and fantasy, so it’s safe to say I wouldn’t even be recognizable as the same person if she wasn’t in my life. I'm very sad of course, but I'm glad she was able to pass the way she wanted to. I’m hoping that remembering her gets easier as time goes on.

I’ve had a birthday in the past month as well, not a very exciting or pleasant one coming off the heels of a fresh loss and in the depths of moving hell but what can you do, really?

I’m also sick haha yaaaaay. Lots of coughing, chest congestion, and mucus that have made working hard the past week. The more severe parts of it are over now, and I just have rattling lungs and congested sinuses left. Y’all, this thing took me out for a while, not gonna lie. Definitely don’t recommend working a full day in a grocery store while wearing a binder and having chest congestion at the same time lmao. I’m taking it as easy as I can though, given that I work in an unforgiving retail environment. Most of my managers have been pretty kind about my current state, some have let me leave early on days where I’m not feeling great.

Uhhh art news… Working on a couple new isopods for my local ad, then I’ll be sharing an updated commission menu with adjusted prices! And maybe I’ll be opening up for telegram stickers? Haven’t opened for em in a while but I enjoy doing them when I get a chance! It’s uh. Kinda been a while since I’ve done any art so I’m going a little easy on myself getting started again. I need to go through my WIPs and figure out what to work on after that! I know I’ve got a lot of stuff on my infinite to-do list that I want to get around to doing.

I don’t really allow myself to splurge on a lot besides snacks, but I’ve gotten some fun pens and plan to start journaling, regularly hopefully. I don’t do a lot of traditional media stuff these days, but I feel like jotting down my thoughts about how my day went will help be build more familiarity with the tools and practice again. I have a little notebook that I’ve customized and keep in my nightstand with the thought that I’ll do little sharpie doodles in it, but I never manage to motivate myself to do it even when I remember to… Maybe journaling will help with the confidence I need to do that? We’ll see.

Anyways, thanks for bearing with me y’all! Hope you’re doing okay. As always, please feel free to email me if you have any questions about commissions. Have a good week!

[idontknowiknow]

making weekend plans as though i will have finished my assignment by then was a bold move

[strawberry-possum]

Me at the beginning of the night: I wanna try and finish the ears, eyes, nose, and at least two legs on this crocheted cat!!

Me, dead on my feet, two ears and and two hours later: hahaha and I thought I'd get a lot done tonight

[platypanthewriter]

The Devil Looks After His Own (Ch.1)

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV--but luckily, it doesn't work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later.  Years later, they're best friends, and Steve still doesn't know the truth.  For @magniloquent-raven​!

When his dad finally locked him out of the office, Steve spent the morning sitting in the hallway playing with his Legos.  When his stomach growled, he knocked quietly, and his dad’s voice on the phone continued, so he went in the kitchen to forage.  He found Cheez-its, and olives, and a tightly wrapped triangle of gooey cheese that tasted good in the middle, but had gross, chalky skin, so he licked the middle out and stuffed the rest down the side of the garbage. 

He walked back into the front room and flipped the TV on, just to make some noise.  “In the future,” came the syrupy voice of the man on the screen, “—we’ll have robots to be our helper-friends!”  He chuckled to himself, leaning back in his leather chair, and folding his arms on his huge wooden desk.  “But that doesn’t work for us now, I hear you say.”  

The camera zoomed out, and he waved to a woman with curly hair and long fangs, sitting on the edge of his desk.  She was wearing way less clothes than the man was, and Steve frowned, wondering whether she was cold.  “Our summoning spells are assembled by real lawyers, and airtight!” the man said, and the woman nodded, smiling, and holding up a picture with a lot of numbers and lines.  Steve squinted at it guiltily—he’d seen the man’s ads before, and he mostly remembered the picture, probably.  

The helper-friend lady looked nice, he thought.  

“Too good to be true?  We even include offerings!  Bat eyes, tears of the innocent—” he said, smiling and holding up jars, as ‘ethically sourced from internment facilities’ scrolled across the screen.

Steve frowned around, and then grabbed his LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, the most complex set he owned.

