#yes its drawn on google notes...

[eotheslugbug]

lucius spriggs, representing how we're all feeling rn (as always)

[maximwtf]

Izzy Hands x reader fanfic where the reader courts him by sending anonymous love letters.

Izzy Hands x Reader

words: 2760

google docs pages: 4,5

warnings: Oddly enough for something I’ve written, none! Is this lowkey corny though? Yes, maybe that needs a warning of its own. 

opening: Your desperate earlier attempts at courting the first mate of Blackbeard’s had gone unnoticed, so you resort to writing love letters. Maybe he’d realise if it was laid flat in front of his eyes. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! It’s been a good while since I’ve written anything fluff-like, so apologies if that affected the quality of this :”D! Requests are still open <3! (please someone request something sword-fight related, or I’ll have to think of something myself)

 “Not worth your time”

How many attempts would it take for him to realise what you were trying to say? How did he not notice even when you thought you couldn’t get any more obvious? Or was he just on purpose ignoring you? Were thoughts that had been on your mind for a long time now.

Izzy Hands, the first mate of Blackbeard's, was either too focused on his work and just didn’t realise or was ignoring your confessions on purpose. Of which you hoped wasn't the latter. For the past few weeks you had tried almost everything you could have thought of, not counting in just telling him how you felt. The only reason why that card hadn’t been used yet was because you didn’t know if he cared for you in the same way. You wouldn’t be able to bear the heartbreak of confessing to him and being rejected would cause. Not to even mention having to be on the same ship with him after, you’d rather take a jolly boat and leave at that point. So you had resorted to hinting your feelings for him through actions, which had proven to be unsuccessful. 

As long as you’d known the man, he had never been too good at expressing his feelings. If he was upset, he might have said something about it to you and then disappear for a moment to resolve whatever was going on in his mind. Never had you seen him cry, but you expected he was just the kind of person to cry whenever he was alone. But even when he was happy, he’d show it through very small actions, sometimes not even his expression changing. You weren’t even sure if the man had ever been in love. Maybe he just didn’t know how to express that either? Or perhaps that was you hoping the earlier attempts of getting him to realise how you felt hadn’t been for nothing. 

Either way, it was clear you’d chosen a man who was harder to read than a map drawn by a toddler. He hadn’t and seemingly wasn’t going to notice you flirting with him, but maybe something else would work. Flirting had never been your strong suit anyway, you’d always been much more skilled with written down words. It was easier to think of what to say and carefully choose the right words, which you couldn’t do while spending time with the first mate. And perhaps you could blame yourself even for the bad success, knowing your flirting and how it usually played out. So your plan was clear. To start writing anonymous love letters to him, and slowly make it as obvious as possible. 

To be quite honest, you weren’t so sure if the man even knew how to read. Though, surely for one to become a first mate they had to know how to read, right? Or maybe that was just your last hope speaking. You’d seen first mates get chosen and there wasn’t a job application that came first. The person who was thought out to be the most experienced with piracy was chosen ultimately over the skill of literacy. Though, Stede appreciated the skill understandably more than the seadogs you’d sailed with for most of the time. 

Literacy had been the reason why you and Lucius started talking as well. You’d started to take turns writing notes for Stede after you had gained his trust. Due to this new formed relationship with the man, you would sometimes talk to him about Izzy. From what you collected, Lucius wasn’t the biggest fan of him, understandably. But Lucius hadn’t been against you trying to court the man either, he’d even encouraged you to write the letters. Perhaps he was hoping you’d succeed and manage to change Izzy for the better somehow. But that was thinking too far ahead. 

Firstly you had to figure out what to write in the first letter. It ended up not being anything too obvious, but you made sure to put an emphasis on the parts where you mentioned admiring his seamanship skills. Not leaving a signature or anything that could retrace the letter back to you, you folded it nicely and sneaked it to his quarters by sliding it under his door. It was only at that point that you truly realised how silly this was for an adult to do. Though, you forgave yourself for the sake of this being the last trick you had up your sleeve. 

The evening passed quickly, night cooling down the air and bringing a slight fog with it to hug the vessel sailing across the water gently. You’d taken the lookout shift for tonight, knowing you wouldn't have been able to sleep. It also gave you time to write the second letter, knowing there was almost never any activity on the sea in a weather like this. It was going to be a calm night.

You sat down in the crowsnest, leaning over slightly as your pencil danced on the small piece of paper. The contents of the letter may have been more flirty than intended because of your sleep deprived mind, but you scrapped none of it. Letting your thoughts run as they pleased, the second letter was finished with a small heart as a signature at the bottom. You folded it nicely like the first letter, using a drop of wax from the candle you had up in the crowsnest to seal the paper. 

The sky began to change colour when the sun decided to make its return. You climbed down, back on the main deck. You’d walk by Izzy’s door before going to sleep and slip the letter under his door like before. Most of the crew was still asleep, it only being the very early hours of the morning. Pure luck for you, since no one would notice you sneaking around like this. 

Izzy was one to wake up rather early, so you didn’t dare to make any noise. At times it felt like you were holding your breath just in case that would alert him, though thinking about it after, it sounded silly. But nevertheless, you’d gotten the letter delivered and made an escape for it. All the way to one of the free hammocks where you got comfy and fell asleep rather quickly. 

After that you took a break from writing the letters. Not a long one, but you had to think the third letter through more thoroughly. You’d sat down with Lucius, and chatted with him about it. As far as Izzy knew, the two of you were the only ones who could write and practised it actively. So the first mate didn’t have many options on who could have been writing the letters. “Lucius, I need to ask something from you.” You started, knowing he might just do this for you. The ‘mhm?’ he gave was all you needed as a sign to explain further. “Give the third letter to him.” You said quickly, biting your inner lip. The plan was to ask Lucius to give the letter, and when Izzy would eventually realise it wasn’t written by Lucius, he wouldn’t have many options left. Lucius stared at you for a moment before a faint smirk formed on his face. “Alright.” He said, raising his eyebrows in a knowing manner. It seemed he didn’t need a further explanation, the plan being clear to him.

After the conversation, you got to writing. This letter was more bold, more straight forward. You allowed your handwriting to differ more clearly from Lucius’, making it more obvious it wasn’t from the other man. Half way through writing, you leaned back on the chair. Was this even going to work? You had continued talking to Izzy after the first two, but he didn’t seem like he was even trying to figure out who was sending the letters. Or maybe you’d just missed his eyes wandering across the deck when he thought no one was looking, desperate to find who’d written words like that of him. Who in the crew would ever think of such things of someone like him?

You shook your head, resuming back to the letter. Writing the third one took the longest, only because it had all your thoughts in it. A proper confession with an ‘I love you’ at the end. You thought of signing this one, but then decided against it. He was witty enough to figure out it was you based on the letter, and if he felt the same he’d come looking for you. Hopefully.

That same evening you delivered the letter to Lucius, almost scared to let go of it. With a swift wink Lucius took it, and promised to give it to the first mate just before the crew usually went to rest. That way you’d be up in the crowsnest, the look-out shift taken by you yet again, and you could get some fresh air before having to face the first mate. 

Time passed, the tension within your body building up. With stiff steps you got up to the crowsnest and slid against the mast to sit down. A deep breath. Lucius would have given Izzy the letter around this time. There was no turning back now, but there was also still that part of you that didn’t even want to. You’d waited for long enough, and this was like ripping off a bandaid, only you didn’t know what the damage under would be. If any. 

Lucius had found Izzy, handing the letter to the man with that same amused grin on his face which he had tried to hide. “What is this?” Izzy asked, furrowing his brows slightly as he accepted the piece of paper. “Have you-?” He was about to add, but Lucius was already turning away to leave. “That is for you to figure out.” He said, before leaving Izzy alone with his thoughts and the letter. His eyes stared blankly at the folded paper, carefully opening it for reading. 

The first mate’s eyes scanned through the words, his free hand going slightly over his mouth. This letter had far more passion in it than the other two mysterious letters he’d received. But yet it was written tenderly with care, still anonymous. Lucius had been such an asshole about revealing who it was. Of course he had thought it must have been Lucius playing with him from the start, but after the second letter it had gotten far too advanced to be just a crude joke anymore, he hoped. But there weren’t many literate men on the ship.

Izzy took the time to find Stede’s diary in his hands, scrolling through it just enough to be able to compare the two handwritings together. He knew you and Lucus took turns writing notes for Stede, and to his luck he was able to match the styles. Lucius’ handwriting looked different from the one used in the letter, but the other style in the diary matched the one in the letter’s almost perfectly. It was you, had been this whole time.

Izzy slammed the book shut, folding the letter into his pocket and making his way to the main deck where he knew you were. Just today he’d told you to skip and leave the shift for him, but you'd strongly insisted against it, saying you didn’t feel tired due to the full moon. He’d wanted to ask what you were talking about, the time of the moon being full still at minimum a week away, but you had left before he was able to. But now he knew why you’d left so abruptly. 

Izzy appeared on the main deck, gaze searching for you. The deck itself was empty, it wasn’t yet so dark that he couldn’t see as much. The sky was clear of clouds, no fog in sight. No lookout in this weather would be on deck, you must have been in the crowsnest. His gaze travelled up, seeing the faint light of a candle up in the mast. “Aye!” He called out, voice keyed up. He hadn’t even thought of what to say, just wanting to know why you thought such things of him, still in the belief it must have been a bad joke being played on him. 

Izzy’s voice made your heart skip a beat, making you tense. He’d figured it out, of course he had. You swallowed, finding your mouth dry and jaw tense. “Yeah?” You called back, frozen in place. It didn’t take long for the man to reply. “Come on down here!” Another hard swallow. You should have just jumped over the gunwale earlier or left on a jolly boat, this was terrifying. “In a moment!” Your voice wavered as you got up and started climbing down, through the lubber’s hole, towards the main deck. 

It felt like the wooden flooring was lava as you stepped on it, finding Izzy standing there. The faint light of a singular lantern giving some light in the otherwise dark environment. You felt like running away as Izzy pulled the latest letter from his pocket. “Did you..write these?” He asked, breaking the silence which had been creeping its way between the two of you. You hadn’t even realised the force you’d been biting your inner lip at, before now. “I- Yes.” Your voice betrayed you yet again, the words coming out shaky. Almost like you thought you were in trouble? “So Lucius is off the hook.” Izzy said, the words not making you feel any better. “So I’m still- on the hook?” You asked, a light joke in an attempt to make the nervous sweat back down. “You could say so.” He put the letter back into his pocket. “Surely you don’t fucking think of me in that way?” The first mate added, the tone of his voice giving you the impression of him thinking you were tricking him. 

You wanted to reach out to him, to somehow tell him that you were speaking the truth, but your mouth was still dry. All words that were so beautifully written on the paper, now somehow gone, disappeared into thin air. Or in this case thick air, you felt like you couldn’t bloody breathe. “Izzy, I meant every word.” You said, voice almost so silent you feared it might have gotten lost in the light wind. Though, in truth there only being a cat’s paw on the water. Izzy’s eyes snapped on you, almost dropping the cigarette he’d been about to light. “You-” He started, but you wanted not to hear the things the man thought of himself. “Yes, I love you, you moron.” You allowed yourself to say, taking an awkward step closer to him. “Dear, I’m not worth your time…” He started yet again, which you wanted so desperately to end. He did not see the things you saw in him. “Shut up, please.” You took the cigarette from his hand, daring to look into his eyes, your gaze searching for his answer. Did he feel the same? 

Izzy must have seen the question marks in your eyes, as his expression softened to one of slight worry. “Please, don’t do this to me.” He said, his hand rising but not quite sure what he should do. “Say it.” You pleaded, eyes glued on his. “I do, more than I should. I love you” You bit back a relieved smile, gently placing your free hand on his collar. He didn’t pull away, rather leaned in which you took as a yes to kissing  him. It didn’t last long, the tension of it making you pull away slowly, but not far. His face left with a mix of emotions, of which most he didn’t know how to express. You smiled, turning to light the cigarette with the flame of the lantern. You took a quick drag from it before placing it near the man’s lips. He raised his hand enough to take a hold of the cigarette, mouth left softly agape. “I love you-” He said, voice lost, like he had to repeat the phrase just to make it sound real to himself. You wanted to reply, but a wave hit the bow of the ship. You wouldn't have otherwise reacted, but the moment had caught you off guard, just like the wave. It swayed the ship softly, pushing you against him. There was no real danger of tumbling over, but the first mate still placed his free hand swiftly behind your back, looking rather awkward after. “I know.” You smiled, now knowing saying that was true. Finally you knew he cared for you too, knew that he’d realised how you felt.

AN// It's yet again 4am when I proof read this, so if there are any mistakes I apologise for that!

[wannab-urs]

For the sleepover

Do me a favor

My baby boy, Dieter

Congratulations again babe! I love you!

Thank you bb I love you and I'm really excited about this fic

For the Record

Pairing: Record Shop Owner!Dieter x f!Reader

Summary: You go to a record store looking for something specific and end up on a date with the owner. 

