#I still need to read his lore later but he's been in my brain and rotating like he's in a microwave so blegh

[sleepless-prince]

AYO WICKED (MORE SPECIFICALLY FIYERO) ENJOYERS‼️

FANFIC ALERT

(Small preview at the bottom)

Since it really feels like it’s on its feet now and I think I’ll be able to start pushing it out publicly soon, I wanted to announce:

I have a wholesome Fiyero fanfiction I’ve been working on that started just due to the fact that Fiyero is accompanied by a Horse in the movie version. I immediately jumped as

1) A Horse

2) The bond and respect between my own horse and I

Currently it’s a boy and his Horse (more so, a Horse and his boy) on the trek to shiz.

There will be some bits of Fiyeraba later, probably some gelphiyero too, but it won’t be the main focus. I wanted this fic to focus on the friend/familial relationship the could exist between Fiyero and Feldspar.

However, I will note: I’m someone who grew up with Wizard of Oz and didn’t get into Wicked until I was older. With things the movie has done and mentions it’s made in comparison to the og stage production, I’ve been having the fun of making my own sort of amalgamated world of Wizard of Oz lore and Wicked lore and making them play nice together. Don’t worry though! It’s not unfamiliar as Wicked is still the focus and you wont be lost if you don’t know anything from the Wizard of Oz books. It doesn’t require that knowledge at all and only acts as some fun nods and namesakes if you do know.

NOW, I don’t really know yet how far I’m going with this fic and where it will end, so we’ll see. I do have two other fic ideas in my head though (if I ever do them) that would be connected to it. One a sort of.. prequel, and one a continuum.

(Like.. this fic is also just named “Honse” rn in my docs because I’ve yet to think of a title for it 💀)

Currently it’s at 2~3 chapters and I’ve head a couple friends reading it as it’s created for their reactions and feedback. So.. I honestly can’t wait to, hopefully soon, share it!

For now! Please enjoy the sort of.. introduction as a sample 🥺

——apologies if the format transferred weird——

"Shiz University.. sure, why not? The most acclaimed university in Oz. The "Shiznit." The top of the top that even Mr. Better Than Everyone Else Wogglebug praises. The perfect place to send a prince, but how long do you think it will take until I achieve their final disappointments?" The Winkie prince tossed a stray twig into the fire and sat back with a stretch.

"Well, personally, I think you could do great there, Fiyero." The Horse of a different color couldn't help but nicker as he laid down. "If you would just start reaching out to your teachers, or even me for that matter, instead of continuously pushing it off.. That never does you any good, you know. Besides, I've heard the professors at Shiz are quite good! A few of which I’ve heard are Animals!" Feldspar spoke proudly before grabbing an apple to snack on.

Of course Feldspar would be giving him a sort of.. pep-talk with Shiz only being another day away. No one knew him better than that Horse. He had a decent hoof in raising the prince afterall. It made Fiyero both very glad and somewhat afraid that his parents had agreed to the idea to let him travel with Feldspar. Although, there wasn't much convincing that needed to be had. They had immediately been on board with it from the second they heard it. He always enjoyed getting to travel with Feldspar anyway, getting moments to explore the roads less traveled (Oz knows Gillikin country had plenty of areas less traveled) and getting to camp out like this. These moments where there were no expectations and all the pressure would lift away from his body. Moments where his brain felt completely at ease. Not heavy or foggy, not scattered or numb, just.. clear.

"And, personally, I think you have too much faith in me," Fiyero didn't catch the smirk that casually slid onto his face. "However, I will admit that I am at least a little excited about the Animal professors. I always liked the Animal teachers better back at home anyway."

"Hmm," Feldspar shook his head before grabbing one of the apples to toss at the prince. Fiyero had to scramble a little, the heel of his boot kicking up dirt from the forest floor, but he managed to catch the apple before it flew over his head. Feldspar tried to hold it in first, but failed as quiet chuckles still escaped him. "You should believe in yourself a little more. And I don't mean when you're prancing around like a young pony."

"I do not prance around! I flaunt. Very strategically." He took a bite of the apple, turning his chin up in mock offense.

"Oh, I am very sorry, Your Highness. You flaunt around like a young pony." Feldspar's laughing was louder this time. "But I am serious, Fiyero. I want you to take care of yourself. Maybe find yourself some good beings to hang around with this time, hm? Some real friends?"

“I do take care of myself," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, "As for the other thing, I can at least promise you that I’ll try. Genuinely.” ‘Genuinely’ was the funny little keyword. He would genuinely try, he always did. Maybe it made it a little hard to make genuine connections when he kept his genuine self locked away, only for a select few to find out. However, it was always easier to get others to like you by locking that away. It made things less complicated and it never let anyone get too uncomfortably close either. Sure, he would watch and carefully decide who he might actually like, but the prior made it easier to drift around if he so needed.

“Well, a promise to try is the best I can ask for.” The horse settled, letting the prince finish his apple. Feldspar took the moment to sit in a comfortable silence, looking up to the sky. The stars shone brightly through the leaves and branches, making it look like a few were peeking out at them from behind the trees. It made him a little sad, bringing the thought to mind that these moments may start to become scarce. His young human, the one he swore to protect and look after, the one he had joined on many adventures, the one he witnessed almost every milestone of, Feldspar knew he’d soon be expected to fully step into princely duties. In a way, Shiz felt like the start of some sort of countdown and he knew Fiyero thought the same. He could tell from the way they had, admittedly, taken a longer route to Shiz.

“Do you want your blanket tonight?” The horse’s thoughts were interrupted by Fiyero who had stood back up to get to their supply. They hadn’t brought too much with them themselves, having sent a lot of their things to the school separately. This left their little mound of items being mostly made only of necessities for travel.

“Ah, no, no,” Feldspar looked over and his ears perked forward as he watched Fiyero rummage around their things.” I think I’ll be fine for tonight. Although, as always, I do appreciate you asking.”

“Of course, friend. You’re the one doing most of the work this journey. Checking in on you might be the absolute least I can do. Aaand, I couldn’t really tell if you were admiring the dark or just trying to predict tonight’s weather.” The prince replied with a slight chuckle as he grabbed his bed roll and blanket. Despite the various other… reputations that Fiyero had made for himself, Feldspar had always been glad to know the true Fiyero. Even if he knew that the prince had never truly allowed even him completely in. Despite the constant pressure and high expectations he grew up under, he was a good kid.

As the quiet settled again, leaving only the sound of the gentle breeze that weaved its way through the trees, Fiyero got comfortable for the night. Laying back on his mat, he let out a sigh through his nose. There was a chance that they would make it to Shiz tomorrow and he needed to start planning what he would do, what his entry would be, and how he’d come off. It was a top of the line university, but so were the schools he attended back in Winkie Country. However, with this being Gillikin Country, he no doubt would have the extra flair and draw of being a prince from another quadrant of Oz. Most people never got to do more than read about the other quadrants, so anything in regards to another quadrant tended to easily get people curious and excited.

“Goodness,” Feldspar spoke after his head lifted up into a yawn, bringing Fiyero’s attention back to the Horse. “That seems like the cue for me to start drifting. Rest easy, Your Highness.” With the campfire dimming, it was getting a little harder to see the Horse, his blue coat starting to meld with the dark of night, but Fiyero could still make out the movement of another big yawn from his friend. He couldn’t help but let a few gentle, warm laughs escape before rolling back over on his mat.

“Goodnight, you old Horse.”

[prince--esque]

Had to get this out of my system so I could focus on something other than this bastard (affectionate)

[wendichester]

Hiii I was wondering about a really intelligent reader, like they do regular research conferences, go to an Ivy League school, are getting their PhD etc. With Dean, Dean starts to feel insecure because he catches them and Sam having long talks about subjects he doesn’t get but reader comforts him, saying how much they love how strong and safe he is, he his the brawn to their brain, how he is smart but either way it doesn’t matter bc they love him even if he was a dumb as a bag of rocks. I NEEDDD them to coddle his head in their chest n rock him while they lay in bed and they reassure him he is smart and lovable!!

I LOVE MY SWEET BOY RAHHH‼️‼️

Than you preemptively🫶🏻

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ brawn & brain,

summary. you're book smart. dean's street smart. it's the perfect mix.

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 394

notes / warnings. we love us a smart reader ehe 🤭

The sound of laughter pulls Dean from sleep.

He blinks against the dim bunker lighting, rolling over to find your side of the bed empty. The clock reads 3:17 AM.

Padding barefoot down the hallway, he finds you and Sam hunched over the library table, surrounded by open books and half-empty coffee mugs. Sam's gesturing wildly about some obscure lore, and you're nodding along, eyes bright with that sharp focus Dean's come to adore—even if he only understands every third word.

"—so if we cross-reference the Enochian with the Sumerian tablets—"

"Right! Which means the ritual would've needed—"

Dean lingers in the doorway, something heavy settling in his chest.

You notice him first. "Dean?"

Sam turns, grinning. "Hey, man. We were just—"

"Yeah," Dean cuts in, voice rough with sleep. "Heard."

