#'confirming' the statement that actually came from there in the first place

[homo-house]

re:hbomberguy, on the topic of citing sources, i want to say:

it is insane how many people on here don't even click the sources op links on their own post to learn more and just hit reblog saying "oh my i didn't know about this thank you for teaching me!". like guys CLICK THE LINK!! CHECK THE NOTES!!! CHECK THE SOURCE!.... i swear half the time the link is dead or takes you to a nonsense page (i see this a lot with art specifically???? and excerpts from magazines??) and some times the linked source disproves a claim the very post that linked it made and people just. don't bother to check, no one bothers to even reblog saying "hey that link is dead! here's a new, working link!" or "hey that link doesn't work, can you link the source again?" and when it comes to misinformation people just share without checking or looking at the notes where numerous people will (in the best case scenario) already be pointing out the misinformation

"OH BUT I CAN'T CHECK EVERYTHING I SEE ON THE INTERNET" there is a surefire way to prevent spreading this kind of stuff even if you don't have the time to fact check immediately. just accept it's fine to save a post for later if you can't look deeper into it right now!!!!! literally just reblog it in private or save the post as a draft so you can come back to it later and check. it won't kill you and in fact it will actually make your life a lot better lol

[grandline-fics]

Dream A Little Dream

DESCRIPTION: They hear you say their name in your sleep

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Killer, Smoker, | Law, Sabo

WORDS: 1,790

A/N: I've been hating how some of the requests I've been working on were turning out so I've paused them to go back to this idea with some other characters. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

KILLER

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No. I don’t.”  Killer looked up from the stove at the sound of your argument with Wire came closer to the kitchen. Nothing disputes were always common around the ship so usually he didn’t pay them much mind but Killer always found himself taking a little more notice to things when they involved you.

“How do you even know? You’re asleep.” Wire argued as you both entered the kitchen, not noticing the vice-captain right away. Killer watched as you leaned against the counter and rolled your eyes at your crewmate. “What’s the big deal anyway? So what if you talk in your sleep?”

“It’s not the claim I talk in my sleep, it’s just that I don’t believe you, Wire.” You explained, turning to stare at your crewmate suspiciously. “I mean it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to prank me. Unless you can get proof that I talk in my sleep or someone else- that isn’t just Heat- confirms it, then I’ll believe you.” You shrugged simply and finally turned to acknowledge your vice-captain with a smile now that the matter was dropped. “What’s for dinner?”

Late that night, Killer rose from the heavy haze of sleep that he had to force himself to resist falling back into. With a long, low groan, he stretched out his body and rubbed his tired eyes before settling his mask firmly into place. Rolling his shoulders and pulling his clothes on he dragged his heavy limbs out of his bed and absently walked through the ship until he was climbing the Crow’s Nest to relieve Gig. Wishing the other crew member a goodnight, Killer settled back and readied himself for what he could already tell would be a calm and uneventful watch shift. However he was surprised after a couple hours to see the hatch open and you appeared. 

“You’re not on the roster for tonight…” He noted, watching you close the hatch and adjust the blanket and pillow under your other arm. 

“Nope, tomorrow night.” You confirmed. “I always come up here when I have trouble sleeping. Is it okay if I join you?”

“Of course it is, make yourself comfortable.” Killer gestured you to pick somewhere to sit. You smiled happily and Killer returned it despite his smile being hidden beneath his mask. As you moved to settle in the seats near him, he tried to remain as relaxed as he could. Even with a single seat separating you both, he could still feel the natural warmth you always exuded, both a comfort and distraction for him. 

Killer watched as you placed the pillow on the windowsill and tucked your arms underneath it, deciding to forgo actually lying down so you could face him properly and idly chat with him through his watch. Eventually though Killer noticed your eyes were drooping and your voice would thicken, your statements broken by yawns in a signal that you’d finally fall to sleep. It wasn’t long before your breathing evened out and the peaceful silence fell. Killer turned his head away from you, deciding to actually finish his task and keep watch. He only had another couple hours and he’d be finished. Every so often through that time he’d hear you shift slightly and let out soft mumbles but for the most part you slept completely silent. Then your voice drifted up. “Hm…Kil…”

“Yeah? What’s-” Killer turned his head only to pause to see you were still fast asleep. Immediately he shut his mouth and continued to watch you sleep. While you’d said the beginning of his name, he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions that you were actually dreaming about him. After all a lot of words started with ‘kil’ and you could have been saying anything. 

“Killer…ask me out already…” Killer all but choked on his tongue, not expecting that but he definitely wasn’t complaining. Clearing his throat he composed himself just in time for the hatch to fly open and crash loudly against the floor causing you to jump awake and look around in startled confusion. Your eyes landed on Wire who arrived for his watch and with a huff you controlled your racing heart. 

“Oh oops, you were sleeping?” Wire asked before his eyes lit up. “You were sleeping! Killer, did they talk?” Immediately your heart began to race again and you looked to Killer who remained outwardly calm. 

“Nope, not a word.” He stated while getting up and stretched his stiff muscles, glad to go back to his own bed. Just before he could close his door, you appeared, hand bracing against the wood and stopping him. “What’s up?”

“You lied to Wire.” You stated and Killer’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I always win at poker because I know your tell when you lie. I did talk in my sleep, why didn’t you tell him what I said?”

“Well I think what was said would be best kept between us.” Killer smirked, emboldened by how adorably confused you looked. Then in the depths of your mind you must have recalled what you were dreaming about because your eyes widened and a small gasp broke free. 

“Night Kil, see you in the morning.” You quickly uttered, stepping back and hurrying to your room, your steps faltering when he called after you. “It’s a date.” 

SMOKER

You stared at the mountain of paperwork already waiting on your desk as you entered your office that morning. You’d stayed up so late clearing your desk only to see even more waiting for you. Slowly you looked at the mug of coffee in your hand and back to the paperwork and sighed heavily. It was going to be a long day and most likely night, you could already tell. Bracing yourself you sat down at your desk and lifted the first file waiting for you and your eye twitched immediately. Yeah, it was going to be a very, very long day. By midmorning your patience all but snapped and you made a list of the people responsible for your swiftly soured mood and left to go to the transmission room. Lifting the receiver you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction stir within you as you began your announcement. 

“Attention G-5. Due to personnel ignoring protocol and handing in multiple reports from previous missions at once, a backlog has occurred. Until these reports have been fully processed the following Marines are prohibited from active duty off base. No exceptions.” You paused to let the beginning announcement set in, already you could hear a chorus of voices coming from outside the room. Then you began to clearly and concisely read out the long list of names of the offenders. 

From the training yard, Smoker and the others stopped to listen to the names being echoed through the speakers. As he ground his teeth against the cigars in his mouth he couldn’t help the mounting frustration as he recognised a lot of the names on his list were part of the unit he was meant to be going out on a mission with in just a couple days time. As Commander of the base he was sorely tempted to go against the transmission but at the same time he supposed these Marines needed to be taught a lesson in not just handing in bulk reports last minute. He also recognised the voice as yours and he didn’t want to annoy you given he was attracted to you too. Perhaps he could convince you to process certain Marines first. “The personnel on this list will be notified when they are cleared for duty again. Thank you.”

Smoker sighed heavily and within seconds he heard the multitude of voices surging up, all of them calling for him. Before he’d even gotten out of the training yard he was already swarmed by those who’d now been placed off-duty and asking him to pull strings or pull rank and still let them go on their missions. With a headache growing, Smoker glared at them all into shutting up and backing off before he made his way to your office. He knocked once and entered.

“How long will they take to process? There’s a mission-”

“That’s occurring in two days time, I’m aware.” You noted with a small nod, not even bothering to look up at him. You weren’t even surprised that he’d come here. It was inevitable he’d appear sooner rather than later. “I can only go as fast as I can and like I said, multiple reports are handed in at once. It’s a lot to go through.”

“Can the other administrators assist you-”

“Not without them neglecting their reports to process and this incident ends up getting larger.” You shook your head before settling your hands on the desk and looking up at him, Smoker immediately saw the tiredness in your eyes. He began to wonder how long this kept happening and today was the first time you decided to finally take action to prove a point. 

“Do you need anything?” He asked, eyeing the stacks of reports warily. He had to admit paperwork wasn’t his strength. You smiled softly, appreciating his offer but you shook your head. 

“Thank you but I’m fine.” 

Late that night Smoker was making his way through the corridors in his usual patrol before going to bed when he spotted the light coming through your open door. He knew you had a habit of staying up late but this was bad even for you. Were you forcing yourself to stay up even later to see process everyone as soon as possible? Smoker approached the door and saw you sleeping on the sofa against the wall in the room. You must have only intended to only take a small nap before going back to work again but your body had other ideas. Stepping inside he kept his steps as quiet as he could but it seemed he wasn’t quiet enough because you started to stir. “Smoker…”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Smoker told you but stopped beside you and saw you were still completely unconscious. You were dreaming and saying his name? Smoker couldn’t help but smirk when his name slipped from your lips again and you let out a small sigh.

“Be safe, Smoker…” You mumbled, your face scrunching in adorable annoyance. “Hand your report in on time.”

“Sure, you got it.” Smoker chuckled before reaching down to grab the blanket off the back of the sofa a drape it over you before leaving you to rest while also making sure to see to it that from now on everyone handed in their reports on time.

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf

[yamayuandadu]

Is Humbaba's appearance ever described in detail in any written sources? When looking online, I keep seeing artists depicting him in very specific ways (head covered in entrails, scaly skin, snake phallus...), but I'm having trouble finding the sources for those same specific details

This is something I've spent quite a lot of time investigating myself last year when I was working on his wiki article. The short answer is that not really, but we can piece something together from the available scraps - and it’s not really similar to the modern standard you're describing. You are definitely looking in the right places for Humbaba information if you found no trace of these traits - only one of them goes back directly to an actual source, and even then it’s less firm than it might seem at first glance. More under the cut. 

The textual sources are actually very lax when it comes to describing Humbaba’s appearance, What is emphasized are his supernatural powers and authority granted by the gods - Wer (they set this guy up like he’s the next arc villain in a shonen in the Old Babylonian version’s Sippar fragments) and Enlil or Enlil alone. There’s a decent chance he was viewed as largely human-like. Andrew R. George ( The Babylonian Gilgamesh epic: introduction, critical edition and cuneiform texts, p. 144) describes him as “essentially anthropomorphic” though speculates he might have been imagined as tree-like. Multiple considerations regarding Humbaba’s iconography can be found in the articles from Gilgamesch: Ikonographie eines Helden, especially in Lambert’s and Collon’s. Collon essentially just concludes that Humbaba was simply depicted as an unusually tall and/or broad but still largely human-like figure, Lambert notes similarities to the lahmu (so we’re still within the realm of burly hairy men, essentially). Piotr Michalowski (A Man Called Enmebaragesi, p. 205-206) argues that at least in the standalone narratives Humbaba was essentially a parody of various peripheral “barbarian” rulers. It is perhaps worth pointing out that while the etymology of Humbaba’s name is up for debate, it is clear that it was originally an ordinary personal name, and individuals bearing it appear in administrative texts from the Ur III period before Humbaba the literary character arose.

While myths and the epic itself are lax, plenty of information about Humbaba’s appearance can be found in other genres of texts. This evidence has been collected by George (same monograph as above, p. 146-147). His face was regarded as outlandish, with a bulbous nose and big eyes. There are references to diviners spotting Humbaba’s face while analyzing animal entrails. An artistic representation of this phenomenon is seemingly known from one exemplar, and is the source of “entrails-faced” Humbabas in modern work.

A unique sculpture from Neo-Babylonian Sippar seen above (you can view it from more sides here) is inscribed with a short formula starting with “If the coils of the colon resemble the head of Huwawa”, and has accordingly been described as the visual representation of this statement since the 1920s. Identification as Humbaba has been affirmed for example by Anthony Green in his 1997 article Myths in Mesopotamian Art (p. 137-138 + 150 for a confirmation of the museum number; published in Sumerian Gods and their Representations; you can find it online,it’s worth checking out since it also includes timeless classics like Wiggermann’s Transtigridian Snake Gods and Westenholz’s Nanaya, Lady of Mystery). I’m not actually aware of any parallels, but it’s a cool, striking visual and I personally don’t find its modern fame undeserved.

However, it needs to be stressed that it’s not standard. Humbaba’s face is also quite common in visual arts. In fact, it’s so common that Frans Wiggermann (Mesopotamian Protective Spirits: the ritual texts, p. 150) argues that the face came first, with the name perhaps representing a unique sound made by the creature while grinning or laughing (what is this, One Piece?) and only developed into a literary character later. These images served an apotropaic purpose guarding doors (examples have been discovered in situ), appear chiefly in Old Babylonian times, and show remarkably consistent traits, here are some I’ve assembled for the wiki article last year:

Scaly skin doesn’t show up anywhere as a trait of Humbaba’s, as far as I am aware. That’s Tishpak’s thing. However, it is perhaps worth noting that a type of lizard, ḫuwawītum, was named after Humbaba (George, p. 145). This was discussed briefly by Claus Wilcke a long time ago in Humbaba’s entry in the Reallexikon (p. 535); he pointed out the animal was compared to a gecko or what he identified as some variety of agamid. Not sure if anyone ever tried identifying it more precisely with any species of reptile which can be found in Iraq or Syria. Given Humbaba’s apparently outlandish looking eyes my first thought was a chameleon, honestly, but don’t quote me on that, plus note that it seems chameleons were called bargunna (or bargungunna).