“Honey,” the man told the woman on screen, and she opened a can of soda, and poured it over her own head, still smiling.  “Perfectly compliant,” he said.  “And just wait, there’s more!  Any purchase comes with a matching, complimentary summoning sigil for a protective home guardian!  Just drip a drop of fluid—” he winked at the camera, and it showed something red splashing across the page, as his voice suddenly screamed “Augh-no!  Don’t—”

Steve had already grabbed the remote and hit the fifteen-second replay, and began drawing out the picture.  He hit it again and again, coloring in different colors, and wishing people in commercials didn’t always yell.  He drew the circle carefully with a piece of thread from the long fringe on a throw-blanket he wasn’t allowed to mess up, then folded it carefully again, grimacing.  He colored in the crosses with a different color so it looked nicer, and drew the little castle wall-looking-bit.  He added a horse.  

When it came time to drip fluid on it, he clicked the TV off, and got a juice box from the fridge, figuring apple juice was way less gross than blood, and it wouldn’t ruin his picture.  

Steve stared at the picture, holding the juice box, and thinking.  He imagined not eating alone.  He imagined the nice lady smiling at his Legos—maybe she’d like the castle set, he thought, like in her picture.  He’d just summon her for a little, he thought—just a few minutes, enough to make them both a PB&J.    

His stomach growled—again—and he frowned at his dad’s office door, sighed, plonked the Camaro in the middle of the picture, and squeezed the juice box to spray over it all.  

Nothing happened.  Steve stared at the picture for a long moment, his eyes welling up with tears, and then kicked the couch.  It felt like his foot broke from the impact, and he spun around in a circle, muttering a lot of words he wasn’t allowed to say in the house.  He hopped into the kitchen, sniffling, and got out the peanut butter, jam, and a spoon—but instead of getting the bread, he sat on the floor in front of the sink.  

He felt a sinking sensation of guilt as he stuck the spoon right into first the jam, and then the peanut butter, sticking the whole spoonful straight in his mouth and licking it off.  Once he’d licked the spoon, he stuck it back in the jar, his heart pounding.  The peanut butter was crunchy and salty, and the strawberry jam was stickily sweet.  He wondered whether his mom would check the bread and know, and cried harder as he chewed, hugging his knees.

The floor in the front room creaked, and he startled so hard the spoon jabbed hard between his upper molars.  He scrambled to his feet, fumbling the lids back on the jam and the peanut butter and shoving them under the sink, his heart thudding in his chest, but nobody came in.  

The couch squeaked softly, and Steve edged to the doorway, the big spoon hanging forgotten from his mouth, to see a tall man with horns and no clothes at all lying across the couch, right up against the forbidden throw blanket.  He raised his eyebrows—they had shiny jewelry in them—and breathed out smoke, indoors, as he looked up at Steve.

He then yelped and scrambled to fall with a thud over the back of the couch.  “The fff—what are you doing here, kid,” came his voice, from behind the couch.  “Where the—where on earth are your parents?!”

“Unhm,” said Steve, who hadn’t ever seen a man wear so much jewelry before, and wondered how much it hurt to have jewelry in your dick.  He took the spoon out of his mouth.  “Uh.  Dad—dad is—in there,” he pointed vaguely toward his dad’s office, his eyes still fixed on the horns sticking up past the back of the couch.  “Do...do you want me to...get him?”  

The naked man popped up behind the couch again, looking kind of mad, and Steve stepped further back, watching the golden chains and jewels glint in the light from the window.  “...you look very pretty,” Steve said politely, and the man groaned, grabbing the blanket as he stood, and wrapping it around his waist like a towel.

“Why the—why are you here,” he hissed, and Steve swallowed.

“I’ll go in my room,” he tried to say, but it came out kind of a weird whisper, and he realized he was starting to cry again, so he turned away, and the man scrambled from behind the couch.

“Wait!  Kid,” he said, and Steve stopped to see him step and spin kind of gracefully around the glass coffee table without catching the blanket on it.  All his nails were pointed, and painted black.  “I’m sorry—” he cut off, staring down at Steve’s picture, and the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.  

“...what’s this,” he asked, like maybe he was mad again, and Steve wondered, suddenly, whether his mom had forgotten to lock the door, and the man was a naked burglar, looking for clothes to steal.  

“I wanted to meet the TV lady,” Steve admitted, trying to take it, but the man snatched it up.  “Um, are you—are you a burglar?”

“Am I—” the man glared at him—his eyes looked like fire, weirdly, the blue fire on the stove—but he didn’t look mad at Steve, yet, so Steve just bit his lips together.  “...you drew this?” the horny man asked, more quietly, and Steve nodded.  “Why?” he asked, and Steve knew he was in trouble—even if the man wasn’t supposed to be there, grownups always told each other when Steve did something dumb, like steal the TV man’s picture, which was the point Steve realized he was a stealer, a thief, like on TV.  America’s Most Wanted, he thought, his heart pounding.  