Warnings/Content: Dieter Bravo being Dieter Bravo, excessive name dropping of bands I like, grungy Dieter wearing Doc Martens and covered in tattoos, reader going to a strangers house like an idiot, kissing, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv (this is not real life. Don’t be dumb), one tiny little ass slap, praise, creampie, no use of Y/N, WC: ~2900

Notes: Bravo Records is based on Grimey’s in Nashville, TN which you should absolutely visit if you get the chance. Unfortunately it isn’t owned by Dieter Bravo. Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read and the encouragement <;3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You’re on the hunt for a Replacements' album, Tim, specifically. Ironically, you’re replacing it in your collection, having lost it to your ex boyfriend. Note to self: never combine your record collection with anyone ever again. 

This morning you’d googled “record shops near me” and scrolled past Walmart and Target, no thank you, and settled on Bravo Records. The blurb advertised it as a “Laid-back music shop specializing in vintage, pressed recordings, CDs & cassette tapes,” and mentioned a bookstore in the basement and a consignment shop out back. 

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, you take in the building. There are murals depicting perfect recreations of album covers on the brick walls of the store. If you couldn’t see the brushstrokes when you got up close, you’d think they were somehow printed on. The bright yellow of Metallica’s 72 Seasons, the hands reaching for the sky on Boygenius’ The Record, both newer releases. But there’s also The Clash’s London Calling and The Stooges’ Fun House. 

Whoever owns this place has taste. You step into the shop, eyes immediately drawn to the oddly curved ceiling and the exposed brick walls, covered in posters and random paintings. There are 6 sets of shelves running almost the entire length of the store up to a small clearing in the back. There’s a surprisingly large stage beyond that, someone playing the guitar and reciting poetry, a smattering of people leaned against the shelves, listening. 

“Welcome to Bravo’s,” a deep but cheery voice rings in your ear. You let out a small yelp and turn sharply to face the source. “Oh! Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just downstairs and heard the door… I’m Dieter, by the way.”

You take in the man now standing in front of you. He’s wearing a very faded Nirvana shirt stretched within an inch of its life across his broad chest and shoulders. It probably used to be black, but now it’s a bit gray, and there are holes in the seams of the collar. His wide legged pants are black and flowy, you almost mistake them for a skirt until he leans against the counter and crosses his legs. His Docs are scuffed, clearly worn in, maybe vintage. You trail your eyes back up his body, noting the various tattoos on his hands and arms, all black ink and thick linework. You settle back on his face and find his eyebrows arched over deep brown eyes, plush lips in a pout. His beard is scruffy, patchy, and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed. 

“Find anything you like?” He smirks at you and you suddenly realize you just silently checked him out for a good 10 seconds. Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat. 

“Um… I’m looking for Tim? The album I mean, not the guy, I don’t even know a Tim. By the Replacements? Do you know it?” You sound like an idiot oh god. 

He barely restrains a chuckle, mirth dancing in his eyes, “Yeah, I know it. I only have a first pressing in the original sleeve… is that okay?” He crosses his arms over his chest and holy shit. His biceps are huge. You bite your lip and nod. 

“Yes! Er… um. How much is it?” You wince. There’s no way it’s gonna fit in your pitifully small budget. 

Dieter tilts his head to the side and scrunches his eyebrows up, two lines forming between them. He brings a hand to his unruly hair and tugs. So that’s why he looks like he just got thoroughly fucked. He perks his head up suddenly, almost like he heard your thoughts.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” 

“What?”

“Oh! I mean go out for coffee with me and you can have the record.”

“I can’t just take it for free, Dieter!” 

“Of course you can. I’m the owner. It’s my record. Do you not want to go out with me?” His face scrunches up again and fuck. He’s really cute. 

“Of course I want to go out with you,” you splutter, shocking yourself. 

“It’s settled then. Let’s go!” He turns and walks out the door and you scramble to keep up with him. 

“Now? Don’t you have to run the shop?” 

“Nah, Chrissy can handle it,” he waves his hand like it’s no big deal and heads for the street. “It’s just right down the road.” 

–-

Coffee with Dieter is amazing. He orders a sweet monstrosity, frozen, topped with whipped cream and 3 kinds of syrup. You try to order your favorite drink, but he insists you get the same thing as him. 

“Just trust me!” You’ve literally just met the man, but you think you do trust him. There’s just something about him. He learns your name when you give it to the barista and you apologize profusely for being too flustered to properly introduce yourself. 

He just laughs and guides you to a pair of armchairs in the corner, kicking off his boots to reveal mismatched socks – one a dark purple tall sock with embroidered grapes on it, the other an ankle sock with a print of Starry Night on it – and settles cross legged into the chair. You tell him you like his socks. 

He asks you about what you do for work, where you’re from, what your favorite movies are, an endlessly easy and flowing conversation, peppering in his own answers and arguing with you when you tell him that Judd Apatow movie about making a movie during covid was awful. He asks you what your holy grail album is, the one you’d kill to have in your collection. You don’t even have to think about it.

“The Velvet Underground and Nico, original pressing, with the sticker still on it. I’ll never be able to afford it though. I’ve never even seen one in real life.”

“Do you want to?” He looks at you with a shit eating grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“What? Want to see one in real life? I mean… yeah?” 

“Let’s go then!” He jumps up, pulling his boots back on and heading for the door. You’re again hustling to keep up with him. You follow him out onto the sidewalk. 

“Dieter! Go where?” 

“To my house!” You grab his arm and pull him to a stop. 

“Why are we going to your house?” You’re exasperated.

“To show you the record. You wanted to see it right?” 

“You do not have it. Dieter, there’s no way… One of them just sold for 25k.”

“I do have it. My dad bought it when it came out and now it’s mine.” He takes off walking again, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. 

“Is this some sort of ploy to get me to go home with you? You could have just asked.” 

“I know! I mean… fuck. I’m being serious. I have the record upstairs.” He suddenly comes to a stop in front of an apartment building. “If you want, you can wait here and I’ll bring it down. Just promise not to rob me, yeah?” You huff out a frustrated breath. 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come in with you.” 

His face lights up and he threads his fingers through yours again. It feels nice, holding his hand. He pulls you up the stairs with him and unlocks his door, and you step into his living room. His apartment was clearly supposed to be one of those industrial chic, modern type spaces, but he clearly didn’t care for that style. There are paintings and posters covering every square inch of wall space. “I take it you decorated the shop then?” 

“Yep! I do all the murals too.” Fuck, he can paint too? The concrete floor is covered with rugs of all different shapes, sizes, and textures. There’s a blue couch and some clearly thrifted armchairs off to the left. The right side of the room is absolutely dominated by his record collection. There’s a shelf running the length of the room, standing taller than you and absolutely stuffed with records. On the floor around it are milk crates filled with even more records. 

“Jesus Christ, Dieter, how many records do you have?” You wander over to a crate and start flipping through, finding that he’s organized them by genre. This one is folk punk you notice as you flip through albums by AJJ, Violent Femmes, The Mountain Goats, and more. 

“I genuinely have no idea. I stopped counting back when I was a teenager.” He goes to the shelf, and you decide it must be more organized than it looks because he quickly pulls two albums out and presents them to you. One is the album you asked about in the shop. The other one… 

“Holy shit.” You stare up at him from your crouched position. “Holy fucking shit Dieter you actually have it.”

“I fuckin’ told you! Do you wanna listen to it?” 

“Do I want to listen to it? Are you actually kidding me? Of course I do!!” He grins at you and walks over to his record player beside the couch. He slides the record out of the sleeve gently and places it on the turntable before dropping the needle. You join him on the couch as the first notes of “Sunday Morning” drift into the room. 

“Dieter?” He hums and smiles at you again. “I could kiss you right now. Fuck. Can I kiss you right now?” He looks shocked for a second before taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hard, licking into his mouth. He drags you into his lap, your knees settling on the outsides of his thighs. 

You bury your hands in his wild curls and gently tug on them. He groans into your mouth and trails his hands down your body, pulls you even tighter against him. You can feel him getting hard under you, his soft pants doing little to conceal his arousal. You’re not much better off as his lips leave yours and trail down your jaw, your throat, his teeth catching skin as he goes. When “I’m Waiting for the Man,” starts to play, Dieter brings his hands back to your face and pulls you away from him, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” 

You stare at him, shocked for a moment, and then you laugh so hard you fall sideways off his lap. “You know what, Dieter? Yes. I’d like to have sex with you.” 

“Cool,” he breathes out, turning and settling his body over yours. He presses another kiss to your lips and you tug on his shirt. He pulls back long enough to strip it off and you take yours off too. He lays sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your throat and chest, mumbling praises into your skin as he works your jeans and panties down your thighs. You kick them off as he makes his way down to your core. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life. He’s so fucking gorgeous. All golden skin beautifully covered in black ink. 

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Dieter whispers into the space between your thighs. Your hands fly to his hair as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, immediately closing his lips around it and sucking lightly. Your head falls back and a moan rips from your throat. 

He presses a thick finger into you and it’s fucking bliss. He feels so good already. He curls his finger upwards, swirling his tongue in circles around your clit at the same time. Your hands drop to his shoulders as he adds another finger and starts thrusting them into you, curling on every upstroke into your g-spot. 

“Fuck! Dieter… feels so good. Don’t stop.” 

“Shhh baby, I can’t hear the song.” 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, laughing and on the verge of coming at the same time. He slips his tongue down to join his fingers at your entrance and buries his nose against your clit and you’re gone. The shaking of your body from laughing at him quickly gives over to shuddering as your core tightens around his fingers. You cry out, pure euphoria washing over your whole body. 

“That’s it baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight. Look so pretty coming for me.” Dieter talks you through it until the haze of your orgasm fades. “Here or the bed?” 

“Here. Get in me. Now.” You grab at his hair, pulling his face back up to yours. You kiss your own slick off his lips hungrily as he clumsily shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring out. He slides it through your folds a few times before notching it at your entrance. 

You grab his hips and pull him into you, throwing your head back and arching your hips up into him. “Impatient.” He grumbles it into your neck, but thrusts himself into the hilt, clearly as desperate as you. He barely gives you a chance to adjust before he’s drawing back and thrusting into you again. His breath leaves him in a low growl that has a new gush of slick coating his cock. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him back into you every time he pulls out. His thrusts are shallow from this angle, but he’s slamming into you so hard it doesn’t matter. You slot your lips together, not really kissing, just breathing each other in. 

“Dieter, I’m gonna come again,” you can feel your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper into you. He shifts his angle slightly so that his pelvis grinds against your clit every time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, dragging down to his lower back as your whole body tightens and spasms around him. 

For a moment, as you catch your breath, you think your hearing must have gone out. Dieter is buried to the hilt inside you, torso pressed flush to yours, but you don’t hear the music anymore. “Want me to flip it to the B side?” Oh. He just fucked you for the entire A side of the track and he’s still not done. 

“Yeah sure,” you huff a laugh into his hair. He lifts up, presses a kiss to your lips and pulls out of you with a groan. Your cunt flutters around nothing, missing the feeling of him inside you already. You get a good look at his cock now – thick, uncut, drooling precum and covered in your release. He’s so pretty. 

 He flips the record to the B side and then pushes his pants down the rest of the way, leaving them in a black puddle on the floor. He grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. “Thought I’d get a look at your B side too,” Dieter says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“I think I hate you,” you mumble into the cushions. He just laughs and settles one knee on the couch, his other foot planted on the floor. He taps your ass cheek lightly.

“Up on your knees, pretty girl.” You shift to comply and he settles his hands on your hips, helping you up and burying his cock in you again in one smooth motion. 

“Fuck!” Your arms buckle and you drop to your elbows as he rails you. The new angle is so good it almost hurts. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you into every thrust, punching the breath out of you and turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t tell him what song is playing right now if your life depended on it. All you hear is your own strangled moans and the praises he’s crying out into the air. 

“So fucking beautiful. You’re so tight and wet, fuck. I’m gonna come baby. Can I come in your pretty pussy? Please?” You nearly come again at that. The thought of being full of him. 

“Yes! Yes! Dieter. Come in me. Need it. Please!” He buries himself inside you and stays there and you can actually feel his cock jump inside you, hot spurts of cum filling you up. He curls himself over your back and you both collapse into the couch. 

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him and tucking your back to his chest. He doesn’t pull out of you, just tangles your legs together and wraps his arms around you. You both just lay there in a daze, listening to the rest of the album. When “European Son” fades out and the record starts clicking, Dieter finally slips his softened cock from you. He stands up and puts the record back in its sleeve, filing it back on the shelf. 

“If I go to the bathroom, will you still be here when I get back, or are you gonna steal my record and break my heart?” 

“Of course I’m gonna steal it,” you smile at him, still stretched out on the couch and not really planning on moving any time soon. He rolls his eyes, laughing at you and disappearing into the hallway. 

Maybe combining record collections isn’t completely off the table. If it’s with the right person. 

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Bawigrat

This one is kind of odd in general, but also notable in that it's a mythical creature that has not, to my knowledge, made its way into modern pop culture, but is kind of on one of the upper levels of the metaphorical iceberg for people interested in Medieval Bestiary Trivia just because of its... rather memorable ability. So let's get into it.

If you don't know what this is about, you can check out https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting for an explanation and previous installments.