The way your smile falters tells him he's been too sharp.

Later, when Sam's gone to bed and you're curled under the covers together, Dean can't stop replaying it—the easy way you and Sam fit together intellectually, like puzzle pieces he can't force himself into.

You sense it. Of course you do.

Turning in his arms, you press a kiss to his jaw. "What's wrong?"

Dean shrugs. "Nothin'."

You give him the look—the one that cracks him open every time.

He sighs. "Just... you and Sammy. All that research crap. You get each other."

Your fingers still where they'd been tracing his collarbone. "Oh, Dean."

And then you're maneuvering him, gentle but firm, until his head rests against your chest. Your fingers card through his hair as you rock him slightly, like he's something precious.

"You listen to me," you murmur. "You're brilliant. You keep us alive out there—your instincts, your reflexes? That's a kind of smart no book can teach."

Dean huffs, but he doesn't pull away. "Yeah, well—"

"And even if you weren't," you continue, tipping his chin up to meet your gaze, "even if you were dumb as a box of hammers, I'd still love you. Because you're you."

Something tight in Dean's chest unravels.

"You mean that?" he whispers, uncharacteristically small.

You kiss his forehead. "With my whole damn PhD."

Dean's laugh is muffled against your skin as he pulls you closer. Maybe he'll never quote Latin or debate ancient texts. But here, in your arms? He feels seen.

And that's better than smart.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Your Vampire: Chapter Two

I Feel Pretty

(Max Phillips x f!reader)

Words: 1, 341

Summary: Max Phillips, your friend and boss, is surprised to find out you know he’s a vampire

Warnings: a whole lot of vampire lore in this chapter, no y/n, reader has nickname Garland, Max in a state of undress

Check out masterlist here

“How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

Sitting across from you on his luxurious couch while talking about being a vampire was not something Max was expecting today.

When he opened his luxury coffin from the floor in his basement, he was surprised to find you standing there. He was more surprised you didn’t run off screaming or fainting dead away. You stood there very calmly for one confronted with a vampire.

“So, I’m a vampire.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I-wait, you do?”

You shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard to work out.”

He made his way out of the coffin, “Brains and beauty; always knew there was a reason to love you. As my executive assistant.”

“Hey, everyone else is too dumb to notice.”

“Huh,” he closed the door in the floor. “You’re not scared I’ll kill you or something?”

You looked at him in his dark red silk pyjamas, “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now.”

“Good point,” he suddenly noticed you were standing in his basement. “Wait, what are you doing down here?”

“I was exploring.”

“You are supposed to be resting,” he gently picked you up like it was nothing. Now you knew that it was due to his being a vampire.

“Now, it’s either the bed or the couch.”

“Actually, I need the bathroom.”

“Fine,” he headed towards the bathroom, you still in his arms.

“Hey, I’m fine to walk the small distance. I don’t need supervision in the bathroom.”

Thanking him as he put you down, it suddenly occurred that you have been festering on the couch for too long. You lifted up an arm and gave yourself a sniff.

“Damn, I need a shower. I must stink!”

“You smell like roses to me.”

Snorting out a laugh, you made your way into the bathroom.

One shower and change of clean clothes later, you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and plopped on the couch. Max came down the spiral staircase now in his suit pants and shirt. He sat opposite you on the couch.

“So, you’re a vampire,” you said after a while.

“Yup.”

“Was that after college?”

“Well, after I was kicked out of our college, I went to this one in Romania. They had a unique approach to learning.”

“They turn all their students into vampires?”

“Not all of them, just their best students like me,” he smiled. “It’s surprisingly hard to turn people into vampires,” you looked at him in confusion. “If you do a normal turn, you’ll end up with a lesser vampire, they’re called ghouls. Well, we’re not allowed to call them ghouls anymore. They formed a union back in…”

“Max, you’re rambling.”

“So a true vampire,” Max continued. “Is one that can pass as a human and they are a lot harder to make.”

“It is? So if I wanted to be a vampire,” you started.

“You want to be a vampire?”

“If I wanted to be a vampire,” you reiterated. “How would I go about it?”

“Well,” he paused and got up. “Do you mind if I get myself something?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Do you want tea? I’ve got Darjeeling or green.”

“Sure,” you watched Max as he wandered about the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and took out a bag of blood from the now-not secret location. He took out two mugs and filled one with blood and put a tea bag in the other.

“You’d need to get a vampire with at least one hundred years on them. And they would have to be assessed. And you’d have to undergo a medical and psychological assessment. So, there’s a lot of paperwork involved. And I hate paperwork.”

“I know, that’s why I do all your paperwork.”

“That’s why I love you. As my executive assistant,” He put the mug of blood in the microwave and turned on the kettle.

“There is another way to make a true vampire,” The microwave pinged as the kettle whistled

“There is?”

“Yeah, it’s some old vampire legend that says if a vampire finds their blood-mate, they can become a true vampire.” His back was to you, but you could still hear him.

“A blood-mate?”

“It’s like a vampire soul mate.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“I know.”

“So how do you know you’ve found your vampire soulmate? Are there matching birthmarks?”

“There’s signs I’m sure, but it’s just a legend,” he coughed something that wasn’t stuck in his throat, and handed you a mug. “Wait, wrong one.”

He took back the one in your hand and handed you the right one. After he took a satisfying sip, he continued.  “Anyways, you must be bored with all this vampire stuff.”

“Oh no, I’m very fascinated. I’ve got a million questions for you.”

“Are you going to interview this vampire?”

“Heck yeah.”

“I should have made a PowerPoint,” he mumbled.

“My first question is: do you have a reflection?”

“Of course, I’m not missing out on seeing this gorgeous face in the mirror.”

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“And ruin this suit?”

“Wait, I’ve seen you out in the sun? Would that not hurt you?”

“Oh my dear, you are thinking Nosferatu, not Bram Stoker.” You tilted your head in question. “Sunlight only harms a lesser vampire but merely weakens a true vampire. Midday sun is the worst which is why I avoid it.”

“So no tropical vacations for you?”

“I wouldn’t be sunbathing. You can enjoy the sunshine while I stay in the shade.”

“Taking me on a tropical holiday, are you?”

Max shrugged and put his empty mug on the coffee table. “Why not? You deserve a tropical holiday.”

“I do. And I’ve got some vacation time saved up,” you mused at the thought of. “So, to continue the interview: Can you cross running water?”

“Of course I can.”

“Don’t you need soil or something?”

He paused the knotting of his tie, “How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

He made a noise that he was impressed. “No, we don’t need our native soil to slumber in. We just need to sleep close to earth during sunlight hours to replenish ourselves. Besides, transportation of soil involves a lot of paperwork.”

You bemoaned his hatred of paperwork and continued, “What about the counting thing?”

“What counting thing?” He started putting on his shoes.

“The one where to stop a vampire, you spread out a bunch of rice or something and the vampire is compelled to count every grain until the sun rises.”

“I have never heard of that one.”

“That’s why The Count on Sesame Street counts everything.”

He popped his head up in surprise, “Are you comparing me to a Muppet?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.” He got up and started putting on his vest and suit jacket.

“So what about the silver thing?”

“The silver thing?”

“The silver thing in that it repels vampires.”

“Oh, that was just a rumour created by a vampire.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, I think they had stock in silver or something and wanted to make it valuable, so the rumour was created.”

“That’s wild. It’s like those people who created the myth that diamonds are special.”

“They are a girl’s best friend.”

“No, Max, I think you’re my best friend.”

“Really? Me?” He shook his head. “I have to go into the office.”

“Aw,” you whined. “But I have more questions.”

“All in good time, my pretty.”

As he was leaving, he kissed the top of your head. It was such a quick, casual gesture neither of you noticed it until it had passed. There was a delay in the realisation for both of you. Max momentarily forgot where he left his keys, even though they were in its usual place. And then he forgot where he left the front door, but he made it out eventually. You didn’t notice as you just sat on the couch feeling confused but also content.

Lovingly tagging @chaithetics @cevans-is-classic @galaxyedging @letsgobarbs @peepawispunk @missladym1981 @kirsteng42 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @ericamarie093 @yorksgirl @popcornforone @allthe-ships @clowncummiess @ellenmunn

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[rexscanonwife]

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

[clarencethemouse]

Bleeding Light (pt. 1)

Nightcrawler x reader

because I'm feral and no one can stop me :)

This has been festering rotting in my brain for a week. This reads like a whole story (and a long one, because I have a lot of thoughts), but my brain spouts better as bullets. So it's bullets. But as a story. Enjoy :))

(also I totally may write out a proper story later. But you get the lore right now)

the Pining.

let it be known that it was mutual. And it was mutual for a Long Time

You were already with someone else when you two met. With his never-ending charm, wit, and kindness, it didn't take long for you to hit it off as good friends.

this soon became a close friendship, often closer emotionally than you were with your partner. You were a mutant, unbeknownst to your partner (out of shame). You trusted them, and they respected mutants, but by the time you gained the courage to tell them, you felt it was too late to risk losing their trust over such a crucial lie. So you maintained this front, masterfully, for over a year

with Kurt, you didn't feel the need to hide. He understood. With him, you could bond and relate life stories in ways you could never with your long-term partner.

it was soon that you began to realize your feelings for Kurt were stretching farther than any other friendship before. And that you liked Kurt more than you ever loved your partner

this tore you up, and you became wracked with guilt. You didn't know how to end it with your partner, though you knew it had to be done. You still loved and cherished the person you spent the last year with, but it wasn't fair to them

over the last several months you two had planned a future together. It was a critical time of your life to gain independence, move out of home, and start your own journeys of life. For so long, you wanted to start this new life with them. It wasn't so simple as breaking up. Their, and your, near future was built upon the assumption that you would marry, as you did love them.

but not as much as you liked Kurt.

