#;;musing: howard (crossings)

[malusrecord]

@coolrpblog @malusrecord @constellationcrowned

[malusrecord]

@coolrpblog

Jack Whitten, Black in Time. 1980.

[auroralwriting]

illicit affairs

chapter three

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

tony's mad, bucky's curious, you're questioning where you belong

warnings: violence, language, small age gap (6~ years), angst, arguing, drinking, overall crime and gang stuff, sort of enemies to lovers

series masterlist

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony spat as he angrily paced around the room. "Some moron paid off Quill and his gang to not fuck up The Avengers!"

"I knew we should've gone Hydra," Rhodey clicked his tongue as he looked up from scrolling on his phone.

Tony shook his head, "When I find the person who did this, I'll fuck them up myself."

Your brother's words made you increasingly nervous. It was you who paid off Quill. At least he didn't snitch that it was you. It still didn't help your nerves to see how upset Tony was.

"It was a bad idea anyways," Clint interrupted. He quickly retracted his words as Tony grabbed his collar, "Only because we should've done it ourselves!"

Bruce sighed, "We can't do anything too rash, otherwise The Asgardians won't help us."

"He's right," Vision confirmed, "They like peace until they're the ones to disrupt it. The minute we cross any lines, they're out of the picure. Bye-bye, Brooklyn."

"Kiddo, what're you thinking?" Tony called to you. You just noticed how you were picking at your skin.

With a shrug, you answered. "I'm just not a fan of all of this."

"Well they're all lying, pompous, pieces of shit." Tony scoffed. "They deserve all of this."

"But why?" You asked. The silence in the room was so much, you could've heard the dust flying around.

Tony pointed to the door, "Get out. Go home."

"But-"

"No! Go the fuck home," Tony yelled as you grabbed your bag and left the small HQ to head back to your apartment, wondering what you's said to make him that angry.

"What's on your mind, Buck?" Steve asked his friend as the two of them sat in the bar. It was always pretty empty during the day. It was the two of them, a couple in the cafe, and Coulson cleaning up.

Bucky shrugged, "Nothin',"

"I know that look, it's not nothing. Come on, I won't judge you." Steve pushed. "Is it about the Stark girl?"

"I just.. don't know how to place her," Bucky admitted. "Stark's such an ass, but she's just-"

"Sweet?" Steve offered.

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, real fuckin' sweet. I mean, she could've got her ass kicked for us last night. I just don't get why she's bein' so nice when Tony's over there brainwashing her."

"I highly doubt he's doing that," Steve mused. "She wasn't around during the fallout. There's a good chance she doesn't even know what all of this is about, or you." Bucky felt his heart drop just a little when Steve added that last part. Truly, he'd never meant for Howard and Maria to get killed. He didn't know it was them transporting millions of dollars in art, otherwise he would've kept his mouth shut. "She really does seem to have a good brain in that head of hers."

"What are you thinking?" Bucky asked, watching as Steve's face twisted into that look he got when he got some brilliant idea.

Steve shrugged, "Maybe we invite her for drinks as a thank you."

"You think Stark-"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks," Steve cut Bucky off abruptly. "She's not his property. Let's give her a choice."

Bucky gave a soft sigh knowing Steve wasn't going to back off his idea. "Ask the others, let's see what they think."

"Already on it, Buck."

How could Tony just kick you out like that?

What could you have said that was so bad that your own brother would kick you out?

The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sprawled out on your couch, a long, deep sigh pouring from your lips. It was only six and it felt like the longest day in the world. Not to mention your sub-group chat without Tony was blowing up your phone. You had to mute it to shut them up. All they were rambling about was if The Guardians idea was really the right one.

Clint had texted you as well. He asked if you knew who called off Quill. It was clear by his tone he already knew it was you. Clint always knew the sneaky things you did without Tony knowing. He kept things quiet. You liked Clint the most.

A strong knock shook you from your thoughts. You weren't expecting anyone, unless maybe Clint came over to question you further since you didn't respond to his texts.

You walked up to the door and opened it, shock filling your body when you saw Steve standing there.

"Steve," You breathed, unsure of what else to say.

"Hey, Stark." Steve gave a soft smile. He looked behind you and into your apartment, reminding you to let him in. You opened the door further and scooted out of his way so he could walk in. "Small place," He commented as he looked around.

"Big enough for one person," You countered, a smile playing at your lips. Steve wasn't here for trouble. "I would ask how you know where I live, but.."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we've all got our connections." He took a seat at the small bar-stool you had at your counter. "Pretty early to be sitting around at home."

You looked at your clothes, glancing down to realize you were in full sweats. "Yeah, Tony and I got in a disagreement today. Kinda spoiled the mood."

"What about?" Steve asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

"It's always something, I don't even know what this one's about." You sighed as you leaned against your wall. "You here to just chat?"

Steve shook his head, "Go get dressed, you're coming out with us tonight."

"Am I?" You asked curiously. "What for?"

"A thank you," Steve explained, "For the other night with Quill and his buddies."

If it was anyone else, you'd think you were getting played. Steve was different, though. He was genuine, he didn't bullshit with his kindness. Maybe your actions had bought you a one-way ticket to Steve's friendship. If that was even what you wanted. Tony would kill you.

"I'll go get dressed." Fuck what Tony thinks.

Steve waited on the stool as you changed in your room. "Where are we going?" You called out to Steve.

"The Grove," Steve replied, his voice loud so you could hear. "It's where we always go." Second time at The Grove, how exciting. "What do you want to drink? I can let Coulson know ahead of time."

You thought for a moment, "I'll do a cosmopolitan!"

You quickly touched up your makeup and walked out of your room, back to Steve who was waiting patiently. "A cosmopolitan, good choice." Steve smiled. "You all ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab a jacket." You said, looking at the muted news on your tv. "Never mind, it's going to be eighty. I won't need that."

"Especially with alcohol in you," Steve joked, opening your door for you. "My bike's outside, you can just ride with me."

You'd actually only ridden on a bike a small amount. Clint had one, but everyone else in the Syndicates had nice cars. It felt thrilling to be on a bike again. It made you feel even better when Steve handed you a helmet to wear. Thrilling but safe!

The Avengers and yourself were definitely a little bit tipsy at this point.

You were sat right in between Wanda and Natasha, who's head was currently on your shoulder to keep her upright as she laughed so hard she was shaking.

"And then he screamed louder than anyone," Natasha paused to wheeze in a breath. "I've ever heard!"

The table erupted in laugher, all besides Sam, who's face was heated while he scoffed. "It isn't that funny."

"No, it really is." Wanda waved him off as she hiccuped in laughter.

The only person not laughing besides Sam was Bucky. He was just oddly smiling to himself, unable to look up from his lap. Clearly the story had made him amused, but he couldn't look up at you.

"I would give all the money in the world to hear that." You admitted as you sipped your drink.

Natasha sat up quickly, "Here, let me try and replicate it for you." She falsettoed her voice and gave the most feminine, soft screech you'd ever heard, causing everyone to laugh once more.

"It did not sound like that," Sam muttered. "I'm too sober for this shit." He waved down Coulson for another one of his drinks.

"Okay, Stark. Give us something, you basically are surrounded by half-men all day. You have to have some funny story." Wanda asked as she set her attention on you.

You felt uneasy with the spotlight now on you. "Uhm," You hesitated. Honestly, you couldn't remember a time that was really funny. You were never invited to those sorts of hangouts. "I don't know."

"What?" Natasha was still smiling, but it was slightly falling as she shook her head. "You have to have something."

"I actually want to circle back to when Sam tried to flirt with that stripper who immediately tried to make him her toddler's daddy." You hoped the reference would side-track the table, which it immediately did as Wanda and Natasha cackled.

The look on Steve's face was telling; he knew exactly what was going on inside your head, and that was scary. You were quick to notice that was the first time Bucky had laid eyes on you, too. You turned your head to Wanda as she told the story, Sam trying his best to shut her up as she spoke.

Steve's face turned to stone, but inside, he was going over a thousand different thoughts. The first step to his new plan was getting Bucky and yourself acquainted.

"Bucky, do you think you could take Stark home for me?"

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Just a Nudge in the Right Direction ~Barbara Howard xFem Younger!Teacher!Reader

Summary— Reader is younger and a newer teacher at Abbott. She’s been harboring a liking for Barbara. What happens when she finally tells the older woman? Anon request— 🥸—Hey!! ❤️❤️ I love your fics so much! These are just some ideas I had for! Feel free to mix it up if you want.! 33 10 5 Barbara Howard × reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#5. “Shut up and kiss me already”

#10. “Well… I didn’t expect that…”

#33. “Don’t do that... Let me see you.”

Warnings: age gap (all legal), kissing, confessions of feelings, light teasing, light flustering, light insecurity, happy endings, etc.

Enjoy (;

Monday’s always brought chaos to Abott Elementary. The sound of paper clattering to the teacher lounge’s floor, had you in the room in seconds. You quickly helped the poised kindergarten teacher in picking up the fallen pile of papers.

“Thank you, Sweet girl…” Barbara breathed out with a smile.

“Of Course, Ms. Howard!” You exclaimed lightly.

You heart always fluttered when she had a pet name for you…

“I don’t usually have people take care of me…” the older woman mused aloud.

“Don’t worry about it” you quipped, a big smile on your face.

Barbara then walked off with a nod, leaning you in the break room to daydream about the woman. Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by a chuckle across the room. You turned around and found, Melissa smirking and chuckling to herself.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, sweet cakes.” The redhead chuckled, “When are you going to tell Barb…?” She teased.

You went red in the face and quickly looked away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you mumbled, crossing your arms in defense.

“Uh huh, totally…” the woman sarcastically replied, “You know you better tell her before someone else does…”

You rolled your eyes lightly and went back to your classroom, your face bright red.

You thought about Melissa’s comments throughout the day. And the redhead did have a point. You didn’t want someone else telling Barbara how you felt about her.

You had to tell the woman…

The thought made shivers run down your spine. You took a deep breath and resumed your work.

By the end of the week, Friday evening, you had finished all your work for the day, although your mind was completely somewhere else. You had decided that you had to tell Barbara. It had been bugging you all week.