As for the other reptilian matter, snake phallus is a part of Pazuzu's iconography (see his Reallexikon entry by Wiggermann, p. 377), not Humbaba's. As far as I can tell, the Humbaba plaque above is naked and shows no such characteristics. Many other possible depictions of Humbaba show him in some sort of kilt with no phallus of any sort in sight (see the numerous seals shown in Collon’s article mentioned above, for instance). I know the snake phallus claim was even on wikipedia at some point - long before my involvement - but it doesn’t come up in any publication about Humbaba I read from within the past 40 years.

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 5

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

Reading your own Wikipedia page is quite a strange experience. Paragraph after paragraph of your life written on the internet for everybody to see, from the day you were born all the way to this very moment. 

You do not know if the fact that none of it is true is for better or worse. 

Some parts are accurate, information about your hometown, date of birth, relatives' names and... that’s about it really. According to this biography, not only have you been the runner-up for a Formula 3 championship, but you are also a Formula 2 champion, which is good you guess, for someone that did not even know those kinds of competitions existed. As of two hours ago, Formula One was the only championship with those kinds of cars you had ever heard about, but there are so many. Too many actually. In a section of your page named ‘junior racing career’ —which is in itself a crazy sentence to read—, it even says something about karting’s championships and an academy thing, concepts you are not sure if you want to understand. 

Oh, and the most important part, you are a Formula 1 driver, a statement endlessly repeated throughout the text. They even claim this to be your second year on the motorsport, ‘not a rookie anymore’ they say, as if yesterday’s race was not the first one you have ever watched from start to finish. 

Still, if being pushed into a Formula One car and a whole Wikipedia page was not enough of a confirmation, you can find a million articles online that certify your participation in the sport. Webs filled with photos of you with the cars, dressed in full gear and with that stupid blue helmet, the situation getting worse and worse with every tap of your finger. 

How is any of this possible? 

The rabbit hole that seems to be your ‘life’ keeps you awake night after night, new information slapping you in the face every two minutes while you try to navigate what appears to be a Formula One driver’s normal schedule. Nick makes sure of that last part at least. 

The first step on that agenda had been to fly out of Austria, a place you cannot comprehend how you had arrived to when you were in Spain just yesterday. It is not like you were having the best time of your life there, finishing the third month of your external internship in a city you thought was already too far away from home, but this change looks a bit excessive. The possibility of being in a completely different country had seemed so absurd at first, when a list called Austrian GP came up as one of the top results in your research, and yet with a simple look to the navigation app, your worst nightmare had been confirmed. From your trip to the airport, to the arrival to another country, France, and to a new hotel, Nick walking you through every step of the process and only leaving you alone once you are back in the hotel room. 

The next few days follow a similar dynamic, mornings spent trailing behind Nick without a clue of what happens around you and long nights glued to the phone, the date for the next GP —or whatever they call it— getting closer and closer.  

You are not ready to repeat last Sunday’s events, an engine failure had saved you from the inevitable end, but you might not be so lucky next time. There is no way you are stepping into that car again, that is for sure, and even less so when you have not figured out what brought you here in the first place.  

Although you had drowned yourself in information about your supposed life the first nights in France, the need to discover what was happening to you had quickly managed to overpower that curiosity. From the moment Nick knocks on your door early on the morning to the hours you lay awake on bed looking for anything that could explain this madness, you spend every second of the day looking for an explanation.  

A kidnapping had been the most credible theory from day one, the way you had woken up to all those screams and the men surrounding you, how Nick had come into your hotel room that morning and pushed you to drive with no regard for your safety. It made sense. However, the articles posted all over the internet told a very different story. There is too much information about you, some posts even dating back to when you were a child, photos and videos that cannot be simply edited and uploaded to make you believe you have gone crazy. You have driven a Formula One car on an official race, for crying out loud, that is not something anybody can orchestrate. 

To be honest, the whole Formula One thing had knocked down quite a few of your guesses. What could someone gain from making you, a nobody, believe they are a motorsport driver?   

In fact, the only theory that could easily explain everything that had happened to you in the past few days is that: none of this is real. A dream. You can vividly remember dozing off on your bed, that sensation of falling down and then suddenly waking up in that unfamiliar place. It could be the reason why you had blacked out when the car exited the garage, why everyone knew you, and could also explain the existence of all those false stories on the internet.  

You had made all of this up. 

That had indeed been one of your first assumptions, or at least had been an easy way for your mind to let go of all the worries in such an unnerving situation. If this was not real, there was nothing to stress about, no danger in sight. Your alarm will go off any moment now and you will be one day closer to ending this internship and going back home. Tomorrow will be a new day. 

Despite this, as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder to hold onto this happy thought. 

Stepping foot into the new track is a breaking point. It is Friday, five days have gone by and nothing has changed, the countdown to the next race weighting down on your mind as you walk through what Nick had called the paddock. It is that strange street again, the one lined by those colorful buildings but in a completely different country —another clue that this was indeed not real, you were clearly lacking imagination to be recycling sceneries like this. 

They had brough you here yesterday as well, for a tour around the track that had set your nerves alight. Thankfully, you had done nothing but wander around the circuit for a while, be surrounded by a couple cameras, have a meeting with the engineers and go back to the hotel for another sleepless night.  

Maybe you should sleep more —which sounds quite contradictory when you are supposedly already dreaming— because, when the events of last Sunday start repeating themselves, you do not even have the strength to push back. Nick manages once again to lure you into the white building and prepare you for what he calls practice, but the reality is that just the sight of that Formula One car on the garage makes you heart drop to the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t worry about times,” a man who has been following you all day says “Let’s see if everything feels good first and we’ll talk things over for FP2”.  

A lot of changes had been made to the car since Austria, that is what all the meetings had been about. You had silently sat down through all of them, nodding along to the engineers’ words as if you understood any of it. 

Now that you are seated in the car, blue helmet and jumpsuit on, you can only wish that whatever broke the car in Austria has not been fixed. That the engine won’t even start, and you will have to retire again. It is hard enough to listen to the rest of the cars exiting their own garages, their engines revving like they might explode.  

How they have managed to put you on the spot yet again, that you do not understand. And it is not only a one-time thing, but they easily make you jump in the car later the day for a second practice. 

When you are finally helped out of the car the second time, body uncontrollably trembling and a static sound filling your ears, you feel an unusual sense of calmness. The whole ride had felt like such a clear sign that none of this is real, it can’t be. Both practices had gone by in the blink of an eye, just like it had happened in Austria, a fade to black and you are back where you started. You do not even remember seeing other cars on the road or how you got back to the garage. Nothing. The only proof that you had driven around for hours being the fatigue consuming your body, something that backs the dreaming theory up so perfectly. 

They say you have done great though, so that is something.  

Nevertheless, it feels nice to be back on normal clothes, like there is less of a target on your back for the cameras and other strangers, but it is still difficult to keep a low profile when you are walking through the paddock with the team’s merchandising. Nick is guiding you out to the last meeting of the day, after you have fulfilled all the media duties and team reunions that have kept you on the track since your arrival this morning. He says this driver’s briefing thing should not last long, that it is quite late already, and they are probably thinking more about going back home than anything.  

The meeting is on another building, one you had not even noticed in your two days here, Nick leading you inside and up some stairs until you find the meeting room. When he opens the door, you realize there is already people seated inside, the sound of their mixed talks now filling the long corridor. You recognize some of them, not from the team meetings but from Austria, other drivers.  

The room is furnished as a classroom, a projector on the right wall and the rest of the space filled with rows of chairs. There are not many people in it yet, Nick had said it would be better to get there early before people start crowding the entrance and now you understood why. Your gaze instantly zeroes in on Lewis, a tiny smile pulling at your lips while Nick guides you to some seats, deciding to leave your things with him and go say hello. You have not seen him since Austria, after you had spent the entire pre-race ceremony talking to him, and now that you have kind of ruled out the possibility that he is a kidnapper, you have realized that maybe he was just being nice. 

Yet, before you can take more than two steps away from Nick, you feel someone pulling at your hand. You come to a sudden stop, looking back to see a man seated in the row in front of you and Nick’s seat regarding you with a huge grin on his lips. He has dark hair and big brown eyes that seem to be staring into your soul. 

“Oh c’mon, you’re not even going to say hello because I didn’t get you cookies last week?” the man chuckles, tilting his head as he looks up at you like he cannot believe what you were about to do “Isn’t that too much?” 

Even though his tone is light and jokey, you cannot help but frown at him. Why would you greet him when you don’t know him in the first place? And why is he holding your hand? 

Instead of letting go when you stand there in silence, too stunned to react to his words, he decides to pull you down into the seat next to his “Didn’t Charles get you some? You are being greedy at this point” he jokes once you are seated, not a word leaving your lips. 

Oh, Charles, you remember him from Austria as well. Actually, he was wearing the same exact red shirt as this man, a detail that the abrupt start of the conversation had left you blind to. The Ferrari logo in both his chest and cap are even more of a telltale of who he must be. Charles’ teammate. 

“They were nice...” you respond, crossing your legs and relaxing back on the chair now that you have gathered your bearings. It is true, you had been munching on those cookies throughout the race after your disqualification, Nick bringing them over to you as a treat to distract you. 

The man shakes his head in disbelief, smile widening as he assures you “I'll get you a full basket next time, don’t worry” 

The promise genuinely makes you smile, he seems nice. 

“How’s the car doing?” the man queries, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around 

You can almost feel the media training kicking in, pre-made phrases hanging off the tip of your tongue, they have been putting a microphone in your face and asking you about it all morning. Nonetheless, you manage to push it all down, it finally feels like you are having a normal conversation after this stressful week, you are not about to parrot the engineers' words for the millionth time “Well, it hasn’t caught fire yet...”  

The man seems to like that answer, letting out a giggle and a “That’s an improvement” while he nods in understanding. There is a moment of silence that follows, his eyes set on your face as if he was waiting for something that does not come. Is he expecting a more in-depth response or something? Yet, before you can decide on what to do, he finally wills himself to say what he has been thinking ever since you entered the room “So... are you feeling better?”  

The question catches you off guard at first, the conversation taking a more serious turn than you had expected —or wanted. Should you say you are great, just to shut down the topic entirely? The room is filling up with people by the second and it is not like you are about to open your heart to a total stranger. Or are you supposed to give the same response Nick had made you repeat over and over again in front of the journalists? ‘I’m perfectly fine now, it was pure exhaustion’. 

“I’m-” you start saying, mind not really having decided on what lie to tell, when someone pats your head. 

You rise your head to look behind you, both to see who it is and to get away from their touch —what is with this people taking such liberties?—, the man by your side doing the same. Standing tall behind your row of chairs is none other than the man you have spent day and nights thinking about: Daniel. 

“Ready for the two hours briefing?” he sighs with a raised eyebrow, his hand traveling down to your shoulder when you turn your body around to talk to him. This is the first time you have seen the man out of that bright orange jumpsuit, now sporting a shirt of the same color instead, logos drawn all over it. He is still wearing that matching cap though. 

“So dramatic...” the man seated by your side snickers, the previous chat seemingly forgotten “We should do a twenty-four-hour briefing just for you” 

“Mate,” Daniel says with a half-smile, pointing at you with a tilt of his head “she wasn’t here last year” 

That must mean something you do not understand because it is all the man in red needs to groan out loud, his face falling in defeat at the prospect of having to sit through such a long meeting. On the other hand, you can only sit there with your eyebrows furrowed, Nick had assured you would be out of here in no time. And of course you were not here last year, or ever, you have not- but your inner monologue gets suddenly interrupted by the one phrase you have been telling yourself all day: none of this is real, you’re dreaming. 

“What? No, she was driving here last year” another voice joins the conversation, his statement sharp and direct. You lean your body forward to see who it is, he has taken a seat on the other side of the man in red and his body is blocking the stranger’s face, eyes widening when you recognize him. Charles. 

“It was still Mazepin in France, he almost crashed into Kimi remember?” Daniel corrects him with a side grin “She started after the break in... was it Silverstone?” 

Daniel looks at you for confirmation on this one, the other two men also lowering their gaze to yours, waiting. You are so overwhelmed though, it feels so strange, the fact that they are talking so categorically about things that have not ever happened. What is Mazepin? Kimi? And Silverstone? What break? The pressure of the situation getting to you in the worst possible moment. 

So you end up doing what you do best, nod along to whatever the other person says even though you do not understand anything. That is what you have done to the engineers, to the media, to Nick and now to these three men before the start of a briefing that you won’t understand a word of either.  

Afterall, none of this matter, this is only a dream, right? 

Next Chapter

___

Author's note: Thanks a lot for all the hearts, comments and everything! I'm so happy you're liking the fic

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin

[shadowreader23]

Time Travel Barnes? (Part 4)

It was the familiar voice that caught him at first, and then the familiar face. He was looking over at a man coming his way, two soldiers that he used to know. He knew him Dum-Dum, from the 107th and then he became a Howling Commandos alongside him and Steve. Seeing that actually shocked him, his entire body froze as they got closer and closer, his breathing caught and he stood straight. He made sure that his face stayed the same, the angry expression. And that seemed to catch his attention, making him almost wary. He seemed laid back, but he was on guard.