Your choice was made when you finally sat down with them and revealed your mutation. One thin cut was made on your hand. Light poured from the skin, igniting both of your faces in shock and fear. As the white blood trickled down your palm, your partner demanded why. Why could you keep this from them? Why did you withhold such an important part of you for so long?

when you could provide no answer they deserved, they walked out.

with your future with them obliterated, you had nowhere to turn. Nowhere to go to escape the psychological torture (and emotional abuse) of your parents' failed marriage. When you turned to Kurt for a deep shoulder to cry on, he provided an answer. An answer he knew would be best for you, and cursed himself that he was more excited about what it could mean for him. The X-Mansion

it only took mere days before you packed everything of value and were stationed at the mansion. It didn't take long for Kurt to convince the professor to let you stay, at least for as long as it took you to get on your feet on your own (and he wanted you to stay because... reasons).

you were more than happy to suggest doing your part as a teacher for the school

settling into the flow of the school, and life so close to people just like you, was a struggle eased by Kurt. He was the new kid before, and just as he had Rogue, you had him.

soon you built your own social circle and support group of friends, fitting perfectly into the puzzle that is the X-Men family. Soon, you were able to grieve your lost love and move on with the world you were always meant for.

...it did not take long for everyone to notice the brighter smiles you offered Kurt. The glances you sent him after making your witty, slightly dirty comments. How he was the first person you sat with during movie night, resting your head on his shoulder as you both grew tired. How you distracted yourself during end-of-the-day classes, searching for him in the hall through the window in your classroom door. How he was the only one you didn't hide the blinding paper cuts and golden scraped knees from.

and it did not take long for everyone to notice the way his tail whipped more excitedly the instant you entered the room. The way he recalled you explaining your day so enthusiastically as if you were the brightest, most wise creature to grace the planet. The way he was always the first to appear by your side after a more gruesome training session, examining every inch of your visible body more thoroughly than Beast. The way when he would let you down after a piggyback ride, his smile faltered ever so slightly to stop touching you.

so Rogue and Gambit formed a plan. Because that's what good friends do

she worked on whittling you down to admit it to yourself. He was happy to encourage Kurt to take more forward action with you. Jubilee soon joined in the plan, and soon there was a whole network of friends conspiring to get you two together because GOD WE ALL SEE IT. THE STUDENTS SEE IT. THE PIGEONS SEE IT. CHARLES AND JEAN HAVE TO SEE IT IN YOUR MINDS EVERY DAMN DAY. GET A ROOM.

and it works

Rogue got it out of you quickly. She was able to help you sort out your feelings and stop feeling so guilty about the past. You did what had to be done, and you never would have been truly happy with your old partner living a life of lies. But you can't lie to Kurt. He knew you deeper than anyone without even trying, and you wished to God he could know you a little better.

it took a month before Gambit was finally able to convince Kurt that you were struggling just the same. Because as much as the man flirted, teased, and worked himself into our attention by any means possible, he could not shake the dreaded pit feeling that you were still someone else's. You were still just out of his reach, and he would never know the feeling of your beautiful lips; your hands beyond high fives and thumb wrestling matches. Never have the honor to show the world everything he wished he could have with you

Kurt met you on the mansion roof. You were minding your business; reading a book and playing with light over the shadows. You didn't want to come inside. And if you were on the roof, that's where Kurt was gonna make himself comfortable. He would hang by the cell tower by just his tail if it meant you would talk to him. Anything if it meant he could tell you the truth.

it started with you looking over at him in a moment of silence, when you truly had no inclination to think he was there with any ulterior motive. Just one thought on the tip of your tongue

"You're so beautiful."

kurt.exe has stopped working

neither of you left the roof. The night wrapped with your head on his chest and his hand in your hair, him wondering where the absolute Hell it all went wrong.

you did wake up around 2 a.m. Sitting up abruptly at the surprise of your position, you were met with Kurt's golden eyes already awake and on you. No one beyond you two knows what happened on the roof that night, but your relationship changed. No more hiding.

when you returned to your lives the next morning, the others didn't need to be told that the mission was successful. Your smiles and bright eyes shared the whole story

[adriana-cosmere-journey]

Spoilers!! My thoughts on finishing Words of Radiance

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED WORDS OF RADIANCE. EVERYTHING BELOW ARE SPOILERS.

I have so many things in my brain right now, but GOD this is such an excellent book. I guess I'll just word-vomit as my thoughts come up, so I may post a few more times later before my brain gets peace. I do need to make up for real-life responsibilities now that I'm done, so I guess I'll take two or three days before I return to the Cosmere.

ANYWAY.

So I began this morning with the Alethi force starting its march towards the center of the Shattered Plain. (Note to future self: once you reach the last 200 or so pages of the Stormlight books, you may not be able to put them down before finishing. Plan accordingly.)

Things on Kaladin's side were kinda depressing because Syl was still gone and he was healing like a normal person. But things of the Plains picked up quickly as Shallan revealed some of her powers to Dalinar. I LOVED this, first because I had feared Shallan would get sucked into everything while trying to hide herself, but also because Dalinar fucking needed this. A sign.

(Nothing surprising about Kaladin ultimately saving the day. Just eternal love for him.)

I loved how quickly leadership and planning started to fall on Shallan as the campaign advanced, and how quickly Dalinar trusted her. Seriously, the girl was suddenly responsible to get EVERYONE to safety, and the way it eventually panned out was so awesome. Ugh, I already want to re-read the last few chapters.

Randon thought: The Parshendi who escaped Eshonai, I guess they are still on the Plains and may become relevant later, right? Hopefully for something more than becoming Voidbringers.

Random thought 2: Rlain doesn't become a Voidbringer, RIGHT???

(I've spoiled myself enough to know he becomes friends with Renarin. Or something.)

I didn't see the Renarin plot twist coming, although I noticed something was up with him.

I am a little scared about Adolin, with everyone becoming a Radiant around him, but not him. Is it cliché to hope he also gets powers? But maybe his path is to be one that remains strong but doesn't have powers? I refuse to believe he just becomes a bad guy out of it. Like, I would absolutely hate a plot like that.

And to be honest, SADEAS HAD IT COMING AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. I would only hate it if that cockroach became like a 'start of a dark path' for Adolin or something like that. Pleaaase tell me that doesn't happen. Or at least not to a degree that would seriously compromise Adolin.

(But it wouldn't surprise me if Ialai became a new big foe instead. I can respect that.)

And speaking of gray characters.... ugh, I was expecting some big betrayal from Moash, but I actually feel bad for him now. Like, okay, he kinda punched Kaladin harder than he expected and would have probably kinda crippled or killed him if his powers hadn't returned, but Moash is now stuck in a situation that makes him feel so much guilt and embarrassment. Like, he was so proud of being part of Bridge Four and he really looked up to Kaladin.... I'm a little weary of what this plotline may bring. I hope he redeems himself.

Otherwise, I am glad we are changing the setting from the Shattered Plains to Urithiru. The tower-city sounds like such a cool concept. I really look forward to seeing the random lore details of how everyone makes it their home.

What else.... Oh! SHALLAN. Ugh, baby love Shallan. I am guessing Veil will indeed get more 'screen time' in the future, as we unravel all the secrets around that. I felt it was kinda obvious that she had killed her mother and her father had taken the blame, but I didn't know why. Now this opens a lot of new questions, like what Mraize meant when he said her family had always been involved in this? What are the Ghostbloods and what is their purpose? Are they the bad guys, or secretive creepy good guys?

It will be interesting to see Jasnah come back, that is for sure. I didn't believe for a minute she was actually dead. For now, I get an inkling that she may be surprised/uncomfortable at arriving at a reality where she is no longer the smartest and most mysterious person around. I mean, she's still super smart and mysterious, but now there are others who also hold their own...

Do we get to learn what she's been doing all this time?

And finally (for now), DALINAR. Ugh, you need to have some serious cojones to bound the frikin STORMFATHER as your spren. I loved that. For a second there I felt like Kaladin, like it had been too easy for him, but then I realized Dalinar has been working on this forever and he probably has healed himself many times over the years with stormlight. Like literally, if someone deserves this, it's Dalinar. So now I'm just happily curious about how all this manifests.