So you made your way to the woman’s kindergarten classroom as soon as school was out. Ms. Howard was waving her last student a good weekend when you entered.

“Hello, Darling. How may I help you?” Barbara said lovingly, clasping her hands together and giving you a warming smile.

That nickname sent butterfly’s fluttering a dozen inside your stomache…

You cleared your throat as you felt your heart begin to race. You took a deep breath for beginning,

“W-would you perhaps… I… ummm” you stammered.

Barbara gazed upon you with her soft and loving eyes. She put her things down on a desk, that she was holding ready to leave. And she came up to you close and took your hands into her own.

“Breathe, sweet girl. What’s on your mind?”

Your heart melted at her pet name and kindness for you…

You felt like a kid. Heart ablaze and emotions racing.

“I—I like you…” you whispered.

You immediately shut your eyes as you said those words, too afraid to look at Barbara or anything else, in gear of the older woman’s reaction.

You heard a small gasp. And then her warm hands squeezed yours lightly and reassuringly.

“Don’t do that... close your eyes like that, sweetheart. Let me see you.” Barbara hummed with warmth.

Her warmth spread and corsed through your body, giving you courage to open your eyes and look at the woman. She was smiling lightly.

Did she understand what you had said…?

“No Ms. Howard, I like like you…” you said in a low tone, trying to emphasize the likes to convey your intent.

Her eyes gazed upon you intently, and they widened as she really took in what you meant. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and Barbara chuckled lightly at your tone.

“Well… I don’t know what I was expecting. But I didn’t expect that…” she breathed out in a large smile.

“Your—You’re not… mad…?”

Barbara’s eyes flashed from warmth to light concern.

“No, not at all. Why would I be, Darling…? I’m flattered if anything.” The older woman reassured you, “I didn’t think, you or anyone like that would be interested in… well little old me”

Barbara spoke, adding a little flair to herself at the end when she spoke of herself.

Wait what??

“Why wouldn’t people… wouldn’t I be interested in you?” You immediately asked.

Barbara looked at you deeply with warmth once more and she squeezed your hand once more.

“Thank you, you are too kind, sweet girl…” Barbara cooed.

You blushed some more. And looked back to the ground, biting your lip. When you looked back, her gaze mesmerized you. Her eyes were dark and easily to get lost in.

Your eyes fluttered to her lips and then back up to her eyes. Her gaze did the same. You began to pull closer to the woman, before she spoke.

“But, aren’t I too old for—”

“Shut up and kiss me already”

Your lips quickly connected after that. Her lips were soft and plump, how you’d imagine them to be all this time, but so much better in reality. She kisses you with warmth and slow burning passion. It was light and slow.