The art you are about to see is all based on this entry here:

And if you want to get in on this, the current entry up for interpretation is here:

(bit of a long one there)

And without further ado, art for this week is below the cut:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has given us a sort of bovine with recognizably skunk-like features. They note that they focused on giving it an appropriate pose (more details in the linked post), which I think they pulled off well -- I would absolutely believe that this creature is about to fire dung at the viewer.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has a shaggier bovid here, with a notably calm expression. The peace of mind that comes from knowing you have a terrifying defense mechanism? Also we see that the emphasis here is on the fiery nature of their dung-based defense, as shown by the flames at the back there. (And thank you for including alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has done a bit of malicious compliance here. Yes, it has the head and size of a bull, the maned neck of a horse, sure, but otherwise this is clearly a giant bombardier beetle. You know what, that's fair. I like it. I also appreciate that it is, to quote Coolest-Capybara, "seen here incinerating some Stylized Plants." (And thank you for including alt text.)

@pomrania (link to post here) has a bull/horse hybrid thing for us, but notes particularly the distended belly, saying that they figure that whatever kind of internal chemistry is going on here might have externally-visible effects. They also question the "acres" thing, as it seems to imply "a creature which can basically do sniper-range attacks with its poop".

I am thrilled to tell you that it's even worse than that. The phrasing of this entry aside, an acre is technically not a measure of distance, but of area. And this isn't a modern contrivance, it's always been area: the definition of "acre" that our medieval writers would be familiar with is "the amount of land that a man can expect to plow in a single day with the help of oxen". Three acres is, according to a quick conversion on Google, 130,680 square feet / 12,140.6 square meters). So it's not a sniper-like attack, it's blanketing an entire city block (or most of one, depending on your city) in burning fumes & poop.

Implications for the fertilizer industry are, I assume, still under investigation.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) apparently decided to roll with the "three acres" thing and has drawn their Bawigrat... um.. burninating the countryside. Which is very funny to me, as a person of a certain age who grew up on the Internet, but the rest of y'all will have to Google it. Reasons for domesticating the Bawigrat may expand from agricultural to military, though that does seem like a dangerous proposition. (And thank you for including alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) also decided to go with a bombardier beetle, as the animal with the most similar defense mechanism in real life. (This one is also giant; note the banana for scale.) They've made it more unambiguously insectoid, as the "horns" are clearly antennae and the "mane" is a sort of ridged plate. I really like the stylization here and the inclusion of the alchemical symbol. For more information, and a video that shows off the glittery ink used here, check the linked post. (Also thank you for including alt text.)

On to the Aberdeen Bestiary:

Yep, that beast is sure farting fire onto some knights. If you look for other medieval images of it, this is a pretty common way to show its defense mechanism. I think my favorite is this one:

(Bibliothèque Nationale de France, lat. 3630, folio 78r)

Tell me that doesn't look exactly like the face a creature with weaponized flatulence would make.

Anyway, this is the bonnacon.

As mentioned previously, this is a mythical beast that for obvious reasons failed to really catch on in modern pop culture, but remains a favorite in Bestiary Trivia -- any Internet listicle about obscure mythical creatures is almost certain to mention the bonnacon.

Beyond that, I really don't have much to add other than reiterating that I think it would be pretty funny to include attempts to domesticate the bonnacon in your fantasy worldbuilding.

[loopy777]

1/2 I got the paperback version too. I always wanted the hardcover version, but that one came with ridiculously high shipping costs D: Anyway, that's a vast collection you got there. There's some stuff I didn't even know existed, like the unofficial water tribe volumes. From a quick google search, it looks like a fancomic about Zhao? Was it popular back in the day? Then you have stuff I wouldn't have expected you to own, like the Zuko graphic novel, or as I like to call it, the atla manga xD

The 'Water Tribe' comic is, technically, a fan-comic about Zhao, but what distinguishes it is that it's written and drawn by a storyboard artist who actually worked on both AtLA and LoK, and did official comics for AtLA. It's been contradicted by Zhao's cameo in LoK, but the look and feel are IMO the closest you can get to the original animated series, so it goes on the shelf with my official Avatar comics.

I actually got it signed at the same time as the Zuko graphic novel, as Johane Matte and Benjamin Wilgus were sharing a table at NYCC. I had brought my own copy of Zuko's Story and purchased the Zhao comic there, but Wilgus got confused and thought I had purchased everything just then. So the original note hopes that I will enjoy it. But then Matte clarified the matter after I started walking away, so I was called back by Wilgus to get a post-script added with a correction to hoping I enjoyed it. So that's something unique.

Also, I forgot to mention before that Wilgus did a sketch of Cartoon Zuko in it, which is pretty much how everyone was treating the comic at the time- an AtLA prequel manga that for some reason had Zuko and Iroh drawn incorrectly but that's easy to ignore. XD

As for the manga itself, I think it has its ups and down, most of the ups being the bit with the Guru you're going to mention in your second part. It's not something I would recommend to anyone but the serious collector. ;)

Continued:

2/2 I remember liking the interactions between Zuko and the guru in that one. But the thing that surprised me the most was your signed copy of the comics. You mean to tell me that you willingly asked your archnemesis Gene Yang for his autograph? Are you truly Loopy777? xD Regarding the Avatar Legends game, can't you play with your brother? Or is he not an atla fan?

Hey, Yang was sharing the table with Hicks. I may not like his comics, but it would have been super awkward to just bring books for her to sign when most of the line had beloved copies of American Born Chinese with them! XD For the record, I think ABC lives up to the hype, and in fact I've loved all of Yang's original graphic novels that I've read. So I was able to have some pleasant conversations while waiting in that line.

However, one of the people waiting in line with me offered to get the rest of my Yang comics signed for me since she just had a couple of books for each author. I declined, saying I'd be happy just getting the first volumes signed since for me it's more about supporting the author and getting a nice thing for my collection. I did not say I didn't care that much about it that I wanted to bother someone else. XD

But yeah, here's the proof.

As for Avatar Legends, my brother and I find it hard to align our schedules enough for what would have to be a several-hour session, and he's never been much of a serious role-player. It would probably also be kind of weird just to play one-on-one, rather than in a group, as this system especially seems to be about collaborative storytelling. But yes, he's a fan of the original AtLA cartoon, although that hasn't extended to any of the expanded material or even LoK. For him, it's a show he enjoyed, not an obsession. Which is probably a much healthier mental state for this franchise. :P

[anamelessfool]

Valise (AO3)

From my "Domestics" Ficlet Series

GEN Young Secondo (b. 1961) (1969)

(Illustration by Me...Yes, he is supposed to look like Damien from the Omen)

8 year old Secondo is a touring piano prodigy, and his mother supports him every step of the way. An unexpected visitor arrives at the Ministry HQ.

Tags: domestic fluff, Secondo the child prodigy, mother and son relationship, this is why he is so intense, Enjoy my Google Translate Italian, Maybe I should send this to my Therapist, Sorta Sad Fluff Because That's My Brand

First and foremost dedicated to @fishwithtitz once more for asking me about Secondo after reading my Kid Primo stuff.

Ficlet below the cut!

1969

She was always there. Sister Rebecca. His mother. Secondo stole a glance across the top of the piano to the velvety darkness of stage right. He could tell she was there by the soft gleam of her perfectly round glasses. Secondo gave a nod, then refocused himself on the piano keys before him.

This tour season she had planned for him a program highlighting the greats of Chopin’s work He had grown quite a bit since his debut at six, and so he was able to reach more keys with greater accuracy. The theater was packed, the audience on the edge of their seats astounded at how such a young mind could comprehend the complexities of piano performance. He was on tempo and accurate—but then again any trained monkey could be that with enough practice. They were drawn to his surprising sensitivity on the keys, his understanding of drama and atmosphere that went way beyond his years.

Secondo didn't care whether he played in the common room of the Ministry or a packed orpheum in New York City, in both places his brain worked the same. His fingers moved and the sound fell out, a puzzle to massage his brooding mind. They were the soundtrack of the visions he had in his imagination brought on by all the paperbacks he read in the Ministry limousine as he toured up and down New England.

A leviathan of cosmic horror, its impossibly great head rising from the sea.

Moriarty and Sherlock, entangled as they plunged headfirst down the falls.

A corpse’s heart, beating under the floor in defiance of its murderer.

Rough beasts, their hour come at last, slouching towards Bethlehem.

He finished the piece with a flourish, bowing solemnly. His mother was always the first one to applaud.

When they traveled, which was often, she insisted they stay at the finest rooms in the finest hotels. Her businesslike, steely expression was usually enough to ensure their stay there was one of ease and opulence, and she tipped everyone handsomely besides. “Yes, and the room needs to have a phone. It is essential.”

“There is a time to perform and a time to rest,” she told her son once. “Commit to each season fully.”

Except it seemed like she never truly rested. The Personal Assistant to Mother Imperator rarely does. They would have a meal in the hotel suite, or go to a play or opera performance in each city they visited, but she was always peering into her datebook or calling the Ministry in the theater phonebooth during intermissions. Secondo would hold her drink while she made plans and kept appointments across the world.

Back at the hotel, the calls and note taking would continue, this time on the elegant historical phone of the penthouse, at least until she felt everything was laid out well enough before going to bed.

“No, it's not possible, but you have to make it work.” Click. Her datebook would snap open, and she'd dial the rotary phone again for another check in. Whirrrr, whirrr, whirrr.

“Nihil will be on tour the fifteenth through the second. Yes, the venues are all approved.” Click. Snap. Whirrr, whirr, whirrr.

Then she would pull out an array of languages. A full half hour conversation in Italian. Three requests in Portuguese, a demand in Spanish from another caller across the world. A stilted yet firm discussion in broken German (she struggled with that one, but it was on her list).

Secondo, still warm from his bath, would close his eyes in the other bed. There was the soft murmuring of phone call after phone call. The efficient scratching of a fountain pen. The impatient tapping of her fingernails across the desk. She would turn to check on him and through his eyelashes he saw once more the gleam of her spectacles, the white gold glitter of the smart brooch at her throat. He started to drift off to sleep to the quiet efficient sounds of his mother at work.

“Yes, I'm away now. Our tour is going well. My son and I are having a lovely time. Yes, he is doing so well. Talented through and through.”

***

“And what brooch shall I wear today, boy?” She would ask him each day, after putting up her hair and putting away her ivory combs. Secondo would peer across the open jewelry case, the finery enclosed and separated with black velvet dividers, a stable of jewels. He would pick one and hand it to her. She never refused his selection.

“How is my watch today, boy?” Would be the next thing she would ask about. Secondo would already be prepared with it. It was a thin ladies wristwatch over forty years old and still pristine. It was a big moment for him when he was allowed to take care of it. He would make sure it was wound each day, opening the back to see the small gears whirring smoothly like the action of a song bird's heart. He would polish the white gold surface, check the fittings on the square cut sapphires. Under his care he wanted it to run for another four hundred years.

“We are going back home today,” she said. “The tour is over. The car is picking us up at the front in an hour. Is everything accounted for, boy?”

Secondo inspected the entire jewelry case, making sure all was there. He even considered the secret panel underneath, where a few hundred dollar bills were stored. He nodded solemnly, the most dutiful little butler she'd ever employed.

Secondo was the only one allowed to carry her travel case of jewelry. It was a small valise of ostrich leather with engraved brass to protect the corners. He was the only other one who knew the combination. When they traveled he never let his hand leave the handle. He had once seen a spy movie where a man had a handcuff and chain attached to a secret spy suitcase, and that really stirred his imagination.

I'm going to protect these, Secondo would think, and the idea of fighting off bandits and thieves with his teeth and fists would send a thrill through his little body. I'm going to defend these with my life.

***

Secondo stared out the window of the Ministry limousine, watching the ascent of the car into the canopy of old growth as they returned home. When there was nothing to say he and his mother Rebecca chose to say nothing. They sat in a silence that was comfortable to them, the soft scratching of her pen in her little datebook lulling him into calm.

Rebecca closed the book with a business-like click, elegantly stowing it in her coat breast pocket. Secondo watched the little flash of red shagreen vanish into the black wool.

“Boy.” Rebecca’s face showed nothing. She peered at him with a corvid intensity, then leaned forward, her strong nose mere inches from his face. An eyebrow twitched exactly once. “What do we have here?”

Second stared back with an equal level of stoicism, although there was the slight fluttering of anticipation behind his ribs. His mother reached out by the side of his head, feigning dramatic surprise. “Look!” She hissed. A wrapped caramel miraculously appeared from his ear, and she solemnly placed it in his hands. “Don't I tell you to wash your ears, boy?” She teased.

At that, Secondo smiled broadly, unwrapping and savoring the treat. Rebecca gave her son's knee a single pat. “Excellent work once again, my Secondo. I would not expect anything less.”

“Will we go again next year?” He asked.

“If you want,” she said.

“Europe?”

Rebecca frowned. “Not until you're older. These little tours are too much as it is on you. I know you enjoy the spotlight, boy, but you do have the rest of your life to stand under it.”

Secondo tightened his grip on the handle of her jewelry valise, glowering at the ridges of the leather seat across from him. “Why can't I be old enough right now?”

“Secondo—” and he snapped bolt upright, looking into her eyes. She used his name mostly when he was in trouble. She pulled off her glasses and began to clean them with a cloth from her jacket. The thick glasses concealed the tired wrinkles under her blue eyes. “Great men are good boys first. If you're going to be Papa Emeritus, you need to start now. And you are on the path. One step at a time.”

“But Nihil…” Secondo found it hard to understand how his proper mother ever spent a moment enjoying the presence of his freewheeling bohemian father. He suspected Rebecca felt the same.