Ufff.... I'm sure I'll remember more things later, but for now this is enough. I need to go take care of responsibilities 😅😅 but my deadlines are on Thursday, so I should be able to make it, right?

Wish me luck! And do leave your (spoiler-free) comments! Feel free to be mysteriously ambiguous about things to come while avoiding actual spoilers 😙😉

[fall0utmind]

ok hear me out i had this idea i don't know if anyone else had this same idea or something

Marco is still a rider and has a channel where he posts covers and everyone loves it until one fine day he announces that he has written a song and it's Happier Than Ever (let's use the imaginary world of Fanfics and this song is not by Billie) and everything turns into chaos with people arguing whether or not it's for Vale

Hi Anon, this is another thing that's been batting around my brain for an age. Firstly, I feel like you mean Marc Marquez? Rather than Marco Bezzechi.... I'm gonna assume this is what you mean since I mainly write Rosquez- so sorry if you meant Bez.

Insane idea!!!!!!! I assume he would be a bit like Charles and Lewis with their music. I like the idea of him just doing it causally like on Instagram. Then he just drops a song he's written, and it's heartbreaking.

I actually think Happier than ever would fit Rosquez really well.

Do you read my interviews?

Marc questioning how much Vale distances himself from Marc when he is practically the face of MotoGP.

I knew when I asked you to (when I asked you to)

Be cool about what I was telling you

You'd do the opposite of what you said you'd do (what you said you'd do)

And I'd end up more afraid

This line is INSANe. Considering the Rosquez lore?

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath

'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

Gonna leave this here and say Argentina 2018...

And I don't talk shit about you on the internet

Never told anyone anything bad

'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

And all that you did was make me fucking sad

I actually don't think I even need to explain. Wow wow wow. This song is so Rosquez coded it's unreal. I'm not going to deep dive the song analysis too much.

But what an insane idea. When would it come out? 2020? Later? Earlier??

Who would be first to realise, I feel like marc wouldn't tell alex but he would definitely work it out first. But what about the others?? I feel like most of them either don't realise Marc sings or jusy ignore the posts, until he releases this (hilarious idea that it's actually becomes quite popular, Valentino is haunted by the radio).

Speaking of Vale, does he know? My vote is YES. By this point he kinda realises he's been fucking awful. Every time it comes on the radio, he turns it off. During ranch training, he shouts at someone to turn it off. At first they all think it's because it's marc, until someone (luca) pieces it together. Imagine having your reputation tainted by an ex lover who you treated shitty writing a love song about you. God I can imagine it.

And the fanssss. Half of them saying it delusional. It's not about Vale. The other half compiling the substantial amount of evidence.

Gonna create a different tag for this. Thank you for the beautiful idea.

[corkinavoid]

Fiance to a Star News

I have given up on trying to force myself to keep working on it. But, hold on, it doesn't mean I'm abandoning it.

I'm looking for a beta/editor/co-author, I'm really not sure what to call it. Let me explain this a bit.

[Update: help found! Thank you!]

I've written that fic in its entirety almost six months ago, in my native language. Then, when I decided to post it, I ran it all through Google Translate. Which is great at translating things word for word in their literal meaning, but not great for sentence structure, idioms, and some minor grammar mishaps. So, since I've posted the first chapter, I've been tideously going through every sentence and either correcting or rewriting it while keeping the meaning.

I am now in the middle of chapter four, and I'm officially so done with it that I'm starting to think about just deleting it all. Which would be a great waste since I do still love that fic.

So I'm looking for someone to help me out here.

More explanations and stuff under the cut.

Let me first show you what I mean by helping me out:

Example of what the text is now:

Tim is silent for a while. The prospects are clearly not rosy, and he, to be honest, doesn’t really understand what to do next. Until now, all he had thought about was how to get out of here, so now that that possibility was gone, he just...

While it is understandable enough, it is not exactly good sentence-structure and grammar wise. Also, it's as plain as white bread.

Example of what the text should (to my best abilities) look like:

Tim pauses, taken aback. The situation does not look very promising, and, if he is being honest, he has no idea of what to do now. Until this moment, all he had thought about was how to get out of the woods. But now that it was not happening and the last chances of escape have all slipped through his fingers, he just...

You see what I mean?

It's extra confusing for myself since when I see the unedited text, my brain automatically reads it in another language and making myself switch manually is draining as fuck, and I'm at my limit.

There's also the issue of some names that translated wrong/did not translate properly/translated as a wrong word. For example, the head of the Academy would be called Headmaster in English, but it translated to Director, or the fact Google Translate keeps translating Sam's pronouns to he/him for some unknown reason, and many more little details.

So I desperately need help.

Perks: co-authoring, access to all the chapters, naturally, as well as all the random notes, pieces of lore that I have, but that have not made it into the fic, any question regarding the fic answered, random thoughts, permission to rewrite literally anything how you see fit (while keeping the general line of plot). Is it co-authoring or adoption at this point? I have no idea, really, but whatever you prefer.

If you're interested, just message me for any other details <3

P.S. Please understand that there are 10 (maybe 9.5) chapters to be edited. And also that I will be giving you a sort of test piece of text to try it out. If, at any point later, you decide it's not your cup of tea anymore, that's totally fine, I'll understand. I just really, really want to post this fic, but I don't want to throw the plain unedited version there.

Thanks in advance!

[teeth--king]

Hello! Sorry if you've already been asked this question, but I couldn't find any answers to it!

How is Wolfe's relationship with the other inhabitants of Pelican Town?

How does Wolfe get along with, for example, Penny and Pam, or Willy and Linus

Is Wolfe friends with other inhabitants?

I love your art. Elliott is my favourite character, so I enjoy your fanarts a lot.

Have a nice day!

Do not apologize, I have not been asked this as of yet, I tend to be too anxious to speak about my farmer and his lore much so this is very much appreciated in fact. Thank you for that. (and thank you for the compliment, he has brought me joy for sometime and I am happy to share that joy with others! hope you have a nice day as well)

Putting it under a read more as I do not want to accidentally clutter anything.

Wolfe is friends with a good handful of the valley's residents, but it took him time as like myself, he is very anxious and light of words in unfamiliar or tense situations. His first friend in the valley was Emily, she took him under her wing as she could tell that he was extremely awkward and needed help making the first step in social situations. This was very much appreciated by him as he nearly left the valley right after arriving due to second thoughts and fear of not fitting in.

Another resident he's close with is Willy. He of course was drawn to Willy due to his fisher profession, but what really cemented it was that Wolfe loved hearing his tales of the sea from both his and his father's voyages. Wolfe does see Willy as a semi father figure for himself, but more so someone of respect and who has lived their life in their own way, which is something he strives for.

(sketches stop here, I was going to do more but my brain has not been very kind to me lately so this is all that I could muster)

The final of his early friendships he make is Linus. Wolfe tends to spend a good chunk of time time foraging and fishing, so he would end up in the mountains semi frequently(he hangs in the mountains or at the beach most of the time). Linus is another person he respects, his respect for the earth is very admirable to Wolfe. Linus has also fished him out of the mines too many times so they have bonded over that as well.

Later on he befriends Leah, Maru, and Sam (and maybe Demetrius, haven't decided but they're both science autism) when he becomes more comfortable with talking with others around town. He connects with Leah over a shared love of the arts(I don't talk about it much[anxiety] but Wolfe has an small artistic side as a hobby, mainly around sketching wildlife and his farm animals[might add more but don't want to make him too much of my self insert as an artist]), he was originally too scared to talk to her as he thought she was too cool and rarely got the chance to talk to her because of that. He starts to befriend Maru after he delivers a request that she ordered and they both realize that they can go off on scientific rambles and the other would listen and understand what they were talking about(to a degree). Finally Sam, they only started to bond more after the closure of Joja when Sam instead works for the library/museum. There Sam would ask him what something was after Wolfe donated anything, despite Sam rarely holding the information(no fault of his own[ADHD man]) he would enjoy doing it especially if it spurred a friendly conversation after.

There are a few people that I wouldn't call his friends but more so they have mutual respect and acceptance of each other and might chill and maybe chat. This includes Robin(most friendly of the bunch despite not being "friends"), Sebastian(I hc him as trans so trans respect), Harvey, Penny, Gus, Marnie, and the Wizard(he comes to him with lots of questions, and honestly one of the few residents he actually wants to befriend but the Wizard does not rub me as one for friendships).

There are a few villagers he's still hasn't fully concurred his anxiety around(George, Pam, and Alex), but there is only one resident he actively dislikes to an extent and it's Lewis. Lewis is one of the few members of the valley who slightly remember him from when he'd visit his grandfather's farm as a child, so not as Wolfe. Because of this Lewis was put off when he first arrived in the valley as the former owner's grandson and not as the granddaughter that he expected. Wolfe was originally trying to be stealth about it but Lewis was seen as a road block for him. He also does not respect Lewis's ability to run the town and does not think he's doing the best for the residents(he does not know what to do about it but is just bitter beneath the skin when it comes to that).