From the hallway, Melissa chuckled to herself knowingly while leaving for the weekend.

~~~

Barbara Howard Masterlist

[malusrecord]

@magioffire

The Gleaming of the Blade, Christian J. Collier

[signalsearched]

 𝕊𝕀𝔾ℕ𝔸𝕃𝕊𝔼𝔸ℝℂℍ𝔼𝔻 is an independent and selective multimuse Zenless Zone Zero sideblog featuring agent Zhu Yuan !

              carrd

 this is a sideblog , all follows will come from @hubofhellfire , please follow back there as well so I can reach out for plotting purposes !

     rules and muse list below cut for mobile users

MUSES

1 . Koleda Belobog ( 20 , She / Her , Bisexual )

2 . Luciana de Montefio ( 18 , she / her , bisexual )

3 . Grace Howard ( 28 , she / her , bisexual )

4 . Nicole Demara (21 , she / her , bisexual )

5 . Soldier 11 ( 23 , she / her , demisexual )

6 . Zhu Yuan ( 25 , she / her , bisexual )

7 . Ellen Joe ( 18 , she / her , bisexaul )

8 . Hoshimi Miyabi ( 22 , she / her , demisexual )

RULES

1 . This is a multimuse blog featuring canon-divergent muses , while I will adhere to the broad strokes of a character's lore , I will also be leaving plenty of room for personal interpretation ; if this bothers you , I am afraid this blog is your fancy .

2 . I will follow back from hubofhellfire , I ask that you follow back my hub blog so as we can discuss / plot via IMs .

3 . The characters featured on this blog are all 18+ , and I require all writing partners to also be of age 18 or older . No minors are allowed on this blog , as it will feature numerous adult orientated topics like alcohol , violence , consensual sex , etc .

4 . Spoilers will not be present on this blog , and I play the story of ZZZ at my own pace ; I would love to discuss lore and characters with you , just please be respectful that I might not be in the same point of the story as you .

5 . Headcanons are my own , do not use them without explicit permission from me .

6 . I love ships , I love crossovers , please pump both of them into my veins ! Please note that I will only ship each muse with one interpretation of another canon muse ( ex. my Lucy will only be shipped with one interpretation of Nicole . )

7 . Drama free zone , I'm nearly 30 and don't have the time or energy to partake in petty Tumblr drama ; if someone I interact with is problematic , reach out to me personally in private with the situation and I will make my own judgements / decisions on the matter . Additionally , if anything I do offends or otherwise crosses a rule of yours ? Please reach out to me personally so we can resolve the matter like reasonable adults .

8 . Discord is readily available for all mutuals , as is my ZZZ friendslist so reach out if you would like either / both .

[owmylasagna-blog]

Ed is Thicker Than Mud

Warning: Character development arc may take a couple years to take full effect.

Some random musings on post-BPS Eddy growing pains.

You can also read it over on AO3.

Each mechanical tick of the outdated relic of a wall clock reverberating through the office makes his skin crawl. Wriggling uncomfortably, the naugahyde of the chair releases a series of unnatural whines of protest beneath the restless teen. Don’t they know precious moments of his youth are slipping away with every infuriatingly useless second spent shedding dead skin cells in this room? It doesn’t help that his jeans are still damp. He’s pretty sure his new sneakers are wrecked too.

If being detained wasn't bad enough, they’re probably on the phone with his mom right now, and he isn’t exactly looking forward to his folks tearing him a new one over tonight's chicken francaise. Just as he imagines the yelling match his mom and pop are gonna inevitably start the loose doorknob rattles behind him.

“Here we go,” Eddy grumbles into the collar of his long sleeve polo. He slumps down into the armchair.

The door groans on its hinges, open and then shut. Footsteps click in time as the middle aged man slowly makes his way around the office furniture and sits. All the while Eddy keeps his eyes planted on the linoleum tiles between the desk and his feet. He feigns disinterest as a manila folder and a few slips of paper are shuffled.

“So. Edward McGee…”

Eddy squints, not exactly appreciative of the pause for dramatic effect, nor the emphasis put on his last name.

“Would you care to explain why you're in my office, young man?”

“No.”

“No ‘you don’t care’? Or no ‘you can’t explain’?”

In response, Eddy crosses his arms and slouches even further into the depths of the worn leatherette, the heels of his sneakers squeaking as they skid forward. The principal sighs.

“The silent treatment won't get you very far-”

“You know what I did.”

Boy was this interrogation a bunch of bologna.

“Yes, I certainly do. I’m well aware of the damage to school property you’ve caused, not to mention the cost required to repair it. What I want to know is why.”

“Principal Howard, I didn’t-”

“We’ve already heard your excuses. This is your last chance to plead your case as to why you felt it necessary to tamper with-”

“I didn’t tamper nothin’!”

Eddy shoots to his feet, looking the principal in the face for the first time. His heart thrashes against his ribcage.

“I find that hard to believe.”

Yep. Totally pointless.

The teen and the man exchange steely glares before the elder shifts his gaze behind the younger.

“Please sit, Edward.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddy parks his keister back down, resuming his previous slouch. He watches as Principal Howard leafs through the papers on his desk. Most are a familiar shade of detention slip blue, some more faded than others. It’s a suspiciously sizable stack considering he’s only been in high school for three months. Sure, his track record hasn’t been… great. He’s never been the morning type. Missing homeroom three out of five days in a week will do that. As does skipping out on a detention here and there. Compared to junior high, though, Eddy considers himself a freakin’ angel so far. Barring today of course… just his luck.

But the slips have Eddy curious enough to raise a brow at, sitting up a bit straighter in an attempt to sneak a peek. He’s caught off guard when the name written on the top edge isn’t his own. Well, not entirely. Eddy’s muscles flex with immediate recognition, flashing a fierce look up to find the intent gaze of the older man peering down his sizable nose through his glasses.

No ‘effin way.

“You remind me of your brother.”

Eddy sputters, feeling the air rush out of his lungs. It makes it hard to speak. His brain fills with static. It makes it hard to think.

“Wha- you- you can’t-”

How’s he allowed to say that?

“Before I became principal I taught at this school for many years. Don’t think I could forget a kid like that so easily. Bright, creative, one might say underchallenged, but misguided, difficult, trouble prone. Unfortunate really. I didn’t have much control of the situation then nor the authority. But things have changed, except for the fact that I’m tasked with ensuring another McGee boy doesn’t slip through the cracks.”

“Cool headed” is an accolade foreign to Eddy. It takes every fiber of his being to bite his tongue, stopping himself from spewing expletives that will land him right back in the hot seat for the umpteenth time. More than anything he holds back to prove that he isn’t anything at all like…

“Which is why I’m requiring that you join an extracurricular student activity effective immediately.”

“WHAT!? WHY?!” Eddy finally blows his top. It’s a relief to scream.

“You need discipline, structure, responsibility, teamwork - whatever it takes to preoccupy your idle hours.”

“Believe me, Teach, the mathletes don’t need me screwin’ up their squared roots or whatever.”

“Then choose something else that interests you. D’you like sports?”

Eddy shrugs. Lately, nothing really interests him. Let alone anything school related. Not even marathons of The Ed Sullivan Show or wearing out the grooves in A-tom-ic Jones can seem to pull him out of this slump. And he sure wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to get towel-whipped by the meatheads, that's for sure. The thought of the foot smell that wafts from the locker room like a thick miasma alone makes him shudder.

Eighth grade graduation, the start of high school, and the abysmal summer between them had been a strange fog. Beyond his two best friends, Eddy avoided the other cul-de-sac kids like a plague. Oh yeah, this was cruel ironing as Double Dee put it. All that time vying to get their attention? Ever since they got front row seats to his bro’s assholery on full display, they’d been acting real nice. Too nice.

The remainder of seventh grade, after the groundings ended, was filled with an unprecedented number of invitations to movie nights, birthday parties, and sleepovers. Even though he’d sworn off the scams it somehow felt like he still needed to perform every time he made an appearance. Suddenly, everybody wanted to get to know him more. And that scared Eddy: what if there wasn’t more? He felt he hardly knew himself these days.

“You have until the end of the week to decide, so start asking around. And when you do find a team or club, I will personally speak to the coach or teacher running it to ensure that you are immediately enrolled and actively participating. Do you understand?”

The principal receives a noncommittal grunt as a response. He’s more stern the second time.

“Do you understand, Edward?”

Eddy finally gives a reluctant reply, hoping that this is the end of the conversation and he’ll be off the hook.

“Yeah. Capeech.”

“Good. Because this sort rebellious behavior will not be to-”

“And it’s Eddy.”

The balding man blinks a few times, brows twitching.

“Well, Eddy, another stunt like today and I bring your parents in. Capeech?”

Having his own phrasing thrown back at him makes Eddy feel even more patronized than he already is. Which is saying something, considering this whole freakin’ ordeal feels like it was designed by the universe or some malevolent god to humiliate him to no end.

“Yeah…”

Double doors fly open when the compact teen barrels through. He’s moving fast, on a mission, so focused on getting as much distance between himself and this stupid school that he hardly notices the two figures sitting side by side on the stone stairs anxiously awaiting his release. The leaner of the two jumps to his feet, calling out through the bothersome crack his voice has acquired thanks to puberty.

“Eddy!”

He whips around, jabbing a finger square between Double Dee’s eyes. The taller boy flinches back at the accusatory appendage.

“I aint talkin’ to you, snitch! Let’s go, Ed.”

The eldest of the bunch complies to the command, joining Eddy by his side. Edd huffs, shaking his fists, and with an indignant stomp of his sneakered foot is hot on the trail of his two friends. Seeing as there is a nasty storm cloud over Eddy’s head Ed opts to not ask too many questions. Instead he shares the exciting news:

“Double Dee and me saw two squirrels fighting over a nut while you were gone.”

“Sad story,” replies Eddy, inflection flat as a sheet of paper.

Meanwhile, the speed walking boy approaching from the rear isn’t so quick to change the subject.

“Come now! You can’t seriously think my intention was to smear your academic reputation!”

Eddy keeps stomping the pavement, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, and rolls his eyes in disbelief. The balls on this guy…

“Eddy, please,” Edd pleads, finally gaining, “The entire first floor was flooded. Given my proximity I responded in a manner that anyone in their right mind would. Honestly, are you suggesting I had a plethora of options?”

“Bull! Ya coulda kept your big. Mouth. Shut.” Eddy snarls through gritted teeth, shoulders tensing up to his ears.

“And be a complicit bystander? I think not,” replies Edd with a pout.

“Why do you make it out like I wanted that to happen!?” Eddy spits back, keeping his sights focused on the cracked cement.

“Who says I’m blaming you? It’s causality. You flushed an entire cafeteria tray and its contents down the toilet.”

“Ain’t my fault the lunch sucked mega balls! And why’s the school got plumbing from the Dark Ages? You saw that casserole.” He throws up two skeptical air quotes, “Would have been better off eatin’ rubber cement.”

“I think I saw it move,” Ed adds excitedly, grinning ear to ear.

Ed had eaten his serving of casserole with much relish, though, not before dunking it into his trusty thermos o’ gravy. It’s too bad that Eddy turned down the offer. The mental image of the subpar cafeteria slop alone makes both Edd and Eddy’s stomachs churn, let alone the gusto with which Ed manages to devour it.