“Get back in line, sir. I’d rather not tell you again,” Dugan twitched his gun subtly, as if gesturing that he’d use force if necessary, but he just eyed him, carefully keeping his gaze firmly focused on him. He looked up to his mask a few times, occasionally questioning it.

“Can I check on the old man first?” he asked calmly, gesturing over his shoulder at the scared senior who was frantically glancing between them and looking away to somewhere on his left. James realized after taking a quick glance, that there was an old woman and a younger one with a child there, frantically staring back at the man. It must’ve been his family, the ones he was trying to get to when the jackass soldier saw him move.

“Yeah, make it fast,” the big, red-headed soldier casually waved him off, raising a brow after probably noting down his accent. James didn’t bother hiding that he was American. And that was probably a bad move, because they may ask him questions, they as in any soldier than happened to catch him talking bilingually.

Either way, he swiftly turned and stepped towards the old man, eyeing him carefully.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he? ” he also didn’t bother with cooing the man. He was sure that most of the men here fought in a war, served and lied down their lives, and he knew that being coddled wouldn’t be something they wanted, so his tone was somewhat flat and blunt. And the smile and little laugh he received confirmed what he’d thought.

“I’m fine, boy. I’m fine, thank you, ” he said with a deep, rough and gassy voice. He patted his arm and shoulder a few times, as if to show that he was okay and took a glance to the side, at his family. James did too, eyeing them before turning back to the old man. He seemed calmer, breathing having slowed from its pant. He must’ve been scared from watching what had unfolded in front of him. The soldier that James put on the ground. He must’ve thought that he’d get into trouble for saving him.

He patted the old mans’ shoulder before turning back around, glancing towards Dugan and eyeing him and the other soldier edgily. Luckily, his past self was nowhere in sight, so maybe he was checking around the corner with a few other soldiers. He wasn’t sure on how he’d react to seeing himself and he didn’t particularly want to find out.

“You’re American,” Dugan inevitably pointed out, just a simple statement that James inwardly cursed at. He wanted to avoid all this together, but if he remembered correctly, the man would keep talking until he had an answer for something. If James stayed quiet, there’d be a question after a question, after a question.

“I am,” he replied flatly, staying perfectly still in place with the two soldiers watching him. The one he floored was now standing further back, behind the, soon to be, Howling Commando.

“Where from?” another question came.

“New York,” he didn’t want to give away exactly where. They’d more than likely drag the James from this time into the conversation. There’d be more questions and paragraph upon paragraph of stories of the man or he’d appear at their request and that’d be a bad move. And he could say he was from anywhere else in New York. If his mask came off, there’d be more problems. Though saying that he was originally from Brooklyn, but moved at a very young age, it’d give him a chance to pass himself off as a relative or something if he was caught out.

… None of this sounded sensible or logical at this point, but what did? He was seventy years into the past with a younger version of himself running around. He was currently standing in front of two men he knew and was wearing old clothes that covered an immensely high-tech arm. What made sense anymore…

“Where in New York? The accents familiar,” accent? He’d admit that his Brooklyn twang surfaced every now and again, but it wasn’t that strong to recognize it or even hear it. And if it was, then his idea on saying that he’d moved at a young age was screwed.

“Originally, Brooklyn,” he added and inwardly winced at the realization-widening of their eyes, as if they just registered the place he said. He didn’t like seeing the flash of fondness over the name. They clearly knew something from the one word.

“Our Sergeant’s from Brooklyn,” the red-headed man smiled widely, dropping his firm hold on his weapon and letting it hang there, an arm resting over the top. His guard was lowered too, not seeming so dangerous anymore. He had a carefree smile as the guy he floored lowered his own weapon a few inches, apparently picking up that there wasn’t any danger or threat, even if James dropped the guy on his ass. They were calm, as well as James. He was gradually finding it easier to handle this situation now that he didn’t have guns aimed at him. “Heard of Bucky? James Buchanan Barnes maybe?”

… If he only knew...

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” he eased out the lie, his posture beginning to relax as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned slightly onto one leg. It was glad that the conversation and atmosphere seemed to ease up, because the crowd around them seemed to calm as well. There was more chattering and whispers and less crying and whimpering. The almost comfortable chat between James, the man that saved the town, and these soldiers was calming everyone in the vicinity. A domino effect.

“Huh, well you should meet him. He’s always talkin’ about Brooklyn, maybe meeting another guy from home would bring a smile to his sorry sack ofa face,” he was going to ignore that comment. If he remembered correctly, he got homesick if he was gone for too long. Leaving his family, Steve, the women and friends. He’d easily miss home, but keep it to himself so he would piss anyone off.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, instantly regretting it. He’d basically just agreed to maybe meeting his past self… “But I can’t remember a lot. I left Brooklyn when I was young,” he added, trying to seem put off about it, to maybe get them to reconsider. This obviously didn’t happen.

“S’aright, he’ll tell you what you’ve missed,” his smile just grew and he took long strides towards him, his hand reaching out and slamming down on his shoulder-blade, thankfully it was the right side, though not so thankful from how hard the contact was. He actually felt the faint hot sting on the skin under the shirt. His heart began to hammer in his chest when he was steered away from the crowds and towards more soldiers gathering at the entrance to the town. There were tents being set up, far apart with military vans parking up, scattered around the grass and nearby trees. They were going to camp out for the day, maybe two depending on if they were called out to another town. “So, what’s your name?” this was a question he was asking himself. He’d gone through names the day before, but he wasn’t too sure on which he should pick. There were so many he could choose from. He’d even thought of picking a name close to James, just in case he was found out. And then, as he’d said before, he’d be able to pass himself off as a brother or something. So Jamie was the closest name he’d thought of. And so...

“Jamie,” he muttered more than said, his voice quiet as they headed between a few soldiers just inside the town. For the most part, they were ignored, but there were eyes on him, watching him and questioning him, and the mask. It seemed to attract attention, but he was sure that taking the mask off would attract even more unwanted eyes. A few just said ‘hey’ to Dugan, completely bypassing him.

“You got a nickname, Jay?” the voiced boomed right into his ear as they squeezed passed a few more soldiers crowding around two tents. They were stepping around the field just inside of the town, passing by another barn, a more used and rotting one than the one he’d used to stash the bodies behind.

“I guess I do now,” he wasn’t going to say anything about the ones he currently had, or used to have. He didn’t like Winter, courtesy of Brock Rumlow. He was definitely keeping Bucky to himself. Terminator and Robocop would pass their heads, being references to future movies, according to Hawkeye. He really didn’t get them either. Barton kept calling him the two names on the way to the German airport. Even Ant-man joined him, though a lot more wary and hesitant than the archer.

He really couldn’t think of any other… So, Jay it was, he assumed.

----------

It was like he was staring into a mirror, a younger mirror. James wasn’t that much older, maybe five years at least, if he considered every time he was dragged out of Cryo and the months he’d spent hiding after DC. But ‘ Bucky ’ definitely looked far younger with short hair and those baggy, mud-green trousers and long-sleeved, green shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to about mid-forearm. He did look really young. Now James looked older. So… either he could risk pulling off the older twin, which there was a less chance that they’d believe him, or he could pull off the ‘older brother by a couple of years’ thing. Because James was actually older at this point, and he had thicker stubble than this James, and it was apparently proven that stubble makes you look older. Or that was what he remembered from watching TV adverts.

It’d also make an easier story to say that he grew up in an orphanage. It’d give the impression that Bucky’s parents gave him away and that was why he knew nothing of an older brother, and make it seem like it was vice versa. The only problem would be that their parents were still alive, and Bucky could easily return home and asked them. Though… he didn’t remember returning to his house or his parents between now and when he fell from the train. So maybe this would be the easiest story he could roll with in this situation.

He just needed to act oddly with Bucky, glance at him a few too many times and eventually remove his mask. But he needed the right timing for that. It was all he could really do at this point. He couldn’t leave now, not with Dugan on his shoulder and soldiers surrounding them.

And honestly, he was sure he’d do more than his fair share of staring. So acting this out wouldn’t be too hard. It was just the question of the James of the past believing him. And he recalled being a stubborn basterd back then.

“Serge, got a present for you,” Dugan beamed as they got closer to his… uh… as they got closer to Bucky . The man looked up from where he was sitting on the bumper of one of the trucks, messing with his gun. There was an instant crooked smirk curling his lips and he moved to stand, glancing over him instantly with curious eyes. And much like most of the other soldiers, he paused on his mask, eyeing it for a few seconds before laughing a little.

“A guy wearing a mask?” his voice was almost exactly like his own, minus the roughness from years of lack of speaking and minus the flatness and general exhaustion.

“Not just any guy wearing a mask. A guy wearing a mask who’s from Brooklyn,” as soon as Dugan said it, Bucky’s face snapped to him. He could barely catch the emotions rolling over him because of how many there were. Happiness, relief, warmth, hope, delight. There were a few more, but they seemed to pass by frequently.

“You are? Seriously?” James really couldn’t get over how happy he seemed from just hearing this. Was he always this cheerful?

“Yeah,” his lips twitched under his mask. His past self was talking directly to him, and he was lot more nervous than he thought he’d be. On the inside anyway. On the outside, he was calm, composed, all trained to not match his actual feelings if his inner feelings were compromised. “I… moved away when I was younger. Started travelling around,” It wasn’t technically a lie. He didn’t ‘move’ as such, he was taken. But he did travel, for his missions. He went everywhere, from Europe, to Norway, to Africa, to London, to-... He was pretty sure he’d been almost everywhere.

“So, I take it, you don’t know that there’s a shit-ton of new deli’s and bars everywhere?” Bucky got closer, a fond smile on his face as he stepped up to him. He still glanced at the mask, but said nothing, his attention on the shared Brooklyn experience instead of the odd fashion sense.

“Is Brooklyn just a Deli and bar city now?” he raised a brow with his sarcasm, hearing the other man bark out a laugh. He understood the joke just fine and he was glad that he took his dry-humour in. Truthfully, James couldn’t remember the last time he actually cracked a joke, dry ones included.

“I’d be surprised if my house is still there when I get back,” his humour was just as dry and flat as his own. So, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought to get closer to his past self.

[super-luna-fic]

Camp Justice - Chapter 2: The First Day Part 1

On the Batplane...

The trip to the camp began early in the morning. As Bruce said, their senses were blocked by J'onn aka Martian Manhunter. However, blocking Cal's was a bit more difficult than blocking Dick's. Somehow she was able to fight off the effects and just about everything he did wasn't working. At some point, Bruce was tempted to physically knock her out himself but knew the repercussions he would face later were not worth it. Martian Manhunter was eventually successful and they were able to continue on their journey. They were able to get there at a reasonable time in peace with the occasional complaint from the two. But it wasn't anything Bruce wasn't used to.

When the Batplane landed, their senses slowly came back to them. They were then led off the plane by J'onn and the first thing that hit them was the smell of fresh. Not that sewer smell that is common in Gotham. The next thing to hit them was the view and it made them speechless. There were so many beautiful trees and flowers that they as though they were in a fairytale. Between school and patrol, they never have enough time to travel so all they saw were skyscrapers and dirty streets. This was a nice change.

"Dude this view is so beautiful, mom totally needs to see this" Cal said as she took her phone out.

Snatch

"Hey! What the-"

"What part of top secret location did you not understand? Besides I told you you're not allowed to have any electronic device. How did you even get this back?"

"… willpower?" She answered sheepishly.

He glared at her but then focused his attention on Dick.

"And you?"

"Me!? Why would I do that? I'm the golden child, remember!"

"… hand them over."

"But I- I- fine," he said as he took his cellphone out of his pocket and placed them in Bruce's outstretched hand.

"And the ones in your shoes."

Dick looked at him in shock, "How did you know?"

"I trained you, didn't I."

"Tortured is more like it" Cal grumbled under her breath.

After Dick handed him the last of his technological devices they headed toward the entrance of the building labeled 'Check-in'.

"Wow, you guys really went out for this theme, whose idea was this anyway?"

"It was my idea, during the renovations of course," a voice said behind them. They turned around to see the source of it and saw a familiar green-themed superhero standing with his hands on his hips.

"Uncle Ollie!" Cal exclaimed as she ran to give him a hug.

'Uncle Ollie' J'onn mouthed to Bruce. He chose to ignore him and stare at the scene in front of him.

"How's my favorite niece and nephew?" he said as he ruffled Dick's hair.

"You do realize we're not actually related," Dick said as he swatted at Ollie hand.

"Well kid if you knew just how much I know and how long I've been involved in your family you just might rethink that statement"

"You tell'em, Uncle"

Dick abruptly walked up to her face, "Shut up!"

"Make me shorty"

"Shorty?? You're only a quarter of an inch taller!"

"Still counts," she replied smugly.

"You-" Dick made a move to pounce but was held back by the scruff of his uniform by Ollie.

"There will be none of that just yet, you guys need to get settled in while tall, dark, and gloomy, and I start getting ready for first-day introductions."

"Batman is going to be participating?!" Dick asked.