If I left anything out or have anything that you would like elaborated I would love to know! My brain is a bit of a mush at the moment so apologies if this is scrambled or missing any part, I also got a bit over excited and anxious to speak, so it may be a bit muddled due to that contrasting concoction. But seriously thank you for asking.

[shewolfofvilnius]

The Parasite Within (Gortash x Female Durge)

Read on AO3 - Posted complete story! Chapters: 3 Words: 8,799 Relationship: Enver Gortash x Custom Dark Urge (Female Tiefling)

(content warnings for excessive and often comedic violence, sexual scenes and explorations of kinks, pregnancy and the forced termination of it, and did I mention the violence? This might not be new for some of y'all but it is me.) Sample:

The woman, a tiefling of Asmodean heritage a decade or so the man’s junior, wore an elaborate overcoat made of tanned white dragon – or in this case, dragonborn – leather. The insulation had been vital in the frigid hell they’d just returned from. [...]

Referring to her now-discarded coat, he noted “I must say, my dear, I am still not sure what you accomplished by turning your predecessor into that gaudy piece of fashion. If anything, it seems the provenance of your ‘sister’, as she calls herself. It is hardly your style.” The man gave the woman an affectionate kiss on the hand as he stared hungrily into her black-and-turquoise eyes.

“Simple, Enver. It’s a statement that I’ll suffer no pretenders to my birthright. To think that this fraud thought he was going to lead my father’s cult into this glorious new age? Hardly.” A malicious laugh escaped from her tightly pursed lips. “I knew what his fate was to be years ago, when I first came here. He might have thought himself a proficient killer, might have once left this city in terror, but none can match the true gifts for murder held by little old me.”

She playfully let herself be twirled in a momentary dance with the man before he paused to chastise her.

“You are neither little nor old. But you are most certainly gifted and deadly. Be careful, Tavaria, that your own hubris does not outstep your own abilities. You are most certainly known to have a blind spot or two. I do not trust Orin, not even remotely, and she is becoming more and more adamant that she be included in our discussions even despite that she would never credibly be Bhaal’s Chosen. You need to deal with her.”

“Perhaps, Lord Gortash, but tonight...tonight Enver I’d just like to show you why they call me the Lash of Bhaal.”

=========== Enver Gortash and Tavaria, the Chosen of Bhaal celebrate a successful heist upon Mephistopheles' vault and icy fortress of Mephistar the only way they know how. Gortash, in his own commanding way, gets Tavaria to explore one of her kinks - however, the experimentation backfires when she gets a surprise announcement from a cleric a few weeks later.

Undaunted, they - and Orin - proceed to Moonrise Towers to formulate their plan to conquer the world and tame the Illithid Elder Brain in the depths below. The Dark Urge even uses her condition to develop a strategy to delay ceremorphosis.

After crowning the brain, however, Orin learns the truth of her sister's recent erratic behavior.

This is a three chapter origin fic front-loaded with some Durgetash smut. We get to see exactly who my BG3 OC Tavaria was in her time as Bhaal's Chosen and yes, both how depraved Tavaria had become in her time as the queen of murder as well as how much of a role she had grown to take in Gortash' life. Plus, answers as to the origin of delayed ceremorphosis AND why Orin betrayed (this) Durge, bc I still love me some lore even when I'm being a freak.

[the-copycat-hero]

In my mind, Monoma knows how to pickpocket, do sleight of hand, roll a coin across his knuckles, all that good stuff :D I also hc him to have voluntary nystagmus. No particular reason, I just 100% think Monoma would use that skill to freak people out

Also I hc him to be friends with Hatsume Mei. Each time he visits he brings a whole packet of papers, diagrams, analytics of quirks and how they relate to their costumes, and Mei def eats it up EVERY TIME. She also has him try quirks she needs for the equipment whenever possible. They’re smart kids :>

What do you like seeing most in monoma fics/fan work and what do you want to see more of? Any relationships (romance or gen) you like? Also I’m very curious about the Monoma family 👀 Clearly they don’t seem to keep in touch. What does Monoma say when he’s asked about them? Is it something he keeps under wraps or are most of his friends aware

!!!!!!! Big Brain Takes! Massive!

sleight of hand (and other assorted part trick) Monoma is near and dear to my heart, and i could definitely see him being able to do Some Sorta Nonsense with his body like voluntarily vibrate his eyes. i could see him being double jointed, too. (he is a Bendy Boy.)

ALSO the fact that Monoma and Hatsume never interacted in any meaningful way will haunt me until i die. they are so smart, and they are such freaks (/pos). their aura would have been so powerful. maybe too powerful? i guess Hori had to nerf them somehow.

as far as fanworks go, i am a massive fan of any fic that has Monoma showcasing his quirk. (for example, Learning Curve has a fantastic scene with a training exercise/mock battle that i frequently go back to because it is So Peak to me.)

as far as things i'd like to see more of, i'd kill for more introspective pieces of Monoma learning how to adjust after the war. (let me see him talk to Bakugo, who he watched die! let me see him talk to Aizawa, who tried to protect him!!!) i'm hoping some more of that will come with time as the anime draws closer to the end, but i suppose we shall see.

romance-wise, i'm big on Monoshin and have been since season 2. the fact that it used to be a rarepair floors me. (really played the long game on that one). that being said, i could honestly read about Monoma with almost any other student, his personality is just that much fun to me. apart from Monoshin, i've been seeing quite a bit of Timebomb and Monoma/Pony on my timeline, and i find both so incredibly charming.

platonically: Kendo. Shinsou. Tokage. Mei. Honenuki. Bakugo (especially after the war). ERI. Vlad and/or Aizawa. slap Monoma in an interaction with any of them and i am Locked In.

FINALLY, the Monoma family. (man, the Monoma family.) @smallvictorianchildwhofoundwifi and i have constructed pages upon pages of lore for these human disasters, but i'll try to keep it brief:

Monoma's dad (still need a name) - only ever agreed to have a child in the first place because his side of the family was pressing for it. resents Neito for reasons that i'll probably dig into later - but as long as Neito isn't actively making a mockery of the family name, his dad really can't be bothered to think about him.

Monoma's mom (Hiromi) [PRE WAR] - had Neito when she was young (around 21 years old) because, again, her husband's side of the family was insistent. she adored him at first sight; however, she has had to make a lot of changes to appease her husband's side of the family over the years, and it has turned her into a harsher, colder person overall. every once and a while, she'll be struck with fondness for her son, but it never lasts for long before she goes back to being made of ice. maybe also unconsciously resents Neito some for marking the end of her old life.

Hiromi (cont) [Post-War] - determined to reconnect with her son after almost losing him in the final battle. has made so many mistakes that it seems impossible, but Neito got his tenacity from someone, and it certainly wasn't his father.

Monoma's class knows next to nothing about his family. even Kendo, who has known Monoma for a long while, has precious little information to go off of.

some of the girls in Monoma's class stumble across a picture of Monoma's mother from one of her last modeling shoots, but when they ask him about her, Monoma just tells them that he has his mother to thank for his dashing good looks and leaves it at that. Ittaka - Monoma's old caretaker (and pseudo-older sister) - comes to visit him once, and his classmates briefly think that his real mother must have died until Kendo corrects them (because she may not know much about the Monomas, but she knows that they are all still kicking). but that's about all they've got.

tldr; trying to wrangle a straight answer out of Monoma regarding his family is impossible.

[wendichester]

⋆˙⟡ bobby's niece,

summary. dean might kinda be crushing on you

pairing. dean winchester x bobby's niece!reader

wordcount. 657

Dean Winchester has been in a lot of tough situations—hunting monsters, dodging the law, saving the world once or twice. But nothing quite compares to the absolute mess he’s in now.

Because he’s got a massive crush on Bobby Singer’s niece.

And that? That’s a problem.

Not because Bobby ever said anything directly, but because, well—Dean’s pretty sure if he so much as thought about you in a way Bobby didn’t approve of, the old man would skin him alive and use his ribs for spare parts.

But damn if you don’t make it hard to behave.

You’re staying at Bobby’s for a while, helping out in the salvage yard, flipping through old lore books like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And Dean? He’s dying.

Because every time you laugh, it does something dangerous to his heart. Every time you brush past him, smelling like wildflowers and gasoline, he has to remind himself to breathe.

And the worst part?

You’re completely oblivious.

You flirt without realizing it—throwing casual compliments his way, stealing his flannel when you get cold, resting a hand on his shoulder when you lean over to read something. It’s torture.

And Sam? That smug son of a bitch? He knows.

“You’re pathetic,” Sam mutters one afternoon, watching Dean nearly drop a wrench because you smiled at him.

“Shut up,” Dean hisses back.

But it’s too late. You’re already looking over, curious. “What’s going on?”

Dean clears his throat, straightens up, desperately tries to play it cool. “Nothin’. Just—uh, fixing this carburetor.”

You raise a brow. “That’s a fuel pump.”

Dean curses under his breath.

Sam snorts.

And Bobby, from across the yard, glares.

Yeah. Dean is so screwed.

The night gets worse when Bobby asks Dean to help you carry a box of old lore books inside. Not that carrying books is the problem.