“Yes. Well. I must say I was glad to have packed a garbanzo salad sandwich today based on the looks of things,” the teen in the beanie admits, punctuated with a nervous chuckle.

Eddy can’t help but look his friend in the face despite the stubborn front he’s working so hard to put up. Edd’s got a small smile but otherwise he looks ill at the recollection of the foul lunch offerings, his tongue peeking out through the gap as it presses against the back of his teeth. The husky boy cracks his own smile and stifles snort at his pal’s pathetic expression.

“Food so bad, even the crapper couldn’t stomach it,” Eddy throws in just for a kick.

It works - at least he and Ed chuckle over that and Edd shakes his head incredulously - burning off some of the uncomfortable tension that has been growing since the afternoon. The trio continue walking a few yards in the direction of home, lulling their arguing for just a moment to the sound of gravely footsteps, rustling leaves, and the jingle of Eddy’s wallet chain thumping against his thigh.

Sidewalks aren’t exactly wide enough to walk together in a line so it's unavoidable that every now and then, if they don’t split off into a triangle formation, that they bump shoulders. Eddy feels his shoulder nudge into Double Dee’s arm, then awkwardly clears his throat and sniffles against the chill fall air.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” heckles Double Dee with a pretentious sideways smirk.

Before he knows it, Eddy feels the back of his neck burning. For that alone he gives the wiry and historically uncoordinated teen a solid shove, causing him to stumble over his own two feet and step squarely into a soggy pile of street gutter leaves. The feeling of cold damp permeating through his shoe upper and soaking into his sock makes the boy yelp and shudder in disgust, a shiver running up his spine.

“Wet!” Edd wails. He shakes his sodden sneaker like a cat that's stepped in water and skips to catch up.

Of course Eddy laughs at Edd’s theatrics, very openly, which just sets Ed off to join him. Reveling in his buddy’s harmless misfortune, Ed throws an arm over Eddy’s shoulder which the shorter teen roughly shrugs off.

“Very good. I’ve received my comeuppance.” Edd sighs, wincing as his sock squelches with every other step.

A few tsks of disapproval are made by Ed seemingly out of the blue. Edd and Eddy are surprised to see their happy-go-lucky Lump looking uncharacteristically forlorn.

“How sad it must be to be a squirrel without a nut. What cruel, hostile world we must live in where there are not enough nuts to go around.” Ed punctuates the thought with a heavy sigh.

“I’m lookin’ at a nut right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Ed perks up, head whipping violently in search of it as though he can rectify the injustice he’d witnessed.

“Yeah, TWO of ‘em!“

Just as he says it, Eddy’s fist finds its way to the tall redhead’s vulnerable groin with an empty punch.

“DOH!”

Edd puts a bit of space between himself and Eddy.

“Fear not, Ed. Every squirrel has their day.”

“Good for them,” Eddy growls, his earlier gloating soured by envying, of all things, a fuzzy rat.

Seeing as his vapid positivity hasn’t exactly resonated with Eddy, Edd decides to take a more direct approach.

“So, what punishment has befallen you? Another detention.”

Eddy’s brows drop down over his eyes with a snarl. He sees a pebble a few steps ahead and when he reaches it gives it a good solid kick. It skitters wildly into the street.

“No.”

“Suspension.”

“No.”

“Disintegration?” Ed chimes in.

“I wish.”

“You’d make a fine puddle, you would.”

“Thanks, Ed,” Eddy rolls his eyes, shoving his chin down into the collar of his jacket.

He nearly jumps at the shriek-like sound of Edd’s gasp. It looks as though he’s doing a decent impression of that weird painting of the screaming guy.

“Good lord, please don’t tell me you’ve been… expelled!?” Edd can hardly say the word.

“No! Worse! I gotta join some bogus extracaricature.”

Double Dee’s hand flies, grabbing Eddy’s bicep. The sudden physical contact makes Eddy reflexively flinch.

“What a relief! You had me worried for a second.” An offended look on Eddy’s face does worry Edd and he realizes it’s because of the grasp he has on his arm. He swiftly releases it, putting his hand in his jacket pocket.

“Ah- A generously lenient outcome considering the extent of property damage. Participation in a peer activity? Hmm… Why, you could always join me on the junior debate team. What you lack in research skills you certainly make up for with your argumentative temperament.”

“Kill me already.”

Eddy sags under the weight of such a nerdy proposition.

“Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Craning his neck, Ed peers down curiously.

“Join me! We could always use a uh-” Ed pauses, counting on his fingers, “a third member on the team. You could even go by Mr. AV-Eddy.”

With a rough tug, Ed’s head snaps down to match his short-statured friend’s eye level, Eddy’s fist full of the pilling and frayed green jacket collar.

“Call me that at school and I’ll shove an 8 millimeter where the sun don’t shine.”

“Norway?”

“NO way. Don’t even try it.” Eddy threatens before letting go of Ed.

“You got it, Mr. Cool Guy I’d Never Ever Call AV-Eddy, uh, sir!”

To show his deference, Ed removes his monobrow and swears it over his heart.

They keep walking. It’s about a half hour trudge back to the cul-de-sac, but it sure beats the torment of the public school buses. Bottom of the food chain means getting the crappiest seats, or worse even, becoming completely separated. Much better to brave the biting wind for now: Eddy’s ears and nose are already ruddy. Come winter they might reassess.

It’s hard not to think he might be cursed: born with the dark mark. Maybe somewhere down his family line there was some cardinal sin committed that’s the root to all this. If he has to place bets it was probably those damn pilgrims that sold Peach Creek to the Kankers, the lot of inbred nitwits. Eddy sorta gets why his brother is the way he is. He knows deep down his parents treated him different from the jump. That he’s had it better, at least in some ways. Despite his bad luck he’s technically the lucky one. But there is still so much he doesn’t know. Stuff that when he brings it up mom just starts blubbering. He won’t even bring it up with dad. So teachers thought he was smart?

Over the last year, Double Dee has fretted over Eddy’s drawn out silences. Just like the one now. He can’t help but read far too deeply into whatever might preoccupy Eddy’s mind so much to leave him speechless. A more contemplative and reflective streak could be good for Eddy. Except Double Dee knows from personal experience how quickly things can go south inside the echo chamber of one’s own thoughts. He chews his lip as the worry gnaws away at him.

“Eddy? Was there… anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Eddy sniffs his running nose again, scowling. He shrugs.

“S’nothing. Everyone at this school’s got it out for me.”

The feeling of a gentle hand between his shoulder blades makes the back of his eyes burn. Dammit. He blinks hard, sniffing even harder.

“Not everyone.” Double Dee earnestly assures. Ed wraps another arm around him in a lax half hug and this time Eddy doesn’t shrug him off. Instead, he leans in.

“Okay, okay. Fine. Almost everyone.”

And that’s good enough for him.

[discodreaming]

HELLO! i've now opened my inbox for my followers/mutuals to talk to their favorite character!

you can send in random sentences, inbox prompts that you see on my blog or even confess your love!

please be sure to be respectful and kind to not only me but the muses.

this will be very much like roleplaying. to continue communication you can send in more inboxes or you can even link the inbox to a conversation to communicate with your beau/family/friend!

please do not request any minors/anthropomorphic in romantic or sexual ways, I'm begging you. i will only reply to the platonic/familial ones.

you may talk to at least 2 muses at once in one message, all to prevent being overwhelmed. this may change once i get comfortable enough to handle more.

all romantic and nsft inboxes or starters towards muses will require slow burn

all ships are multishipped but can be single shipped if you guys can build up their romance meter!

this will only be reader x character, oc x character i will put on either another blog or a different post.

* note: i will accept 5 oc x character in this post for the time being: 1/5

however for certain events i can bend these rules for you to get a romantic scene with your crushes!

or even just hanging out with your friends!

characters i will write for right now:

note: this list will change every now and then as i advance further into the shows or a character is requested more!

if you don't see a character you like here and would like to see me try my hand at playing them, don't be shy to tell me!

bold = characters I've played before

one piece! ( pre timeskip )

romantic options: nico robin, nami, sanji, zoro, usopp, buggy, sir crocodile, dracule mihawk, shanks, portgas d. ace

platonic options: chopper, franky ( may change ), luffy ( im currently on the pretimeskip )

up to debate: please ask !

rwby ! ( all season 9 ages )

romantic options: weiss schnee, blake belladonna, yang xiao long, jaune arc, taiyang xiao long, raven branwen, qrow branwen, emerald sustari, sun wukong, neptune vasillias, james ironwood, winter schnee, mercury black

platonic options: ruby rose, nora valkyrie, lie ren, pyrrha nikos, penny polendina, professor ozpin, oscar pine, neopolitan

up to debate: salem, cinder fall

fruits basket !

romantic options: shigure sohma, hatori soma, ayame soma

platonic options: tohru honda, yuki sohma, kyo sohma

castlevania animated !

romantic options: trevor belmont, adrian 'alucard' tepes, sypha belnades

edens zero !

romantic options: rebecca bluegarden, weisz steiner, homura kogetsu, kris rutherford, shiki granbell, labilla christy

platonic: happy, witch regret, sister ivry, hermit mio, valkyrie yuna, elise crimson, justice

d.gray man !

romantic options: yu kanda, lavi, tyki mikk, howard link, cross marian

platonic: allen walker, lenalee lee, nea d. campbell, wisely kamelot

psycho pass !

romantic options: akane tsuneori, shinya kogami, nobuchika ginoza, shuusei kagari, yayoi kunizuka, shion karanomori, shogo makishima

platonic: tomomoi masaoka

owari no seraph

romantic options: guren ichinose, ferid bathory, kureto hiiragi, shinya hiragi, seishiro hiiragi, crowley eusford

platonic: yuichiro hyakuya, mikaela hyakuya, shinoa hiiragi, yoichi saotome, shiho kimizuki, mitsuba sangu, krul tepes

yuukou no moriarty

romantic options: william james moriarty, albert james moriarty, louis james moiarty, sherlock holmes, fred porlock, sebastian moran, mycroft holmes, james bond

fate/ ( /zero & /stay night)

romantic options: saber, kirei kotomine, gilgamesh, cu chulainn

platonic: shirou emiya, rin tohsaka, waver velvet

up to debate: kiritsugu emiya, irisviel von einzbern, archer emiya, tokiomi tohsaka, diamuid ua duibhne

please don't: shinji matou, ryuunosuke uryu

fairy tail

romantic options: lucy heartfilia, gray fullbuster, erza scarlet, mirajane strauss, laxus dreyar, gildarts clive, loke, elfman strauss, juvia lockser, fried justine, evergreen, bickslow, rogue cheney, sting eucliffe, kagura mikazuchi, aguria yukino, natsu dragneel, mystogan, cana alberona, gajeel redfox, erik, jellal fernandes

platonic: wendy marvell

record of ragnarok

romantic options: adam, jack the ripper, kojiro sasaki, qin shi huang, hades, beelzebub, hermes

platonic: souji okita

up to debate: the valkyries, nikolas tepes, thor, poseidon, apollo,

obey me

romantic options: lucifer, mammon, levianthan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor,diavolo, barbatos, simeon, raphael, solomon,

platonic: luke

up to debate: thirteen, mephistopheles

kingdom hearts ( kingdom hearts iii )

romantic options: terra, aqua, xemnas, zexion, saix, axel, demyx,

platonic: sora, kairi, riku, roxas, namine, xion, ventus, vanitas, ephemer, skuld, brain

genshin impact

romantic options: wriothesley, albedo, alhaitham, ayaka, ayato, baizhu, ajax, cyno, dehya, diluc, eula, ganyu, itto, jean, kazuha, kokomi, xiao, heizou, shenhe, kaeya, rosaria, yae miko, beidou, lisa, kaveh, zhongli, nigguang, neuvillette, yela, candace, thoma, yanfei

platonic: hu tao, venti, faruzan, sucrose, chongyun, freminet, layla, mika, fischl, collei, noelle, yun jin, barbara, xingqiu, amber, bennette, xinyan

up to debate: keqing, lyney, aether, lumine, wanderer, lynette, kuki shinobu, sara, kiara, gorou, mona, nilou, yoimiya, charlotte