"Yep, and not only that. He's also going to be a counselor for one of the boy's cabins and overseeing all your camp activities!" he replied gleefully.

Cal and Dick stared at Bruce bewildered by what Ollie just said. The Batman is going to be a camp counselor. They stared at him to confirm what they just heard but all he did was look ahead, avoiding all eye contact. Now, the average person wouldn't think much of it however they knew he was slowly starting to get ticked off. They decided not to push his buttons… for now.

"So! When do we get to go to our cabins?" Cal asked.

"Right now actually, Martian Manhunter is going to be taking both of you to your cabins. Then after you get dressed, you'll be making your way to the mess hall."

"The mess hall? This place has an actual mess hall? Wow, you guys went all out."

Ollie snapped his head to look at Dick as if he just threatened to blow up the camp. If he had gone any faster he surely would have broke his neck.

"I went all out, they had nothing to do with making this feel like an authentic summer camp. I mean yea they helped with putting things together but they just wanted to make it look like a regular smegular facility. I wanted you guys to get the summer camp experience that my fellow colleagues did n-"

"Okay uncle we get it"

Ollie looked at her a bit out of breath from his rant and noticed the perplexed looks he was getting from everyone including Bruce.

He quickly put himself together before clearing his throat, "Very well then, Martian Manhunter if you wouldn't mind taking them now while we prep".

"Of course"

Batman and Green Arrow made their way back inside while Martian Manhunter started to guide them down a pebbled path.

The walk to the cabins was quiet and short. Martian Manhunter wasn't much of a talker when it came to them and there wasn't much to see besides the trees that acted as a division for the boy's and girl's cabins. Dick was dropped off first to his (which Wally was conveniently staying in) and Cal last.

"And this is where you will be staying. Your clothes will be on your bunk and you should hurry. We'll be starting in 10."

"Sure thing, I'll try my very best sir." She said as she saluted him.

Instead of entertaining her foolishness he simply walked away. She giggled and made her way through the wooden door. The cabin surprisingly did not have anyone in there but it was obvious that at least three other girls had laid claim to certain bunks. She chose the last top bunk and placed her bag on it. There she found a short sleeved black t-shirt with the words 'Camp Justice' written in blue with the year 1950 and two sets of three letters under it.

"Sweet," Cal said as she replaced her uniform top with the camp t-shirt. After rolling up the sleeves, she started to take her dark brown curls out of the ponytail she had it in when she heard footsteps approaching.

'Ooo I get to finally meet one of my roommates, I wonder who it could ever be…' she thought as the door finally opened and their foot stepped through the threshold.

With a smile she greeted her roommate.

"Hello there my name is- What are you doing here?!?!?"

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the DC characters or universes. The only characters and universes I own are the ones I create.

DO NOT REPOST

For those who don't know, yes Ollie is Green Arrow.

A/N: Chapter 2 is finally here! We're now discovering that Cal seems to have an enemy of some sort, I wonder who it could ever be >:). I hope you guys enjoy and I'll try to post the other part by either the end of this week or the beginning of the week after :)

Also, there's an Invader Zim reference in here (I'll dm the name of Cal's "enemy" to the first one who tells me what it is. Good luck!)

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 11, MAG 11 Dreamer

If someone came to my place of work proclaiming they had a prophetic dream about my death I would simply believe them. RIP to Gertrude but I'm just built different ig.

MAG 11 analysis, spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of "Antonio Blake" regarding his dreams of Gertrude Robinson, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute (Head Archivist is another odd and foreshadowing usage of proper nouns in the transcript). Statement given March 14th, 2015.

Statement Notes: Oliver I love you but I also hate you so so much.

It's so strange relistening to this statement. On my first listen, I was very sympathetic to "Antonio." He was this innocent man who suddenly developed psychic abilities that tormented him. Even in 121 when he describes what he did on the voyage to Point Nemo, he seems to be driven by fear and desperation. But knowing what happens after Point Nemo and who he becomes in the Eyepocalypse, I wonder how much influence the power of the End had on him. As Jon develops his abilities, he becomes less confident in "normal" social situations, but more confident and stronger in dangerous horror-based scenarios. This seems true with Blake/Banks as well. He's very nervous as his abilities are developing when he tries to talk to Gertrude or Jennifer from Grifter's Bone. As he becomes more attuned with his abilities and gives in to his desires, he becomes more powerful, shown when he is strong and devoid of emotion enough to kill the actual Dr. Pritchard. He becomes strongest when he "gives in" to the End, being most clear and charming as he gives his statement in 121 and the Coroner's Report in 168. Just being able to track this change so clearly from this first statement to the last speaks not only to Jonny Sims skills for character development, but also the power of the Entities to draw out the worst in a person.

Blake describes his dream world as an "overexposed" or "washed out" photograph. The fading imagery was very profound and strong to me. Death is a fear, a horror represented by the black tendrils, but also a simple force of nature, slowly sucking life and color from all things. Unstoppable.

I don't know why I'm harping on this, but I can't understand why Blake's dreams always begin at the top of Canary Wharf. Does that come up again in the show? Is it personally significant to Blake?

Character Notes: I already got into Blake, so my other main character concern for this episode is Gertrude.

Did she ever see this statement?

Did she simply miss it? Was she busy and didn't get a chance to look at it before it was too late? Did she read it and attempt to prepare? She was smart. She knew which statements were real and which weren't. She would have understood what Blake was capable of. Did she attempt to prepare and defend herself but just couldn't manage it? Did Elias hide it from her? Did she read it and just accept the inevitable?

But of course, I have to bring up the Graham mention. I always thought the Graham/Oliver ship was just a fun fan thing, but I didn't realize Oliver had broken up with a Graham in cannon. Moreover, I didn't realize that it was confirmed to be Graham Folger until reading about the Season 5 Q&A when working on this post.

This raises an interesting point about original Graham. Blake describes having a mental breakdown due to his job, and Amy Patel describes her office job degrading her mental health as well. Is there something about Graham that attracts people losing their minds in an office? While it could be something spooky, I do understand why people stuck in mind-numbing careers would be drawn to someone with the time and resources to explore what he actually wants to do with his life, rather than what he has to do.

Entity Alignment: This is very clearly an End episode. I very much believe that, while he may not be the most powerful or dangerous avatar in the series, Oliver Banks was one of the most deeply connected to his entity. His psyche, his spirit, and his physical body were all so entrenched in death. It's interesting that there is no "inciting incident" that causes Graham to become an avatar of the End, as usually there is one event that acts as the root of an avatar's development. You could possibly argue it was his mental health breakdown, but that seems unrelated to death or anything associated with the End.

[jjenjoyer]

roslyn - jj maybank

warnings : mentions of abuse, injuries, angst to fluff, heavy themes, sad jj (a crime punishable by death)

summary : jj shows up to your window in the dead of night, desperately in need of patching up-- and a hug would be nice too.

playlist:

last words of a shooting star - mitski

i bet on losing dogs - mitski

roslyn - bon iver

[lower case intended ; third person pov ; 1.3k words]

gentle tapping from outside your window pulled you from your sleep, (if you could even call it that, insomnia has been kicking your ass lately) startling you, the idea of it being an intruder flashing through your mind before you remembered that your best friend since kindergarten and crush since 5th grade, jj maybank, had done this a couple weeks prior, although the reason for it wasn't as pleasant and romantic as one would expect.

suspecting a repeat of that incident, you stood and jerked your curtain open, the moonlight highlighting the unmistakable silhouette of jj crouched at your window. you hastily opened the window, catching the boy as he practically fell into your room.

the faint illumination your fairy lights provided gifted you the ability to see the palette of texture and colour on his face, highlighted by the dried tear stains streaking his cheeks.

your heart sunk, the only word you could utter was his name, the heartbreak evident in your voice. you knew all too well the struggles jj went through at home, the boy was forced to watch his dad fall apart after his mother died in an accident when he was in primary school, eventually losing all conscience and beginning to take his anger out on the being who resembled her down to the dimple (a rare yet heavenly sight). he, of all people, was the last person to deserve it. nobody deserves to feel threatened in their own home, but especially not the brightest, kindest, most caring boy you know.

you thanked whatever gods were out there that you decided to start working out a couple years ago, as it came in handy in the process of practically carrying jj to your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as you shoved your ikea shark into his lap, letting the barely-present boy know that you were going to get the first aid kit you kept in case of this exact scenario repeating. he looked worse this time though, and you hoped the kit would be enough, knowing his hatred for hospitals.

returning a couple minutes later with the first aid kit, along with all the spare bandages of various shapes and sizes you found in the drawers, a pair of ice packs and a water bowl, your eyes locked on jj, sitting in the middle of your twin sized bed wrapped around the large shark plushie, cradling his right wrist (with oddly devoid of blood knuckles) with a pained expression and dull eyes that lit up slightly at the sight of you, to which you smiled softly, taking a spot in front of him after flicking on the bedside light for a better view.

your breathed hitched at the gut-wrenching sight, yet you kept your composure. you had to be strong for him.

he watched silently as you dipped a small cloth into the slightly soapy water bowl, wiping the blood from his eyebrow, nose, cheekbone and lip, disinfecting it and blowing on the area to ease the sting, a trick you had learnt from your mom, later proceeding to stick cute blue band-aids with stars on them over his nose and cheekbone wounds, those being the biggest.

he finally cracked a smile upon seeing you pull the band-aids out.

"i didn't think you would actually buy those."

"don't be silly. you said you hated the plain ones, so deal with it, my north star."

the statement was true though, jj pouted relentlessly when you stuck a plain band-aid on him last time, and he would always be the brightest star in your night sky, leading you home wherever you might be. all factual.

you then gave him the ice pack with the instructions of placing it over the bruises, and the fact that he took the ice pack in his left hand confirmed your suspicion.

"can you move it in a circle?"

jj tried rotating his wrist, which moved at 10 fps, but hey at least it moved. he then moved it up and down, wincing slightly at the action.

"i think its just sprained." you stated, hearing a sigh of relief escaping the blond boy's lips.

after wrapping his wrist with the ace bandage and sticking a ruler inside it as a makeshift splint, you instructed him to take his shirt off, to which he saluted you with a "yes ma'am.", and proceeded to struggle, possibly a trap, since he whistled suggestively when you helped pull it over his head. ok, you walked right into that one, but it was good to see his humour come back.

the sight was bittersweet, the soft light hitting his incredibly toned torso like an artist's brand new wooden palette tainted by an assortment of purple, yellow, green and maroon shades of oil paint, as no matter how much he scrubs at it with turpentine, the essence has already sunk in for eternity-- even once the colour is gone, the oil residue will remain, buried deep.

you couldn't do much for his torso but ice it with the second ice pack, rubbing his back as he cringed at the contact.

once satisfied, you rummaged your closet for those black adidas men's shorts you bought against your mom's wishes and handed them over to jj, since there was no way you were gonna let him sleep in those dirty cargo shorts, and you turned with your face against the closet door as he changed, the sounds of struggle nearly prompting you to help him, but you assumed he wanted privacy. its not like you haven't seen him in his underwear, john b's pantsing prank was diabolically brutal-- speaking of which, why didn't he go to john b for help?

you were ripped from your thoughts by jj's voice stating that he finished.

you pulled him up to the pillows, where you laid beside him after turning off the bedside lamp, the fairy light's soft glow creating an ambiance in which you couldn't help but pull him into you, hugging the boy tightly as he trembled in your arms, subtle shivers which morphed into full-out richter scale level 9 shaking as he sobbed into your shirt, to which his hands clutched on for dear life. you rubbed his back comfortingly while whispering assurances into his hair, interrupted only by the odd kiss for what seemed to be an eternity, and eventually the sobs turned into sniffles as he pulled himself up to your level, storm-laden blue eyes piercing yours, the turbulent ocean trapped behind them seeping into your body, flooding it with pure intensity.

"do you want to talk about what happened?"

"not really..."

a silence washed over the two of you, before jj broke it hesitantly.

"you.. do know that i love you, right?-"

"yeah, j. of course, i love you too."

"-...not in that way."

your eyes went wide as you came to the conclusion that your entire "unrequited love" soap opera was a concept made up by none other than yours truly. however, you knew better.

"tell me that again in the morning, when you're thinking clearly."

jj sighed, having no will to fight, and nodded, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"i will. thank you, for everything. goodnight my darling."

"goodnight j."

the following morning, you had woken up earlier than jj and decided to make him his favourite chocolate chip pancakes, knowing he needed that right now. as you were pouring the last spoonful of batter onto the pan, you felt a large pair of arms snake around your waist, along with a head finding its spot in the dip of your shoulder, blond hair peeking in through your peripheral vision.

"i meant it."

"perfect timing, ninja. so did i."

he spun you around, tilting your chin up with his good hand, pausing for a moment to see if you wanted it, before you both brought your lips together, a kiss long overdue.

"ok now gimme them pancakes, i came here like a floating cartoon character at the smell."

[theaistired]

Tag Game - Friday Kiss Share

Thank you for the tag @the-golden-comet!

I actually have something to share today! Shocking, I know.

Since I wrote this snippet while recovering from sickness and stressed out of my mind, I honestly don't really know if I managed to put anything coherent down. But I had the idea for this scene and wanted write a first draft of it before it got lost in the void that is my head.