“Why draw this?” the man asked softly, crouching down, and Steve sniffled again, wiping his eyes.  

“He said a friend would come,” he admitted, wondering whether kids had their own jail, or whether he’d be in the one with all the guys from movies, who chased teenagers with chainsaws and knives.  

“You wanted a friend?” the man asked, but even softer, and Steve nodded, clenching his fingers in the sides of his pants.

“I didn’t mean to steal it,” he whispered.  “I won’t do it again.”

“...okay,” the man said.  “Don’t—don’t cry, it’s okay, are—are you okay?” he held his hands up like he was gonna touch Steve’s shoulders, then crossed his arms, frowning.

“I’m okay,” Steve nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve.  “...are, um,” he asked, cautiously, “—are you supposed to be...in here?”

“Uhhh,” said the man.  “Definitely not naked, right?” he laughed, kinda nervously, Steve thought, and he snapped his fingers.  The throw blanket turned into shiny fringed pants.  

“Ohhh,” Steve whispered, impressed.  “How’d you do that?”

“Oh,” the man said, grimacing.  “Um, let’s talk about you summoning demons, okay?”

“...okay,” Steve nodded, sighing, but then a thought occurred to him.  “Uh, do you want a PB&J?”

 As they ate, the man spread Steve’s picture on the table, with the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“So this is a circle to summon the demon Belial,” he said, low but kind of intense, like Steve was in trouble, but mostly he looked sort of worried.  

Steve swallowed his bite of sandwich.  “...it’s not exactly the same,” he pointed out, a little sulkily.  “I added a horse.”

“...so you did,” said the man, turning it to look.  “...look, summoning demons is very dangerous—”

“My dad says there aren’t bad demon summoners,” Steve told him.  “He says there are bad plumbers, and bad strippers, but if you’re talking to somebody, and they summoned a demon, they must be good at it, because you’re talking to them, and—and he was on TV—”

“Strippers,” said the man weakly, and Steve realized he was being rude to his guest.  

“I’m Steve,” he said.  “What’s your name?”

“...Bel,” said the man, then, hurriedly, “Bill?”

“My mom likes Billy Idol.  And Billy Joel,” Steve suggested, and the man nodded.

“That’s a normal name that I definitely have,” he nodded, grimacing, “—Billy, I’m Billy.”

Steve considered this.  

“Are you listening, though?  About demon-summoning?  Even a lot of adults have a hard time with it—” Billy started again, holding Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 to his chest like it was a present for him.

“The guy on TV said it was for a helper friend,” Steve told him, feeling a little guilty, but really not too much, since it hadn’t even worked.

“Steve,” Billy said, pressing his hands together over his mouth.  The chain hooking his earring to the ring in his lip swayed and made a bell sound, and Steve stared at it, then remembered to nod.  “Okay,” Billy said.  “Could you promise me you won’t try to summon any more demons?”

“My dad says—” Steve started, again, but he cut off guiltily as Billy slumped back in his chair, groaning.

“Look,” Billy tried again, rubbing his face.  “Summoning demons isn’t like inviting somebody over, okay?  They have to come.  Now imagine if someone called you up to—” he frowned down at himself, biting his lips with pointed teeth, and cleared his throat.  “Uh,” he said, swallowing, and snapped his fingers with both hands—and all the jewelry vanished.  Even his cool horns were gone, Steve realized, and he had clothes on, a little tiny black shirt that showed his belly button, and shiny plastic-y silver pants.  

It was disappointing, but Steve looked into Billy’s flameless eyes and blunt-toothed smile and politely said “...you still look nice...I guess.”  Billy snorted a laugh.  “...I’ve never seen pants like that,” Steve offered, and Billy frowned down.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, then shook his head.  “No, wait.  Okay.  What if you don’t want to go somewhere—”

“People make me go places all the time,” Steve said darkly, remembering the week before, when his mom had drug him in for a haircut that made him look like G.I. Joe.  He rubbed his still-fuzzy head, glowering.

“Uh,” Billy said, trying not to smile, but spinning the tires on the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve was a little proud that he liked it so much.  “Okay, a stranger.  What if a stranger makes you go somewhere you don’t want to go?”

“That’s kidnapping,” Steve said, breathlessly, his eyes huge, and Billy pointed the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 at him.  

“Yes.  When you summon a demon, you’re kidnapping them, okay?  And they can’t leave unless you let them go.”