please don't: klee, sayu, qiqi, diona, dori, nahida, yaoyao

final fantasy

romantic options: cloud strife, tifa lockhart, aerith gainsborough, zack fair, reno, rude, genesis rhapsodos, reeve tuesti, angel hewley, sephiroth, vincent valentine.

platonic: barret wallace, yuffie kisaragi

detroit become human

romantic options: connor, markus, gavin

platonic: kara, hank

devil may cry

romantic options: dante, nero, vergil

platonic: trish, nico, lady, v

jojo's bizarre adventure

romantic options: dio brando, joseph joestar ( part 2 & 3 ), caesar anthonio zeppeli, jotaro kujo ( 4-6 only ), rohan kishibe, bruno bucciarati, leone abbachio, narciso anasui, johnny joestar, gyro zeppeli, diego brando

debating: jonathan joestar, jolyne cujoh, weather report

[foxes-that-run]

To be so lonely

TBSL is a drunk phone call with regret for how a relationship turned out. It has similarities to Say don’t go and Ready for it. Harry said (10:30) it was written in Bath. He said it was one of his favourites and a shame that people shout arrogant SOB at him. I love him so much:

Arrogant son of a bitch

Arrogant SOB is a quote from this Notebook scene. It's a vulnerable, honest line from a hopeless romantic's favourite movie. Why would people scream it at him? Only played at 12 shows.

Timeline

Harry wrote Fine Line in the first half 2018 and Cherry and Falling mid-year.

In October - January he was in Japan. The last Reputation show was in Tokyo in November. He wrote Little Freak & Ophelia then.

Taylor went back to the UK with Joe, In February she and Joe went to the Spaniards Inn (aka Harry's local) and she released Me!

To be so lonely is a drunk phone call when he is back in England around June 2019. (see also 2018-2020 and Fine line timelines

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Don't blame me for falling I was just a little boy Don’t blame the drunk caller Wasn't ready for it all

The first verse is clear that he's calling taylor:

‘Don't blame him for falling’ has a layered meaning, falling in love in the 1989 TV era (the irony now with vaults), falling off the friendship fine line (also in Daylight) and now falling into depression as in Falling.

He was just a little boy refers to his immaturity in the 1989 TV era, as detailed in Say don't go.

he responds to Taylor’s vengeful open to the Reputation tour and album: "Are you Ready for it.." with a soft gentle 'I wasn't ready at all'. This is layered, he wasn't ready to date an adult, for the fame, to be there for her insecurities in Slut and Say don’t go or to loose that love then or now.

[Pre-Chorus] You can't blame me, darling Not even a little bit, I was away And I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch Who can't admit when he's sorry

He's feeling sorry for himself, reflecting on having been emotionally numb when they dated (I was away). To Howard Stern he said every decision he’d made from 16 to 22 was as part of a group, going to therapy and working through his thoughts at that time.

the arrogant SOB line reminds us he is a gentle soul, he is sorry, he has done the work and can now see the effect he had on her. I love that line and wish people didn’t yell it.

he’s sorry, but as an arrogant sob that’s hard

[Chorus] Don't call me "baby" again, you got your reasons I know that you're tryna be friends, I know you mean it Don't call me "baby" again, it's hard for me to go home Be so lonely

Harry asked his muse to not call him baby, because he’s not with them. They are trying to be friends despite chemistry, they crossed the fine line of friendship and he’s drunk calling lonely that his beloved is not with him.

In Taylor’s later track, illicit affairs she has a similar line “And you wanna scream / Don't call me "kid" / Don't call me "baby" / Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me / You showed me colors / You know I can't see with anyone else”

He closes that it’s hard for him to be so lonely, it seems his beloved is not lonely because they are not single

[Verse 2] I just hope you see me in a little better light Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind? ’Cause I miss the shape of your lips You’ll win, it's just a trick And this is it, so I’m sorry

He and this person have history, he wants to right. Little Freak “never saw his birthmark” is similar to me, Harry feels like Taylor did not get to see the real him, he was a little boy who wasn’t ready for it all. He regrets how things turned out and how she sees him.

He misses the shape of her lips, (red lips in style and two ghosts) in a leaked “I just wanna love you” he sang “'Cause I just wanna kiss you / And that's never gonna change / At least I'm honest with you, babe”

He’s jealous she’s with someone else, wishes they were together. He agrees it’s just a trick to get her attention, and he’s sorry.

[Bridge] And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch Who can't admit when he's sorry [Chorus] Don't call me "baby" again, you got your reasons I know that you're tryna be friends, I know you mean it Don't call me "baby" again, it's hard for me to go home Be so lonely To be so lonely x5

:( he’s sad for how it ended, misses her

sees she wants to be friends but he can’t cope if she calls him baby because he wants her. Taylor has a similar sentiment “ Now that we don’t talk “Truth is, I can't pretend it's / Platonic, it's just ended, so”

She’s in a relationship and he wants to be with her.

[aurumacadicus]

For the fic title thing: Tony Stark's baby with stuckony?

YOOOOOOO I LOVED THIS TITLE IMMEDIATELY

Tony Stark's Baby

It had been a great scandal, Tony Stark appearing at his parent's table with news that he was with child. He'd been groomed for royalty. Perhaps not in the direct family line, but a cousin or niece, perhaps. He had the breeding, the finishing, the temperament. He would have made a good husband.

Now he was wasted. That was the word Howard had shouted at him. Wasted. As if that was all he'd raised his son for, to give to someone else. Then again... maybe he had. Tony had never really talked about him with warmth and affection.

If Howard had had any for him, it died that night when he gave Tony the choice to abort or leave. And no one had seen Tony since.

"I wonder if he ever told Howard who the father might be," Steve mused, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. They'd been riding for quite some time since they'd left the Stark estate.

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. "Do you think that Howard would have let us leave the property alive if he knew it was one of us?"

Steve took a moment to really think of his answer. "No, you're right. He would have tried to kill at least one of us." He dropped his hand with a sigh. "I thought Howard was different."

"Yeah, I think his title went to his head," Bucky grumbled. He lifted his head a little. "Looks like we're almost there."

"It was nice of his ma to let him live on her property," Steve said, then grimaced when Bucky shot him an unimpressed frown. "I mean, obviously it's the least she could do for her son and grandchild, but I'm surprised Howard allowed it."

"They had a written agreement that this would be her property to control," Bucky reminded him. He pulled his horse in closer to Steve's, unable to help the smug smirk that crossed his lips as he quietly added, "Heard Howard tried to get her to kick Tony out anyway. Every single servant left the manor that night. I heard it was because they didn't want to be witnesses if Maria killed him."

Steve nodded a little. That made sense. Maria hadn't been the best mother to Tony, but he couldn't imagine her looking at her pregnant child and deciding both her son and his child should suffer, even if she could only bring herself to see the baby but once.

They made it over the hill and stopped to let their horses rest a bit from the climb. There was a little farm in the valley below. Self-sufficient, Clint had called it. No profit. He could grow enough for them to eat, but not enough that he could make more than a few coins with his spare vegetables. A kind gift, but also a punishment.

"Well," Steve said after a moment. "No point putting this off."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed quietly, and they nudged their horses forward again.

There was no one outside to meet them, but they hadn't really expected there to be. Tony couldn't afford to hire help, so any that he got were beholden to his mother, and they hadn't really ingratiated themselves to her, if the way her eyes went sharp with realization after their careful questioning were any indication. The yard had a few toys, but otherwise was well-kept. There was smoke coming from the chimney.

Steve and Bucky fussed with their horses a bit, then gave up on wasting time, putting off the inevitable. Either Tony would accept them, or he wouldn't. If he didn't, that was his right. They had gotten word about the scandal three years ago on the front lines, and maybe they could have come back then, if they'd pushed it. But Tony hadn't asked them to come home, so they didn't.

Steve knocked, then stepped over to press his shoulder to Bucky's. Bucky pressed closer.

The door opened, and Tony was there, tipping his head back to look up at them.

"You're late," Tony said, and then, before they could respond, he turned to step back inside. "Put your horses away. Supper's almost ready, and Harley will be waking from his nap."

"We can stay?" Bucky asked, unable to help his surprise.

Tony glanced back over his shoulder at them. "If you're taking responsibility," he answered carefully.

"We'll scream to the rooftops he's ours," Steve offered immediately.

"And that we plan to bond into a triad," Bucky added.

Tony tipped his head thoughtfully. "...Put your horses away," he repeated. "And if you're nice to me, maybe I'll give you a welcome home kiss."

"Fucking move," Steve said, throwing Bucky to the ground, and Bucky squawked in offense as he chased after him.

[malusrecord]

@coolrpblog

ｅｍｅｒｇｅｎｃｙ░ａｃｔｉｏｎ

[o1dhabits]

(  mikey madison.  cis woman.  she/her.  )  did  you  hear  ?  marianne  dellmount  is  stuck  in  stonehaven  for  the  for  the  foreseeable  future  …  they've  lived  here  for  six  years  and  are  known  around  town  as  the  wannabe,  though  back  in  high  school  they  were  better  known  for  being  voted  best  hair.  if  i'm  not  mistaken,  they’re  a  twenty - five  year  old  grade  studying  undeclared  (  i  really  hope  that  translates  well  into  their  role  as  a  hunter/forager  in  the  ‘new  world'  ).  according  to  my  records  they  were  originally  on  the  trip  because  she  couldn't  stand  the  thought  of  enduring  her  own  company  all  weekend  —  which  checks  out,  given  they’re  inventive,  aimless  and  irascible.  if  you’re  ever  trying  to  find  them,  your  best  bet  is  to  start  at  southside  plaza  and  listen  for  someone  humming  paul  by  big  thief.  oh,  and  don’t  forget  to  try  calling  out  mare  or  picturing  the  last  fleck  of  glitter  stuck  to  your  cheek  the  morning  after  new  year's  eve,  standing  in  the  shadow  of  your  sibling  and  realizing  that  it's  always  fit  you  like  a  glove,  hyper - analyzing  your  friends'  facial  features  —  a  feeling  in  your  stomach  like  curling  a  ribbon  with  scissors  the  second  you  detect  disinterest,  and  your  reflection  in  the  bathroom  mirror  looking  more  like  a  kaleidoscope  than  a  single  silhouette  for  extra  help.  let's  hope  the  chaos  doesn't  get  to  them  …  

⋆  001.      STATISTICS  .

name marianne diana dellmount etymology "sea of bitterness", "grace" gender & pronouns cis woman, she/her sexuality bisexual occupation undeclared major at stonehaven college, hunter/forager marital status single age & d.o.b. twenty - five, june 4th 1999 ethnicity white nationality american religion non - practicing baptist, jewish on her mother’s side hometown chino, southern california, usa residence stonehaven, illinois, usa languages spoken english haunts southside plaza, the carousel plaza, evergreen trails, the banks of serenity lake

⋆  002.      CROSS - SECTION  .