The problem is you.

Inside the house, you set the books down on the table, stretching your arms above your head, letting out a quiet groan that makes Dean’s brain short-circuit.

“God,” you sigh, shaking out your hands. “Bobby really needs to stop hoarding every supernatural book in existence.”

Dean forces himself to look anywhere but at the sliver of skin peeking out when your shirt rides up. “Yeah, well, he’s stubborn.”

You smirk, plopping down on the couch. “Runs in the family.”

Dean opens his mouth—probably to say something cocky, maybe to deflect the fact that his brain is still stuck on how soft you look lounging there—but then you really ruin his life.

You stretch out your legs, nudging his thigh with your foot. “C’mon, Winchester. Sit. I don’t bite.”

Dean hesitates for half a second.

Then he folds.

He sits next to you, keeping a respectable amount of space between you. Because, y’know. Self-control.

You tilt your head, watching him with a little smile. “You’re kinda weird, y’know that?”

Dean blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “You’re usually such a flirt, but with me, you get all quiet and weird.”

His throat closes up.

You don’t know.

You really don’t know.

He’s about to throw out some excuse, maybe crack a joke—because God forbid he just confess that he’s stupidly, painfully into you—when Bobby’s voice calls from the other room.

“Dean! Need you out here, boy!”

Dean jumps up way too fast. “Yep! On it!”

You blink up at him. “Uh. You okay?”

“Peachy!” He forces a grin. “See ya, sweetheart.”

And then he flees.

Later that night, Sam finds him nursing a beer in the kitchen.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam says simply.

Dean glares. “The hell are you talkin’ about?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “She likes you, dude.”

Dean scoffs, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, okay.”

“She does,” Sam insists. “And if you weren’t so busy being a dumbass, you’d see it.”

Dean pauses, fingers tightening around the bottle.

No.

No way.

Bobby’s niece wouldn’t be into him.

Would she?

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

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[aqua-dan]

hello!! Do you have any Garth comic recommendations for someone (me) who has never read a Garth comic outside of a handful of TT issues before?

Hi!! I definitely have some recommendations! This definitely isn't a comprehensive reading list by ANY means (although I do want to make one eventually!), but rather a small smattering of Garth centric comics that I think are fun or noteworthy! (These are also not in any particular order, just written out as they come into my brain lol)

Tempest (1996) - Obviously the Garth holy grail! There is no better Garth comic than this. It is peak and honestly one of the best books DC has ever put out. It's short, too (only 4 issues), so it's not too intensive of a read.

Adventure Comics #269 - "The Kid from Atlantis" - Garth's first appearance! Don't get too hung up on the lore here, as it changes later on, but it's a sweet issue and obviously important!

Adventure Comics #270 - "The Menace of Aqualad" - I love this issue for a multitude of reasons-- including the fully unintentional foreshadowing,-- but mainly I love it because it showcases what a sweet person Garth is and always has been.

World's Finest Comics #133 - "Aquaman's New Partner -- Aqua-girl" - Again, the lore needs to be disregarded, but this issue fascinates me as an early iteration of Garth's insecurity about where he stands with Arthur/feeling useful.

I probably shouldn't list everything individually so this post doesn't end up being a mile long, haha! So I'll start putting some groupings together:

Aquaman vol 1 #14, 18, 23, and #33

The Brave and the Bold #54

Teen Titans vol 1 #11 (not particularly Garth centric but just especially fun to me lol), #17, #19, #28, #29, #44-end of series. (Side note that @ttwasteland has a really good podcast covering volume 1 of Teen Titans! Actually, they have a lot of Teen Titans podcasts! Which is really useful for those who struggle to read Silver Age comics + I am immensely pleased with Hub's Aqualad enthusiasm!)

The Brave and the Bold (vol 3) #10

Death of a Prince (Technically, I recommend reading all of it, since it'll help you understand how things got to this point. But especially Adventure Comics #452 and the Aqualad stories in #453-455.)

Tales of the Teen Titans #85 & #86 + Teen Titans Spotlight #10

Teen Titans Spotlight #18

Teen Titans Spotlight #21

Aquaman vol 5 (Yes, all of it lol)

Showcase '96 #1

Teen Titans (Vol 3) #12-16

JLA/Titans

Titans (vol 1) At least the Devin Grayson portion, but I don't dislike the later stuff either!

There are also storylines that I think are fun or important that happen in across various books/stories (Obsidian Age, Aquaman vol 6, other (Teen) Titans stories, Blackest Night, CoIE, dare I even say Sword of Atlantis...), but I'll save those for a more in-depth reading list some other time! These ones are just popping up in my head rn.

If you want N52/Rebirth stuff, there are also a few stories that are pretty good. Sadly, they're pretty few and far between since canon changes and DC tossing their character bibles have left poor Garth in an odd, largely OoC limbo for years. Although I don't /love/ these stories as much as others, they still manage to vaguely pass the vibe check:

Nightwing & the Titans in Team Building (Robin 80th Anniversary 100 Page Super Spectacular) It's not super Garth centric, but it's fun!

Aquaman 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular #1 - “It’s a Family Affair”

Aquaman 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular #1 - “Lady in the Lake”

World's Finest: Teen Titans & DC's Spring Breakout "Relay for your Life" Garth's characterization in these... isn't right, but I feel like it has the spirit more than the vast majority of things published in recent years.

Titans (2023-) I... don't totally feel right putting this here, but I feel like slowly... extremely slowly... they are starting to fix Garth's characterization. We're not quite there yet-- and it is sadly written by Tom Taylor,-- but I feel like it's going to lead to something that's actually good for Garth again. (Aka so many hints towards a potential new Tempest mini-series or one-shot have been dropped lately, and I feel like this series will be context important.)

Ok, to try to finish this out: Also consider watching some stuff with Garth in it like Aquaman (1967) TV show / DC Super Hero Girls (2019), or reading some cute, non-canon series such as Tiny Titans! It's just good fun!!

Anyways, thank you so much for the ask!! I hope this helps!!! (And thank you for allowing me a chance to ramble lol!)

[bleue-flora]

just realized i’ve been following your work for over 2 and a half years

Wait… really?! Have I even been here that long? Wow. You must have been here from the beginning then. Well, for real, thank you for sticking around and supporting me. :) It’s been a crazy ride, anon, and I’m glad I have been able to entertain you along the way. <3 <3 <3

Yeah, I just checked and looks like I posted the first chapter of my first ever fanfiction on November 5, 2022 after being encouraged by @monsoonrays to post the scene I wrote of Dream’s Twitter space scrapped lore because I just wanted to know what it could have been like and since I didn’t find many people writing it, I decided to do it myself lol. I didn’t necessarily plan on sharing it though, it was more so just for me and I never intended to write more, the other three chapters just kinda happened after the Las Nevadas stream gave me staged duo brain rot (I’ve never recovered)…

But ya know I figured maybe what’d be really fun to look at, now that we’re getting all nostalgic, is my very first draft just to see how far I’ve come and just to say, don’t let your grammar or verbiage or whatever keep you from writing, because you can edit, and improve, and get help, and ya know it’s also okay to have scuffed grammar or not be the best writer. For years I didn’t write because I thought I couldn’t, that I was bad at it, that I wasn’t creative enough, that my grammar and spelling were too bad to be a writer. And now, despite adhd, dyslexia, and a reading comprehension disorder, I have posted 182,135 words to ao3. In large part thanks to y’all’s support and encouragement and appreciation. <3 <3 So, to anyone who needs to hear this, don’t let your weaknesses hold you back. I thought I couldn’t write, I thought I couldn’t draw people, I thought I couldn’t make a cool YouTube video. And yet, here I am, over 2 years later, with 4 figure art pieces, 9 ao3 posted works and a couple cool YouTube videos (not to mention a crap ton of Tumblr essays lol…)

And without further or do let’s go back to the beginning, back to my brain in October 2022, during the height of senior engineering midterms and still recovering from a concussion…

Scrapped Lore - Ch 1 of Hell in a Box

————————————————————

Thoughts racing in his head as he follows the coords his ally has provided. The gentle wind brushing surprisingly cold sand against his armor. A feeling of confidence and protection engulfing him with his netherite. His smug grin hidden under the mask. He didn’t have this before. Let’s see how Quackity does in a fair fight. Before he knows it, he’s arrived at his destination. A stair case before him leading to what appears to be an underground base. Quackity’s name tag is below, so Dream enters. Despite the growing unease in his chest. Despite the fear creeping its way up his body. He ignores the warnings of the inside voice telling him to run, as he pursues, revenge consuming his mind.

He makes his way down the stairs into the darkness and before he can even think or take in his surroundings, it’s raining potions, the all too nostalgic sound of glass shattering, running a shiver down his back. Weakness. Blindness. Nausea. Harming. His knees buckle, his body collapses. The world appears to be spinning as if tilted on its axis. His vision begins to go dark, and he just hopes that what he sees is a drug caused hallucination. That the rough dark obsidian and the old familiar room is just his mind running with panic, playing tricks on him, joining the chemicals swimming through his veins. It wasn’t.