“But the man on the TV said—” Steve whispered, then stopped, remembering how he’d made the almost-naked woman pour soda on her own head.  Steve covered his mouth, suddenly realizing she might not have wanted to be almost-naked, maybe the man had taken her clothes off, like Steve with a doll.  “Oh no,” he whispered.  “I’m so glad it didn’t work!”

“Ah, yeeeah,” Billy said, grimacing.  

“Um,” said Steve, reaching a hand over to retrieve his prize LEGO kit, and Billy snatched it back.  Steve narrowed his eyes.  “You were looking for my parents, but my dad didn’t say you were coming over, are you my mom’s friend?”

Billy winced, grimacing.  “Where is she?”

“She’s at work,” Steve told him.  “Daycare is too expensive, so over the summer I have to be good.”

“Wait, are there any grownups here?!” Billy asked, looking horrified, and Steve nodded, pointing down the hall again.

“My dad.  He locks the door.”

“...What if you drown in the bathtub, or try to eat your own fingers, or something,” Billy breathed, and Steve glared at him.

“I’m not little,” he hissed, sliding forward in his chair a little, so his toes reached the floor.  “I’m not a baby.”

“You don’t need a friend, you need a nanny,” said the recently smoking, horned, pierced and tattooed man before him.  “And that’s, uh, that’s why your mom sent me.”

“...did she really send you?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes, and Billy crossed his arms on the table, hugging Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 against his chest.  

“Yeah.  Yeah, she did,” he said defiantly, and Steve relaxed a little, because Billy sounded like a teenager, just a bigger kid, really.  “She said to put less peanut butter and jelly in your sandwiches,” he pointed to Steve’s overflowing PB&J-bread-burrito, looking smug, “—and just make another sandwich.”

Steve gasped, staring at him, and feeling absolutely betrayed.  “You tricked me!  Why’d you let me make it!”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell,” Billy said, and Steve’s heart was won.

 Billy won it further when he scooted his plate aside to admire the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve drug him back to his room to show him the kits he had.  “Come on,” he said, excited and rude, and Billy slowed way down, grimacing, and flickering back to his pretty bejeweled self, with horns.  

“How about you ask if I wanna do things,” he said stiffly, slowing almost to a stop, and smoking more around the eyes.  

“Oh, yeah,” Steve nodded.  “Sorry.  Can I show you my room?”

“Or maybe, ‘Hey, Billy, want to see my room,’” Billy suggested, taking a deep breath.  

“Okay,” Steve nodded.  “Want to see my room?”

“Sure,” Billy nodded, relaxing like it was some big relief.  

It occurred to Steve maybe it was.  “Sorry,” he said quickly.  “I’ll be polite, I won’t get you fired.”

“Um, yeah,” Billy laughed, shaking his head.  “Maybe don’t, uh, order me around.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, thinking hard about it, so he’d remember.  “I won’t say ‘Billy, pick me upOOF—” he wheezed, as Billy yanked him into the air with one arm around his waist.  “Sorry,” Steve wheezed, his feet kicking.  “I-I’ll say Billy would you, sorry—”

“Shit!  Damn it, I mean, uh, sorry,” Billy said, grimacing, and sat Steve back on his feet, straightening his clothes.  

“I’ll remember,” Steve told him, wide-eyed, and then, because Billy looked guilty, “It’s okay.”

 He tried hard to remember, and he usually did, because Billy got all tense and weird if Steve forgot, like he was trying to move underwater, and Steve had to yell “If you want!  If you want!” as Billy grimly bit into the crunchy, burned eggs Steve had made.  

“That was disgusting,” Billy told him, that time, and Steve couldn’t stop laughing, waving his hands.

“Okay, okay, can I—can I just tell you you can ignore me?  I won’t tell, you can just—just do things if you want to—”

“...you sure about that?” Billy asked, snorting softly, like Steve might be kidding, and Steve nodded frantically.  

“Yeah!  Yes!  Don’t, um, don’t eat any more eggshells, I’m sorry!”

“...okay,” Billy said, smiling down at him.  “When am I not supposed to listen?”

“Uh,” said Steve, blinking at him.  “I mean.  You should—you should always listen—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“No, you should!” Steve told him, grabbing Billy’s hand and tugging it.  “What if something’s gonna hit you in the head?  You should listen,” he nodded, thinking about it.  “But once you listen, you should decide what you want to do.”

“What if I wanted to...eat you?” Billy asked him, reaching down to tickle Steve’s stomach, and Steve yelped, giggling.