big three gemini sun, cancer moon, aries rising alignment chaotic neutral pastimes hunting, painting her nails, reading the clique series repeatedly though she's aged out of its target audience, trying to guess the scents passersby are wearing as a fun game, writing her maniacal musings in her journal, indulging in a shower beer colour a yellowish pink that hurts your eyes and reminds of strawberry lemonade from concentrate — too sour and too sweet at the same time positives inventive, resourceful, versatile, determined negatives insecure, aimless, irascible, clingy inventory a nearly empty bottle of essie in the cab - ana, an extremely beat up red leather bound journal, a walkman with britney spears' circus in it, a hunting knife (always strapped to her belt), 3 rifle cartridges, a well - loved stanford baseball cap that's faded pink from the sun, a christmas themed budweiser bottle opener keychain inspirations powder/jinx (arcane), pearl douglas (pearl), gretchen wieners (mean girls), shauna shipman (yellowjackets), misty quigley (yellowjackets), cassie howard (euphoria)

⋆  003.      PHYSICALITY  .

height 5'4 build petite, but muscled — sleeper build esque ygm hair dark, down to her waist eyes dark brown, almost black skin tone fair, always looks like it's wanting for some sun identifiers always wearing nailpolish in bright colours, a wide, toothy grin that looks more animalistic than it ever does mirthful, a chipped front tooth —  less chipped than it is missing an entire corner, takes after her mother in looks wardrobe loves colour, sheen and sparkles but hasn't indulged in them much since she took up hunting for the group –  she has a grey stonehaven college hoodie and a too - big camo hunting jacket she found in one of the cabins lining serenity lake that she wears most often, but her choice of footwear is nearly always her pink high top converse scars general wear and tear from growing up on a farm, a couple across her left palm from carelessly cutting apples with a pocket knife face mikey madison

⋆  004.      BACKGROUND  .

marianne  dellmount  was  born  at  a  boiling  point.  the  start  of  summer  in  chino,  southern  california  always  brought  long  heatwaves,  ones  that  boiled  people's  brains  in  their  skulls  and  made  them  angrier  than  they  were  usually  wont  to  be.  her  parents,  both  nineteen  and  already  on  their  second  child,  had  a  relationship  that  was  held  together  by  mere  obligation  and  the  pressures  of  their  small  town's  church  congregation.  summer's  arrival  and  the  unceremonious  sous  vide  of  their  minds  and  bodies  that  came  with  it,  in  combination  with  such,  was  never  going  to  serve  to  keep  the  dellmount  family  together.  two  months  into  mare's  life,  her  mother's  departure  from  chino  came  as  a  surprise  to  no  one  but  her  father.  left  with  two  children  under  the  age  of  three  and  a  hastily  scrawled  goodbye  note  on  a  chinese  food  menu,  he  began  a  search  for  work  wherever  he  could. 

the  only  family  residing  on  bolter  family  chicken  farms  property  were  the  dellmounts.  in  exchange  for  a  meagre  salary  and  the  right  to  park  his  trailer  and  raise  his  kids  on  the  back  of  the  bolter  family  farmland,  mare's  father  shot  coyotes.  and  that  was  all  he  did,  really  — aside  from  drinking  miller  banquets  and  sitting  in  front  of  their  small  television  set  exuding  a  vibe  that  signalled  he  did  not  want  to  be  spoken  to.  when  mare  looked  back  on  her  childhood,  she  remembered  being  raised  by  her  sister  emmalee.  she  was  only  two  years  mare's  senior  and  trying  to  fill  a  role  that  she'd  never  had  anyone  model  for  her.  weekdays  were  spent  at  school,  and  after  2pm  they'd  join  their  father  for  the  last  few  hours  of  sunlight  before  the  night  shift  took  over.  weekends  were  spent  left  to  their  own  devices.  they  were  fed  and  clothed,  but  with  meals  cooked  by  a  ten  year  old  and  clothes  littered  with  grass  stains  and  requiring  mending. 

mare  couldn't  pinpoint  when  she  first  started  lying.  or  maybe  she  could.  maybe  it  was  when  her  sister  went  off  to  high  school,  a  different  building  altogether  from  where  mare  remained  languishing  in  the  sixth  grade.  all  she  really  wanted  was  to  make  friends,  she'd  insist,  telling  fib  after  fib.  yes,  she  had  read  the  clique  series.  yes,  she  was  watching  the  newest  season  of  gossip  girl  every  friday  on  the  cw,  which  was  a  channel  her  family  definitely  got.  yes,  she  did  have  a  gamecube  and  a  ds  lite  —  the  pink  one.  and  yes,  she  had  beaten  pokemon  pearl  within  two  days  of  its  release.  none  of  it  was  true  — but  if  she  believed  in  her  charade  hard  enough,  it'd  get  close  enough,  wouldn't  it?  mare  sat  in  a  place  of  uneasiness.  she  was  pleasant  enough  that  her  classmates  didn't  mind  her  presence,  but  just  enough  about  her  patchworked  personality  and  story  about  her  life  were  amiss  that  she  was  never  invited  for  dinner  at  anybody's  house.  she  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  be  like  emmalee,  who  made  friends  easily  and  who  was  popular  enough  that  her  reputation  preceded  mare's  arrival  anywhere.  "you're  emmalee's  kid  sister"  was  a  phrase  that  tailed  mare  like  a  loyal  dog  until  the  day  she  left  chino  for  good. 

emmalee,  of  course,  did  it  first.  perhaps  it  was  the  burden  of  being  the  eldest  sister,  of  having  to  raise  her  younger  sister  when  she  was  still  a  child  herself  —  perhaps  she  was  simply  tired  of  living  on  the  outskirts  of  a  chicken  farm.  by  the  time  college  acceptances  had  started  stuffing  themselves  into  the  dellmount's  roadside  mailbox,  emmalee  already  had  one  foot  out  of  the  door.  mare  couldn't  tell  you  which  offer  she'd  accepted,  nor  which  big  city  her  sister  had  relocated  to.  their  father  denounced  her  departure,  calling  her  selfish.  mare,  ever  pliant  to  whoever  she  was  seeking  the  favour  of  at  the  time,  agreed  with  him.  by  the  time  she  finished  high  school  herself  two  years  later,  mare  wished  she  too  had  been  swept  away  from  chino  by  a  big  city  university  offer.  instead,  she  shot  coyotes. 

emulating  the  mother  she'd  never  known  and  yet  looked  so  much  alike,  mare  left  chino  two  months  after  her  19th  birthday.  the  little  she  knew  about  her  mother  involved  her  hometown  of  stonehaven,  where  her  father  had  mentioned  once  in  passing  that  she  and  emmalee  might  still  have  grandparents. it was the prospect of them — of warm smiles and baked goods and unconditional love and support that drew her away from the familiarity of her childhood trailer. it was that — and it was the reality that the people she'd grown up with were too old now to fall for all of her falsehoods. mare steamed silently when she saw the tweets or overheard what was said about her at church gatherings. she'd only told the lies so that they'd like her.

in  the  end,  mare  was  too  much  her  father  for  her  mother's  parents.  they'd  moved  from  chino  to  illinois  themselves  when  it'd  become  clear  that  their  daughter  was  never  coming  back  home,  having been driven  far, far away  by  the  obligations  of  young  motherhood.  they'd  needed  someone  to  blame,  and  mare's  father  had  been  there  to  suffer  the  brunt  of  their  ire.  when  mare  had  shown  up  on  their  doorstep  nineteen  years  later,  they'd  only  half  accepted  her.  she  looked  like  their  daughter,  yes,  and  that  was  the  source  of  any  mild  tenderness  they'd  show  her.  but  her  mannerisms  were  her  father's  —  the  way  she  talked,  the  way  she  walked,  the  way  she  was  utterly  unafraid  of  blood  or  mess  or  dirt  or  the  dark.  they'd  pay  to  put  her  up  in  the  motel,  they  said,  but  they  would  not  welcome  her  into  their  home.  it  was  meant  to  be  temporary,  but  mare  was  like  a  badly  trained  dog.  once  she  had  her  teeth  around  something,  she  wouldn't  let  go  until  it  was  dead.

⋆  005.      MORE  .

somehow, mare has managed to stay in stonehaven by the skin of her teeth for the last six years. every time she saw her grandparents out and about in town she'd smile at them with an excessive amount of teeth and they'd avert their eyes. she has not heard from her father once, and though she obsessively stalks her sister's private instagram page (that she does not follow, just looks for any changes in profile picture or bio, etc.) they still have not spoken since emmalee left chino so long ago.

the choice to go to stonehaven college was not her own, but her grandparents' — they pretty much bankrolled her entire life in stonehaven whilst refusing to interact with her in any kind of face to face capacity, which mare suspects is because of guilt. the undeclared major suits her best — allowing her to shift her "interests" based on what suits her on the day.

she's a TRuUEEEEEE gemini in the way that she'll switch up her personality and interests based on the situation she's in and who she's hoping to impress. she has no real, solid personality beyond being minutely childish, easily upset and awkward — her entire life, she's been trying to live up to the expectations of people around her (or at least, the expectations that she expects that they have). she wants to be what other people want her to be, and most of the time she's just ... not good at it lmao. she often comes off as disingenuous, and that's because she usually is. that's where she would differ from a chameleon type lol —  she's more of a hiding behind a skinny tree and expecting no one to see you kind of guy.

tw gun/hunting mention her skill in shooting came from her childhood, direct from her time spent on the chicken farm with her father. she's more than a decent shot and has spent quite a huge chunk of time since they returned to stonehaven trying to rig up different traps from found materials that she can use to help feed the group. she's thrown herself into the job almost obsessively, mostly because she enjoys the feeling of being needed.

⋆  006.      WANTED CONNECTIONS  .

ma meilleure ennemie. (0/1, open to all) this would be frenemies to the core —  i hate you, but i love you so much that we keep this friendship going despite its disfunction. there's one good memory for every five bad ones, and yet they know each other better than anybody else. this could also def be a more one - sided thing, where mare is refusing to let go of your muse and they're slowly just realizing that the friendship no longer ... sparks joy ... for them djksjksjks. open to discussion for sure!

a big fat crush. (0/2, open to all) mare is the type of person to have crushes that look more like obsessions ... she's also the type to have multiple crushes going at once. this most likely would be entirely one - sided, but could also be reciprocated depending on your muse! either way, when mare looks at them into you by ariana grande starts playing in her head.

people she looks up to. (multiple, open to all) people she's trying to model herself after — your muse has something about them that mare finds endearing, cool, and/or attractive, and thus she either wants to be just like them or be liked by them — either will do. your muse can either have picked up on this or be oblivious so far, but mare isn't exactly subtle so they'll likely realize at some point.

someone who reminds her of her sister. (0/1, open to all) mare's sister was her only real parental figure growing up, and since she left their hometown when mare was 16, they haven't spoken. your muse reminds mare of her in some way (can be physical, personality wise or anything at all), and as a result mare has been giving them the cold shoulder. coming from somebody who's literally always trying to social climb and people please, this would be devastatingly obvious and probably VERY confusing for your muse.

an ex. ( 0/1, open to all) mare is obsessive and clingy and generally a lot —  no matter how serious or deep this relationship ran, it almost definitely was not a mutual break up. it most likely ended because your muse simply could not take it anymore — that, or because they realized that mare never really let her guard down around them and simply was herself. there could be lingering feelings, or they could be on pretty negative terms — whatever works best! up for discussion for sure!

literally anything else. hookups past or present, ex friends (probably has a few), people she had classes with, etc.

[goddamnmuses]

Blog Update!

Okay so you may have seen the muse interest tracker post I posted. I was never going to stop rping the muses I'm the most passionate about but some of the ones I'm not so much about I shall drop right now this is just one muse but theres a few I'm gonna be testing and if I aint feeling them I shall also just not make them permanent.