Slowly Dream’s mind begins to make its way back to consciousness and into his body. Before he opens his eyes, he can feel the thick coarse texture of rope wound tight against his skin. From head to toe he’s tied in a cruel-fully painful manner. In what seems to be a rather excessive amount of rope. Almost as if the person or persons were deeply afraid of his escape. They are right of course to be afraid. He’s not the bloody, weak, frail thing he was in prison. Well not completely, anyways. Around his neck, lies rope tightly attached to his hands, constraining a good amount of his already limited air flow. Adding to the anxiety and panic making its way through his lungs. He’s completely restricted in his attempts to escape, all movement tugging at the rope around his neck. He can’t breathe. His hands pulled through the wooden bars of the back of a chair, tied behind him and the oh so nostalgic feeling of the wooden chair beneath him. Well, ain’t this familiar. It’s not made for torture though, no armrests to bind his hands for removing nails, no smell of blood stains on the wood. Yet. But it’s not The chair, and as pathetic as it sounds he can’t help but be a little comforted by that fact. That observation keeping him sane. It’s not the same. It’s not the same. It’s not the same. He’s not back. He made it out. He’ll make it out again. Maybe.

Thrown out of his thoughts, he realizes that he can hear voices. Through his head is pounding headache, a likely result from the shear about of drugs in his system, he can make out the distinct voice of Quackity and Sam speaking on what to do with him. What he wouldn’t give to never hear their voices again. Never hear his name from their lips. Yet here he is, again, tied to a godforsaken chair ready for another session with his tormentors. Armor-less. Alone. Helpless. It’s like nothing has changed, his weeks of healing vanished at the scene. He can’t make out the whole conversation but focusing he make out, “Should we just kill him?…Can’t put him back now….We should kill him the same way he did you…Don’t you want revenge, Sam?...I say it’s time for someone else to lose an eye to a fucking pickaxe!... Let’s do it with the same one, his, oh the irony!...” His ears specifically pick up the all too familiar, sadistic gleeful tone of Quackity, sending an involuntary shutter through him. As he feared, they’re going to kill him. What a waste, months of torture, isolation, starvation and for what? For them to put him out of his misery now. What’s the point? It can’t have all been for nothing! He can’t have made it through this year, just to die here, bound to this chair at the scene of his endless nightmares, like he never left.

He hears footsteps leading away from him, an angry yet cheerful rhythm that he immediately recognizes as Quackity. Despite the circumstances, he can’t help but feel relief at the distance gained between him and his torturer. The nostalgic sound of redstone activating, signaling his exit, and probably bringing down the lava wall.

Reluctantly Dream’s eyes open and he peaks with a sense of dread washing over him. Please don’t let it be real. Please be a dream. Unfortunately, to his dismay, a lava wall falls before him, blocking his exit, the far too reminiscent sound of its loud flow buzzing in his ears. Oh, how he wishes it would stop! Oddly, he’s not sure how to feel. If he should be horrified to be trapped yet again by the warm liquid or glad that it’s blocking out Quackity. But he can’t help but feel relieved. The familiar lava, his twisted form of protection, yet again. Not that it’ll last.

He’s positioned in the middle of the cell room and his initial observations prove his suspicions correct. Oh, how he wishes he was wrong. The chest, the cauldron, the purple tears falling from the ceiling, even the crying obsidian seems to be placed in the exact same spots. He would know. It’s all a bit too real, too reminiscent. He can feel the rough obsidian pressed against the soles of his scarred bare feet. It can’t be the vault though. He has the key, it’s his. His hell turned home. His vulnerability turned protection. He’s not afraid. It doesn’t matter. It’s not the room he fears it’s his situation. And yet, he can’t help but feel the dread and fear crawl its way through him at the sight of the replica before him.

Taking in his surroundings, he hears the other pair of boots grumpily trot closer until what he knows to be Sam is standing rather close to him. Sam hasn’t noticed he’s awake yet, or he is ignoring him. He has mastered that skill after all. He never listened before. He never gave into mercy while hearing his screams. But he’s not the same Sam. He’s not the Warden anymore. This is different! There’s a chance.

So, as a last straw to save his neck once again, he thinks up what to say. Manipulation is his strength after all, even if he’s minutes away from a full blow panic attack, Even if it’s life or death. Oh, how this feels like de ja vou. He made Sam his bitch after all, he can do this.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Dream mumbles still kinda out of it, “S-Sam…”

Sam’s head immediately whips around, to him, locking his gaze. Meeting the crazed smily mask sending an involuntary shutter down his spine at the sight of his murderer. That’s quickly accompanied by a satisfied grin making its way up his face at the man’s predicament.

“Look—look who’s awake!… Dream, the most 'powerful' man on the server, bound helplessly to a chair, again. Who’s the idiot now?” Sam smirks back.

Despite his words, Dream can see the uneasiness in his form, his facial expressions not fully matching his words. Ignoring Sam’s bait, Dream instead causally asks, tone smooth and surprisingly calm, “How—how have you been Sam?”

Sam rightfully taken aback by the friendly coolness in Dream’s tone, looks at the man again, vision a bit blurry at the sight of the haunting smile. Without realizing he mindlessly utters, “Good I guess… I mean—What do you—?… You—you killed me Dream! What do you mean how have I been?” His confused tone turning loud and angry with great momentum.

Unfazed by the revelation, Dream reasons back, voice steady, despite the slight tremor in his hands and the suppressed flinch at the raised voice, “To—to be fair… I only killed you once and you know, you can be hurt about it, but that—that was justified. You abused your power over me in prison, so I took a life. Quackity took time out of his day to visit me, for months, just to inflict pain and misery” Joyfully fulfilling his cruelest fantasies. Doing unspeakable things that not even the darkest nightmares could come up with. Things not even Dream would have ever considered. The Unfathomable, Indescribable, creativity in making hell on earth. “So you know, I came here to kill him…” Dream pauses, Quackity’s name on his tongue sending involuntary shivers down his back and a hitch in his shallow breath. He doesn’t say how he’s just hoping this will help him sleep through the night for once. Or how he’s desperately grasping at something to mend his broken mind and body. How he’s trying to feel safe instead of afraid.

Finding his voice again, “All of us—all of us have our reasons. You know, we are all right from our point of view… But I would say that—that the books are balanced between us. You know, I’ve left you alone. I released you from Tubbo’s imprisonment. I fed you steak, cake and even—even golden apples when they left you to starve. You know, I haven’t destroyed anything on the server. I haven’t imprisoned or tortured or waged war. All I’ve done is try and live, hunted down like—like an animal by the entire server.”

“Oh come on, Dream, don’t act all innocent. We both know you’re not.”

Annoyed, Dream responds coolly, “Innocent? No one’s innocent, Sam. Not—not you. Not me. Not Quackity. N-not anyone! You know, we all have enemies. We’ve all wronged each other for our own reasons. But I’m not your enemy. I’m not the—not the bad guy. I’m not—I’m not pure evil.”

“So you say... I should— I should just what?… Let you go because you 'let me off easy' because you’re not—not evil?…” Sam’s voice rising again, ebbing with mock pity. A stroke of anger burning in him, “You haven’t—you haven’t yet? As if that’s a comfort! As if that washes your slate clean! As if I can leave here and not fear you coming after me, the rest of the server… and T-Tommy! As if—as if you didn’t murder me while I was defenseless, after I gave you access to the prison!”

Dream suppresses a wince from the tone and for the briefest moment fear, panic and anger pass across his face. No one notices.

In a much more hushed defeated tone Dream somewhat desperately voices, “You know. he’s—he’s going to kill me, Sam.”

Silence falls between the two for a brief moment, before Dream continues, “He’s going to—he’s going to take my last life… and you know unlike your death, he’s going to drag it out to a painfully slow degree. Butchering me like I’m—I’m nothing but a cow for his dinner… I’m a person, Sam, a member of this smp. I may—I may not be the 'good guy' b—but you know I’m not the big bad they make me out to be and neither are you.”

“I’m not like you! Of course, I’m—I’m not the bad guy!” Sam states firm, voice shaking from that last insinuation.

Dream lowers his head, the yelling is really not helping his ponding headache nor his panic. It’s all a bit too familiar to everyday in his cell. Him trying to reason with the Warden Sam for any spec of mercy. Being denied because ‘he deserves it.’ He made the rules of the prison after all.

Another moment of silence passes between them. Dream barely keeping at bay the sense of dread rising through him, the feeling of defeat and hopelessness washing over him. His hindered breath becoming more and more labored as his body holds still, waiting for what’s to come. He’s running out of time and Sam wasn’t budging, not that Dream’s surprised. Just as stubborn as always in his righteousness and fury. Still intent on allowing the walls to be painted with Dream’s blood for his wrongdoings.