“You won’t eat me,” Steve told him, leaning into Billy, to give him a hug.  “You’re nice.”

Billy sighed, and hugged him back, tightly.

 Billy was better at some things than other people, like clothes, Steve thought, because Billy was always pointing people’s outfits out, and explaining how they weren’t as good at picking them.  He wasn’t as good at other things, though.  Steve sat down one night to heated-up pasta sauce over Cheerios, and he didn’t want to say anything, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t right.  Billy gave Steve’s mom a glass of water that was completely frozen because she said she wanted it iced, and when Steve’s dad told Billy to make burgers, Billy didn’t buy buns, or tomatoes, or anything, and he threw the meat in the pan until it caught fire.  

Steve was pretty sure none of it was a joke, because Billy frowned between the glass and Steve’s mom, and grimaced over the burgers after Steve’s dad stomped away, and Steve caught him whispering into the phone to the neighbor, hiding half in the fridge like nobody was gonna notice it was open.  

“Billy,” he whispered, and Billy jumped, as Steve crouched down next to him.  The breeze from the inside of the fridge was nice, but it hardened all Steve’s suspicions, because no grown-up had ever left the fridge open, he was pretty sure.  

“Yeah,” Billy muttered back, guiltily.

“...how old’re you,” Steve asked, and Billy flinched.  

“Older than you,” he shot back, and that Steve was willing to give him, because Billy wasn’t human, and some things lived different amounts of time, like trees.  

“Are you a kid too?” Steve asked, and Billy glared at him.

“No,” he said defiantly, and Steve nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows, until Billy groaned, deflating, sitting against the edge of the fridge and letting his legs sprawl out across the floor.  “Look, I’m trying—”

“I won’t tell,” Steve said, reaching out and squeezing Billy’s hand.  “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“...teenager...maybe,” Billy admitted, grimacing.  

“Okay,” Steve said, nodding.  “Billy,” he said, trying to sound like a parent, or a teacher, and Billy’s shoulders hunched.  “You need to tell me you need help,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips.  “I can help with things like human food.”

“You are human food,” Billy said, fondly, yanking Steve into a hug.

 Most of the people that did magic like Billy ate kids occasionally, Steve found out, as he was reading his Dictionary of the Magic Realms that night under the covers, by flashlight.  Maybe they were mean kids, Steve thought, or maybe Billy was just way nicer.  “Are you a fairy?” he asked the next morning, and Billy laughed.  

“Depends on what you mean,” he said, grinning over.  “Is that slang for—”

“Can you fly,” Steve interrupted, because that seemed the most important, and Billy cocked his head.  

“...actually, I probably could,” he said, considering.  “Not like you mean, though.  I don’t have secret butterfly wings, or anything.”

“Oh,” Steve said, because he'd been privately imagining Billy as they’d first met, with the jewelry and the horns and wings, and it seemed to fit.

“...do you want me to have wings?” Billy asked, sitting aside the dish he was drying, and bending down sideways to try and meet Steve’s eyes.  “I can change form—”

“No!” Steve told him, waving his hands.  “No, I know you like looking like...that.”

“...that,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at himself.  “You saying I need to do better?”

“You’re just—normal,” Steve said quickly.  “Instead of pretty.”

“Instead of,” Billy growled.

“I mean,” Steve yelped, waving his hands.  “Pretty with all the jewelry!  And the horns.”

“I was gonna say,” Billy said, reddening.  “If you’re saying I’m not pretty—”

“Of course you’re pretty,” Steve said, rolling his eyes and sighing, but grinning, too.  He patted Billy’s shoulder.

“Well,” Billy said, clearing his throat, and turning back to the dishes.  “All right, then.”

 A few days later, Billy was moving the kettle off the flame for hot chocolate, and a big gout of steam belched up over his arm, which shimmered into all over scales.  Steve yelped and grabbed him, yanking him over to the sink, and ran water over it, all the while panicking.

“Billy, are you a mermaid?!” he asked, spraying Billy’s arm, and trying not to cry.  “Are you a mermaid, are you okay, are hot things bad for mermaids—”

“I’m okay,” Billy told him, turning off the water, and hugging him close.  “I’m not a mermaid, Stevie, I’m not hurt.”

“O-okay,” Steve gasped, grabbing Billy’s arm to run his fingers over it.  “You—you’re okay,” he whispered, leaning into Billy’s hugs.  “...are you a...lizard?  Or a snake?”