In - James 'Logan' Howlett aka Wolverine - Geralt of Rivia - Garrett Hawke aka Hawke from Dragon Age 2.

Out - Darro Orniel

Testing - William 'Billy' Butcher - Hank McCoy aka Beast (FC still being thought up, open to suggestions) - John Constantine - Death - Ben Grimm aka The Thing - Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul - Thor (From God of War.. might get confusing with Marvel's Thor but we'll cross that bridge) - Brian Braddock aka Captain Britain - Garfield Logan aka Beast Boy - The Joker - Dexter Morgan - Nergal Jr

I'll probably post a starter call for the test muses or something soon. Maybe a post giving some info on some of them too.

[oldschoolcrimefighters]

A Quick Analysis of Arline

Arline Griscom*, wife of Shadow agent Cliff Marsland, is one of those characters whom I adore for her potential rather than for what made it onto the page -- because, to be frank, the page barely gives us anything to work with, and what it does give us kinda sucks.

(*Note: I tag her as Arline Marsland, but she never canonically takes his last name.)

She is in the canon so little that I can -- and will -- transcribe her every appearance in this one post without hitting the picture limit -- and then proceed to wring them for every drop of information I can get. Join me, won't you.

Arline's first, largest, and only named appearance is in #009: Mobsmen on the Spot.

Before her actual appearance, Cliff rudely compares Madge Benton to her.

She was attractive, despite her freakish mode of dress. Too many sparkling rings. Too much makeup. Her blond hair, although effective in appearance, indicated peroxide treatments. Cliff mentally compared the woman with others he remembered from years ago; the others profited by the comparison -- particularly one --

Madge deserves her own post another time, but for now: fuck off, Cliff.

Elsewhere, in a seemingly-unrelated plot thread, we meet Arline.

The door opened and a charming young woman entered. From her manner, one might have placed her age at thirty; her face appeared much younger -- almost girlish. She made a beautiful picture as she stood, exquisitely gowned, against the dim background of the doorway. She was evidently returning from a party. "Come in, Arline," said Howard Griscom, as the woman hesitated. "Arline, you know Mr Ballantyne. This gentleman is Mr Cranston." The girl extended her hand. Lamont Cranston received the clasp, and his keen eyes stared steadily into hers. Arline seemed solemn as she returned the gaze. There was something in those eyes that fascinated her. Their keenness made her think of eyes that she had seen long ago -- the eyes of another man, a man she had tried to forget. As Cranston released her hand, Arline crossed the room and kissed Howard Griscom. The theater owner smiled as he saw Cranston watching them from the door. "My only daughter," he said. "My only child, now.["]

A brief physical description and a not-so-subtle foreshadowing of her connection to the other person in this book who's pining for their ex.

This, the earlier comparison to Madge, and a later mention of her looking up at Cliff are the only physical descriptions she ever gets. Based on that we can deduce that she's intended to be medium-height or smaller, perhaps even petite given her 'girlishness'; she's conventionally attractive by 1930s standards so likely slender and pale, and probably a natural blond to contrast Madge's peroxide blond. She has an elegant but not overly flashy sense of style and understated makeup, again based on Cliff's contrasting impression of Madge.

(You might notice I don't draw her this way. I design her the way I do for Reasons but I won't get into them now because this post is about canon.)

Fifty pages later she returns, and she gets a line!

While Bud Sherman was setting up the camera, Arline Griscom entered the office. The woman smiled pleasantly at Lamont Cranston, who bowed in return. She spoke to her father; then she noticed the camera, and asked why it was there. [Griscom answers.] [Cranston muses.] ["]Saturday afternoon is a time to expect trouble." "What's is [sic] the matter, Daddy?" questioned Arline. "Nothing, dear," replied Griscom. "I am going down to the theater office. Come along with me. [...]" As Griscom and his daughter left the office, Cranston spoke to Sherman.

'Daddy' from a thirty-year-old woman is kinda iffy now but not an unusual word choice for these books so I give it a pass. This scene doesn't really accomplish anything except to further establish Arline as a presence in the narrative.

This book really needed another editing pass, but I'm not sure how many of the typos and punctuation errors are original and how many can be blamed on my New English Library print.

Back with Cliff, we learn Arline is a society dame.

["]You don't ever think of any other woman, do you?" "Not now." Cliff had been thinking of another woman, one whose photograph he had seen in the society section of yesterday's newspaper.

And Cliff is a dirty liar.

Anyway, later.

The door opened and his daughter entered. Arline was beautiful today. She bowed politely to Lamont Cranston; then walked forward to greet her father. With his arm on the young woman's shoulder. Howard Griscom walked into the other office, while Arline spoke consolingly. [...] [Cranston] bade goodbye to the Griscoms as he left. Arline remained with her father for several minutes. Then she, too, departed.

One more fairly pointless scene to establish her presence.

She proceeds to be kidnapped off-screen.

He paused to answer the telephone, which had begun to ring. Belden watched him with catlike stealth. "Arline?" questioned Griscom. "Yes? What!" His face turned ashen. "I can't believe it. Tell me -- where are you now? What's that? If I say a word it may mean death -- to you? Arline! Arline!"

Howard Griscom does not heed this warning and contacts the police, Cliff fortunately gets a tip-off from Madge that leads him to where Arline's been taken, and we get a proper scene!

On the cot sat a young woman[,] her head resting upon her hand. She was alone. Cliff entered and closed the door noiselessly. He approached. She looked up and suppressed a startled cry. "Arline!" whispered Cliff. Sudden recognition dawned upon the woman. Before she could respond, Cliff had gripped her shoulders and had raised her to her feet. He kissed her, with all the ardor of forgotten years; then suddenly, he stepped away and bowed his head. "Forgive me, Arline," he said. "Forgive me. I forgot--" "Forgot what, Cliff?["] The woman was clinging to him now. She was looking up with tear-dimmed, pleading eyes. "Forgot that I'm a jailbird," said Cliff bitterly. "Just out of Sing Sing -- a few weeks ago --" "I didn't know that, Cliff," said Arline. "I've been waiting for you, Cliff, hoping that you'd come back to me." "But Arline--" "I know everything, Cliff. My brother told me -- before he died. It was for him that you went to prison -- and for me, Cliff! He had gone wrong, Cliff -- after father sent him away in a fit of anger. "When he came to your room, fleeing from the police, you took the blame for the robbery he had committed. You fought them with the gun you had taken from him, while he escaped. "He told me months later, after he came back home. He died, you know, after a terrible illness. Father was broken, Cliff. It would have killed him -- that's why I couldn't speak. "Brother had killed a man, too, before the robbery. That was never laid to you. If it had been, I would have spoken. Oh, Cliff--" The woman's voice choked -- "Can't you see that I've been waiting -- that I love you -- love you with a greater, fuller love --" Thoughts of danger were forgotten. Cliff was kissing Arline's tear-stained cheeks. All the grief of years had passed in a moment. Arline knew -- she understood -- and Cliff had not told her. He had remained true to his vow that he would protect the name of the brother of the woman he loved!

Not that we ever learn that brother's name. Seriously, that's a little weird. That's not the only weird thing here but I'll get to that in a second cuz our lovebirds still got shit to take care of.

Cliff whispered to Arline. "There's a woman here," he said. "Where is she?" "In the next room," replied Arline. "It adjoins this one. That's where -- where the brute who brought me here stays. He went out -- with another man. They will be back soon. "The woman -- her name is Madge -- was locked in here with me. She found the door to the next room open; but it was bolted from the outside like this one. She's there now. We must get her--" Arline's head dropped forward. She was about to fall from the chair. Dropping his automatic on the cot, Cliff grasped her before she slipped to the floor. As he steadied her, Arline recovered her senses and smiled. "I'm all right, Cliff," she said. "I'm all right, Cliff--"

Bad timing for a faint, but men in this series faint all the time -- including her dad earlier -- so I'm not gonna dock anything for that.

However, this is as good a point as any to bring up that Arline... really has zero agency. Here, she and Madge are being held together, and it's only Madge who does anything about it. Arline stays behind with her head in her hands while Madge gets to a phone to call for help.

I can imagine scenarios where that's reasonable. What I can't fathom is that Arline never did anything about Cliff, the man she supposedly loves. Sure, her dad seems fragile and maybe trying to overturn the ruling would've killed him -- but she couldn't visit? She couldn't write? Her brother confessed after months, what the hell was she doing for seven years?

Especially considering that passivity is not reflected in her actions to follow.

They get caught, Cliff tries to go for the dropped gun but fails.

Cliff sprawled unconscious. Arline leaped toward him with a small cry of anguish. Shires caught her with one arm and laughed.

I won't transcribe the whole scene but Shires proceeds to manhandle Arline and try to kiss her. She slaps him, manages to break free and backs away against a wall.

Shires's boss Durgan then shoots him, mistaking him for the guy Madge has been sleeping around with.

Arline, startled and bewildered, had her first glimpse of sudden death when she saw the gangster crumple on the floor. Durgan stood above the body, gloating.

As Durgan quickly realizes his mistake, Arline also springs into action.

Arline Griscom realized Killer Durgan's intention. She had been horrified at the sight of death; now, her love for Cliff spurred her to desperation. She flung herself upon the brutal murderer and battled tooth and nail, while Cliff tried vainly to rise. With a mighty effort, Durgan flung the struggling woman against the wall. Before she could regain her feet, she saw his arm turn toward the corner where Cliff lay. Two shots roared. Arline screamed. Then she stared bewildered.

Of course, the shots were not from Durgan.

Then Arline realized whence the shots had come. The outer door of the room had opened. There stood a man in black, garbed in a flowing cloak. [...] Cliff was rising now. Arline could see his tense gaze directed toward the man in black. Cliff's lips were moving. "The Shadow!" he was saying. "The Shadow!" A low soft laugh came from the man in black. It was the strangest laugh that Arline had ever heard. It chilled her; it frightened her, for it carried a tone of menace. Yet, instinctively, she knew that the laugh was one of triumph -- that the man in black had come as a friend. She knew that she and Cliff had been saved[.] [...] [The Shadow] saw Arline rise to meet Cliff. Again The Shadow laughed. Suddenly, he turned and disappeared through the doorway. Cliff had fully regained his senses. The back of his head was aching; but he had one desire that made him forget that pain. He must take Arline from this room of horror! He steadied the woman with his arm. Together, they made their way to the hall. Before them lay an open door that led to a stairway. They followed the path ahead. They reached a side alley and walked through to the street beyond. Cliff hailed a cab. Arline leaned against him as they rode toward her home. She was weak, but happy. She had found the man she loved! He had come to rescue her, against great odds!

D'aww.

So... yeah. When the chips are down, she doesn't faint, she doesn't run, she doesn't sit back and scream (although those are all valid responses). She fights. She fights for herself, she fights for Cliff. She watches people get shot and she pulls herself together and goes after the killer with her bare hands.