I hope you like the little family bonding with a little kiss to the top of the head.

Galidean Book 1 - The Secret Kepper, Chapter 29: Sacred Bonds

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. Thyra was standing in front of him.

"Did you need something?" he asked, looking them over, searching for any sign of unusual discomfort. Their condition seemed to have slightly improved again, but Rune could tell that Thyra was still fatigued and in pain.

Wordlessly, Thyra extended their arms. For a moment, Rune thought they were asking for a hug, something they hadn't done in years. As faded as the memory of that last time was, Rune could recall that Thyra had held their arms different back then. He blinked and continued to stare. Their arms were extended, the palms pointing down, the sleeves of their tunic resting behind their wrists on their arms.

Rune blinked. Once. Twice.

"Did you grow?" he asked, rushing out of his seat and grabbing Thyra's arms.

"Yes," they replied, shaking their wrists to emphasise were the sleeves were now ending. Rune stepped back and looked his sister over, their clothing did seem shorter but it had been so long since Thyra had last grown he couldn't believe it. Maybe their clothing had just shrunk.

He pulled Thyra close, a loose embrace but it was enough to confirm Thyra's statement. They stood taller in his arms now, not by much, but still noticeable.

"What's this?" Lowell's voice sounded from the doorway, "A sibling hug without me? I'm hurt." He laughed.

Rune let go off Thyra, excitedly waving their older brother over. "Thyra has grown."

Lowell looked at the two of them, slight confusion present on his face. "…Yes? Hadn't you noticed? They are much nicer now."

"Much is not the word I would use," Thyra pointed out as Rune rolled his eyes and snapped - not unkindly - at his brother: "Their body, you goat ass."

Lowell stared blankly at them for a moment.

"Boots off, icicle," he told Thyra before he went to retrieve his spear. Thyra rolled their eyes but complied, also taking off their socks and stockings before Lowell could tell them to. Hurriedly, Rune grabbed one of the silver tablets nearby as Lowell came back, carefully placing the bottom of the spear on the ground and making sure it stood perfectly upright. With shaking hands, Rune placed the tablet on Thyra's head, allowing him and his brother to precisely compare Thyra's new hight based on the engravings of Lowell's spear.

"By the spirits, you're right!" exclaimed Lowell as he looked at where the tablet on Thyra's head connected to his spear, a few inches above where the engravings stopped. "I'll start right away," Lowell said, his smile bright as he took out his carving knife and etched a mark at Thyra's new height. Rune and Lowell released Thyra from their tablet hat and Lowell sat down, true to his word already starting his new engravings on the spear.

"This must be why I was feeling unwell since arriving in Ilai," Thyra said quietly, as they put their boots back on, "It must have been growing pains."

Rune only hummed in reply before embracing Thyra again in a tight hug. They allowed it to happen even if they only gave a slight pat on his arms in response. Rune kissed his sister on the crown of their head, right next to that one unruly hair strand that never could be tamed by braid nor comb.

As the sound of Lowell's handiwork filled the room, Rune couldn't help but notice how Thyra didn't share their brothers' excitement.

It didn't surprise him but it saddend Rune nonetheless. He appreciated that Thyra told the two of them but he wished they could see the good in this development like Rune and Lowell could.

Thyra had given up on a chance of healing a long time ago. Sometimes, Rune wondered if they had ever hoped for it at all, ever even believed in the possibility. Thyra had made peace with their rapidly approaching death something that Rune, Lowell and their father never had. Every day Rune woke up hoping that something would change. The Álbmots asked the spirits for guidance, some prayed even though the spirits weren't some divinity or god. Rune knew that and he never asked or prayed, there was no point to it, his logical mind told him. But if it could provide even the slightest chance of helping Thyra, he'd asked and he'd pray. Every dawn he asked for guidance in his studies, every dusk he prayed for a blessing.

He tried to accept Thyra's resignation, he knew that in the end it wasn't his decision to make. Thyra's decision was the one to count, the final one.

But Thyra was his little sister.

It always came back to this. The faintest wind, the softest drizzle, this fleeting life he held so close to his heart.

Tagging (no pressure): @colombette, @xenascribbles, @satohqbanana, @dearunreliablenarrator, @wyked-ao3, @frostedlemonwriter, @stephtuckerauthor and anyone else who'd like to join

[killed-by-choice]

LaKisha Wilson, 22 (USA 2014)

(Note: some sources use the capitalization LaKisha and some don’t. I used both in this profile of her case.)

Lakisha Wilson was the loving mother of 2-year-old Antonio. She was pregnant with her second baby in 2014 and ended up scheduled for an abortion at an Ohio abortion facility called Preterm.

She was told that she was 19 weeks pregnant, but it was later discovered that she was actually closer to 23 weeks. Either the abortion facility had been incompetent enough to misjudge the baby’s age by so much or Lakisha had been lied to. 19 weeks would put her just before the state’s legal limit for abortion in 2014, meaning that it would benefit Preterm to convince Lakisha that her baby was younger. It wouldn’t be the first time an abortion facility lied to a client to coerce them into an abortion. Lakisha wasn’t a criminal and there’s no evidence that she have agreed to an abortion if she knew her baby was past the legal limit.

Lakisha lost blood and went into shock. Records show that she was not breathing for 28 minutes.

By the time someone finally called 911, they arrived to another problem. All the operating rooms were on the third floor of the building and the elevator was broken. When paramedics finally managed to get the malfunctioning elevator to work enough to transport Lakisha, they found that the abortion facility was even less equipped for emergencies than they thought.

The only oxygen mask that Preterm had was a pediatric size (which raises some disturbing questions about how young their clients are). The little mask wasn’t giving LaKisha enough oxygen.

Unlike all of the staff at Preterm, paramedics were equipped, trained and capable of resuscitating LaKisha. She desperately needed to be intubated, but the already malfunctioning elevator was so small that they couldn’t lay LaKisha flat (which is critical for intubation). LaKisha was rushed to the hospital and put on life support.

At some point in the past LaKisha had signed a form stating that she wanted to be an organ donor, but even this selfless act would be used to thwart her chance of justice. An organ procurement company obtained the documentation needed to harvest her organs before the autopsy, despite the objections of LaKisha’s family (who were afraid that the loss of major organs would impair a forensic investigation).

Despite the loss of multiple organs before the autopsy was even started, it confirmed that LaKisha died from abortion. She bled internally and suffered from brain damage due to cardiopulmonary arrest.

And what about Lisa Perriera, the abortionist who mutilated, neglected and killed LaKisha? She was given an award by the Physicians for Reproductive Choice at a posh ceremonial New York City dinner in 2015 for enduring “adversity” during the investigation of LaKisha Wilson’s completely preventable death. She transferred to an abortion facility in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania – a place that never heard of LaKisha Wilson – where she continued to abort babies and place women’s lives at risk, all while publicly advertising abortion as a “safe” procedure.

Instead of being held accountable for killing LaKisha Wilson, Perriera was basically promoted. The Preterm facility also remained open and later killed Tia Archeiva Parks.

(Medical Examiner’s statement)

(911 call)

[jq37]

Please let us know if you solve this mystery!

OK! It’s the end of the year so let me compile everything I was able to come up with (with the help of everyone I dragged into this–you know who you are and thank you and I’m sorry). 

To anyone who’s just seeing this and doesn’t have context, in November, right before the movie Wish came out, I made a longish post questioning who Allison Moore was (which, incidentally, is the first post that comes up when you Google “Allison Moore Disney”).

The reason I was curious about who this random writer is is because she’s credited as one of the co-writers of Wish, Disney’s 100th Anniversary Feature Film BUT she has no obvious experience writing for animation, children, or fantasy when everyone else on the main team has credits on stuff like Frozen and Encanto. I thought it was bizarre that there would be someone so green on a project so big so I went digging. 

Here’s what I learned:

(1) Moore wasn’t originally announced as being attached to the project. Chris Buck, Jennifer Lee, and Fawn Veersunthorn were all mentioned when the project was officially announced in Sept 2022 (for example). Moore was not. And you’d think they’d mention the *co-writer*, right? You don’t start to see her name until a year later in Sept 2023 when the trailer dropped (for example). So it seems like she was brought onto the project later. Of course, this could just be a normal quirk of the industry or something I’m misinterpreting, but I think it’s worth mentioning. 

(2) Moore seems to have a lot more credits in stage writing than she does in screenwriting. I wasn’t able to 100% confirm it until recently (I’ll get to that in a second) but she’s written a bunch of plays and it seems like this is where she has most of her bona fides. 

“Allison is the recipient of two Jerome Fellowships, two McKnight Advancement Grants and the Bush Artist Fellowship.”

That sounds fancy. But it still doesn’t say “Top Choice for Disney Anniversary Movie” to me. That’s not a statement on writing quality. I haven’t read/seen any of her plays. It’s about the subject matter. Look at some of these synopses:

None of that really screams Disney. Which isn’t to say people can’t have range. George Miller wrote all the Mad Maxes but also Babe and both Happy Feet. But if I was hiring someone for a really big project, I wouldn’t want that project to be their first attempt at expanding into that genre. 

(3) This isn’t actually inherently important but she was on an episode of Nailed it. That’s where this picture comes from:

She won the first round and the game ended in a three way tie for the first time in the show’s history. 

The only reason this is noteworthy in the larger scale of things is that, until very recently, this was one of only two places online you could see Allison Moore talking. The other is this very short interview on the red carpet during the premiere. 

There’s nothing in that interview that explains anything. It’s mainly her talking about how it was fun working on the movie and how good the movie is. 

Honestly, good for her for not being Extremely Online, but it really felt like I could get a bit of a handle on everyone else who’d worked on this project in a high profile way but not her. Which is part of why I started down this rabbit hole to begin with. There was nothing to show where she might have had a connection or an interest or anything that would connect the dots. 

For reference, Fawn (who was one of the Directors and story writers) has the kind of resume that I was expecting Moore to have when I initially Googled her:

Smaller jobs on other kids/animated movies (Hop, The Lorax, Despicable Me 2), some storyboard or art work on other Disney stuff (Frozen, Moana, Zootopia, Ralph), and then a big break (Raya and Wish). Based on my understanding of the industry (and I know a fair bit because it’s one I’m interested in professionally) that’s a very typical track to get to the writing side of animation.  

A couple of people speculated that Moore got onto the project in a mentorship capacity. Now, I’m a Black woman who writes fiction professionally when I’m not on this hellsite (affectionate) with the rest of y’all. That means I have firsthand experience with what mentorship looks like in writing–both official Diversity and Inclusion type mentorship and more organic “Let me take you under my wing” type mentorship. I have *never* seen anyone get a job this high profile at the jump just due to mentorship alone. Going from zero to Disney’s 100th anniversary is kinda insane. This wasn’t some B project or something. It was a Big Deal Project. And this is Disney so they could have hired basically anyone they wanted. So you have to assume this was an active decision someone made and not just a thing that happened for lack of options. But in all my searching, Moore wasn’t mentioned except to just say she wrote the screenplay with Jennifer Lee. It was just the baking show and the Youtube clip.

Until today.

(4) I’m going to preface this by saying this doesn’t actually answer the question in a big AHA! way, but it is the only interview I’ve seen about Wish from Moore besides the red carpet clip.

On December 15th, Moore gave this interview with the San Antonio Current.

I stumbled across it while searching for a different piece of information and eagerly clicked to see what she had to say after three weeks of silence after the movie dropped on November 22.

Here are some highlights:

-In high school she was a theater kid and thought she wanted to pursue acting.��

-I college she did playwriting and eventually she got her MFA from Iowa (which has a weirdly great MFA program btw, and also, this interview is how I confirmed she was the playwright Allison).

-When she started on the theater track at her college, she told them she was a playwright so she could study that too even though she’d never written a play before. So it sounds like Wish isn’t the first time she’s just jumped into a new thing without experience. You have to respect the hustle.

But this is the most important line in the interview because it’s like, an answer and a non-answer all in one. She’s asked, “How did you go from writing plays to writing for TV and film?”

And her answer is, “I had a whole career writing for theater, and then when my son was born, I realized I needed to make more money, so I started pitching for TV. I worked in television for about a decade. In the midst of working in TV, I continued playwriting. That's how I got on the radar at Disney.”

Which kind of sidesteps the most intriguing part of the question? Like, first of all, it’s not 100% clear if she means her playwriting or her TV writing caught Disney’s attention. I’m guessing playwriting, but I could be wrong. Secondly, who is “Disney” in this situation? A Disney recruiter? A Disney director? Did Jennifer Lee see a production of Slasher: A Horrifying comedy while passing through Texas and think, “Her. I want her to be my co-writer on this children’s film.” And what did she do to impress them so much that they right away put her on the the *Anniversary Project*? Like, I know I keep harping on this but I can’t stress enough how big of a deal this is. It’s hard enough to write for just your average sitcom or little movie. To just jump on something this big is baffling. I obviously don’t expect Disney to be justifying their every hiring decision publicly but, usually, when someone is doing something like this, it’s very obvious why they were chosen and, even with this sliver of explanation, it’s still frustratingly opaque. And with the strange post hoc timing of the interview (seriously, doesn’t promotion usually happen PRE movie release?) It almost reads like an interview that exists because someone realized the lack of any online presence was weird. 