“Nope, not exactly,” Billy said, snorting a laugh, and Steve groaned.

The rest of my Harringrove works

[regenderate]

rose martha and nine for the ask meme!

thank you… excellent taste. i already did nine so here’s rose and martha

Rose:

Sexuality Headcanon: bi but i also feel like. she’s just in love with the doctor and the gender is not relevant

Gender Headcanon: woman honestly i usually think of her as cis but i also think she could be trans 🤔 of course this applies to every character but you know. maybe everyone is just trans 🤔

A ship I have with said character: OBVIOUSLY doctor/rose. any doctor but ten and thirteen have a special place in my heart as rose ships

A BROTP I have with said character: honestly any other companion but especially yaz. they’re very similar and i want them to be friends

A NOTP I have with said character: uhhh i don’t know i feel like she needed to break up with mickey sooner but i don’t feel so strongly as to call it a NOTP, i more just think that relationship was written in a way that normalized a lot of unhealthy dynamics and the writers didn’t do much to unpack that. again i haven’t seen anything too egregious although everything exists somewhere on ao3

A random headcanon: she definitely Did Not look into the heart of the tardis and come out physically unscathed. like she’s definitely immortal now and like VERY connected to the tardis they’re best friends. OH maybe that’s a BROTP ❤️

General Opinion over said character: i love her. light of my life. is this just because she was the first character i saw in the show and my 13-year-old self imprinted on her like a baby bird? maybe so. and yet here we are today living in a world where people who have never seen doctor who know about rose tyler because of me

Martha:

Sexuality Headcanon: hmmm definitely bi. i feel like rtd era has a lot of bi energy.

Gender Headcanon: cis woman

A ship I have with said character: okay we’re going deep for this one stay with me. i have for YEARS shipped her with river but i’ve never finished ONE FIC for it. maybe it is not meant to be. and yet…

A BROTP I have with said character: if the doctor was nicer to her they would be such cute friends :( but nooooo i will have to say donna… or rose like. in s4. honestly similar to rose i would like to see her being friends with any companion. OR like a later doctor after some time has passed for both of them

A NOTP I have with said character: the doctor literally does not deserve her :( i get it you’re grieving but be NICE!

A random headcanon: ohhh well i like to think about her finishing her medical degree after she leaves, pretty sure that’s just canon though(?). but like i think she lives a really nice life on earth being a doctor and working for UNIT and all that. i wonder if she ever introduces herself like “i’m the doctor” just for a laugh

General Opinion over said character: i love her and like when i was first watching age 13 my brothers and i were NOT impressed by the idea of anyone replacing rose, like we read a new name in the netflix episode descriptions and were like >:( sight unseen, so poor martha had a lot to live up to and she lived up to it!!! she is so cool. also like the doctor should not have treated her like that But watching her be able to say “i deserve better” and walk out was like. formative moments for adolescent me.

[xskyll]

Little Shop of Horrors tddk au.

Izuku is Seymour and Shouto is Audrey. They're both teens though, so Izuku working at the flower shop is an after school job. Instead of an abusive dentist bf, Shouto has an abusive dentist dad.

I'm thinking instead of a scar Shouto just constantly has a black eye. When he tells Izuku his dad hits him, Izuku is alarmed and Shouto is like, "It's whatever," but Izuku says it's not and touches his bruise. Shouto's never been touched so gently before or looked at with such concern and he's just, the hell are all these feelings???

Shouto smokes, as an act of rebellion, and always has a lighter on him. He starts carrying this unnecessarily huge can of hairspray with him and whenever his dad gets close he holds it up to his lighter like, "Don't test me, bitch."

I think Shouto II would just look the same as the play/movie. But maybe is voiced by AFO?? Or Bakugou??? Bakugou has the vocal range, but Shouto II would be much less sneakily manipulative and 100% more blunt, lol.

"Shouto's dad isn't a good person..."

"Then f@!king toast him!! Here's a gun, bring me the corpse fresh!"

"Ahh, how did you get a gun!?!? You're a plant!"

I'm gonna say Enji dies the same way? Like, Shouto II convinces little Izu to bring the gun to the dentist office and kill him. But he's trembling and he can't do it. But then Enji ends up accidentally killing himself anyway, with the broken gas mask. I'm gonna say he doesn't plead for help, but just struggles. Izuki hesitates but ultimately DOES try to save him, but Enji resists his help and ends up dying. So Izuku cuts him up and brings him back to the shop to feed to Shouto II.