You mean to tell me that this dainty little society lady did not lift a finger in seven-plus years but is ready to go toe to toe with a guy literally called Killer? Nah, that doesn't add up.

Back to the story, Shads goes to clear up some loose ends and we get an epilogue with Cliff and Arline.

Cliff Marsland was reading the latest copy of the New York Sphere. The newspaper was a week old. Arline Griscom smiled as she saw him devouring the reports. They were on their honeymoon in France. Howard Griscom had suggested the trip. Arline had told her father the truth about her brother. He had borne it easily, for the ending of his recent worries had made him able to stand a shock from the past. [...] Arline uttered an exclamation of delight as she saw a headline over Cliff's shoulder. She pointed to it.

The headline is about her dad's theater merger going through. Cliff has some thoughts about The Shadow's unstated role behind the various headlines, and then the book ends. Happy ending, they're married now, yaaay. (Although, as I noted before, she does not appear to take his last name.)

So here we have a character who is closely connected to a Shadow agent, who knows he works for The Shadow, and knows that The Shadow is a trusted friend -- but who doesn't work for him, herself. Is that not fascinating? What kind of wrinkles does her presence create? What skills does she bring to the table? How does she get utilized by the narrative?

The answer is, she... doesn't.

Cliff and Arline aren't in book 10. In #011: Double Z, Shads gathers his troops.

--another man who had business in New York was opening a letter at his breakfast table in his home in New Jersey. This was Cliff Marsland, a veteran of the World War, who had done his part in a recent campaign against the New York racketeers. [...] "Darling," he said to his wife, "I think it would be a good idea for you to take that Florida trip with your father. So plan to leave with him tonight. I have work to do that may take me away for a while--"

Scene change. She is not named. She doesn't get a reaction.

In the next book, #012: The Crime Cult, Cliff is once again on a job and making excuses for why he hasn't been in New York, but the truth is--

Cliff was married to the daughter of a theater owner. His wife and his father-in-law were now in Europe. During their absence, Cliff Marsland was back in service with The Shadow.

And then... that's it. She is never mentioned again. She doesn't die, she doesn't divorce Cliff, she's just quietly forgotten.

And it's such a waste.

I won't claim she's well-written or anything. I think I've made it clear here that she is not. She's mostly defined by the men in her life -- Cliff's wife, Griscom's daughter, even her unnamed brother -- and is passive to the point she barely exists away from the page.

But good god the potential is there, and that potential fascinates me.

I have so many thoughts and headcanons and questions about Arline, but this post is long enough, so I'll conclude with this:

I love Arline. I love Cliff being a happily married man. If I ever got a chance to make a Shadow adaptation, I would absolutely keep Arline around-- and delve into what she was getting up to for seven years, because I don't buy that she was just demurely attending society events while the man she loved languished in prison. No way.

I love her, your honor.

[falsebooles123]

Diary of a Big Ole Gay - 2/21/2023

Hey whores, I realized that its been a minute but I've lost a bit of steam this month on my Search for gay smooches. but lets get this out of the way not because I don't want to make you cum emotional, intellectional, and academically but because daddy is very busy this week and he wants to make sure that we have some time together before I have to get back to work. *kisses*

(sorry that metaphor got away from me by which I mean it became aggresively sexual... woops)

I Was a Male War Bride (1949) dir. Howard Hawks

This was a recent favorite of this list which is ironic because its the least gayest film on this list. I was a Male War Bride is essentially one half enemies to lovers and one half bueracratic farce as Cary Grant deals with a goverment system that expects a women but gets a man. In some small sense thats pretty politically clear but this film is objectively straight in a pretty wholesome way. You have what is clearly a partnership of equals and cary grant is put into this submissive role as the male in the relationship.

The Reason why its on this list is that Cary Grant does drag in this. I noticed that moving into the post war not only does the use of cross-dressing deminish but the Coquette Drag, (serving fish, serving cunt, hunty), is replaced with Edward S. Porter Spinster drag. These men are supposeed to look uggo honey. TBF cary grant has a very butch face so its a bit of a miss sweedie situration but the producers purposely wanted him to appear "manish" in his depiction. Honestly compare this with Some Like It Hot.

Testament of Orpheus (1960) dir. Jean Cocteau

The ending of the Orphic Trilogy, its arthouse in the most aggresively way possible. We see a lot of his stylistic choices and what we get is a Sister Age-esque story of coming to terms with death.

This film is a little more visually gayer then Orpheus. Cocteau gropes his muse a bunch in this but if anything this series is the epitome of the Gay Artiste trope and while very Kinema very Movie Critic, it has a lack of overt queer text that I'm looking for on this list.

Olivia (1951) dir. Jacqueline Audry

A spiritual sucessor to Madchen in Uniform this is a movie that is more gay in the sense that theres more lesbians in it. This film has a lot of similar elements, (the gynocentric world of a isolated boarding school and mommy kinks), but it for me at least doesn't have the same queer longing that I loved about MIU.

However this is a must watch for the sapphics so don't listen to the man-words of this little homo.

Everything Else I Watched.

oof lets see the entire filmography of Emile Reynaud. First 20 Bitesize Nightmares shorts. The Prom Night, Ginger Snaps, Cube, and Rec Sequels. Slumber Party Massacre 2. Some shorts from Bruce of Los Angelas, Every Stag Film on LB except for the Virgin in Hot Pants. Oh and Battleship Potemkin. So I've been busy watching other stuff.

Also shout out to Raquel 1:1(2022) I reviewed it for Breaking Glass and its actually pretty good.

[lord-emerson]

An Apology of Sorts

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Howard Underhouse/Oswald J. Emerson

Tags: Jealousy, Fingering, Against a Wall, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Hate Sex/Makeup Sex, (?) hell if I know how these two feel about each other at any given moment

Words: 1001

Summary: Happy Kinktober! This fic is a direct follow up to this exchange between Howard and Oz. If you'd like to see Howard being a complete asshole about leaving Oswald in the dark but making it up to him with orgasms, boy have I got a treat for you.

What a despicable man. Despicable and entitled, though the latter came as no surprise to Oswald. This marked the second time Howard showed up to his apartment uninvited. At least this time he had the decency to knock first.

“No flowers?” Oswald asked, arms crossed over his chest. It was unclear how much of his demeanor was caused by genuine hurt and how much was simple affectation. Nonetheless, he stepped to the side, allowing Howard to enter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you have liked me to bring you a bouquet of Surface roses to cheer you up?” Howard mused as he entered the dark and cramped foyer.

“God, no,” Oswald admitted. He did not try to hide the disgust from his voice. Fucking roses.

“That’s what I thought.”

Howard shut the door behind himself, showing no intention of moving any further into the apartment. Instead, he reached out in the dimness of the foyer and laid his hands on the man’s hips. Oswald scoffed.

“Always so presumptuous. Do I look like I want to be touched by you, Howard?” He said, making no attempt to pull away.

Howard chuckled. He ran his fingers over the edge of Oswald’s trousers, threatening to dip lower… but not yet. Not until Oswald asked for it.

“I don’t know, do you?” Howard’s hands were now playing with Oswald’s suspenders, fingers hooked behind the clasp. Dancing up the length of them, brushing past the man’s crossed arms. Suddenly grabbing ahold of them and pulling Oswald flush against himself. “I would have to check, my sweet.”

The lack of candlelight did little to mask the intensity of Oswald’s gaze. He took a deep, slow breath, raising his head in a half-nod.

“Fine. Be my guest.”

A satisfactory answer. Still, Howard decided to make sure that the answer to his previous inquiry would be exactly what he wanted it to be, too.

He let go of the man, still hovering in his space. Howard leisurely began to unravel the bandages around the fingers of his right hand, one by one. Oswald’s eyes followed the movement, his expression inscrutable. Once finished with his task, Howard reached out to brush a few marvelous gray strands away from Oswald’s face. When he cupped his cheek, the gesture felt almost tender.

A contrast, perhaps, with his other hand which returned to its position above Oswald’s trousers. It slowly slid past the seam, following the trail of soft hair down his breaches, until…

“There you are.”

He spread Oswald’s lips, relishing in the wetness that awaited him there. The fire in Oswald’s expression did not flicker. Howard met it with a satisfied smirk.

For a few torturous moments, they stood in silence. Howard, confident and cheerful. Oswald, unreadable and stern. What could Howard possibly say to break that stubborn facade?

The answer to that, of course, had nothing to do with words.

Quick as an asp, Howard pushed the taller man against the wall. His fingers met no resistance as they slipped inside him, eliciting a sudden gasp from Oswald. Oswald shut his mouth, unwilling to treat Howard to any more noises that betrayed his eagerness.

It was no easy task, however. His lover was smiling at him, innocent as anything, as his fingers moved and curled inside him with single-minded focus. Oswald tilted his head back; a poor attempt at hiding the desperation on his face as his nails dragged across the wood paneling behind him, scrambling for purchase.

“Is this asking nicely enough for you, my dear?” Howard purred, leaning into Oswald’s shoulder. His lips hung above Oswald’s neck, hot breath searing his skin like a brand.

“Ask… ask me again in five minutes,” Oswald said. Half-lidded gaze defiant still.

“Mmm, I was thinking three at most.”

“Big words for such a tiny- ahh!” Oswald screwed his eyes shut, trying to bite back another moan. Despite his best efforts, another flick of Howard’s wrist managed to earn the man a drawn-out whimper.

“God, you’re desperate,” Howard whispered, his voice tinged with awe. Oswald was about to disagree (this was him holding back actually, thank you very much) when he noticed he’d been mindlessly grinding against Howard’s palm, fucking himself on his fingers.

Shit.

Well, you can’t win them all, can you?

With that, he threw his arms around Howard’s neck, pulling him into his chest. Howard hummed against his collarbone — whether out of smugness or appreciation, it was unclear. He then lifted his head to speak.

“Can’t get this in the Khanate,” Howard chuckled. “Not that I haven’t been looking.”

Oswald could feel his veins turn to ice. Those experienced fingers, drawing keens and moans out of him, were experienced for a reason. Here, with Howard, he could almost forget… But of course, he hasn’t been with Howard for almost a month, that’s why he was so annoyed in the first place. To think that during that time, when he was on a mission across the Unterzee, Howard would… Those fingers would…

Oswald cried out as his release washed over him, brought about by those d__ned fingers. Pleasure and shame mingled together as his legs grew weak, forcing him to put even more of his weight on the spiteful little man below him.

For what it was worth, Howard did not gloat. He held Oswald firmly in his arms, nuzzling his neck until he could feel his lover sigh and straighten up once more. Then he casually removed his soaked hand and wiped it on a handkerchief.

“I do hope I’ve made up for my transgressions, dearest. I’d hate to see the two of us grow apart.”

Cloyingly sweet words, spoken with his usual charm. How else was a man like Howard supposed to reckon with the truth of his feelings, if not by hiding behind a rakish veneer?

“You didn’t. Not even close, darling,” Oswald said. “But you will.”

He grabbed Howard’s throat and backed him into the opposite wall. Howard grinned up at him — pupils blown wide, eyes sparkling with anticipation.