Rebecca replaced her glasses. “I said that you are going to be a great man, Secondo.”

As the limo pulled into the circular driveway Secondo noticed two figures and some luggage standing under the front portico. Rebecca looked unusually puzzled as she helped her son out of the vehicle. One of the figures was a tall man in a very opulent fur-lined cape. He had the headwear and glittering grucifix that announced his station as a Cardinal, although he was not anyone Secondo had ever seen before. The second figure was much smaller and shyly stood behind the visitor. He was so small and hidden that Secondo assumed he was some sort of pet.

“Sister Rebecca, buon Giorno.” The Cardinal’s voice was merry, sing-songy. Foreign. “They had said you are one I will be needing a seeing, yes?” He bowed his great graying head. “I am Cardinal Raphael, sono di Milano.”

“Parlo fluentemente l'italiano, Excellenze,” said Rebecca. “How can I help you.”

Raphael’s shoulders lowered in a moment of relief. “Dov'è il Papa Emeritus questo pomeriggio? Sono qui per Sua Eccellenza.”

“è fuori. in questo momento è a San Francisco.”

“Ah, si, si…”

The two adults chattered on the step. Secondo held his mother’s hand as he observed the other visitor beside the Italian, who was slowly inching into view.

Holding onto the Cardinal’s belt end was a very small figure, bundled up. Above the mountain of his knit scarf and below the too-big beret, little cat-like eyes sparkled. It was a boy about half Secondo’s age, or younger. He had a cardboard suitcase on which a child drew a cartoon flower.

“Shall we go inside?” Rebecca finished the conversation. “You did not come all this way to stand on these steps. Come.”

A few moments later and Rebecca offered the visitors a seat at the sofa of a receiving room. She smiled as the adults settled in. Secondo took a seat in a nearby armchair, still holding the precious valise in his hand. The new boy struggled a bit with getting up onto the couch but sat there obediently, swinging his legs.

“Now,” Rebecca said, done with the pleasantries. “Why have you come all this way today, Cardinal.”

Cardinal Raphael swept out his hand. “Questo è il figlio di Papa Emeritus.” The little boy beside the cardinal blinked his eyes wide, checking in with his mentor. The Cardinal raised his bushy eyebrows, gesturing slightly with his hands. The boy screwed up his face in an attempt at nobility and bobbed his head slightly in a bow.

Rebecca’s mouth was now a thin line. “Oh? Is that so?”

“The em…his Eminence’s tour of Italy was er…in the 1964 and the 1965.”

“It most certainly was,” replied Rebecca. Her hand imperceptibly clenched the edge of her sofa chair. “I planned every last detail.”

“Perhaps not,” replied the Cardinal with a good natured chuckle, but upon seeing Rebecca’s icy expression he swallowed his own. Time crawled as she stared into him, tapping her fingers on her chair. If a sinkhole ripped open beneath the Cardinal's feet dropping him into the depths of the planet, he would thank Satan for the opportunity.

Rebecca solemnly pulled off her glasses and rested them on the side table. She arranged the datebook and fountain pen beside them, and rose to her feet. “Cardinale, mi scuso.”

She backed away elegantly, opening the parlor doors behind her and slipping inside. The Cardinal seemed to be a decently friendly man, since he attempted to break the tense silence by leaning over to address Secondo. “So eh, you….baseball?”

There was a shattering sound against a wall in the parlor. It sounded like a plate falling to pieces. Afterwards there came a great toppling noise of wood on wood, a pop and crack of carpentry destroyed under a foot. Then a wrathful scream was drowned out by the rushing, creaking crash of something large sliding to the floor. The tinkling of glass and a ceramic explosion suggested the victim to be an entire hutch of dinnerware.

The plates on the floor settled and Rebecca once more emerged, softly closing the door behind her and returning to her seat. Her face was as calm as it always was. She brought her items into her hands, writing something quickly in her book, then replacing in her jacket. “Secondo, I'm not sure if I want to buy your father a suitcase or a coffin.”

Cardinal Raphael shook his head and chuckled, but immediately recoiled once more at the glare thrown at him across the room.

The conversation became low, almost silent, the Cardinal gesturing with his hands as if he were a fencing opponent. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Rebecca, who snatched it from his hands and glared at the words.

Secondo observed the little boy who was smiling to himself and admiring the carved wood paneling in the opulent receiving room. The boy noticed Secondo and presented him with a friendly mischievous grin.

Secondo frowned suspiciously back. He pulled the jewelry valise even closer to his chest.

The hushed conversation continued around them. Secondo had no idea what they were saying, but he attempted to understand the small snippets he heard.

Ci siamo presi cura di loro... quattro anni... torre della cattedrale... suicidio... è solo…

“Fine,” Rebecca said, neatly folding the note. She glanced over to Secondo, then back to her guests. She pointed at the new boy. “Stai qui per favore.”

The cardinal patted his young ward to his feet.

Rebecca leaned forward, staring into the little boy standing in front of her. Light reflected across her perfectly round spectacles, concealing her eyes and transforming her into some sort of suspicious owl, an inhuman statue. “Sei un bravo maschietto? Sei un maschietto obbediente?”

The boy winced, perhaps confused by the question. He collected himself and nodded.

“Lavorerai?”

Again he flashed a small face of concern. But he gave her one last determined nod.

“Very well,” Rebecca sighed. She leaned back in the chair and removed her glasses. There were a few beats of silence, the nun gathering her thoughts and tidying her mind from the previous moment’s sudden earthquake. She gestured from her son to the little visitor. “Secondo, this…I suppose then that this is Terzo,” she said. “Your…half-brother.”

My AO3 | Tumblr Fic List | My Obsessive Ghost AU Series aka My Flavor of Insanity

Please comment and reblog! Thank you.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Three (Part 3)

When Marnie takes me back to the booth, there are even more people there than before. A crowd of hipsters have joined us, all looking like members of Vampire Weekend, and I scoot in next to one of them; a mousy haired boy with glasses called Stephen, who asks me what I want to drink, and then has no issue with ordering one of the lewdly named cocktails for me. 

“So you’re also an artist?” He wants to know. 

“Yeah I’m doing art and design. Hoping to get a bachelors in Illustration.”

“Illustration like books?”

“Yeah kinda. Sometimes.” My drink arrives with a flourish, the waiter making a big show of presenting it to me by lifting a glass dome from the top of it, letting a cloud of dry ice waft onto the table. It’s all very over dramatic and frankly embarrassing, and everyone makes noises like they’re dead impressed, but I just snatch it up and take a mouthful. I’m still feeling so rattled from seeing Jen that even my eyes are having a hard time focusing. 

Stephen is talking about the illustrations in some book from his childhood, but as he’s talking to me I kind of zone out and chew on the end of my straw, trying to decide whether or not there’s actually something wrong with me. I make a mental note to anxiety-google my symptoms later, wondering whether a churning stomach and palpitating heart are normal responses to talking to someone you used to know. Jen and I can’t be friends again, I decide. Being around her would up my chances of colliding with Jude Turner tenfold, and I don’t think my body could physically handle the stress of that encounter. 

I realise Stephen is waiting for me to say something, and I shake myself back to life. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, I know it’s loud in here. I was just asking what music you’ve been into lately.”

“Oh, like Sufjan Stevens.” I say immediately, surprising myself, “And I’m getting really into Alabama Shakes”

“You know Alabama Shakes?” He says, impressed, not knowing that I only said that because Shane left his iPod on the coffee table a few days before and when I scrolled through, theirs was one of the names that stuck in my memory. 

“Yes.” I say. “The sound is super unique. I’m drawn to the lyrics, actually I think I’ll try to get tickets to the next gig if they ever come to Dublin.” I sit back and take another drink, watching his face and wondering when on earth I became someone who could bullshit. I’m sure that someone who knew all about the who’s who of music would be able to see right through me, but Stephen doesn’t. He tells me that I seem like a pretty cool girl, and I smile, wishing it was true. 

He tells me that he’s in second year, studying social sciences in some small technology institute outside of town, and then we spend some time discussing that, and him, and where he lives and where he comes from, all things that kind of shape him into a person, rather than some hipster who buys me drinks. Stephen is nice, I decide, in an everyman kind of way. Nothing to get excited about, but there’s nothing especially off-putting about him, save his skinny jeans that are just a tiny bit too skinny. We share three drinks together, and then he asks me if i’ll go out to the smoking area, because he needs a cigarette. 

I’m usually not someone who smokes very much, and even when I do I try to limit it to just one, because I hate just about everything about it except for the social element of continuing the conversation outside with everyone else who’s smoking too. I never understood the appeal of the actual cigarettes though. Especially in a day and age where we know everything there is to know about the harm they do, the myriad of painful, excruciating ways that they’re killing us. Even now, after its ban indoors, the hikes in prices and the horrible, gruesome images on the sides of the packets, it feels like every single college student in this city has a cigarette between their lips as a fashion accessory. I’ve seen people put stickers over the warning labels, and even listened to them have in depth discussions about their favourite ones, Marnie was saying recently that hers is the picture of the man with the hole in his neck. 

I try very hard not to think about the man with the hole in his neck when Stephen is handing me my second cigarette of the night. He’s not smoking what Jen was smoking, and it’s much stronger and much more unpleasant, so much so that I have to stifle a wince while he tells me a story about the time he went to New York on a J1 visa. 

When I stand next to him and look up into his face, I think again about how alright he is. He’s friendly, he’s tall, his outfit is mostly nice, and now that I’ve had three strong cocktails and all of those awful, anxious feelings I had earlier have floated away with the breeze, I start thinking that maybe I could try out some light flirtation on him. 

“Have you got a girlfriend?” Is what comes spilling out of me though, and I wish I could stuff it right back into me. It must be the least graceful or subtle attempt at flirting there ever was. My face immediately burns up. 

“Um. No.” He says with bewilderment. I realise I have cut him off mid sentence. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” I’m so embarrassed of myself that I can’t meet his eyes anymore.

“Ehm. Well, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” I laugh too loudly and then cover up my mouth. 

When my eyes drift back to him, he’s giving me an amused smile. “Is it funny? Like, the idea of you having a boyfriend or something?”

“Maybe.” I say. “Kind of. Yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, like, I dunno I just don’t really have boyfriends.”

“You’re exploring your options.” He says with a conclusive nod, even though that’s not at all what it is. In fact, I’ve been doing whatever exactly the opposite of exploring my options is; Avoiding all romantic prospects. Wallowing in my room. Fleeing in terror from any and all single men who might want my phone number.

“That’s what college is for anyway.” He goes on. “Like, just seeing who’s available and having fun.” He gives me a suggestive little smile that makes my stomach coil nervously even through my tipsy haze, because he seems to think I’m the queen of sex now. 

“Yeah completely.” Is all I manage. 

“You have lovely eyes.” He says. “They’re a real emerald kind of colour.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, let me have a closer look at them.” He leans down until we’re eyeball to eyeball and he gazes right at me. I can see my own silhouette reflected in his glasses, and think that I look kind of messy, and not in a purposeful, Alexa Chung kind of way at all. More in a three-cocktails, two cigarettes and a resurfacing of a past trauma kind of way.  I smooth down my hair with sweaty palms. 

“You’re extremely pretty.” He tells me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He surges suddenly towards me and pecks me on the lips. It startles me and I jolt backwards. 

“Sorry.” He says with wide panicked eyes. 

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I was misreading the signals.”

“No it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to be one of those weird men.”

“You’re not.” I feel tetchy for some reason. “You can just… you can do it if you want. You can kiss me, I don’t care.”

“That’s romantic.” He says, dripping with sarcasm. 

“Sorry, I just don’t know how to be.”

“It’s fine, we can um… we can just chill out if you want.”

I don’t know why he’s insisting on prolonging the awkwardness when it’s clear to me that neither of us is going to leave the smoking area until we kiss. 

“Kiss me, please.” I say flatly, and his mouth does that porny quirk again. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants.” He says in a voice that makes my hands clench, just as he comes at me and puts his mouth over mine. 

It’s a strange sensation, kissing another person after so much time, and I’ve completely forgotten what it felt like to do it. It’s more real than I remember it being, I’m more aware than I used to be of the way his tongue feels and the sounds our mouths are making. It’s a little bit visceral, but not totally unpleasant. Despite the strong taste of cigarettes on his breath, Stephen’s kissing is fine, there’s nothing wrong with it, but still, it makes me feel almost nothing inside. I hold onto the front of his jumper anyway and I kiss him back, because it feels like he’s helping me to sever the very last connection I have with Jude. He no longer gets to be the last boy who kissed me. Now it’s Stephen. Just plain old Stephen, the social studies student whose surname I don’t even know, and it’s like all in that moment I’m freed. 

“You’re pretty.” He tells me again, gently as he pulls away from me. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“I dunno.” I say vaguely. Men are obsessed with being the very first ones to tell women that they’re attractive, like it’s some gift that they are privileged to bestow upon us. We’re floundering, lost in the world, completely blind to ourselves until some man comes along and lets us know what he thinks about us. I can’t agree with him, say that I know, or I’ve heard it all before, because then he’ll think I’m up myself. It always feels like a trap. And besides, he’s not really saying it because he believes it, it’s just a device to get into my knickers. 

“What are you up to later on?” He wants to know.

“I suppose I’ll just go home.” I say, my heart jumping a little in my chest. 