(5) When she was a kid, Allison Moore had a crush on Fox Robin Hood. That’s not at all important to the mystery, that’s just information she volunteered during the interview and that I’m now sharing with you. So when you search her name now, the top results are me wondering who she is, her IMDB, and her talking about how she liked Fox Robin Hood's little hat. Which isn't a LOT of information, but it’s more than we had before and that’s something.  

[fakecrfan]

TMAGP 30 Thoughts - Overall

This episode was pretty good-- but it was also just "pretty good" to me, which in itself is disappointing. I attribute this to the pacing.

Every single individual element of the episode is entertaining. The fed up custodian, his statement, Alice freaking out, the bored cabby, Gwen's triumph and smugness, Celia's betrayal--all of it was excellent individually. But the way it came together left me feeling a bit miffed.

Again, this is because the pacing sucked.

Instead of the frenetic, climatic pace of the season finales in TMA, this one was very slow and had a lot of unnecessary elements. For example, Alice arguing with the cabby was fun, but a mistake. It slowed the whole pace down, and added no information that we didn't already have. We already knew that she was chasing after them, did we really need to see every individual step of her journey along the way? Did we need to hear her questioning the cab guy?

It would have been much more effective for her to have the phonecall with Colin where she decides to go after Sam instead, and then to cut to her finding the custodian melted into the concrete. Seriously, are we supposed to be frightened at any point during this horror show, or aren't we? Cut to the scary bits already!

This underlines a greater tendency to waste Alice's screen time on stuff that is repetitive and unnecessary.

Another problem was--for once!--the GWEN bits! I did love to see her triumph and to see her utterly cold and smug reaction to it. But the stuff with her absolutely slowed the whole episode down. Especially since we cut from Colin's almost certain doom and Alice unknowingly making a Sophie choice between him and Sam--to Gwen.... getting what she wants, and laughing about it.

And then we cut from Alice finding a guy melted into the concrete--to Gwen having a conversation that doesn't give us any new information and only reinforces what we already learned from her convo with Lena.

All of these choices underline a more fundamental problem I have had with the way TMAGP has set itself up. Every time something exciting happens, it undercuts the building tension with 1) something boring 2) something slightly funny but unnecessary or 3) something that we already heard before. Usually Alice's plotlines have gotten the short end of the stick from this writing method, but in this one Gwen's plotline was actually the drag. We DO need to see the culmination of Gwen's season plotline, but it was in entirely the wrong place.

Here is I would have done it: Have Gwen's moment first. We don't need both Trevor and Lena to confirm that she both got the power she wanted and now is mega fucked, either. We only need one scene for this. One. Stop. Repeating. Information.

Then we can cut between Alice and Sam + Celia for the rest of the episode. Cut down the unnecessary transitional scenes. The cabby conversation was funny, but cut it. This is a finale. It's not time to add a bunch of cute banter if it doesn't naturally fit in to the action.

This episode was good, but it did not need to be 40 minutes and was not served by being 40 minutes. The TMA season finales were much more exciting with much less material because they knew to only give you the most important and most adrenaline pumping moments. That serves horror much better.

....but since this is how the entire series has been thus far, I don't have high hopes that this is going to change. I'll resign myself to what the show actually is. It's not bad, like I said. And I like enough individual elements to keep listening.

This also might sound overly critical, but this isn't because I dislike the series. It's more that I like the series, but not as much as I could have, and I am making note of why so that I can use it to improve my own writing in the future. Maybe if you're reading this, you really liked the slower pacing that is padded with tangential incidents! If so, feel free to share your own breakdown.

[deathscastleofficielle]

Breaking down my designs for the Main Bros

Hey, happy anniversary! Seven years ago today I published the very first chapter of Death's Castle! (and then a few years later I went back and rewrote it to better match my current skill level but LETS NOT WORRY ABOUT THAT-)

So in celebration of seven years, how about I actually talk about the design processes for the Bros and what's going on with their looks.

Quick note, since I already discussed many of the Bros' body types, I won't be rehashing that. We'll mainly be focusing on face, hair, and clothes. I will also be bringing up some of the old fandom artists that inspired me, but I once again ask that you please do not bother them as they have long moved on from this fandom (this does not apply to Jack or Zoe, they are my friends, go give them some love).

Also, spoilers for the fic below.

Stephano the Statue (+Janus)

Stephano is a statue, an artistic representation of idealized beauty, and thus is meant to be very handsome but in a way that makes him stick out from the rest of the castle. In a place where most everyone is pale and starving, Stephano's chiseled and healthy features can make him look uncanny. A quite literal case of "don't trust a pretty face."

One of his most notable features is his eyes, and specifically how little detail they actually have. In White Lily, Mayo notes that Stephano's eyes lack "deeper color" but have a metallic shine to them. In other words, his eyes appear flatter compared to others. Again, this is supposed to make him look more statue-like. I also tend to give him a more defined nose than others in my art, owing to his Arab heritage.

His long hair, often kept in a low ponytail, is borrowed from many pre-existing depictions of the character. I think we all just like the Finn the Human-type trope of a character who mostly keeps their hair covered but then it's revealed their hair is actually super long. And while most fan depictions made Stephano clean-shaven, in one of the videos he actually confirms that he has a beard, so I gave him a bit of a goatee.

As mentioned before, Stephano's outfit design was actually stolen and edited from the artist blackbeltkitten009 for their now discontinued comic The Stephano Chronicles. When I began Death's Castle, my goal was to create updated designs for the Bros, to provide a visual of the timeskip between the videos (where I tend to use design elements that were generally popular in the fandom at the time) and the fanfiction. However, Stephano is a bit difficult to make an updated design for because of all the Bros he has the most humanoid appearance in the videos, given that he's a statuette and actually has clothes. (An admittedly ironic statement, given that in Death's Castle proper his gold skin makes him unable to pass as fully human)

There were a couple elements that drew me to blackbeltkitten009's design in particular; for starters the design had a lot of drama to it without being over the top. There was one thing in particular that made me decide to use it though, and that was the ruby brooch.

In Death's Castle, Stephano shares his body with an entity he has named Janus, an element taken from the Disponentia custom story playthrough. When Janus is in control, Stephano's eyes glow red followed by everything gold on his body becoming pitch black. The ruby brooch acts as a bridge between these two forms. On Stephano, the red is a pop of color against his otherwise monochromatic design, with the color scheme adding a regal heroism to him, much like how Stephano would like to see himself. On Janus however, the red ties into his eyes and adds to the sinister appearance.

Is that a bit cheesy? Yes, but I was a teenager when I started this, give me a break.

Also as a sidenote, Janus' color scheme came from a misunderstanding. You see my first encounter with him was of someone's description of him. I didn't know which video "Evil Stephano" originated in, and for awhile I even believed he was something the fandom made up. Like Red Chair! But I must have misread "glowing eyes" as specifically glowing red eyes. However, when actually watching Disponentia it turns out his eyes are actually glowing white and his color is maybe a dark bronze. I like where the chips landed but if I began Death's Castle today, I probably would have made him closer to his appearance in the videos. But this would definitely call for a different Stephano design.

Piggeh the Pig

Piggeh's characterization was inspired by the scene and emo trends of the early 2010s. Not only the fun stuff which makes up his outward personality, but also some of the harsher realities that were going on in those subcultures.

One of the first decisions I made was to change his shirt color from pink to something else. For awhile it was going to be white since that was the only color I can think of that didn't clash with his color scheme, but didn't like it since I felt it would be too washed out on his pale skin. I ended up instead settling on a bright red (starting to notice a pattern?). This felt like a natural escalation of Piggeh's previous pink attire, as both are considered romantic/sexual colors. In fact Piggeh's color scheme is meant to evoke the typical garish valentine's day. The particular shade of red's gaudiness also says a lot about Piggeh; he doesn't put a lot of care into his appearance. On the other hand though, the red picks up on all of the eternally bloodied scars on Piggeh's body. Piggeh and blood are very well acquainted, and the tattered red shirt is a constant reminder of that fact.

The brown fishnet vest was another early design decision. Fishnets are often seen as provocative and are associated with adult entertainment, thus him having a vest made of the material is an easy shorthand for his sexual behavior without exposing too much skin. In fact early on the vest was hot pink, but I think someone pointed out how hard it was to see against the red so I changed it to dark brown.

The bandages on his arms are picked up from several pre-existing depictions of Piggeh such as StephanoTheStatue's and Mister-Chair's, but in Death's Castle they serve a plot purpose; hiding his self harm scars. Finally, the look is completed with brown jeans and a pair of work boots, calling back to his farm origins.

While most people tend to give Piggeh unnaturally colored eyes, most popular being pink to match his hair, I decided to give my depiction of Piggeh brown eyes like most real pigs tend to have. He also has snake-like pupils, owing to his famous line from the videos; "You thought I was a pig? Nah, I'm a snake!" One eye has a long scar over it in a somewhat diamond shape, but tends to curve in a way that can almost make it resemble a snake. His other eye, often kept hidden by his hair, is surrounded by a larger scar and blackened by hyphema, otherwise known as an 8 Ball Fracture. This was inspired by the character of 2D from the band Gorillaz.

His pink hair was originally shorter if just a bit messy, owing to the fact that I used to only be able to draw about two hairstyles for men. However when Jack ( @thesucessorofficalnot ) drew him, he gave Piggeh a longer and uneven cut more reminiscent of scene queen hairstyles, so I started using it myself.

Finally, one thing I want to mention is that Piggeh was designed to be very feminine looking, to the point he could easily pass as a woman. This started as sort of a joke because whenever I would show people in real life fan art of Piggeh they would consistently mistake him for a woman, likely due to his pink color scheme, so I just adopted it as a feature for him. His adoptive mother Bunny was even designed to look masculine as a compliment to his feminine design. This ended up being somewhat downplayed in the fic itself, as generally speaking the Bros aren't too concerned with how outwardly masculine or feminine someone is.

Oh and fun fact. Lately when I've drawn Piggeh or Fleur, I've drawn them with the same eye shape.

Mr. Green Chair

Appearance wise Mr. Chair doesn't veer too far off from the typical depictions. Short brown hair, light-skinned, wearing glasses and a green beret. He is often depicted as having either brown or green eyes, and I chose green to compliment his siblings' color themed naming, hence his first name being "Green" in the fanfic. One important factor regarding his appearance is that while most versions of Mr. Chair are presumably white, mine is biracial, and specifically Japanese. This is mainly to reference his appearances in the playthrough of Ao Oni, a game made and set in Japan.

Mr. Chair is similarly hard to redesign like Stephano, but for different reasons. Mr. Chair's design is pretty set in stone in the fandom, usually depicted in a green sweater vest or cardigan and a simple dress shirt. In general his look is very preppy, very academia. So how do I update that for a years later look?

Well admittedly I had already drawn up some designs based on basically a male version of Elizabeth's outfit from Bioshock Infinite. And we'll swing back around to Elizabeth later, but for now I basically had this lying around and slapped it on Mr. Chair. I simply changed the colors so that the blazer was his signature deep green, and the lining on his dress shirt was a reddish purple. There was originally no pattern on the shirt, but the amazing ZoeDraws did some awesome artwork of the Bros and on Mr. Chair they included a light grey vine/floral pattern so I have also adopted that in at least some of my art.

While on the surface the outfit is typical for a bookworm character, the rather bold combination of green and magenta is surprisingly flamboyant. My friend even comared him to a toxic frog. I think this acts as a bit of subtle foreshadowing to the more unsettling parts of Mr. Chair's character, such as his past drug use. It also shows a bit of his creativity, as presumably Mr. Chair made or altered these clothes himself, given his sewing skills.

And while not fully intentional, the outfit parallels Red Chair, who similarly wears a red and black blazer patterned like Pewdie's modern branding and a red hat. Perhaps Mr. Chair can't help but want to emulate his older brother?

Jennifer the Rock

Jennifer's look was solidified very early on due to the popular traits she was given in fan art. Long black hair, pale skin, gray eyes. The most important element of her design is that she is plus sized due to Pewdie constantly insulting the character for being fat. An unfortunate artifact of the time's humor that is explored more thoroughly and compassionately in Death's Castle proper.

While actually letting her be fat sounds like a no-brainer nowadays, this was not the case in the fandom back then. Most people tended to make Jennifer skinny, some even giving her an eating disorder of some sort to justify it. And the few who did make Jenny fat were tending to continue the joke from the videos. Now I don't say this to act all superior, frankly speaking Pewds put us in an awkward position, and I'm sure for a lot of the artists they didn't want to offend anyone or maybe it even hit too close to home for some.

However, it was important to me to actually give Jennifer the body type she was assigned to, and to not only show the struggles fat women are faced with, but that fat can be beautiful. Especially without being sexualized. (see my pride headcanons for more on that) It also provided a bit of a contrast to how we see fat today vs how fat was seen in the past.

Jennifer originally kept her hair down as seen in some of the past segments of Death's Castle, but by the present day her hair is worn in a ponytail. This was actually an element inspired by a doodle Punkichi did, depicting their Jennifer in an alternate hairstyle. I liked it, so I adopted it for mine. Her hair also covers one of her eyes to show her shyer and insecure personality. Finally, I used a popular accessory often given not to human Jennifer but to the rock version of Jennifer in non-gijinka fanart. A bow. Which also inspired me to make her an archer because I thought it was funny for her to have two different kinds of bows.