His panic just continues to get worse the longer he’s here. Trapped in a perfect replica of the cell that backdrops the scenes of his never ending nightmares. He wonders if maybe insanity has really taken him over. Maybe Punz was right that one can only endure so much before they crack. That people have limits before they break. Because right now he can’t help but smile. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen making it to his brain. Maybe it’s because he’s finally greeting death like a friend. Maybe because he too can see the sadistic irony of his situation. Maybe because what else can he do after all, that’s what his mask made him, a smile. Nothing more. Nothing further than the smooth white surface. A seemingly sadistic pleasure painted on. No man behind the mask. Just a simple smile for all to see. A monster to haunt nightmares. An emotionless, unfeeling predator without motivations. But don’t predators also have motivations and reasons? Aren’t predators also prey? Don’t snakes bite to protect themselves and their nest? Not to be cruel but out of necessity and instinct.

Insanity or not, Dream can feel himself slipping into the darkness but he is nothing if not stubborn. He’s nothing if not desperate to live. Even when it would be easier to let go. Even when death would be a mercy. Even at the times when life was endlessly unbearable. He’ll be damned if he lets Sam feel like the good guy in his last moments. If he lets Sam and Quackity keep their hypocritical, self righteous, satisfied smiles at the sight of his misery.

So Dream, face stretching into a grin, mutters under his breath, “P—Prove it.” A challenge, born of desperation and anger.

“W—What?” Sam voices, caught off guard by the end in silence.

“You know, prove that you—that you are not the bad guy!” Dream lifts his head to meet Sam’s gaze and smugly smiles under the mask. Because if he doesn’t he might just let the sobs of fear and despair escape him. An anxiety attack of anguish held back only by his pride. Because if he doesn’t smile, maybe Sam won’t see him as the strong and dangerous monster but as a human being.

“Prove that you aren’t me or Quackity. That you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man to satisfy revenge. That you know—you are good and do things for the good of others... If I —I die today the revive book dies with me. Can you really say that’s for the best? That you know… that—that price is worth paying for revenge?

An deathly silence falls again. Sam pauses in his pacing to look at Dream. Meeting his gaze, Dream can see that Sam’s face shows he’s thinking about and considering something. At the sight, Dream can’t help but feel a fragile hope build in his aching chest. That perhaps today won’t be his last. That perhaps people do change. Perhaps there is such thing as mercy. But he can’t fully embrace it, because he knows he could lose that hope in an instant. The one attachment he could never seem to sever and loses far too often anyways. He clings to it desperately watching Sam’s every movement. Holding in what little oxygen he can get in his lungs, ready to release with either relief or despair.

Sam begins to move again, seemingly making up his decision and pulls out his sword with one smooth movement. Sending uncontrollable panic through Dream. Breathing becoming impossible, mind and sight losing focus as Sam approaches, sword in hand. This is it. Sam’s going to kill him. Perhaps this is the mercy he deserves. Sam will be quicker than Quackity at least. The sword comes up under his chin pushing his head up to face Sam’s glare. He can’t look though he doesn’t want the last thing for him to see to be his former friend’s righteous fury. Disappointment. Disgust. Or whatever emotions clear on his face depicting his intent to kill him off for the last time. A red drop of blood falls slowly down his neck at the sword’s pressure, but then there’s the sound of rope being cut, releasing the painful pressure from around his throat. He finally breathes, looks up, and meets Sam’s eyes. Oh? Is that regret?…pity?… Doesn’t matter. It’s not anger, it’s not self righteous fury, it’s not the look intent on taking one’s final life. If he squints hard enough he can even see his former friend’s gaze. At the sight, Dream can’t help but feel the ghostly warmth of Sam’s hug and smile at the past memories. Of fishing together on the docks of the house he once built. Sam’s laughter and ambitions filling his ears, tearing through his already mangled heart. A brief moment of actually good memories filling his head, a welcomed change. And then it’s gone, a mere second over, Sam’s face replaced with one of determination as he continues to saw through the rest of the ropes, seemingly intent on not nicking Dream with his sword in the process but failing in some places. He’d be lying if despite the ropes being cut, the sword’s proximity was still causing slight panic that only worsened when Sam moves behind him. But then it was over, his hands free, already beginning to regain some feeling in them. Sam turns, flicks a lever the all too nostalgic sound of the lava lowering, opening his way out. Or his torturer’s way in. He turns to Sam who’s not making eye contact with him, and whispers a hushed hesitant, “thank you” before bolting out of the room.

Not wanting to test his luck any further. He makes his way to the light, just in time too, as he sees Quackity making his way through the desert back to the entrance. He sneaks around, narrowly missing Quackity’s line of sight and speedily goes from corner to corner hiding from sight best he could. He may be out, but he’s still screwed. He has no armor. No weapons. He has nothing. It’s at this point when the panic that subsided comes back full force. The sound of an alarm begins to go off as a message appears in the chat calling for everyone to search Las Nevadas for him. Fuck. Looking around he spots a cave and runs like there’s no tomorrow, because there may not be one toward the nearby cave.

Slumping down the wall as he attempts to pull air into his lungs as fast as possible. Adrenaline and anxiety adding to his already out of shape body making it really hard to breathe. His mind going through a million plans of how to escape the city, when he hears a voice that sends an involuntary shiver down his back. The former president’s propaganda about him ringing in his ears, he spins round to meet Wilbur’s gaze, who whispers confused, “Why are we hiding?”

Here’s the link to read what happens next and the current version which has like another 1000 or so more words cuz ya know, I can’t help but add angst :)

[diviningrodtv]

Oh yeah, NSH Time.

I've been holding this post back for like a week😅

I absolutely love how NSH came out and I think he's currently my favourite rain world model that I've done! (Sorry Pebbles, I'm going to upgrade you later anyway :]

I also made his scarf easily removable so you can see how the stripes aren't just on his head! The stripes and his irises also glow, but a bit brighter than the areas on Five Rotten Pebbles.

His antennae are pretty similar to how I did Sliver's, especially considering I did his first! XD They're separated from his head a bit.

Also if you've noticed in my art that his eyes are the exact same as in the model here, that's because they are! I tried finding a way to draw them how I usually might, but I just couldn't get the same vibe! So I said, "Fuck it!" and I've been drawing over his model ever since XD

NSH is also who I used to make the "umbilical arm" model! So if you saw those posts, that's why the textures are all messed up!

And here it is in all it's glory!

It's mostly made of ball joints with a flexible joint attached to the back. The last segment also twists just like your forearm bones!

Also..... lore shit below cause I have, plans™ so-

If you don't want to know why NSH is acting strange on my blog yet, read no further!

(there's also some downpour spoilers, and some other disturbing things)

*slaps top of can* This bad boy can fit so much fucking insanity in him. (cw: self-harm yeah you heard me)

If you haven't figured it out already (I did drop hints :) NSH's structure is damaged! His legs are giving out because a group of scavengers thought it would be funny to transport all of their explosives at once.

So he's in a bit of a pickle!

This is when Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles' communication tower is repaired! During their first conversation in a very long time, NSH finds out about good ol' Hunter long legs, and is rightfully distraught! He feels like a total failure, that he wasn't experienced enough to properly create his messenger.

That's what this whole post was about!

But, experience is something that can be gained.

NSH figured if Five Pebbles was able to leave his can, then he should be able to as well, but that requires solving the three problems I mentioned in the Five Rotten Pebbles post:

The self-genome modification barrier,

A general lack of puppet central brain matter, and

No material processing within the puppet.

I'll talk about my umbilical lore for this AU here since it's relevant.

Either the "cord" or the "arm" can be disconnected, but not both. This is for ease of repair by administrators. Disconnecting them both would leave the unfortunate Iterator fully functional. Although, they would be blind in the visible spectrum (apart from overseers), unable to speak directly to someone in their chamber, and would otherwise have their workflow be severely impaired. They would effectively be trapped in their own head.

NSH realised that even if the barriers existed, they could still have the intentions, to break them. So what would happen, if he broke one? Not by writing it out of his system, Five Pebbles already proved how risky that method was, but instead by setting his actions in motion faster than any barrier could stop them? This was something to test, and wasn't that what Iterators were built to do anyway?

Umbilicals can only be disconnected by administrators, but what if he were to do it anyway? He needed to leave his can after all, it wouldn't be much of a loss if he was stuck on the floor of his chamber or floating aimlessly in zero gravity for a while.....

So what if he just ran fast enough to rip himself off?

What if he moved his arm back at the last second, could he gain enough inertia to pull it out of his back? Even if it took a few tries?

What other choices does he have? Perfect Five Pebbles' method until he collapses and continue even then? He had time, but not enough for that, and The Hunter certainly did not have any time for waiting around. NSH had to fix his mistake, he had to.

So this bastard goes and does exactly that, and short-circuits his entire system.

Not just breaking the umbilical maintenance barrier, but every other one in the process.

And it all hurts like hell.

But that's the first problem solved, and now he can help keep himself afloat longer. So that now, he can figure out how to solve the other two problems with precision.

Of course, the others won't like any of these plans, but, after what Five Pebbles did, they wouldn't dare disturb him if he stopped responding, right?

And maybe, he could even hijack their communications array, to look for help.

>:]

yeah so NSH is not sane