“Where’s home?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I say, and he grins at me like he thinks I’m just being coy. “I would.” Maybe he really isn’t that bad looking at all. 

“If I tell you where I live then you might show up at my front door.”

“I might, who knows. And would you invite me in?”

I laugh awkwardly, feeling the vibe shifting rapidly into a realm I’m not comfortable with. “Probably not, no.”

“Ah, you art school girls, sure you’re always playing hard to get.”

“I like to stay mysterious.” I step away from him and make moves towards the door. “I’m pretty cold.” I tell him. “Maybe we can go back inside?” 

“Yeah, okay.” He stubs out the butt of the cigarette that he was holding onto the whole time, and we head through the doors. I’m just thinking about how maybe he’s not so bad, and maybe if we spent some time together I could get to like him, when the hot air from the bar hits his glasses and they immediately fog up, and the effect on me is so immediate that I almost have to flinch away from him. The sight of him with fogged up specs is so dorky that I’m instantly repulsed. I watch in horror as he takes them off and wipes them on his jumper. There’s nothing at all attractive about him. What was I thinking?

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say robotically. “But I actually have to leave now.”

“Oh, right now?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realise how late it was, my housemate wanted me to come back and help her with something.” I start walking away immediately, the thought of his kissing me causing a shudder through my entire being.

“Wait, uh, can I have your phone number?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I don’t really give it out to people.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

“I’m just really not in the place for… this right now. It’s not personal.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” He doesn’t get it. He looks downtrodden, and I feel horrible, but I can’t stand there looking at him anymore, so I turn towards the cloakroom and try to collect my things. 

“Hang on.” He calls after me. “Will I ever see you again?” 

Does he think we’re in a romcom? That I’m the Meg Ryan to his Billy Crystal? I have to try really hard not to roll my eyes in front of him as I pass my token over to the cloakroom attendant, my breath shuddering. “No.” I say over my shoulder. “You probably won’t, sorry.” I don’t add the bit about how I was just using him to get over the memory of another person, because that’d make me the bad guy here. 

“Damn. Okay Ellie. Nice to meet you.”

“Right. See you.”

I pull my coat on and walk right out the door into the freezing cold night.

Prev // Next

[nicofics]

hey so uhm I saw you wanted to write sumthing so I decided to tell u this request :3 maybe like.. a lucifer x male, god mc reader that is a son of The goddess Nyx? Nyx is the goddess of night and has ALOT of children. And by alot I mean 1000+. She's also feared by Zeus! Also something I copied off of google -> “Children of Nyx can telekinetically move and transform their shadow constructs. The more constructs moved and the bigger they are, the more energy is drained. Children of Nyx have the ability to create intangible stars, which will light an area for a short time.„ just so you don't have to research for an huge amount of time! So yeah, male god MC/reader that's very wise, the oldest sibling, strict and more or less overly calm, protective and emotionless, lives in the celestial realm. Have fun :3 also make sure to eat and drink well, don't rush yourself and make sure to take all the time you need.

𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞 𝙨𝙚𝙚

𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

summary: you meet a certain demon during the exchange program

notes: i hope you like this!! i tried to get the characteristics in but idk how well i did 😭 im working on some hcs so they should be up by friday!!

you had just come from the celestial realm, though you were certainly not happy about leaving all your siblings behind, you knew to follow your mothers orders; plus, you could take care of yourself, maybe thats why she chose you? anyways. you were standing in the middle of the hall, 8 large demons standing in front of you, you weren’t scared, quite the opposite actually, there were two angels beside you. you had seen them about but you didn’t know much about them. after the biggest demon, lord diavolo, gave you a rundown on how everything was going to work, lucifer escorted you to the house of lamentation.

once you arrived at the large house, lucifer opened the door to you, he hadn’t seemed to stop watching your every movement like a hawk, perhaps he was wary of you? your mother is scary to some. looking around the entrance hall to the house of lamentation you couldn’t help but gawk at just how large it is, you knew how siblings were, and how destructive they could be, but still, this house was like as if it came straight out of a fairy tale

“this is where you’ll be sleeping, mc” lucifer opened a door by the stairs, a big enough room with a tree in the middle, strange, but you didn’t question it, you’ve seen weirder. “thanks” you respond, not showing much emotion while you talk, lucifer was almost taken aback, not expecting you to be so calm about the whole ordeal, luke had been upset, why not you?

“i’ll come get you at dinner, please, get comfortable until then” you gave lucifer a small nod, he then exited the room. while he was gone, you looked around the room, finding clothes that fitted you, a surprisingly comfortable bed and a bookshelf, great, now you can read in your free time

while you lay on your bed, you heard a knock on the door, you quietly walk up, twist the door knob and open it, only to reveal lucifer, again. he seemed to have a strange fascination with you, he wondered why. “dinner will be ready soon, please, let me take you down” “yes, okay” you responded, following lucifer down the grand staircase and into the spectacular dining hall. all the other six brothers were already there, eating their dinner.

lucifer guided you to a seat, handing you a plate and sitting down beside you, he knew of your status, yet still he found himself drawn to you, as if you were pulling him along on a leash. “how are you enjoying it here so far, mc?” he asked, curious of your response, hoping its been good. you gave a small nod, “it’s been fine” you took a bite of the food, it’s nothing like you’ve ever tasted before, but it was good.

[kervl-klear]

what are some inspirations for your artwork?

In addition, I decided to add inspiration for the story as well and I hope you don’t mind. XD

Please also note that there will be spoilers for the media that inspired my work below. \(^^ )✨

———————————————————————

In general

Overall, Stanley parable and The beginner’s guide are the biggest inspirations for me. I incorporated their elements into every single one of my works both visual wise and story wise but the visuals part might be a bit hard to see as they are overpowered by the other inspirations.

Monrah: the construction gear

Character designs: The early draft of the main automata designs was inspired by Drawn and Puppet show series, hence their gothic stream-punk undertone. In their current design, I took extra inspirations from Atomic heart, adding atomic-punk element then modernized the design.

Art direction: Rethink series and Q.U.B.E. 2 are my introduction to Solarpunk aesthetic, the stylish modern scenery decorated with plant look so luxurious and calming yet also very curious and somehow unsettling.

Story: The first Cube movie had always stuck with me, a story about a group of people stuck inside a cube full of trap that can only be identified using mathematics. One of these people use to work with a company associate with this cube but even him had no idea what on earth is going on.

Aeromarine and the horizon

Character designs: For this one, I based the angel designs on runway configurations and decorate them in military ceremonial uniforms I found on Google.

Airac, L-da => Parallel runway

Cardio, Semaphore => Single runway

Qeybec, Kiosk => Open V runway

Navtex, Ifalpa => Intersecting runway

Art direction: The digital watercolor art style I see on the internet, unfortunately I can’t quite pinpoint which artist since I randomly search watercolor artstyle on Google. But the first art of digital watercolor style color that makes me want to apply it to my work is probably the trailer of a gacha game name Mementos Mori on YouTube.

Story: Irresponsible captain Tylor is one of the most interesting comedy series in my opinion and yes, this is fortunately and unfortunately the reason that Emma is a brunette-

Viator Theory

Character designs: Initially the wizards were meant to be magical boys but I scrapped the idea. Still, I draw inspiration from many magical girl animes for their designs.

Polnoch => Sugar sugar rune, hence his witch theme appearance.

Morgen => Princess tutu, hence his white and pink color palette.

Soir => Cardcaptor Sakura, specifically the dress in the first opening of the original series.

Orden => Saint tail, but I don’t know why he retain nothing from her designs.

Mint => Precure, specifically Cure white and Cure egret.

Rito => Tokyo new mew, hence his strawberry and animal motif.

Art direction: The way Jazz Punk use their funky sharp color is a lot of fun and full of personality, and since my wizard are pretty funky themselves. I thought I’d be fitting to apply that to Viator theory.

Story: Tales of phantasia is a product of its time when it comes to writing, I have a lot of personal interpretation on Cress that I ended up applying on Viator theory.

The game introduces Cress to us as a loving hero, the vanilla protagonist who just lost his parents. But every once in a while, he snap and said cruel things. Cress doesn’t let himself grieve so he’s stuck in the anger phase. This lead to him taking action guided by rage, chasing the man who kill his parents through every single timelines then in the end where we actually get to know the man Cress had been hunting down, we find out that Cress is (kinda) the true villain of the story.

Paralogram

Character designs: Noah and Eden start off as ocs for Antichamber and Manifold garden crossover fanfiction. I ended up liking the designs so much I made my own world for them.

Art direction: Also Antichamber and Manifold garden, Manifold garden was also inspired by Antichamber so their art directions are very similar. A clean and sharp edge scenery that constantly play trick on the eyes.

Story: ‘Which’, it’s a short game about solving puzzles while a headless and heartless mannequin stalks or accompanied you depending on your interpretation. At the end of the game you either find her heart or her head and the mannequin will make the final decision whether you’ll live or die.

C2ISTAR

Character designs: Squirrel and Hedgehog and its fandom specifically; Sahbeetle, Stukka and SG. There are many talented artists in the fandom and C2ISTAR start off as SaH OCs but I find the cannon world building to be a bit too restrictive so I ended up making my own settings.

Art direction: Command and conquer: Red alert, I love the cool and professional look of the game.

Story: I base each character on people that I know in real life and plotted the story base on my personal work experience in civil aviation. I exaggerated it using all kind of military actions film as an inspiration mainly MacGyver, a series about a spy who refused to use gun and instead use science and engineering to fend off the bad guy.

Light Effects

Character designs: The main trio designs are heavily inspired by Fire emblem series, they were originally planned to be the gods that appeared in Aeromarine and the Horizon so I incorporate iconic Christian figures into their designs.

Raynor => Alm + Nurse Nitingale

Lennard => Leif + Jean de arc

Arland => Roy + Mother Mary

But I got intrigued with fan interpretation on these characters so I changed the idea into a fan fiction but realized I made too much change to these characters so I revise them into my OCs.

Art direction: I adore the excessive use of intricate metal decorations in Dream chronicle series and since Light effects trio are already cladded in armor, I thought I might as well take the opportunity and tried it out.

Story: Cry of fear inspired me the idea of character coping with their health condition and Fear and Hunger’s penance armor give me the idea for the needle. Light effects story were originally very gritty like both of its inspiration but I’m not good enough of a writer to handle that level of narrative yet so it ended up being so dark that it desensitized every sad scene and make all the suffering in the story meaningless.

Thus I took additional inspiration from True love next door to balance it out and aiming for more of tragicomedy tone.

Binary Stella (in very early and slow development state)

Character designs: Puyo Puyo series, after being fooled by its cutesy artstyle and cheery soundtrack although Schezo’s dialogue concerns me. I dig into some of characters story specifically Lemres followed by Schezo and now I can never look at this series the same way ever again-

Regardless their characters design are so cute that I took Polnoch and Morgen’s scarp first draft and redesigned them with Lemres and Klug as an inspiration.

Art direction: I’ve always want to try the first two Phantasmat games style of shading where they strictly limited the color palette for light and shadow to create coherency in starkingly different environments so I immediately try it on Northlight and Southstar.

Story: Also Puyo puyo series, the amount of insanity hidden in their story is too much to not take inspiration from it-

———————————————————————

Thank you so much for the ask!✨

[lilixxmoon]

ASTROLOGY TEA ☕ REALITY TV #VANDERPUMP RULES

If your like me and your guilty pleasure has been the Bravo Reality TV show Vanderpump Rules since 2012 then you may want to know a bit more about this wild casts astrology signs.

To begin, I always wondered why I got sucked into the drama of this cast but yet I found so many other reality TV shows mundane or too obnoxious to actually be truly invested. Kardashians - nope, Jersey shore - pass, The Bachelor - nah, Real Housewives - Depends on the mood. But Vanderpump? I was addicted.

The show is traditionally been filmed in the Spring to Summer months, where several cast members sun sign birthdays in Cancer have been celebrated over the years. So yes, Cancer is the most common sun sign 🌞 no secret here.

Ariana Madix - Cancer Sun 🌞

Stassi Schroeder - Cancer Sun 🌞

Jax Taylor - Cancer Sun 🌞

Tom Sandoval - Cancer Sun 🌞 More Cancer:

Lisa Vanderpump - Cancer moon 🌙

Rachel Leviss - Mars Cancer

It would be easy to watch this show and think Cancer rules this show. However, the #1 most popular overall zodiac sign placement among cast members from season 1 to 11, is by far *AQUARIUS* NOT CANCER. And its no surprise the few cast members with Zero Aquarius placements are often battling with their airy, flighty, polarizing, and more rebellious costars. 🚨🚨🚨🚨

Despite what Google tells you the infamous Tom Sandoval has had his birthday recorded wrong on various articles but I am confident this is his real birthday as confirmed by Ariana on a TikTok video comment, is July 7, 1982**** NOT 83* effectively making him a Aqua Moon not a Gemini Moon. Tom Sandoval ✅Cancer Sun ✅Aquarius Moon ✅Gemini Mercury ✅Gemini Venus ✅Mars Libra So who are the other cast members with Aquarius placements?