In an attempt to get back her memories through an orb shard, Jennifer falls into a trance and ends up severing her pinky finger. What may initially seem like a random injury actually holds a lot of meaning when Jennifer's past as Genevieve is taken into account. For starters, as a lady of high society, Genevieve had to have proper etiquette, and we all know the rule of sticking your pinky finger out when drinking tea. Cutting it off shows that Jennifer is no longer that proper girl. On a dourer note, the pinky finger is also associated with the pinky swear or pinky promise. Losing that finger in this sense symbolizes promises that were never fulfilled.

Each of the Bros had a signature color of sorts. Pewdie was blue, Stephano was gold/yellow, Piggeh was pink, and Mr. Chair was green. Jennifer on the other hand didn't really have a solid agreed upon color in the fandom that wasn't just gray. So it only made sense to make Jennifer's purple. This was for a few reasons. It was an appropriately feminine color to put on the one girl in the group without infringing on Piggeh and even Marzia's pink, it paired nicely with all the grays in her color scheme, it worked as an opposite against Stephano's yellow, and finally; purple was a color often associated with wealth and power.

Jennifer is a bit of an interesting case outfit wise since she initially starts with a different outfit, but quickly changes into a new one in the seventh chapter. This was mainly because I struggled with her costume design the most out of any of the Bros. I initially wanted to play with the idea of moss growing on a rock and paired this with a look meant to focus on her archery skill, but this design was rather ugly and uninspired- not to mention it used far too much green for a character who was supposed to be associated with purple, so it was retconned to instead be a simple gray tank top and black leggings.

I actually eventually took inspiration from Jack's version of Jenny. I designed a letterman jacket style gray hoodie with white sleeves that had purple morning glories and mint green vines embroidered on them. This was paired with a dusty purple t-shirt that had the brofist symbol on it and a pinkish purple pleated skirt that matched her signature hair bow. She kept the black leggings and gray boots from her previous design. This design ended up suiting Jenny more and setting the tone for her style, as it better fit her fangirl characterization from the original videos.

Interestingly, in both her concept design and her current one, Jennifer is the only one who actually wears her flower motif on her person. Perhaps in a way it shows that she's the most self-actualized of her group? Alternatively, it furthers her resemblance to Fleur, and shows how Stephano can't help but see the lady with the flowers in those around him.

Also I apologize to everyone I've ever confused by describing the mauve color of Jennifer's ribbon and skirt as VIOLET. I had a crayon that was apparently horribly mislabeled, so I associated a pinkish-purple color with the word violet.

Mayo the Small Table

Mayo is one of the most important characters in Death's Castle. His sudden reappearance after what the Bros were led to believe was a childhood death is what kicks the plot into action, and throughout the story acts as the deuteragonist since the story is just as much about him and how he grows up as much as it is about Stephano. During the videos he was only nine years old, which presented an interesting challenge for his Death's Castle design. While everyone else started as adults and were only getting a little older in comparison, Mayo went from a child to a young teenager.

Mayo's childhood design is rather typical for the fandom. Short blonde hair, gold or brown eyes, a light colored t-shirt, brown overalls and a matching cap. A cute if potentially rowdy kid. His teenage design shifts drastically, presenting a more mature- but still youthful- version of the character.

This is where we swing back to Elizabeth, as the Bioshock character influenced a lot of Mayo's characterization. Specifically, the motif of a bird caged for the mysterious use of those who trapped it. As such, I pretty much took elements of her first outfit and slapped them onto Mayo. The collared shirt, necktie, even his birdcage brooch is lifted from one of two pins Elizabeth wears on her choker. His color scheme is made up of white, soft browns, and pastel yellow, evoking innocence and light. You look at this version of Mayo and want to protect him.

However, that protection can be stifling to someone trying to grow, so Mayo undergoes a dramatic change later on. After his clothes get ruined by blood, he swaps out most of his outfit for a simpler get up of a white dress shirt and black slacks, and this is accompanied by a rather dramatic new piece. The coat that once belonged to Alexander himself.

This is where we finally acknowledge the recurring use of red. Each of the main Bros uses some shade of red in their designs. Sometimes this is more straightforward such as Stephano and Piggeh, other times it's more subtle such as Mr. Chair's magenta or Jennifer's accents of pink. This was for one big reason, PewDiePie himself. In his early days, Pewds was associated with the color blue. He even adopted a light blue color for his brofist icon. However, things have changed since then. Nowadays he uses red. This common color scheme also shows that the Bros are a more unified team than they once were.

But then there's Mayo, who initially looks quite out of place, and he is. They are essentially an outsider by now, unfamiliar with the greater workings of the Bro Army and having to catch up on the five years they were missing in action. The Bros' protectiveness over him also others him, puts him on a pedestal, and this even leads to Stephano and Mr. Chair electing to kick him out of the castle, thinking it would be best for him to grow up among humans. As such, when he returns in Alexander's coat, in the red shade the group has adopted, he is sending a clear message. He won't be pushed aside anymore. The red and gold color scheme also draws comparisons to Stephano in particular. Once again, the story is just as much about him as it is our favorite statue.

The red also ties into his flower motif, and the reveal that his "flower chapters" work differently than his adult companions. Since he is still so young, for all intents and purposes his backstory is still ongoing. He initially starts with a white lily, symbolizing innocence and death. This is a melancholic flower, reflecting the sad situation of a child having been robbed of his freedom by enemies and family alike. His motif then changes to a scarlet lily, represent passion and lofty aspirations. This is a Mayo who has been pushed to the edge and now refuses to be a passive player in his own life.

His hair has grown out from his childhood and is now kept in a short ponytail. This was an idea I lifted from AskMayo's version of the character, as it added more variety to the cast. This person was also where I got the idea of Mayo using daggers to fight. (Quick note, ages were not universally agreed on in the fandom. This person's Mayo is older and was often sexualized by the artist.)

Now, there is one more thing I want to bring up about Mayo's design that no one actually knew until now; Both of his costume designs are based off circus attire. His first outfit, along with being stolen from Bioshock, is meant to resemble an acrobat's costume, complimenting his flexibility and fighting style. He loses that in his second outfit, but it has a subtler connation. With the long red coat, Mayo looks like the stock ringleader.

Conclusions

While making this post, I talked with Jack and he pointed out something I hadn't really put into words until now. My approach to designing the characters was very theatrical. Since I went for more human designs overall, I had to rely on costuming and styling to get my points across. And honestly, given that I've been in theater my whole life, and it's shaped the way I tell stories, I find that very fitting.

I could go on about why I designed characters in certain ways. There are so many characters, and I put a lot of work into each of them. However, quite frankly I just don't have the time so I'll just leave it at this;

There was a time when I wasn't sure I would ever write this story, and it's crazy to realize that I've been doing it for seven years now. Some years were more plentiful than others, I mean we definitely had a slow start, but I can't believe how far I've gotten. We're nearing what I would consider the end of the first season, the characters have evolved so much and there's so much more waiting around the corner.

To everyone who has supported me, whether you've been here since the beginning or found me along the way, thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know if I'd even be here without you guys.

Anyway I need to go rest my fingers because I talk way too much.

[stupendousfoxthing]

https://www.tumblr.com/stupendousfoxthing/755575577793232896/im-going-to-ask-you-this-question-because-you

Oh thanks for answering my ask. Didn’t think you would lol.

I just have a few things to say about your response. Please bear in mind that i am not in anyway trying to change your mind on what you believe in, i just want to point out some inconsistencies i noticed with someone who is open minded. I apologize for the incoming essay.

Oh my bad i didn’t mean to say they were never seen together but instead rarely. You may have not participated in pushing that narrative but isn’t that what majority of tkkrs believed? I say so because that was the narrative that was rampant in the famdom and among shipping spaces a few years ago and that narrative only started disappearing when we saw taekook hang out alot in chapter two. All the members lived together right up to 2019 (i think) so ofcourse they all would have hung out together when they lived together wouldn’t they? I am however specifically talking about the time when they all moved out from the dorm and didn’t live together anymore. I see you say that in chapter two taekook prioritized each other but then why didn’t they prioritize each other too in chapter one? You believe that they prioritize each other by hanging out, making time to see each other before, during and after trips and staying connected even when they can’t be together but is this an argument you would make for Taekook in chapter one? Taekook who didn’t prioritize seeing each other on breaks? Taekook who didnt prioritize going to celebrate with each other on birthdays? The fact that you think they prioritize each other now by trying to see eo before, during and after trips means that even though you don’t place expectations on them, to a certain extent you think that certain things are important to them right? So why weren’t these things that you think were important to them in chapter two not important to them after they all moved out of the dorm? I understand that people grow and things change but i think it taekook as a couple is supposed to make sense, it shouldn’t only make sense in chapter two while it barely made sense in chap 1 don’t you think?

You say taekook spent most of the time together in chap one but what do you have to back up this statement with when even their own words negate this? As far as i can remember, the only time they were actually confirmed to be seen out together was in 2018 in Namsan and everything else is either made up or there is no proof for it (we know that shippers lie all the time) I think that most of the time, you believe that they spent much time together not because of the things they actually say or do but because of the things you project unto them. Now you are confidently saying that taekook prioritize each other by making sure they see each other before, during and after trips. What is all this based on? Based on the fact that you think Jk went straight to Tae after his trip from Qatar even though you don’t have enough context or even know why they were there in the first place? You simply concluded that they were there to spend time together because i think if you thought there was a different reason they were there, you wouldn’t say the same thing. Or is it because Jk asked if members wanted to come over a day before he travelled to record seven and Tae happened to be one of the members who came over? If they prioritized each other like that why did Jk have to ask before Tae came over? Or is it how Tkkrs believe that it was Jk giggling on one of Tae’s Lives after getting back from a trip even though Tae literally addressed the person as “hyung” or it is tkkrs believing that Jk was snoring in Tae’s bed at 3am without thinking to themselves why Tae would do something as stupid as going Live at 3am with a man in his bed? Do people think he is that desperate to make a boyfriend reveal? These are a bunch of moments that you have taken, put together and decided that this is what it means even though some of these are speculations and some have little to no context. So isn’t this you projecting?

I agree that a queer couple in a homophobic country would want to hide their relationship to protect themselves but you don’t get to decide how they do it by claiming that they don’t say certain things because they are hiding. You said you don’t place expectations on taekook so if you really don’t then i don’t think anyone should pick and choose what and how they think they would hide their relationship because different people approach relationships in different ways. Why do you get to decide that Jk saying he didn’t see taehyung all through a 6 week long break was him hiding his relationship? The fact that we expect that they would doesn’t necessarily mean they will or that they are hiding it in the way we say they are especially when that only happens when they say things we don’t want to hear.

I am not setting up a lose-lose scenario. I am simply trying to show how tkkrs and shippers in general, narratives are never coherent and change depending on the occurrence. You may not share in these narratives but alot of tkkrs do and this is how alot of tkkrs 'survived' the period they considered a taekook drought.

There is so many examples of tkkrs believing in information that just isn’t true or just not treating suspicions as suspicions. A very good example is this whole plushie debate. You have decided that the plushie is 100% linked to tae and it could be but the truth is that it also might not be linked to him at all. This is a very real possibility but tkkrs already talk about it like it is a fact. I was looking through some of tae’s pics and i noticed another photo with different plushies which look like some that Hobi has in his studio but no one would make a big deal abt that because it’s not Jk. So what it is that makes tkkrs so sure that the plushie is even connected to tae at all? It’s ok to have your suspicions but you don’t know for a fact that they are connected, do you? I know that it is easy to come to these conclusions because you already see them as more than friends but then, that is your bias talking and you are not being objective because of your pre conceived notion of them I say pre conceived because i don’t think anyone has enough facts yet to confidently say if these boys are together like that or not so most of the opinions are based on stereotypes, biases and assumptions rather than facts or firsthand knowledge. I’m sure if you were to see Tae or Jk having similar stuff with other people or members, you would automatically treat it as a non event right? This is the same bias that occurs when you hear voices from their lives and immediately assume it is Jk or Tae or when they wear the same clothing and you immediately assume they are connected and then you use these in your arguments in support of taekook without caring much that they are speculations and not proven facts.

I see someone in your replies talking about a taekook Japan trip but there wasn’t a taekook japan trip (that we know of). I’m pretty sure they are talking about that time many pple believe Tae took Jk on the trip he won and because he posted that pic of Jk from the hotel balcony. Many tkkrs think that was a taekook trip but it was an OT7 trip for summer package. This and many more examples is how many tkkrs keep the faith in this ship. Never really anything factual but alot of speculations, projecting and lies.

You are like the "'I like pancakes." 'Oh, so you hate waffles?'" meme personified. You have once again written me a bad faith essay full of things I never said while misinterpreting and misrepresenting the things I said directly to you. I see you're also one of those "I'm going to save you from shipping!" missionary types. Go knock on someone else's door before I hurt your feelings because I don't need saving and your condescending attitude may play with some Taekookers (the ones you keep demanding I answer for) but it won't play here where I run things.