Shouto eventually finds out and is like ".....neat." Cue Izuku, "Neat?? How can you say neat??? I fed your dad to my plant!!"

Feeding his dad to a plant is PEAK romance in Shouto's book. Especially a plant that's named after him, like, goddamn.

Mr. Mushnik is probably All Might, but obvs he's like 100000xs nicer to Izuku, and instead of getting eaten by Shouto II he just gets hurt. He does put two and two together about Izuku's involvement with Enji's death and confronts him, but Izuku spills the entire truth to him immediately, just sobbing the whole time. All Might decides to kill the plant, for Izuku's sake, and that's when he gets hurt.

The ending is super anticlimatic, cause Shouto II tries to eat Shouto and he just torches it with his lighter and hairspray. Just an unnecessarily excessive amount of fire, lolol. Izuku: I guess our problems are basically solved now...?

Fuyumi gets custody of Shouto and he and Izuku start dating and everyone is happy, the end. Oh, and Shouto stops smoking. He's grumpy about it and eats lots of carrot sticks and pocky to cope.

Crystal, Ronnette, and Chiffon, the three Greek Chorus-esque narrators, are uhhh...Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero cause why not?

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

there’s a distinct irony in the fact that some parts of the Loki fandom are mad at other parts of the Loki fandom for being unnecessarily negative about Ragnarok and/or the upcoming show...and then primarily expressing this by posting loads of unnecessary negativity about those fans, or really any fan who disagrees with them on anything at all

which, like, making your own posts is certainly better than reblogging other people’s posts just to yell at them

but as somebody who seems to be pretty solidly in the middle on a lot of this stuff, I do find a lot of the Ragnarok/show negativity pretty demoralizing but frankly I find the posts mocking other fans to be even more demoralizing, in part because a) now you’re going out of your way to make fun of real people instead of just being critical of a piece of fiction and b) that shit doesn’t get tagged, unlike a lot of specific negativity posts, which means it’s fucking impossible to avoid if you’re following somebody who mostly posts good stuff but occasionally goes off on rants about the stupid fans who like Loki in all the wrong ways or something

and obviously I don’t have a platform here to get people to knock it off but holy shit I wish people would knock it off and just, like, try to be a little nicer maybe??

(I’m not totally sure if it makes this better or worse that a lot of what I’ve seen has boiled down to “I didn’t understand, or refuse to believe, that Those Loki Fans might be making a joke and therefore I’m going to make fun of them as if they were 100% serious,” but it’s uhhh...well it’s something)

[hexalene]

What's your wildest cruise ship story?

Oh shit I meant to post this sooner whoops

Uh

I have less “ONE BIG THING” stories and more of like, a series of surreal Events that happened to me over the course of the years and years I went on cruises (my family could go on cruises for free, so we abused the shit out of that for reunions and vacations for a long time)

So here’s a few of those, and I SWEAR TO GOD they’re real, and I might have photos buried somewhere to prove some of them, but idk, that’s like effort.

-I loved wandering around ships super super early in the morning. Like, crack of dawn early. I’d usually go hang out on one of the open floor restaurant areas around the middle of the ship, which had built in window seats you could curl up in. Pillows n shit too. Super comfy. I’d draw and listen to music, ect. One morning, I looked up and saw the Black fucking Pearl from Pirates of the Caribbean sailing by. Did not believe my eyes. It and four other ships, two of which were for non-pirate movies, were being sailed into a bay on the island we were headed to. I did manage to get a distant shot of it when I got on land.

-In 2006 (date relevant) I met two men in two different families, who were not related and had never met, named Tony Stark. As this was before the movie came out, I was left tragically alone with no one to be awed at this strange coincidence with me. One of them was even a dark haired man with a nice goatee.

(The other was a cute chubby grandpa type)

-Given the opportunity to demonstrate how corporations rig the system against the consumer, my father brought me down to the casino level and sat down across from a very fancy claw machine that dispensed iPads and other expensive tech prizes. He told me, “some people will win, and I’ll tell you when they will.”

I was like “okay dad sure” but we sat there for HOURS, and dad would say “okay, this guy will win if he goes for this prize” or “this guy will lose” and finally, “that woman will win an iPad.” Of course, most were losers, but he was DEAD ON every time someone would win. After a while he explained that the machine would only dispense prizes after collecting the money to pay for two more of whatever was won. He’d just sat there and done the math on the people playing the game and when it added up, he’d wait to see what they went for and let me know if they won. It had absolutely nothing to do with skill.

To make his point, he waited, counting out loud the money being put in, before standing up and slapping the button randomly on one of the lower rank prizes. He won an otter box phone case and told me that no one will ever give you the chance to win out at a loss to themselves, so don’t make a bet unless you’ve rigged the game to win. I was 14.

-uhhh what else

-The dance troupe arranged to do shows suffered a tragic undisclosed accident, so the short term bullshit to entertain people in the theatre was an honest to god passenger led talent show. Surreal on its own, but one of the passengers was a contortionist, and ran off to get their suitcase.

Now, they did a lot of fun bendy stuff, very weird, very cool, but they asked for volunteers at one point. I, my sister, our cousin, and two other kids were asked to come on stage. I was the oldest, maybe 12/13ish, my sister and cousin were 9, and the other two kids were between 6-9.

This MADMAN, without straining any of us to bend in any weird or uncomfortable way, managed to fit all five of us into his empty suitcase. I was in the damn thing and I have no idea how he managed it. He then zipped us all up inside and walked around the stage a bit. And it was fine, like not uncomfortable or hard to breath or anything!

I remember getting out of the suitcase clearest of all. We’d all been fit inside so snugly, in this order:

Me, stranger kid 1, cousin, sister, and stranger kid 2. To get us out, he lay the case flat and lifted my sister up. Somehow this like??? Was like those monkey in a barrel toys, we all just neatly unfolded with her, no tripping or falling or anything. That feeling, where one moment I’m staring at my cousins’ feet and some other kid’s elbow, and then I see the dude lift my sister and then all of us just RISE WITH IT and unfold like a flower blooming I have no idea if this makes any sense at all but it felt magical.

- Something bad happened back home, but we didn’t know what. My dad had a business meeting but mom wanted to see the beach. We got off the ship, and like, HARDCORE struggled to find a way to get to a beach, any beach. We were in....Mexico, somewhere in the neighborhood of Chichén Itzá, maybe an island nearby I think? There were some massive ruins somewhere, I remember that much.

While mom hunted down a beach, my siblings and I sat under a giant box fan, near a TV. Something was happening, the employees were changing the channel, trying to find the clearest signal to the American news. I remember looking over at the grainy footage being interrupted by commercials and other signals and piecing together through the static and the employee trying to translate that back home, the 2008 financial crash was happening and that mom’s insistence that we find a beach and have fun was because that business meeting dad had stayed behind to deal with was him trying to make sure we’d still have a house to live in when we got back to the states, and she didn’t know if this would be the last truly carefree time we had before we went home to face the music.

-However, mom’s eternal struggles to find a beach didn’t begin in 2008. The previous trip we’d taken had another Beach Adventure.

That time, it was also just mom and the siblings. I don’t remember why dad was staying behind, maybe a poker tournament or something?

We disembarked and the struggle began. Nothing was in English, other than the scant few signs the cruise ship put out to guide passengers off the docks. However, THIS was not a problem, as I was about as fluent in Spanish as a third grader restricted to the present tense, and this worked well enough to get us around.

There was a massive bus to a beach, just PACKED to the gills with Americans. As we waited in line, a nondescript man came up to us, and said, “that bus will go to a very crowded beach with many other passengers of other ships. I know a better beach, and cheap! I’ll charge only half of what that bus will charge you and my beach is much much nicer!”

You might be thinking that common sense would tell us not to get in a random unmarked car with an un-uniformed man offering an amazing half off deal to a perfect isolated beach in broken English on a largely rural island, wouldn’t you? You’d be wrong.

My mother is a sweet devout catholic lady with a hidden core of raw chaos. Her idea of a nice day out in the snow with her tiny children was to strap us in the back, drive to the massive Schnuck’s parking lot, gun it up to 90mph, and hydroplane/drift like a fucking drag racer across the ice, laughing. Common sense does not exist in any normal capacity in this woman.

We spent an incredibly tense, silent, 45 minutes driving into the wilderness packed into a tiny car with no AC, sweating with heat and nerves as he drove us out in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the driver pulls over. There is literally nothing but trees and cliffs for miles and miles. Mom is clutching my hand, my baby brother, and her knitting needles. The driver runs quickly to the center of the road, leans over, and picks up a huge tortoise that had frozen up when his car approached. He carried it over to the grass, and pat it goodbye.

Before he comes back Mom turns and looks at me and says, “a serial killer probably wouldn’t save a turtle, I think we’ll be okay.”