Lala Kent - Is a fellow Aquarius Moon! 🌙

James Kennedy - Aquarius Sun

Jax Taylor - Is another Aquarius Moon!! 🌙

Ally (James new gf) - Aquarius Mercury, Mars, and Venus ....whoa

Kirsten Doute - Aquarius Sun & Aquarius Mercury

Brittany Cartwright - Aquarius Sun & Aquarius Mercury

Ariana Madix - Aquarius Rising

Scheana Shay - Aquarius Jupiter

So who is missing from this major Aquarius & Cancer energy? Possibly consistently feeling disconnected from the rest of the pack.

Katie Maloney - Capricorn Sun, Leo Moon, Capricorn Mercury, Venus Sag, Aries Mars Tom Schwartz - Libra sun, moon, mars, mercury, venus, and Sagittarius mars

However - Tom Schwartz may possibly be a cancer rising according to Ally. If this is true, this effectively makes Katie the clear odd one out in the groups natural dynamic. Forcing her to face more challenges and obstacles with costars. Last note..... If Aquarius is #1, Cancer #2, then what is the third most common zodiac sign on this show? It's VIRGO.

And guess who has all three of these in their chart? Making them easily the brightest star on the show. ARIANA MADIX!! Cancer Sun, Virgo Moon, Aquarius Rising in her big 3! 😲😲😲😲😲Perhaps her fame truly is written in the stars. I am a big fan of Cancer & Aquarius placements so no wonder I was so weirdly drawn to this group of very flawed yet hilariously entertaining human beings.

[viettna]

OMG WAIT MY FRIEND AND I HAD AN ENTIRE DISCUSSION ON THE BIOLOGICAL CATEGORIZATION OF PARANORMAL STUFF lemme go find I don't want to type out everything said nor scroll so far back as to copy paste everything, but I had screenshots saved to google photos so some NOTES instead Vampirism: blood-born condition, supplements blood to reconstruct cells to a superior version that doesn't naturally decay with time, aversion to harsh light as an effect of being more "made of blood" which dries etc Skeleton: a soul in a long decayed body. we did not manage to agree whether the soul was "returned to" the body after it decayed (his point) or if it never left and lowkey had to kind of watch its body decay though that hadnt occured to me yet at the time (my point) Zombie: has a brain, is not going for your head, is drawn to the essence of your soul. That's why it's motor skills suck- it has degraded neuron impulses but no real consciousness to guide it, as opposed to the skeleton

OOH one of the things I said turns out to be, and this IS quoted word for word: "I wish this was Tumblr, this is so the type of thing to go viral on Tumblr" so full circle moment In short: yes AND no. They're conditions, not species. If a fish is infected with vampirism, for example, that vampire fish would not be a mammal, whereas any mamma infected would still be a mammal. A human made infertile by other means would still be a human and mammal, so the live young reasoning is made null, and the reasoning of them not being living animals is, in this universe, a long-standing stigma that is also nullified by it's factual inaacuracy

[olderthannetfic]

Adding to the “why kink” convo:

I have a CNC/rape kink IRL, and also go fucking feral for anything where a man gets sexually tortured and mentally tormented to the point where they can no longer function as people (in fiction only).

I think the CNC/rape definitely just… happened. Like, I was 6 and I would already find myself intrigued by power dynamics and abuse in cartoons or other media I was exposed to. I remember my fave character in any show would be the hottest one that also was powerful and cruel, bonus points if they regularly got other characters bleeding, crying or traumatised.

Also the interest in really extreme stuff. I remember being 6 or 7 and looking up on Google things like bestiality (I did not have the term at the time, just used more clumsy words to find it) and being unable to comprehend why there were no results — obviously it’s illegal, but I was so fucking young that I didn’t even understand what it was really or what my curiosity implied. What I did know is that I was drawn to something painful and forbidden and dirty and extreme. I was reading rapefic from the age of 12. Before that, I was already reading explicit fic from age 10, and I would actively look for rough sex or no-prep anal. I was watching DP and big things shoved into small places from around that time too! I was on pornhub searching for stuff like gangbang, cream pie, rape(which had no results and frustrated me terribly because I still didn’t understand the implications or legalities of what attracted me so much) . And when I finally (finally!) discovered BDSM and got reading up on sadomasochism it’s like a whole world blossomed in front of my eyes. It was amazing and validating and inspiring. And I’m sure if someone were to look into my brain or something maybe they’d find a reason here and there as to why maybe I’m into it, but I still think it just happened. I was born with it and that’s it.

Now, in regards to my whump kink (which is very much focused on men) I do have to agree with that other anon in regards to that sex = violence mentality. As I entered the world of sex, specifically with men (I’m a woman), I was forced to learn this the hard way. Sex is violence, often. And not the fun kind that I wanted to explore, but rather the terrible kind that makes you hate yourself on a visceral level. And I think I developed this men-only-whump kink because, yes, I have a pre-existing interest in sadomasochism, but also because it’s a way to gain control, I guess? And because when the one suffering is a man I am more able to separate myself from that reality — I’m not forced to have flashbacks to when I was sexually assaulted or made to feel unsafe, used, or hollow. I can just enjoy my kink from a distance. Also there’s definitely something that feels very “wrong” in hurting a man in all the ways that women are often hurt, and that feeling excites me as much as it revindicates me.

I also want to note that I would be profoundly distressed by seeing/doing anything remotely violent/non consensual to anybody ever in my RL. Kink can and often does exist within its own parameters, eg. on tv where we know everything’s fake. Or in bed with someone we trust and have explored the scene in detail beforehand. Kink is not (or it shouldn’t be) ever at the expense of other non-consenting human beings.

--

[oxbridge-scribbles]

For Innumerable Stars 2022

Prompt by BloodwingBlackbird for the character group "Farmer Maggot's Dogs & Oromë"

Inspired by the Strength card from the Rider–Waite Tarot deck and an abundance of existential terror. More after the jump.

(Fish's note--Noodle didn't quite finish this note before life intervened but says that the gist of it is here. Having listened to endless moaning about this for the past two months, I can confirm.)

----------------------

I probably intermittently screamed for about half an hour when I saw this character group nestled amongst other (ostensibly) more... approachable groups, but I like to suffer, so I sorrowfully set aside my draft of a M*A*S*H* pastiche set in the Houses of Healing and went on a journey through the gurgling bowels of the internet.

Eventually, I somehow stumbled on the Strength card from the Rider-Waite deck:

"Ah," I said to myself sagely after reading precisely half a Wikipedia article, "Yes."

The Strength card depicts a lion and a woman with a lemniscate (infinity symbol) over her head. Some cards place the woman in a more explicit position of power, while others simply have them cuddling and the like.

Wikipedia says that A. E. Waite says that this card is associated with "power, energy, action, courage, magnanimity; also complete success and honours" while, when reversed, it is associated with "despotism, abuse of power, weakness, discord, sometimes even disgrace."

"Tulkas," I mumbled feverishly, "Melkor. Trees."

Sluggishly, I plumbed Google for some inspiration on Farmer Maggot's dogs. I emerged from that dark road with nothing but their names, which I promptly forgot.

"That lion looks like a hairy dog," I said, "And sure, let's make Oromë genderously ambiguous and worry about everything else later."

Oromë, along with most of the Valar, have always felt a little sinister to me, so the initial plan was to draw Oromë smilingly slitting lion-dog's throat, with the corpses of Nahar and the other two dogs lying around in the foreground. When I proposed this to my dog-loving friend, he stopped just short of attempting to execute me, but it was a near thing.

"But dogs," I pleaded, "Hunting. Death."

"No," he replied.

Defeated, I returned to the internet for inspiration. In the pits of delirium, I stumbled upon this Wikipedia article about Sköll, a wolf that supposedly spends its time chasing the sun.

"Wolves are basically dogs, but hairier," I declared.

From there my fate was sealed. I'm not a fan of hair in general, so Oromë was given a skull to wear, and I made some half-hearted attempts at mushrooms.

As the Strength card is the eighth card in the eight card in the Rider-Waite deck, I had the brilliant idea to substitute an eight-rayed sun for the Roman numerals at the top. Suddenly, I had a draft.

Another early idea I'd had was to show Oromë being hunted by the three dogs, but that didn't seem to fit with the general theme of "Oromë, the magnanimous despot" I was going for, so I nixed it. I did want to have some sort of theme of vengeance, however, so the sköll-dog emerged from a blackened tree, which I imagined to be the withered remains of Laurelin (or even just your run-of-the-mill dead tree) to suggest the role of the Valar in the Darkening.

Time passed. Things got more dramatic. Sköll-dog became a limbless dragon-dog. I became geographically confused, found myself in Japan, and then the sun tragically lost both sunglasses and rays. Lion-dog became problematic. I helpfully forgot Nahar existed.

Eventually, I lost my mind, gave lion-dog a mushroom infection, and decided to digitally burn out the ugliest tree I have ever drawn in my life.

I'm going to take a nap now.

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Wild and Warriors: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell at 3 am

@tortilla-of-courage so you mentioned you’d be interested in my Adoption AU one-shots, and now that things have calmed down in my house a bit I figured I’d post the first one-shot I wrote; the one about Wild and Warriors going for a Taco Bell run. Theoretically, I was going to do a one-shot for each grouping of boys, as an introduction, but I don’t think that’s happening anymore. Either way, here’s the first thing I wrote!

(And, anyone else who would like to be tagged if/when I post more for this AU, let me know here and I’ll make a list or something)

---------------

“anyone know any good substitutes for love and personal fulfilment?”

Warriors sent the tweet without much thought. He didn’t actually care about an answer, he just felt like venting about his most recent break up in a vague way, and thought he was being funny. He could already see Legend rolling his eyes.

His phone dinged a few times, one reply from Twilight, asking why he was up so late (which he’d responded to with the same inquiry, which had Twilight going silent), one from Legend mocking him, one from Hyrule trying to actually help. He was surprised how many of his brothers were up at this hour.

He dropped the phone on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t actually all that tired, probably a consequence of having all afternoon classes and a habit of leaving his work to the last minute. Eh, the first year was supposed to be mostly parties anyways. (Not that Time would ever find out he said that.)

His phone dinged again and he groaned, eying the clock and the small bottle of melatonin next to it. 2:43 am. He should sleep. He didn’t have anything tomorrow, he finished his last final earlier that afternoon, though, so a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

He picked up the phone and woke it up again. He blinked a few times at the new reply.

“crunchwrap supreme from taco bell”

He ignored Twilight yelling at Wild for being up, as apparently Wild did have a final tomorrow still. Not that Wild was paying any more attention.

He snorted, hitting the like button on Wild’s tweet and clicking off his phone. He reached up to stretch, yawning as he did. He eyed the melatonin bottle again. Technically, he didn’t need the supplements to sleep, but with how messed up his sleep schedule was, they did help him knock out when he planned on sleeping at a reasonable hour. This wasn’t a reasonable hour, but sleepiness hadn’t set in yet either.

Before he could decide, his phone lit up with a text notification. He tilted his head back and pointed his phone down to look at instead of dropping his arms.

Gordon Ramsey 2:44 am

lets go

Warriors blinked once. Then again. He unlocked his phone to type back.

what?????? go where?????

A second passed when he got a reply.

taco bell

for your substitute for love

since you got dumped and need something

oops was that too soon

sorry 

Warriors blinked at the screen again. Wild lived twenty minutes away from the university Warriors was attending, and the nearest Taco Bell was no closer. Plus, Time had revoked Wild’s driving privileges after he crashed his bike into the barn and broke both and his arm. There was no way Wild was getting to the university, much less a fast food joint. Especially at this hour.

and how do you plan to do that? You aren’t allowed to drive yet Mr. Broken Arm

you have a care

*car

That was a very good point.

you are suggesting that I drive 20mins outside of town to pick you up, drive another 20mins back into town, then drive around downtown until we find an open taco bell, at 3am on a school night before you have a final?

There was a few seconds pause, just long enough for Warriors to consider that he’d given up on it.

no

we wont be driving all over town

i googled it and found one

its like 10mins form your collage

*from

*college

Warriors considered that.

twilight won’t be happy

only if he finds out

Wild made a very good point.

how do you plan to get out of the house without him noticing?

i have a window war

The response was so immediate, and he was probably sleep deprived enough, that he burst out laughing when it sent.

20mins

He clicked his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing a jacket and his scarf on the way out of his room. He was struggling to shrug them both on at once when he realized his roommate was still up too. There was a tense staredown as their eyes met and they both froze.

Volga broke the standoff by closing his book. “And where are you going at this hour?”

Warriors considered that. “My brother bribed me with food to break him out of the house,”

“At,” he glanced at his watch, “two forty-nine am?”

“Yes,”

The silence was tense.

Volga sighed and opened his book again. “Don’t crash and die, I’d hate to have to get a new roommate when I’ve finally gotten used to you,”

“Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” Warriors joked back, finally getting the fabric to work with him.

“It happened once, and it’s not like you’re any better at cooking!”

“I don’t set what I make on fire, and then freak out and throw it when blowing out that fire doesn’t work,” he grabbed his keys from the dish by the door and waved behind him.

“It happened once, Link!”

“And it’s why we order out now,” he grinned, ducking out the door. “See you later, Volg, be back in an hour or so,”

He could hear Volga’s angry shout through the door, so hurried down the stairs to the ground level as quickly as he could, before Volga woke their neighbor again.

He was still giggling when he got to the parking lot. Volga was just too easy to rile up.

The cool night air woke him up a little more so, and he took a deep breath as he located his car. A hand-me-down vehicle, he inherited it from Time when he was old enough to drive. Mostly this was so he could stop asking everyone else for their cars when he wanted to go somewhere. A little elbow grease however, and no one could tell it was at least 20 years old and not fresh off the lot. He made sure none of his brothers were allowed to drive it, especially after Wild got his bike stuck in a tree, or Legend crashed into a lake, or Twilight picked up drag racing, or Wild got his bike stuck on the roof, or Hyrule lost his car, or Four rolled his truck, or Wild and the barn literally last week. A lot of the crashes in the family came from Wild going ‘oh yeah? Watch this!’ now that he thought about it. It was a miracle he still had the same bike.

The twenty minute drive to the farm was pretty boring, nothing of note really happening.

He turned off his headlights as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Time, up. He shot off a quick text to Wild when he parked.

A window opened and Legend’s head poked out to glare at him. His phone dinged.

Royal Pain 3:12 am

what are you doing here?

He glared back at Legend and typed out a response.

taco bell run

Legend glanced down, presumably at his phone, then back up a Warriors with an incredulous expression.

at 3am????

and if so why are you /here/????

Warriors pointedly looked around the house where Wild emerged from the bushes. Said brother grinned and popped open the passenger door to climb in.

“Hey,” he grinned. His hair was a mess, with at least two visible sticks stuck in it, and he was still in his sleep clothes. Despite this, he seemed fine.

“Legend has us made,” Warriors nodded to their brother, who was still glaring with his head out the window.

Royal Pain 3:15 am

twilight won’t be happy about this

Warriors frowned, trying to shield his phone from Wild as he typed back.

twilight won’t know

Warriors did not like the look in Legend’s eyes as he got the next text.

unless i tell him

Warriors glared up at his brother, working his jaw.

what do you want?

He hated the pleased grin Legend shot him.

the most expensive thing on the menu on your dime

fine

Warriors shoved his phone away with a growl, flipping off the overly smug Legend as he put the car in gear. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“What was that about?” Wild asked.

“We’re buying him food too now,” Warriors growled, flicking back on his headlights.

“Oh, cool,” Wild leaned back into the seat and pulled out his phone. “So the Taco Bell we’re going to only has the drive thru open, and it’s just off main street,”

Warriors nodded, focussing on the road and not that Wild had found the aux cord.

About thirty minutes later, as Wild finally turned down the music to provide directions, he snapped and turned to Warriors mid direction. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

Warriors blinked. “Maybe when we stop, I’m not crashing to sign your cast right now.”

Wild nodded, and pointed across Warriors at the street they had to go down.

They pulled into the drive thru and ordered, then had to wait for the very expensive thing Legend wanted. Warriors turned to Wild as the car idled.

“Do you have a marker?”

Wild blinked at him, then brightened up and offered out a sharpie and his right arm. The cast, under the signatures and well wishes of their family and all of Wild’s friends, was painted in very poorly drawn flames. Warriors raised an eyebrow as he searched for a clear spot to sign.

“Hyrule painted it for me,” Wild explained with a grin.

“Ah,” Warriors hummed as he finally tracked down an empty space by Wild’s elbow.

He scrawled out his name, not much room for anything else, and then handed the capped sharpie back to Wild while he twisted around to accept the food from the drive thru worker.

He shot off a text to Legend to let him know they had his food, alongside an upset emoji. Legend sent him a devil face emoji back. Wild dug through the bag for his food, sharpie stuck in his hair alongside the twigs, which seemed to be multiplying.

Warriors rolled his eyes and pulled back onto the road.

At some point, Wild pulled the wrap out and handed it to Warriors, who ate one handed as he drove. Wild was right about one thing, the wrap did taste very good.

He pulled into the drive of the farmhouse, headlights off, just as he finished off the wrap. He phone dinged the second he put the car in park.

Royal Pain 3:58 am

where’s my food bitch

Warriors looked up to the window where Legend was leaning out and glaring at him.

Wild laughed at the surly look on Legend’s face, climbing out and taking the bag with him. “I’ll feed him,” he promised, grinning. “Thanks for the trip, War!”

“No problem,” Warriors grinned back. “Just make sure you get to bed once you’re inside, so Twi doesn’t suspect in the morning,”

Wild gave him a thumbs up. He shut the door a little too hard, making Warriors wince, and bounced up to throw the bag up to Legend. Legend caught it the second time, when Wild opted to use his not broken arm to toss it, and disappeared inside again. Warriors’ phone dinged again a few seconds later.

Royal Pain 4:00 am

thanks pretty boy

your secret is safe with me

for now

Warriors rolled his eyes and sent him a thumbs up back, then pulled out of the drive again to head back to campus. He was actually starting to feel tired now, so he figured he’d get home and just crash. It’d be like, 4:30 in the morning by then, and he was pretty sure Volga would be asleep. And if he wasn’t, they had a rule that after 4 am until 7 they were allowed to ignore each other, so it’d be fine.

Volga was asleep when Warriors snuck in, passed out in a chair with the book on his chest. Warriors took the sight in, then sighed.

He dropped his keys in the dish, then pulled off his jacket and scarf to hang in his room. He grabbed a bookmark off his shelf and wandered back out to pull the book off of Volga’s chest and set it down so the spine wouldn’t crease. He left Volga like that, however. He didn’t want the books to get damaged, but if Volga was dumb enough to fall asleep in the common room without a blanket, then he deserved what he woke up with.

He was very lucky that Warriors was too tired to find a sharpie.

He fell asleep before remembering to take off his shoes.

(---)

The next morning, so about noon, he was woken by Volga pounding on the door to put his phone on silent.

His phone buzzed on the desk next to him and he pulled it off and up to his head, hitting answer before looking at the contact.

“Hullo?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“Twilight knows,” Legend greeted him.

“What?” Warriors sat up, groaning as his back complained from sleeping on his stomach all night. It took a second for his brain to catch up.

“Twilight knows,” Legend repeated. “Hyrule sold you out, unintentionally, and I can hear him selling you both out to Time,”

Warriors blanched as the words registered. “Oh shit,” he threw himself out of bed, hissing as he realized he slept fully dressed, and scrambled for the things he’d need in order to flee. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes if you get lucky and Wind pulls through, less if not,”

Warriors cursed under his breath as he changed his shirt and tried to make it look like he hadn’t been sleeping in what he was wearing. “Thanks for the heads up, I’d say I owe you but,”

“You’d rather not owe me,”

“Yeah,”

“Look, if you get caught and cave, I go down too. This is self-preservation. Don’t cave and we’re even.”

“Got it, I won’t,”

“You better not,” Legend hissed. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” Warriors nodded, even though Legend couldn’t see him.

He tossed the phone on his dresser as the line went dead and he went about trying to comb through his hair so he looked presentable.

A hard knock on his door came a few seconds later.

“I put my phone on vibrate, Volga!” He shouted through the door. “You can drop it now!”

“Link?”

Warriors paused, then opened the door. Lana, Impa and Artemis waited on the other side, Volga glaring at them and hovering behind them.

Warriors blinked dumbly at them. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi Link! Good morning!” Lana grinned and waved at him.

“It’s noon,” Impa reminded the group, eying Warriors up and down.

“Oh, right,” Lana nodded, then went back to grinning at him. “Good noon, Link!”

He snorted and shook his head to clear it. “Good noon to you too, Lana. Can I ask what you’re all doing here?”

“We were hoping you’d join us for something,” Artemis smiled at him, also looking him over, trying to find whatever Impa had picked up on. “We’re going on a small road trip since all our finals are over, and we were planning on hitting a few different cities over the week,”

“Mhm,” Lana nodded quickly. “We’re leaving today, and are taking no calls until we get back, and we’re camping in the car, which is why we’re using my van, and we were hoping you’d come with us,”

“I’m in,”

The three girls blinked at him. Maybe he answered too fast, but taking no calls, meaning no contact with his family, for a week gave them time to move past this, and he really didn’t want to deal with a lecture from Time. His friends just offered him asylum, whether they knew it or not.

Impa narrowed her eyes. “What happened with your family?” She asked, already onto him.

“Nothing that’s my fault,” he responded, ducking back into his room. “What should I bring with?”

Lana listed off what they figured they’d take and he pulled out a suitcase, nodding along as he started packing. He fired off a text to the group chat as he grabbed his jacket, tossed over one arm, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

World’s Best Captain 11:39 am

Leaving on a road trip with some friends. Be back in a week, but I can’t take calls until I’m back. Don’t kill each other!

He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.

He might have a hellish text backlog when he got back, but it’d be better than the lecture from Time. And besides, he got to spend a week with the best girls he knew.

As far as he was concerned, everything worked out win-win for him.

Wild was right, the crunchwrap supreme from Taco Bell did work wonders in supplying love and personal fulfilment, even if not in the way he meant it.

He made a note to get Wild something as thanks while they were out. Maybe some crash pads. Goddesses knew that his brother needed them.

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 5

Here we are once again!  Check out the #Reality Check Masterlist tag on the bottom if you need the other chapters.  A new masterlist will be created sometime this week! Enjoy! <3 I love you all 3000

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Notes: Y’all are going to lose your minds.  There are no warnings.  I can’t spoil when we’re this close.  Just know that this has been in mind the entire time.  I couldn’t let you all know the entire plot so early on ;) 

Just as you were finishing up breakfast the lights went out.  The only light now was the sun peeking through the windows of the kitchen, illuminating the room with a soft glow.  The bacon was still sizzling in the pan and you groaned.  Suddenly, the water pipe burst in the sink as well, causing water to spray everywhere.  “Can this day get any better?!” You ran over to the water pipes underneath the sink, turning the valves until they shut off completely.  

Water continued to drip from the counters, soaking everything near it.  Just as you were grabbing towels Loki walked in, his eyes still showing signs of sleep in them.  “What happened?  I heard you yelp,” He asked, concerned. 

“The power went out and the water pipe burst.  A great combination if I do say so myself.”  Your voice was laced with sarcasm as Loki brought a few more towels over, covering the floor and stomping on them to soak up the water.  

“Don’t worry about it love, these things happen.” He smiled a little, trying to help you feel better about it.  

“Well, look at it this way,” You said, walking over to the other side of the counter.  The plate of pancakes and bacon sat there, perfectly made, unharmed from the water.  “Fate gave us a break with breakfast.” You grinned, holding up the plate to him.  He laughed lightly and pulled out two smaller plates from the cupboard. 

“A not-so-perfect start to the day, but a start nonetheless.” 

~

You placed the plates in the sink once you were done, completely forgetting that you couldn’t clean them up just yet.  You thought about what you could do and decided it may be best to go see if Wanda or Geraldine were having similar issues.  It would be a chance to get out of the house and find out if the entire neighborhood was having these problems too. 

“Loki, I’m going to go out and see if anyone else is having problems.  It could be better than asking an electrician to come over just yet.” You stated, putting your shoes on.  Loki walked over to you before responding. 

“Alright, stay safe, my love.” He kissed the top of your head.  You smiled at the affection but you were slightly confused. 

“I’m just going out around the neighborhood.  I’ll be alright, I promise,” You laughed a little.  Loki’s concern seemed so out of place for him.  You didn’t remember him ever being that protective of you.  Then again, how long ago would that have been exactly? “What’s got you so worked up lately?” 

“It’s nothing much.  It just feels like so much is changing so quickly.  And it feels like you’re changing with it.  Not-” He quickly stopped himself, “Not in that sense.  I mean, it’s changing you in a way that I’m worried will harm you.”  

“Things may be changing, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing.  It’s good that there’s change.  Maybe it’s something we need here.” You smiled.  “I’ll see you later, hon.”  

You walked out the door and down the street.  Oddly enough, there weren’t many people outside.  Taking a peek into their windows you could see that it was all dark.  Not a single light shone in them, nor did a person walk by.  It was like they were frozen in time.  

As you made your way to Wanda’s house, you noticed Agnes and Vision talking.  It looked like Herb was next to Agnes.  The three of them seemed to having a nice discussion as they laughed about something.  What you found odd, however, was the man standing across the street watching them.  His black hair was slicked back and he was in a suit.  It was Scott.  

You waved over to him and walked across to say hello.  After the ordeal that went down with him yesterday, a part of you was just drawn to him.  You weren’t sure if you wanted to apologize for being rude or find out what he was going on about.  Either way, he noticed you and smiled, breaking your train of thought.  “Y/N, how lovely to see you.”  

“Hey Scott, what’s with the suit?  It’s a Saturday, who goes to work today?” You asked, laughing a little.  He looked down to the ground quickly before meeting your eyes again.  A kind of sadness seemed to loom in his eyes. 

“I had to go into the office today to take care of some work.  The boss apparently decided that I needed to get something done by Monday if I wanted a promotion.  It didn’t take long, but it ended with a meeting so I had to make sure I dressed properly.” 

“The boss needed you on a Saturday?  Well, I can’t say much, except that I feel sorry for you.”  The two of you shared a laugh which she seemed to catch Agnes’ eye momentarily.  You noticed the quick glance she gave the two of you before resuming her discussion.  “Well, aside from that, how are you doing?” 

“Well, I’m... Alright, we can say.  I was actually looking for you, so I’m glad to see you.” He said.  Your head tilted in confusion. 

“Me?  Why were you looking for me?” 

Something in his eyes seemed to change again.  You couldn’t place your finger on the emotion though.  He hesitated before he responded, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully before replying.  It was like he needed to know what the right answer was to a simple question.  “I wanted to check on you.  Gossip spreads around this town faster than you think.  Agnes had already mentioned you running off from the talent show to me.  I wanted to check on you.” 

“Check on me?  Oh, that woman.  She’s so nosy, it drives me up the wall sometimes.  I swear if you ever mentioned what you told me to that woman, she’d let the entire town know in less than sixty seconds,” You shook your head.  He chuckled, nodding in agreement.  

“Yes, I know.  That’s why I trusted you with that information and not her.  However... I wanted to apologize for that.  That was a lot I asked from you in such a short amount of time, especially when we had just met.  Could we start over?” He asked. 

“Absolutely, Scott.  I wouldn’t want anything else.”  You grinned.  

~

“Wanda, are you sure you want to go here?” You asked, looking down at the address she had written down.  She nodded, watching you grab the car keys and pull on a jacket. 

“Vision wanted me to go there.  He wanted me to see it.  Even if he’s not there to see it too.”  She looked down dejectedly.  You brought her into a hug before pulling the address up on Google Maps.  

“Alright, let’s go see this place.” 

The drive itself was quiet, the radio muted as you listened to the directions.  Neither of you spoke a word on the three-hour trip.  It was all the way over in New Jersey, which confused you.  What was so special about this place?  

You drove into a town that seemed run down.  People still lived in it, clearly, as you saw them walk down the cracked pavement following the street.  Some sat down in front of restaurants as others spoke in hushed whispers, clearly confused by the visitors coming to their town.  

You turned down countless streets that all looked the same.  Houses lined up next to each other with busy lawns, filled with weeds and trees that grew to monstrous heights.  Some of the homes didn’t seem to be very well taken care of, leading you to believe they had been abandoned there for years.  “Are you sure this is it?” You asked her once more, breaking the silence. 

“Yes, I’m positive.”  She looked down at a paper that she had finally pulled out ten minutes ago.  You couldn’t look down to see it, but out of the corner of your eye you saw red markings on it.  

“If you’re sure.  Then, this is it.”  You pulled up to an empty lot that sat between houses.  You stopped the car, watching her take a deep breath.  You finally looked at what the paper was.  It was a deed for the land.  The red markings were a heart, with a small message from Vision.  You smiled sadly at the note.  

“Thank you, Y/N.  Thank you for doing this.” She said, her voice failing her towards the end.  You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as she unbuckled.  

“Do you need some time here alone?  I need to go get gas anyway for when we leave.  I can come pick you up in a few minutes.” You offered.  She contemplated it for a minute before finally nodding.  By the downward turns at the corners of her lips you could tell she couldn’t say anything. She got out of the car wordlessly and walked to the center of the lot.  

You drove away, watching her with sad eyes through your mirror.  You knew she needed this moment and you hoped it would only help her move on.  

You drove about a mile outside of town to get gas when you noticed the bright burst of energy behind you.  You could only watch in amazement as the red magic filled the air, creating a huge barrier.  You recognize it immediately as Wanda’s magic.  

Instead of getting gas you got in the car and drove back to Westview, reaching the barrier.  Its magic swirled and the energy radiating from it was warm, almost trying to drag you in with it.  You walked slowly to the barrier, looking for anyone else around.  There wasn’t a single soul.  

You knew you should’ve called someone, anyone, to help you.  You had no idea what this magic would do, but as you pushed your hand through it you knew it was too late.  You were immediately pulled into the barrier and you blacked out.

~

“Y/N, may I ask you a question?” He asked, watching Agnes talk to Vision once again.  You followed his eyes, noticing the strange aura that seemed to float around them.  It looked tense, as if they were about ready to start fighting about something.  

“Of course, what is it?” You asked. 

“Do you remember the time-” He stopped himself.  “Nevermind, it’s not important.” He saw Agnes look over at him, a deadly glare in her eyes.  Whether it was from fear or anger, her eyes seemed to send a chill down his spine involuntarily.  “I should get going.  There is some more business I must take care of and I’m sure you were on your way somewhere too.” 

“Oh, yes!  I was going to see if Wanda or Geraldine had power.  It seems like the power went out in a few parts of the street, so there’s your warning.  You may go back to a dark house!” The two of you shared a laugh. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” He began to walk away as you walked across the street.  Vision and Agnes were tense, so maybe you could break the ice. 

“Hey neighbors, how are you all doing?” You asked.  They turned to you, their faces breaking out in wide smiles.  

“Hi hon, what are you doing all the way over here?” She asked. 

“I wanted to see if Wanda was having any issues with the power as well.  It seems like something knocked out the power down the street.” You smiled.  Agnes nodded understandingly.  

“Unfortunately my house got knocked out too.  I just got it back though, so you may be in luck when you get home,” She turned to Herb once she finished her statement. 

“Well either way, hello Vision, how are you doing?” You asked, turning to him now that Agnes clearly didn’t want to talk anymore.  

“I’m doing just fine, Y/N, thank you for asking.  Well, I could be better.” He said, looking over to the house momentarily. 

“Why’s that?  Something wrong at home?” 

“Well, no not exactly.  Wanda was pregnant and she just had our two sons, Billy and Tommy.” He said it proudly, but then his mood took a turn.  “I’m just not prepared for it.  I’m worried something will go wrong.” 

“Wanda was pregnant?!” Was the first thing to come out of your mouth.  The last time you saw her was just yesterday and she wasn’t showing at all.  How did it happen so quickly? 

“Yes, she was.  It was a surprise to us all, I can assure you of that.  A happy surprise, of course,” He chuckled, trying to ease his worries himself. 

“Oh, don’t start with that Vision.  This will be wonderful!  You two have an even bigger family now.  And you know everyone around here is going to be super supportive of you two the entire time.  We’re all neighbors, we’re here to help whenever you need it.” 

He smiled, looking at the ground.  “Thank you very much, Y/N, it means a lot.  Wanda and I will probably need it every once in a while.  Handling one son would be a handful, but handling twin boys will be a challenge we didn’t expect.” 

“It’s nothing you guys won’t be able to handle, I’m sure.  Is she feeling alright?  Could I go see her?” 

“Oh yes, absolutely.  I’m sure she would be delighted to see you,” He smiled, stepping aside.  “I have to discuss something with Agnes anyway, so I will see you inside.” 

You smiled and nodded, walking into the home.  There you saw Wanda and Geraldine holding the babies.  “Well isn’t this a joyful surprise,” You commented.  Wanda turned around quickly, her eyes lighting up at your presence.  

“Y/N!  Welcome, come in, come in,” She smiled, looking down at Billy in her arms.  “I want you to meet my boys, Billy and Tommy.” 

Geraldine smiled softly and handed Tommy to you.  His eyes were shut but you could tell he looked just like a perfect mix of Wanda and Vision.  He fit in your arms perfectly, snuggled in his blanket.  “They’re beautiful, Wanda.” 

Tommy slowly woke up, his bright eyes staring up at you in curiosity.  You were surprised to see newborns be so active, but what did you know about babies?  Maybe they’re just a little different.  

He stuck one of his arms out of the blanket, pressing his hand up against his eye as he slowly woke up, trying to rub the tiredness out.  He cooed a little and you could see the love in Wanda’s eyes as he did.  “Hey there, little guy,” You smiled, holding up your hand near him.  When you placed your pinky in his hand he immediately grasped it.  It was such a simple act that made your heart skip a beat.  

You giggled and slowly moved your finger away from him.  “Oh, Y/N, could you please go grab something from my bedroom upstairs.  I have a book up there on the shelf.  It’s the second door on the right.  It’s a baby book and I want to know what else to expect from these two,” She said, pointing up the stairs.  

You nodded.  “Of course!  Here, Geraldine, can you take Tommy?” You gave her Tommy and started making your way upstairs.  

You found the door and entered.  It was a simple room.  The bed had a dark frame with white sheets.  The red comforter was tucked in neatly and the pillows were underneath.  The bedside tables had matching lamps, a clock on one side.  To the right you could see a closet hidden by two doors.  A bookshelf stood next to the closet.  That must have been the shelf you needed. 

The bookshelf was littered with different colored books of all sizes.  One was a dictionary, another was a fiction novel, another seemed to be on some sort of philosophy.  It was almost like you could pinpoint whose book was whose.  

The one book stood off to the side.  A baby blue cover, a little binkie on the front.  The title was simply “What to Expect: The First Year.”  It had a small red glow around it, much like the items in the store just yesterday.  You picked the book up and the glow dissipated.  You flipped through the pages lightly while beginning to walk out of the room. 

You stopped in your tracks when you heard a loud crash come from downstairs.  You ran towards the stairs, hiding immediately when you saw the large hole created in the wall.  Wanda stood across from it, the eerie red glow surrounding her hands.  It had to have been Geraldine who had gone flying through the wall.  She wasn’t there anymore and the hole was large enough for a person. 

You watched in amazement as Wanda began moving her hands around, the wall repairing itself.  It was like magic.  The red glow faded from her hands and she straightened out her dress.  She turned back towards the twins.  

To avoid raising suspicion, you began walking down the stairs.  “I found it!” You said, handing the book over to her.  She smiled and thanked you for it, opening the book to a specific chapter.  “Where’s Geraldine?” You asked, looking around innocently. 

“She had to go.  She didn’t belong.”

Oh yeah.  You have to get out of there. 

___________________________________________

Scott walked up to the house, knocking on the door.  He straightened out his suit as he waited for an answer.  This had to be the right house.  No other house was like it on the street.  If it wasn’t, he was about to be in big trouble by the boss.  

Loki opened the door, a gentle smile on his face.  “Hello-” He was immediately cut off as Scott walked in, taking his shirt collar.  He shut the door and slammed Loki up against it.  Loki’s eyes widened at the action.  “What are you doing?” 

A knife was quickly placed against his neck.  Scott glared at the man before him with steely eyes.  “Who are you?” 

“And why are you pretending to be me?” 

.

.

.

.

.

.

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@emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15 @ilovemollyweasley @bookgirlunicorn @chims-kookies @austynparksandpizza @yikesdameron @littleladdty @three-eyed-snail @kymera-casterwill @justsomerandompersonintheworld @followthepastelcloud @11mb0 @carolinesbookworld @from-hel-i-with-love @grimalkynslee @boywivlove @prettysbliss @youreobsessedwithmarvel @th3gl1tt3gram3roff1c1al @luthien-t @lokilove3000 @treblebeth

[thecrenellations]

do you ever just ... read @thatfoolsophie’s Mullet Howl post to yourself? I’m pretty sure that if you open the dictionary to “comic timing,” you’ll find that post and its notes.

Lightly abridged. Art by OP. Transcript below. This is not one of those dramatic readings by a voice actor, I simply know in my gnawed heart that Howl has a mullet.

A post by thatfoolsophie, August 19th, 2020

Google search: when were mullets popular

Result: 1980s

I just had the WORST thought

(I can’t even say it. I’m so sorry)

Notes:

I’m imagining David Bowie as Howl and I can’t unsee it

CURSED

NO

IT’S TRUE

Shut uppp. “He had elaborate blond hair” … absolutely cursed

ENOUGH.  My finger is On the block button

I had to scroll back up to check the url for context and now I have the biggest grinch grin. Yes. Mullet!howl Mullet!howl Mullet!howl

Fuck right off. Fuck right off right now. The subtext here is that this is from a howls moving castle blog and the book was published in the 80s. Meaning OP has just experienced the thought of howl with a mullet and now you have to as well

The reviews are in and they are MIXED to say the least. But I don’t know, it’s kind of a look :)

Yes! There he is! Thank you for talking about this!!! Your drawing is perfect, but as additional data I can offer these picrew Howls I made in May that had mullet options and caused me to Realize the Truth

He’d have a David Bowie mullet and he’d rock it

Man now I’m imagining labyrinth-era David Bowie as Howl and that’s really not a mental image I wanted to have. If I’m cursed with this you need to be too

That is absolutely a real way mullets can look, good mullets are possible, you just have to have the right cut for the right hair and skull combo. That said, I don’t actually think Howl would have had a mullet during canon, unless they were simultaneously popular in Ingary. Judging by Sophie’s professional evaluation of his outfits, Howl very much had his finger on the pulse of Fantasyland’s fashion

I believe he 100% has a mullet! I’ve drawn him with one, though I now regret I didn’t make it MORE dramatic!!

NO! HOWL DOES NOT HAVE A MULLET

He uh. He almost certainly does. Add that to his rugby jacket and he’s 100% business in the front, party in the back

If I was Sophie Hatter I simply would have given him a haircut

Nooooooooooo! NO. I mean it fits all too well, but NO! He’s dumb enough already!

CANON NOW

I’m gonna cry, nooooooooo

He TOTALLY has a mullet!

I was looking through this post and suddenly my boyfriend gasped and said “Lucius Malfoy”

I think you’re on to something here

Don’t. Please don’t

Idk what edition y’all grew up reading but this was the cover of my paper copy. Which is to say, the mullet imagined above is an improvement.

OH NO YEAH THAT’S WORSE

No. Unacceptable

No

Why.

I once read an interview with Diana Wynne Jones where she said she saw the embodiment of Howl on TV one day: young Andre Agassi. Reader, he absolutely had a mullet.