Oh my bad i didn’t mean to say they were never seen together but instead rarely. So you said "they were never seen together" but meant "rarely seen together" and that's what I should have assumed you meant. Everyone read the rest of this ask where anon takes everything at black and white face value and insists everyone else should do the same after admitting they weren't clear about one of the main points of their previous ask.

You may have not participated in pushing that narrative but isn’t that what majority of tkkrs believed? 1. I still don't know why you want me to answer for what other people think, believe or say. 2. Let me remind you what you said in the first ask because it's a prime example of the issue in your thinking "Before chap 2 didn’t tkkrs constantly state that taekook’s relationship was real because they were never seen together outside of work because they had to protect themselves from the homophobic country?" I have literally never seen a Taekooker say "Taekook is real because they're never seen together outside of work." That was the belief you were asking me about. I have never seen anyone say that. That's not sound logic at all. If two people are never seen together and you want to ASSUME that means they are never together, that would be a very bad proof indeed for them being in a relationship. You twisted that terrible argument with the obvious reality that two people in a same-sex relationship would have to protect it from a homophobic country and industry. You do this throughout this entire essay you just sent me. You conflate complete bullshit with actual logical points in an attempt to dismiss them because _you_ don't agree with the conclusion someone got to when looking at the same information you did. But the fact you started with "they were never seen together" and had to backtrack immediately ON YOUR FIRST POINT tells me the conclusion you've come to is based as much on a twisted version of reality as you seem to think mine is (even though you keep coming at me with things I never said and insisting I answer for them)

I say so because that was the narrative that was rampant in the famdom and among shipping spaces a few years ago and that narrative only started disappearing when we saw taekook hang out alot in chapter two.

That bullshit argument you made wasn't rampant and therefore didn't disappear during chapter 2 and I just explained why.

All the members lived together right up to 2019 (i think) so ofcourse they all would have hung out together when they lived together wouldn’t they?

Yes, they probably hung out together since they lived and worked together for years.

I am however specifically talking about the time when they all moved out from the dorm and didn’t live together anymore. Oh okay 💃

I see you say that in chapter two taekook prioritized each other but then why didn’t they prioritize each other too in chapter one?

Do you know something I don't know? Everyone see how this anon says with their full chest that they believe Taekook ABSOLUTELY DID NOT EVER prioritize each other in chapter one? Everyone read the rest of this ask where they rip Taekookers constantly for making sweeping assumptions and generalizations just like that.

You believe that they prioritize each other by hanging out, making time to see each other before, during and after trips and staying connected even when they can’t be together but is this an argument you would make for Taekook in chapter one?

Uhm, I believe that because it was demonstrated again and again in front of my own two eyeballs. You want me to apply my arguments based on chapter 2 to chapter 1, a time period with completely different circumstances? Is this how it works for you? Is this why your thoughts are a mess like this? Here I am applying information in real time as I get it, but if things evolve over time NOTHING THAT HAPPENED BEFORE MAKES SENSE ANYMORE.

Taekook who didn’t prioritize seeing each other on breaks? Taekook who didnt prioritize going to celebrate with each other on birthdays? The fact that you think they prioritize each other now by trying to see eo before, during and after trips means that even though you don’t place expectations on them, to a certain extent you think that certain things are important to them right?

Once again, I am coming to a conclusion based on things that happened. You seem to base your thinking on things that didn't. You're back on the holidays and birthday things (something Jkkrs hyperfocus on hmmmmmmm), now I don't think you can account for what they've done for every birthday and holiday, but you are very much applying your own specific standards to them while I am not. And then you're trying to act like the opposite is happening here. That I'm projecting my priorities on them. It's wild. I think if two people are dating yeah seeing each other/making time for each other is probably something important, you are taking that basic idea and making it about SPECIFIC THINGS. You push the birthday/holiday thing again and again because YOU think those specific things should be prioritized by them. YOU think they do not prioritize the specific things you think they should and treat that as proof of something. I'm not doing that, you are! 😂

I understand that people grow and things change but i think it taekook as a couple is supposed to make sense, it shouldn’t only make sense in chapter two while it barely made sense in chap 1 don’t you think?

We've established that your brain works in a very special way, and I can see why you think they "barely made sense" in chapter one. I disagree. I actually have to step away to work right now, but maybe I'll have the energy to continue breaking this ask apart soonish. Let me make one final point in this reply to demonstrate why you're not going to win this fight you've brought to my Tumblr for some reason.

I see someone in your replies talking about a taekook Japan trip but there wasn’t a taekook japan trip (that we know of). I’m pretty sure they are talking about that time many pple believe Tae took Jk on the trip he won and because he posted that pic of Jk from the hotel balcony. Many tkkrs think that was a taekook trip but it was an OT7 trip for summer package. This and many more examples is how many tkkrs keep the faith in this ship. Never really anything factual but alot of speculations, projecting and lies.

These are some of the tweets I have made about that trip you thought you were going to school me about just now. It was Season's Greetings, not Summer Package by the way:

[eastwindmlk]

I would like to give you a waiver from the agency’s upfront payment.

The request is a prompt for Alice & Frank Longbottom:

“I want you in the most sinful ways possible.”

please and thank you

🕵️‍♀️

I will find out why your name is “east wind Mlk”

also, is it true youbtorment a sweet and innocent gryffindor about hotdogs?

🤨

Thank you, thank you!

I will leave you to your deductions why that is my name with the gracious hint that it has to do with another famous detective.

No tacos or Gryffindor were tormented in the making of this fic.

As always, my inbox is open. Go wild.

1.3k NSFW under the cut. Okay, there might be a little plot. Pls be forgiving, this is my first time writing Frank/Alice.

The soft swish of robes was the only indication that the two Aurors had even arrived on the scene. Their muffled footsteps easily missed while they stole their way through the alleged hide-out. Frank and Alice had been tracking an illegal portkey operation and all their leads had brought them here.

From the outside, it appeared to be a simple muggle antique shop. It smelled like one too. Mothballs and petricore filled their noses. The layer of dust is too thick for an actual operational store. That and thick wards they’d encountered were practically confirmation that they’d been right.

Frank pulled a face as he ran into a cobweb and shuddered at the unpleasant feeling, making Alice stifle a snicker. One that died in her throat when her ear perked up at a noise coming from the backroom.

Their eyes met as their hands tightened around their wands as they poised to stun. They closed the distance, flanking the door as they locked eyes once more. “After we’re done here, you and I are celebrating,” Frank whispered, an amused smile playing around his lips as Alice gave him an exasperated look jerking her head towards the door as if to tell him to focus. “Come on, you know you want to,” he teased in that same hushed tone.

Alice’s features softened for a moment and she flicked her eyes up, barely not rolling them at him. “Not the time, Frank,” she hissed at him, though he could see her cheek lift when her gaze returned to the door. “But yes, I want you.”

Both their breaths stilled while they listened to the shuffling. Both of them waited for something more before they would spring. When the footsteps disappeared down a flight of stairs they let out a sigh, relaxing a little. “Did you just say I want you?” Frank asked while they checked the door for potential traps and alarms.

“Yes,” Alice answered simply, her hand waving through the dispel runes with such skill that Frank could not help but stare. She never failed to amaze him. Alice also never failed to surprise him. “I want you in the most sinful ways possible.”

His jaw dropped and he wondered if he’d heard it correctly. Surely, she did not just say that during a mission of all time. “You can’t just say that,” he protested, scratching at his cheekbone with the tip of his wand. “And you shouldn’t be ignoring wand safety protocols, but here we are,” she quipped humorously and all Frank could do in response was chuckle.

It was then that they heard it, the voice of Edward Letuce, who had taunted them in his statements thinking he was too clever to be caught. Now they had him at the scene of the crime. The lightness of the moment before faded into the familiar rush that came with closing a case. With watching all the pieces fall into place and being right about the big picture.

The pair eyed each other, faces brimming with anticipation before bursting through the door, wands blazing. Before long, they’d had them all bound and wandless, ready for pick-up. Adrenaline still pumping through their veins. “How did you want me again?” Frank asked breathlessly as he leaned against the wall next to the door.

“Sinfully,” Alice chirped in response, casting the final piece of evidence into a containment spell before leaning back against a now-empty, desk. “Well, the most sinful ways possible if we are being precise.”

Frank hummed, trying to sound casual. “We are anything if not precise.” Casting a silencing charm on one of the gang members who was roundly cussing at them in Croatian. He did not need to know the language to ascertain the general idea of his loud tirade. “Yours or mine?”

“Yours. I want to have a bath after. That is if I can still walk after.” Now the other three were starting to grumble and curse. Normally, Alice would have silenced them but they made a point. This was not the most professional conversation they could have had.

A series of pops just outside the door that Frank was guarding told the pair that backup had arrived. Meaning they could transfer responsibility over to Jones and Wilkins. Leaving them a quick stop at the office before their night could really begin.

When it began it sounded like a crash of wood against brick, rattling keys and shuddering window panes. Alice’s back slammed against the door of Frank’s home mere moments after they apparated to his doorstep. His lips crashed into hers.

“You have no idea what you do to me when you talk like that,” Frank complained against her lips, the kiss desperate end forceful. He was taking her lips like it was his last supper. His tongue darted out to test the boundaries, flicking against the roof of her mouth when she granted him entry.

Clumsily the pair of them stumbled into the dark hallway, still locked together. Frank steered them towards the stairs, heading for his bedroom when Alice decided to have a different plan. Her body weight shifted against him and he stumbled into it.

“That’s far enough,” she breathed, her demanding hands undoing his robes and then his trousers. “I want you now,” she said more firmly when he tried to still her frantic tug at his belt. All he could do was lift his hips to slip them down to his ankles.

Still half-clothed and more than half hard he sprung free from his briefs and Frank groaned at the sweet relief. Followed by a soft moan as her tongue licked a teasing strip from base to tip, tongue circling the head. “You don’t have to.”

“Maybe I want to,” she answered before her lips stretched over him and all thoughts and reason left his mind. His hand found the short strands he could just about wind his fingers through, feeling the motion of her. Frank let his head fall backwards, resting on the stair above him while his thumb smoothed against the prickly little hairs along her ear.

He only lifts his head when her mouth disappears completely and is rewarded by the sight of her flushed cheeks and blown-out pupils, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to him. The sight is unbearably hot. “You’re gorgeous,” he said with a languid smile.

“And you are full of it,” Alice beams, some of the urgency gone while she rids herself of her robes, treating his eyes to a delectable view of her generous curves. A blush crept onto his cheeks when her eyes suddenly met his, slightly narrowed. “Are you getting undressed or what?”

He did not need to be told twice before the corner of her lip could tug up into that telltale smirk he had kicked off his trousers and made quick work of his socks. After all, there is nothing charming about a bloke otherwise nude bar from his mismatched socks.

Once undressed Alice turned to sit in his lap, her hand wrapped firmly around him while she lowered herself onto him with one hand holding onto the baluster for balance. The feeling of her warmth engulfing him is nearly too much.

Frank wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to him. His nose buried in her neck he thrusts up, enjoying the sound she made when their hips connected. The need to taste her skin was as overwhelming as the need for friction, to move. The moment she moans that desire becomes a near compulsive need to hear more.

Only satisfied when her back arched away from him, his teeth sunk into the soft skin of her shoulder, his tongue swept along the bruise to soothe it. “That’s it, darling,” he encouraged as he felt her clench around him. “Come for me,” he insisted, his fingers circling her clit while she squirmed in his grip.

When the tension mounted and she tightened around him he gripped her tighter, his hips rocking into hers to chase.

They were both left trembling, sweat pooled between them cooling while they rode out their climax together. Blissful, sore and ready for that bath.

[marimayscarlett]

Did I understand this correctly, you really collect all the interviews Richard has ever done? I mean props to you and it's cool that you put so much energy in it, but isn't that pretty... time-consuming and laborious, searching for everything? Do you do this for fun? Just asking out of curiosity, no judgment here ✌🏼

Hello 👋🏼

I see you found my post (which actually was just rambling again) from last week 😊 You're right, it can be time-consuming to collect all the interviews (I search for articles as well as video and audio interviews and boy, this man has a lot to say) but I do have several reasons why I do it. You asked, so I might as well explain it:

1. I think it's quite evident that I am rather enthusiastic about Richard, his music and him as a person. For over 8 years, to be exact. So learning about his views on things, his work process and everything in between brings me immense joy (since I love researching in general). And when I'm already listening to an interview or reading one, I might as well save it if I'd like to come back to it later.

Posting/reblogging superficial things about him (his looks etc) is fun and all, but at the end of the day, he as an individual being is so so interesting and listening to him talking etc. makes me the most happy regarding him.

2. I like collecting in general, especially books (mostly historical) and records, and it's kind of a "soothing" feeling for me to know exactly where I can find something when I'm looking for specific information.

3. When I get asks on here or writing posts with information about Richard, I'd like to support my statements and writings about him with sources, preferably from himself. I don't approve of spreading rumors, personal stuff Richard himself hasn't confirmed or half-truths where nobody knows where they came from in the first place.

I think this is a relic from my studies at university when I wrote a bunch of papers and essays. One thing my professors drilled into my head was the fact that no matter how good something is written, if the statements and information in it aren't backed up with sources, it's worth nothing and could also just have been made up.

So that's it. If you made it up to here and read all of my unnecessary long-winded answer, cute skort-Richard is sending you a thank you: