#Oooo secret project...

[pernapernaperna]

I've been having a go at sugar paste flowers again (project in mind for future) and I managed to make some orchids! After much workshopping I'm pretty pleased with the results. And yeah I did break one

It took a Lot of fiddling to get the centre of the orchid looking right. I was also trying out some different colours and that green is Extremely Green.

[catboybiologist]

Still catching tgirl tummy Tuesday on Pacific time!!!

Sorry this isn't more elaborate today, I've been working on a secret project today. Post to follow once it's done, but here's a preview (human foot for scale):

Oooo spooky and scary and devious evil project

Tags

@lilithtransrights @xenasaur

@whalesharkcat @godless-of-the-hunt

@anarqueeen @shakukon-to @eruditegeek

@havingsecondthots @quinns-sinns

@puzzlecatt @sagasolejma

[babsvibes]

To see your fortune, keep reading. Thank you @drawthething for the perfect spooky cute graphic, and happy halloween!

The Jack-O’-Lentil Burger

Lemme see, gimme your hand, come on come on. Oh. Oh wooow, yeah I’m getting some big energy here. Huge. It’s saying… you want an ice cream sundae with lots of chocolate sauce and nuts on the side. Or wait, maybe I’m just hungry. Or wait! Maybe not. This could be a sign that you should look for the sweeter things in life. Do it on purpose! Say “I’m gonna be sweet to me” … no go on say it. “I’m gonna be sweet!” There you go, there they are. Hey maybe you can find a bunch of trick-or-treaters and swipe a candy or two, haha! Just kidding… To enjoy the sweeter things in life, reblog fanart you enjoy with something nice in the tags!

If Looks Could Kale Burger

And that’s when I tell Ginger “hey, who’s the one driving this mustard on wheels” and she goes- huh? Ohhh, right right, the fortune thing, right. You should, uh, avoid dark tunnels and also take an umbrella. For the dark tunnel. Wait no don’t go in the dark tunnel. Wait, let me see your hand again. To always have an umbrella if you need one or don’t, find one of your favorite posts and reblog it again!

Beets of Burden Burger

Oh! Ah, nuts. You, uh, might not like this one. You’re going to lose something soon. It's not the end of the world, but it’s not fun either. Like, oh, one time I lost Gene’s favorite nickel. That was a rough two weeks. He couldn’t even be bribed with special crackers! Sorry, hon. To find your lost item or Gene’s favorite nickel, spend three minutes with a project you’re working on!

Texas Chainsaw Mass-Curd Burger

Look at you, so pretty, such a lovely face. And your hands! Oh, I’d kill for these hands. Not that I would, no I wouldn’t… maaaybee :) Okay, let’s see. Oooo I love it, you’re going to get good news soon! Maybe from me because I won’t steal your hands? Probably not, but there is good news coming. Alriiight, good one! To keep Linda from stealing your hands, leave a comment on one of your favorite fanfics!

Rest in Peas Burger

Uhhn yuhh yuhh gagaga oo… I got it! You know that thing? You know, the thing? Yeah, I think a solution is coming your way. But you might not like it. What’s important is that you look on the sunny side, and there is a sunny side! That’s what I tell my Bobby all the time. He uh… he’s getting there with the whole cheery thing. Sorta. To enjoy a "Keep Your Sunny Side Up and Your Cloudy Side Down, Stay Positive, Bobby, Things Are Gonna Be Okay Burger,” spend three minutes with a project you’re working on!

Every Breath You Tikka Masala Burger

Come on, what do we got? Hmmm, oh yeah it’s coming to me. I’m seeing… three bats and a purple tophat. The bats can’t wear the tophat. It doesn’t fit their head. Oh god, they’re trying anyway. Don’t do that, little bats! You’ll get smooshed! N- oh, no, okay yeah they’re fine. And they’re so cute, awww dressed up in their hats, adorable. I think that’s a good thing? To… accept whatever that was, share a draft that you’re proud of!

Sympathy for the Deviled Egg Burger

You might need to give me a minute, my brain bucket feels busted. Tina’s got a spooky secret admirer, and we’ve been trying to figure out who it is all day. Being a fortune teller isn’t an easy job, but neither is being a mom! Haha! Noo I love it, I love it. Maybe your fortune should be thanking someone who has helped you grow? Hmm, I AM getting a strong sense of loyalty. Maybe check in on someone, and make sure to let them know how you’re doing too. To spread the love, send a kind ask to a blog you admire!

Onion-Tended Consequences Burgers

Oh my god! Is this blood on your hands?! Or is it… tch, it’s just a bit of ketchup, so silly! Are you a prankster or a murderer? You were just eating fries? Yeah okay, sure sure sweetie… um, your fortune is that sometimes people jump to conclusions. Sometimes even you. Take a second and remember most people are just being a little silly, not intentionally mean. And most people are definitely not going to tell their husbands they met a murderer today. To get away with any other alleged crimes, post a headcanon or find one you enjoy and share it!

Human Polenta-Pede Burger

Mmmmhhhmm mmm umuinimumunim. Oh no. Sweetie, I’m so sorry, but you’re going to get food stuck in your teeth. And it’s going to be green! And the waiter’s going to see! Oh this is horrible, maybe we can take your teeth out? No, no we can’t do that… To laugh it off with the waiter, spend three minutes with a project you’re working on!

I’ve Created a Muenster Burger

Now this is a juicy one! Did you do something a liiittle naughty? Something involving the letter M? Or J? Or B? Oh yeah, I can tell, but that’s okay! Everyone has a bit of a wild story they’re hiding. Like this one time, I turned my back on Louise when she was a baby for two seconds! Two! And the next thing I know, she had crawled on top of the fridge with a packet of Froo Froo Fruities snacks and refused to come down. Can you believe that? Ohhh, but she was fine. She doesn’t even remember the bump she took coming down, so it all turned out okay. You’ll turn out okay too, I promise. To lessen the swelling, recommend a fanwork to someone!

[charliedaltonswife]

could we maybe get a part two to “an education in loathing….?” the sizzling tension, the hatred, the quippy remarks OOOO i loved it. maybe the two get assigned as partners for a project (or something??? idk??) and a late night argument finally boils over into something smutty…if you feel comfortable writing that….

An Education in Loathing - Pt 2

Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)

soooo, went overboard with this one, high word count, um gets heated....

Summary: read the request

Warnings: far from none. S.M.U.T. do with that what you will

master list found here

You begged, as in got down on your knees and hands clutching together in prayer type begged, for anyone in the group to switch with you in this stupid project. But to no avail. 

You should have seen it coming. The way the universe seemed to take particular delight in your suffering, in orchestrating your life like a Greek tragedy, the fates snipping their shears with barely concealed amusement. Of course it had to be Henry.

Julian had announced the project with a kind of airy indifference, as if he weren’t about to ruin your entire semester. A “joint exploration of classical interpretations,” he had called it, pairing each of you off with someone to work through the assignment together. A “reward,” he had added, as if being shackled to Henry Winter for the foreseeable future was anything short of divine punishment.

Now, here you were, sitting across from him in the library’s dim back corner, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming urge to either strangle him or fling yourself dramatically out of the nearest window.

Henry, of course, looked perfectly unbothered. His long fingers turned a page of De Anima with excruciating slowness, his expression unreadable. The lamplight cast deep shadows across his face, sharpening the angles of his cheekbones, his jaw. He looked like some archaic statue came to life, some smug, superior deity sent to torment you.

“I suppose we should begin,” you said, barely keeping the venom from your voice.

Henry didn’t even glance up. “By all means.”

Your nails dug into the paper in front of you. “Well, seeing as you have no original thoughts of your own, why don’t you start by parroting whatever Julian has spoon-fed you on the subject?”

He made a quiet, amused sound, finally lifting his gaze. “Charming,” he murmured, setting the book down. “I see you’ve elected to be insufferable tonight.”

“You bring out the best in me.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let him see the way he got under your skin. If you let him have that, you’d already lost.

“We could always divide the work,” you said, feigning a pleasant tone. “That way, I don’t have to suffer through your droning monologues, and you don’t have to endure my… how did you put it last time? ‘Exhausting need to contradict everything you say’?”

Henry leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, utterly at ease. “No,” he said simply.

You blinked. “No?”

“I don’t trust you to do it properly.”

You let out a sharp breath of laughter. “Oh, I’m the one who can’t do it properly?”

“Yes.”

You wanted to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy. “And why, exactly, is that?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering. “You’re impulsive.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And you’re a condescending bastard, but we all have our flaws, don’t we?”

His mouth twitched. “The difference is that I’m right.”

“Oh, you are so-” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply through your nose. You refused to let him rile you up this early. You had to pace yourself. If you let the irritation take over now, you’d never survive the night.

Instead, you took a slow sip of your coffee, schooling your expression into one of disinterest. “Fine,” you said at last. “Since you’re clearly too much of a control freak to work separately, we’ll suffer through this together. But I swear to God, Henry, if you correct me one more time on things I already know-”

“You’ll what?” His voice was almost amused.

You leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into something slow and deliberate. “I’ll smother you in your sleep and burn all of your books.”

Henry regarded you for a moment, gaze flickering over your face, before he exhaled a quiet laugh. “It’s adorable that you think you could.”

You stared at him, and there was something taut in the air between you, something sharp and charged. You could feel it, a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge but both of you were utterly ensnared by.

Finally, you forced yourself to look away, reaching for your pen with more force than necessary. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Henry smirked, but he, too, returned to the task at hand.

-

The problem with Henry Winter, you had learned, was not simply that he was insufferable. It was that he was insufferable with such careful precision, such cruel artistry, that you sometimes suspected he did it on purpose, the way a cat will toy with a half-dead bird. That he liked needling you, watching the slow build of frustration, the way you burned under his gaze.

However, you found yourself in his apartment, not exactly what you’d expected; cold, austere, and far too tidy. Books lined the walls in obsessive, precise order, not a single one askew. A small fireplace, unlit, and the smell of something faintly metallic in the air, like old paper and ink.

You had known from the start this was a mistake.

“You could at least pretend to be a gracious host,” you muttered, dropping your bag onto the armchair nearest to the desk. “It wouldn’t kill you.”

Henry didn’t glance up from where he was pouring over a text, one hand idly at his temple. “I didn’t invite you here for pleasantries.”

You scoffed, taking a seat opposite him. “No, you invited me here because Julian gave us this absurd assignment, and unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t say it's unfortunate.” His voice was mild, but there was something in it, something you didn’t trust.

You ignored it. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He hummed, leaning back slightly. “You’re in a mood.”

“You put me in a mood,” you retorted, flipping open your notes. “Now, are we discussing the comparative mythology of Orpheus, or are we going to sit here and psychoanalyze my temperament?”

Henry exhaled sharply through his nose, his version of a laugh. “The former, obviously.” He turned a page. “Though your temperament is certainly interesting.”

You gave him a sharp look. “Don’t.”

He smirked, and you hated how he did it, so subtle, so knowing. Like he had already won. “As you wish.”

For a while, you managed to focus. Or at least, you tried to. But Henry had a way of getting under your skin, his presence coiling around your thoughts like smoke, making it impossible to concentrate. And of course, he was unbearable, correcting your phrasing, sighing pointedly whenever you said something he found lacking.

Eventually, the digs began. As they always did. Thank the lords the group wasn't present, although they found your banter amusing, often when it got too far they were the ones having to break you two up and sometimes being caught in the crossfire.  

“That’s not the primary interpretation of the myth,” Henry murmured, flipping a page, barely looking at you.

You grit your teeth. “It’s an interpretation.”

“A weak one.”

“Oh, I see. And you’re the sole arbiter of intellectual strength, is that it?”

Henry glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to.” You set your pen down with a sharp tap. “You think so.”

There was a pause. “You always assume the worst of me.”

You scoffed. “Because the worst is usually true.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think it, Henry. I know it.” You leaned forward. “You like feeling superior. It’s why you go after people the way you do, why you can’t just have a discussion, you have to dismantle. I’d almost admire it, if it weren’t so-” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Pathetic.”

For the first time that evening, his expression shifted.

And then, to your horror, he smiled.

Slowly, purposefully, he shut the book in front of him, his fingers resting lightly against the worn cover. “That’s an awfully emotional response for someone who claims not to care what I think.”

Your pulse quickened. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I don’t have to,” he said, voice low. “You do it for me.”

There was something wrong with the air in the room. It had thickened, become charged. You suddenly felt too warm.

Henry stood, moving past you toward the bookshelf, running his fingers idly over the spines of the texts, the firelight casting sharp shadows along his jaw. “You hate me,” he mused, his back still turned. “And yet here you are.”

“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s an assignment.”

He turned.

It was something in his posture, the slow way he leaned back against the shelf, arms crossed, head tilting slightly. The smirk that wasn’t quite a smirk.

“Of course,” he murmured. Something about the way he was watching you made your stomach tighten.

“Stop that,” you said, voice coming out sharper than you intended.

“Stop what?”

“Whatever this is. The-” You gestured vaguely. “You’re being weird.”

“You’re imagining things again, we’ve talked about this darling, you must stop doing that” Henry said smoothly, pushing off from the shelf. You looked forward, only hearing his steps approach you as he rounded the table to stand behind you. 

You meant to say something cutting, to brush him off, but then, his hand. Light. Barely touching the inside of your wrist as he moved to lean over you.

The contrast was startling. His words, his voice, the sharp precision of his arguments, and then, this.

It was like a game.

And worse, you were losing.

“Careful,” you murmured, echoing the warning you had given him before.

Henry, leaning so his lips were ever so close to your ear. “Am I making you nervous?”

You inhaled sharply, your eyes blinked a few times before you turned your head slightly to be eye to eye with him. You were so close it felt suffocating. “You wish.”

You suddenly pulled the chair out from under you, the back of it forcing Henry to step back. You quickly move to the middle of the room, facing him and strangely out of breath. You didn’t want the distance for a reason unbeknownst to you, but if you were that close to him anymore you were going to combust. 

He hummed, as he moved closer, boxing you in. Slowly, so you barely noticed it was happening. Until your back was nearly to the bookshelf, and Henry was in front of you, his presence filling every inch of space between you.

It wasn’t quite touching. But it was close.

“You like to think you know me,” he said, his voice lower now, almost conversational, like he was considering something carefully. His fingers skimmed the edge of your sleeve, so light you almost didn’t feel it. “But you don’t.”

You swallowed. “And you like to think you’re unknowable.”

Henry’s lips twitched, but his eyes darkened. “Maybe.”

There was something in the way he was looking at you, something electric, a live wire strung too tightly. Your pulse was an insistent, frantic thing against your ribs.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if it was a warning or an invitation.

Henry leaned in just slightly, the heat of him inches from your skin, his breath warm against your jaw.

“So are you.”

You should have left the moment you realized what he was doing. Should have made some scathing remark, put him in his place, turned on your heel and walked out. But instead, you stayed. And Henry knew it.

You could see it in the way his eyes gleamed, dark and knowing, in the small curve of his mouth that wasn’t quite a smirk but something worse, something more dangerous.

"You always run your mouth, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, almost amused, but there was something sharper beneath it, a blade hidden in silk. “So much conviction. So much certainty.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to push past him, but he didn’t move. He only shifted, subtly, deliberately, blocking your escape with the sort of ease that made you realize he’d been planning this, had anticipated every move, every reaction. Your back pressed against the bookshelf, the sharp corners of the wood digging into your shoulder blades. Henry leaned in.

"Tell me, do you ever stop talking long enough to listen?" he murmured, and his breath was warm against your ear, a stark contrast to the razor edge of his words.

You breathed hard, threw your nose, letting your chest rise and fall. "Get out of my way, Henry."

His hand lifted, light, barely there, trailing just along the side of your throat, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.

"You don’t want that," he whispered.

You did.

You did.

But he was so close now, his body a careful, practiced cage around yours. His cologne, something dark and expensive, filled your lungs.

“I think you like this.” His voice was a murmur now, a secret only for you. "I think you like fighting with me. Like how I make you feel.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re delusional.”

Henry exhaled a quiet laugh, tipping his head slightly, close enough that you could feel his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“You know what I think?” he whispered.

You refused to answer.

“I think,” he continued, voice silken, “that you like the way I get under your skin. I think you wake up in the middle of the night replaying our arguments, rehearsing all the things you should have said." His fingers drifted lower, a ghost of a touch along the inside of your wrist. "I think it keeps you up.”

Your heart was hammering against your ribs, your breath uneven. You didn’t answer, but Henry wasn’t expecting you to. He tilted his head, considering you.

“I wonder,” he mused, his fingers slipping down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the fabric of your sweater, "if you even hate me as much as you pretend to."

Your skin burned under his touch, and you gritted your teeth, furious, at him, at yourself, at the way your body betrayed you.

“Henry,” you said, a very empty warning, hating how unsteady your voice was.

He only leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours now, his breath warm, steady, unrushed.

"Why?" he murmured, his fingers tightening ever so slightly at your hip. “Afraid you’ll like it?”

Your nails dug into your palms. “You,”

Henry lifted a single brow, waiting.

You wanted to slap him or maybe you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kick yourself for wanting both. 

His fingers trailed up your spine, slow, deliberate. He pressed in closer, his body a whisper against yours, the heat of him making your knees weak.

And then, just as you thought he might close the distance, might press his lips to yours, might finally shatter whatever had been simmering between you for months, he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in, let his mouth hover just beside yours, and whispered,

“Say please.”

It was so condescending. You refused. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, wouldn’t feed his ego with whatever twisted game he was playing. You shook your head, not saying a word. 

But Henry was patient.

His lips hovered just beside yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, the maddening proximity of him. His fingers traced slow, idle patterns along your waist, barely touching, just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness.

"Nothing to say?" he murmured, voice low, teasing. "For once?"

You turned your head away, jaw tight, but he only laughed, a quiet, amused sound that made something coil hot and electric in your stomach.

Then, his hand caught your chin, turning your face back toward him. Not forceful. Not rough. But firm.

His thumb traced lightly over your bottom lip, the touch so featherlight it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I could make you beg,” he said, thoughtful, almost to himself. "If I wanted to."

Your breath caught. “Go to hell.”

Henry just hummed, nodding his head as to agree with your statement. "Ladies first."

And then, he dipped his head, his lips grazing along the line of your jaw. It wasn’t a kiss. Not really. Just a brush of warmth, a suggestion, as though he was testing you. As though he wanted to see how long you could last before you cracked.

“You hate me,” he mused, his mouth ghosting over your skin. “You hate this.”

Your fingers curled against his chest, gripping the soft, expensive fabric of his sweater like you weren’t sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. His lips moved lower, the curve of your throat, the sharp line of your collarbone, never quite touching, just enough to make you want to chase the feeling. And god, you hated that.

His hand slid lower, past your waist, tracing slow, teasing lines over your hip.

"Say please," he whispered again.

You swallowed hard. “Go fuck yourself.”

Henry sighed, like you were being particularly difficult, and then, he pressed his lips just beneath your ear, the faintest scrape of teeth against sensitive skin. Your breath hitched. His hands curled against your hips, pulling you just slightly, just barely, against him. And oh, you felt it then, how hard he was, how much he was enjoying this.

The realization sent something sharp and hot spiraling through you, a dangerous kind of thrill, a rush of power tangled with frustration and something else you weren’t ready to name. Henry leaned in, pressing his body flush against yours, caging you against the bookshelf.

And then, with a voice so low it was almost a growl, he murmured,

"I think you like being told what to do."

Your breath left you in a sharp exhale. Henry tilted his head, studying you, like he was savoring your reaction.

Slowly, maddeningly, he dragged his lips down the side of your throat, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just above your pulse. And before you know it, you let your desire overcome your body, you let it consume your movements and your thoughts. Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his shirt desperately to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it. 

You hated him. You thought you had. He thought you had too but he could feel how much you loved this in your own sick and twisted way, your hips pressing against his. 

He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he guides you to the desk with all of your work scattered on it. He moves to stand behind you, and slowly trails down your spine with his finger tips before pushing you down to lean against the desk. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself

“Henry,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him. He smiled down at you while sliding up your skirt.

“Say please.” He already knew what your answer would be. He knew you couldn’t do it. Not yet.

You shook your head side to side, pressing yourself back into his hands. “You’re insufferable,” you managed, voice breathless, unsteady.

Henry exhaled a quiet laugh.

"You’re trembling."

You hated that he was right.

Hated the way your body betrayed you, the way his voice sent a pulse of heat straight through you.

He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “Oh darling, let’s see where this hatred will take us.” 

He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties. You gritted your teeth, not wanting him to be awarded the pleasure of your moans, gripping the wood of the table to keep yourself shut when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle. 

“Such a shame,” he said, pausing his movement. “Letting your pride get in the way of your own pleasure. It’s not as noble as you want to believe.”

“You’re a pretentious, self righteous, piece of sh-” you cut yourself off with a whine as his hand came down onto your flesh again. 

“There we are,” he murmured, and in quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fabric pool around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest flush against the table. “So good for me now huh,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs. 

“Fuck you,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand.

You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly. He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, curling gently as you bit your lip, nearly drawing blood. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out. You let an annoyed whine escape your lips, feeling pathetic to let it slip. 

“Say it,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back.

“No.” You replied through gritted teeth, and before you knew it you felt him pushing into you. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your hips as he pounded into you. 

You screamed, your whole body locking up and then losing all control of itself, collapsing harder onto the shaking table. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook.

He was panting, the heat from the fire in the study made sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. You felt as if your soul had ascended, you were reaching for the sublime. You let out loud noises from your lips, letting the pleasure drip like honey, letting him grip your hips. You didn’t want to, but you needed to. 

“Please, Henry, please.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis. 

“I knew you could do it. Just had to fuck that attitude out of you, didn’t I.” Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled.

“Yes,” You moaned out, tears beginning to prick your eyes and threaten to fall onto your cheeks.

“How much do you want it?” Henry asked, almost politely, which almost made you laugh. If you didn’t feel like your body was being taken over, like pleasure was swimming through the veins of your body, making your heart pulse at a rate you didn't know was possible, you would have laughed. 

“So much, please Henry.” You were both so close, holding on to the brink of this worldly feeling. Then, it happened.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” It hit you, your whole body convulsing as it ripped through, and he was done for too. It flooded through you like golden light through cracked stained glass, something vast, something unbearable, an ecstasy so sharp it teetered on pain, leaving you trembling, hollowed out, and whole all at once. You were nothing but a vessel for it, a body undone by beauty, by longing, by the sheer ruinous joy of surrender.

Bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, again, were trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “All you needed to do was say please,” he murmured, throat tight with affection. 

“Such a jerk,” you muttered, amusement ringing through your tone so he could catch it. You chuckled before he moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.

The only sounds were the ragged edge of your breathing, the ticking of the antique clock on the far wall, and the faint rustle of Henry adjusting his sweater sleeves and you fixing your own clothes up.

You were slumped against the desk, fingers curled against the polished wood as if it might anchor you, keep you from unraveling entirely. Your skin was feverish, your body still humming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened.

Henry, infuriatingly composed, leaned back against the bookshelf, watching you. His lips were pink, his hair mussed in a way that betrayed his otherwise careful exterior. 

You tilted your head and smiled slightly, biting back its full capacity. “Don’t look so smug.”

“Why not?” His voice was languid, smug, so utterly him you could’ve throttled him. “I think I’ve earned it.”

You had to force yourself not to laugh. “You-”

Shifting closer, voice a murmur. “Would you rather I pretend it didn’t happen? That you didn’t enjoy it?”

You bristled, standing so abruptly your knees nearly buckled. Henry caught your wrist before you could move away, his fingers light but firm.

"Careful," he murmured, tilting his head. "I wouldn’t want you to fall."

Your pulse leapt.

“You’re staring,” you muttered, still breathless.

“So are you.”

You scowled, pushing yourself up, reaching for your coat draped over the chair. “Well, I’m leaving.”

Henry hummed. “Why?”

You hesitated, fingers curling in the fabric. And then, just as you turned toward the door, Henry caught your wrist, not forcefully, not teasingly, just… gently. A stark contrast to everything that had just transpired between you.

“Stay.” His voice was quieter now, none of the sharp edges from earlier, none of the arrogance. Just the simple weight of the word. You swallowed, suddenly unsure.

“We hate each other,” you reminded him, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Do we?”

Your heart pounded. He was still holding your wrist, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your pulse. It wasn’t calculated, wasn’t another move in whatever game the two of you had been playing for years.

It was just him, just you.

“I won’t ask again,” he murmured, eyes searching yours. “If you want to go, go.”

For a second, you thought about it, thought about leaving, pretending none of this had happened, continuing as if you still couldn’t stand the sight of him.

But then, instead of pulling away, your fingers curled around his.

You exhaled, shoulders sinking. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to walk back in the cold.”

Henry’s lips twitched. “Of course.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he laced your fingers together, you didn’t let go.

[contumacious-arcadia]

oooo ooooo OOOOOO!

What if Al was actually the original redeemed sinner and *that's* where he was for those 7 years? What if he actually did die again 7 yrs back but was appalled when he reincarnated in heaven and immediately started a campaign to be sent back? What if he accidentally redeemed himself by murdering all those other Overlords?

We can see just how abusive and sadistic Overlords can be towards the souls they own by looking at Val's character. If you contrast that with what we've seen in Husk/Nifty/Al's interactions, despite owning their souls and being a snarky little shit towards Husk (and scaring him a bit when he brings up Al's deal), Al never once actually hurts them and arguably provides them with a comfortable, relatively safe, and happy life in the hotel. These interactions are in present day, but we have been given no evidence to show that he ever treated them differently. On the contrary, when Al shows back up in the pilot, Husk immediately bitches at him when he is ordered to bartend - back-talking to his soul's owner with no hesitation and no fear. It stands to reason that he's comfortable doing so because Al's treatment of him has been the same since they made their deal.

In the context of hell, Al's rise to power seems to have had an accidental side effect of killing the super bad guys, saving sinners from an eternity of abuse and torture, and providing them with a much better contract. Like, *MUCH* better. No more rape, torture, druggings, mind control, etc... Al's obviously not a saint, but in this context, he may have been pretty close to hell's version of one.

If this is the case, Al obv would have *hated* being in heaven and likely immediately took it upon himself to attempt returning to hell BUT heaven obv wouldn't be cool with just letting him fall because they would *not* want hell finding out that redemption is possible. (Remember, in this scenario Al was redeemed 7 years prior to the show's pilot.) What if THAT's what his deal was? What if the deal was: either heaven just murders him on the spot -or- they allow him to fall back to hell in his original sinner form BUT ONLY if he agrees to have his angelic powers bound and is contractually sworn to silence about anything that happened during those 7 years?

This would work SO well. It would also answer a lot of questions about Al's character and actions. For example:

-Where was Al during those missing 7 years? Heaven. Likely imprisoned. -Who owns his soul? Again, heaven. Likely either Sera or an Archangel like Micheal. (I like the idea that it's Micheal, and that Mikey is Luci's twin, pouring more fuel on the fire on the immediate Al x Luci hate train.) -Why does Al state redemption is impossible as if it's a fact and not just an assumption? His deal forces him to keep redemption a secret so he is literally contract-bound to verbally disregard the idea. -Why does he still help the hotel then? Because he's pissed that heaven roped him into a deal WAY more favorable to them. Even though he can't outright state that redemption is possible, he can push Charlie's project along and hope she is the one who blows up heaven's big secret for him. It's revenge, baby! -Why does Zestial make comments about Al falling into "holy arms" when this is seemingly the first interaction between the two since Al's disappearance? Zestial suspects what happened. Maybe he witnessed Al's double-death 7 yrs ago, maybe he overheard some gossip from exorcists during an extermination, maybe something else. -Why doesn't Al use angelic weapons during his battle with Adam, especially since HE is the one who brought that knowledge to the hotel in the first place? He is overconfident because he too is actually a fallen angel, but he fails because his angelic powers are still bound. It is the pride ring after all. -Why does Al sing about "unclipping his wings" during his panic attack/loss to Adam? It's literal. He's pissed that he's been stripped of a massive boon to his power set and double-pissed that heaven seemingly has "beaten" him again. -Why does Al claim that he will be "pulling all the strings" once his wings have been unclipped? Because he is literally proof-positive redemption is possible and therefore, to his knowledge, would basically be a living weapon against heaven's authority. Remember, at this point no one is aware of Pentious' redemption.

I'm sure there's more! Anywho, my brain ran off on this tangent for some unknown reason. Al's just such a fun character to theorize about. Now, I don't believe this will actually happen in the show (it's probably a simple answer like "Lilith owns his soul, duh"), but we can dream! If any writers out there are looking for fic ideas and find my little rant interesting, PLS take this and run with it! I would LOVE to read something like this <3

[oh-no-its-bird]

Welcome to my silly Naruto side blog! I write fics on ao3 (mostly about Kakashi and Tobirama) and also like to rant about naruto au ideas and hc's on here! Sometimes I also post (usually stupid) art!

#birds fic talk <- Headcannons, fic ideas, all that stuff. Mostly Naruto but there's some Starwars buried in there

#birds rambles <- general chitter from me, might occasionally include fic related stuff anyways

#birds fanart <- fan art (it's literally all Naruto)

#birds ocs <- art and ocs by me that aren't actually fandom related

Specific fic and AU tags;

#chasing shadows <- stuff for my fic, 'Chasing Shadows', the one where kid Kakashi learns he's related to Tobirama a week after his father's death and projects to cope

#one step three steps <- stuff for my fic, 'One Step Forward, Three Steps Back', my really self-indulgent fic where an early Konoha Hatake brat time travels to modern Konoha and fucks stuff up with the power of decades old rumors, breaking and entering, and being a public safety hazard

#magical girl izuna <- for my magical girl Izuna AU, ft. tobiizu vibes, toxic yuri Kaguya and Amaterasu, and like 4 "seasons" of plot twists and lore

#Twins Itama and Tobirama <- My tag for Itama things and the secret Senju weed empire AU

#Tora Haruno AU <- Tobirama reincarnates as Sakura's big brother

#Uchiha Houhua <- Shang Qinghua reincarnates as Uchiha Izumi, the system breathing down his neck with expectations of him to die during the Uchiha massacre— Something he's going to try his very best to avoid

#Wolves of the Woods <- Hatake clan things, including lots of headcanons, timelines + traditions, and also ocs to fill the gaps in the warring states era. All canon compliant, with Kakashi having never been taught anything by Sakumo, who was similarly taught very little since the clan died when he was small

You can find a collection of literally every single one of my aus carefully sorted and put into order [HERE]

Note: pretty much any and all of my fic idea posts are free to use, just @ me if you do end up writing something based off it bc I'd love to see it

We have a discord server now! Oooo you wanna join sooo baddd

I also have a straw page where you can send me silly doodles and anonymous questions !!

Strawpage Collection [1]

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Wild Life Pearl POV Live Reaction

Ooooo super powers!!

Sick ass guitar riff!

SHE CAN LAUNCH SUPER HIGH IN THE AIR?? I do wonder if she would be taking fall damage. Not that I want to risk it.

Impulse can teleport? CLEO SUMMONS ZOMBIES!! SKIZZ AND MUMBO ARE BACK!!! BDUBS CAN SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT! BIGB GETS CREAKINGS?!?

Invisible Jimmy?

Scott can become random animals!!! Perfect for subterfuge :)

Ghoul 1 and Ghoul 2!

Oh I just realized Pearl can leap super high. And she has a mace. And she doesn’t take fall damage from it! Hell yeah.

Ooo I’m gonna watch Cleo’s pov after this to see what convo with mumbo and Skizz.

Speedy boy Tango! Ooo Etho and Pearl have the same power.

They were slain? And she can bring them back every five minutes? Ah beautiful necromancy. DID CLEO DIRECT THEM TO MAKE FUN OF GRIAN?? AHSIWHWJAKHSJA

Bdubs can slow time? Makes sense for clock boy lol.

So Gem can speak to the dead? NO SHE CAN ASTRAL PROJECT?? SO SHE CAN GO IN SPECTATOR MODE??

Oh we’re friends with Ren now? Beautiful. Just like Last Life.

RIP Scar.

“Gem, I know you’re looking at me” Jeez Louise Pearl. And she breaks her mace right after. A beautiful wet cat move. Those aspiring wet cats can truly learn from her.

Ooo Impulse can swap places with people.

GRIAN CAN BORROW POWERS?? Watcher ass activities. SHE CAN FLY?

Oh does Tango freeze water when he runs on it?

Trap time! And Tanguini is here! Wait that’s how calibrated skulk sensors work?

And another failed trap….. Pearl has failed to kill Gem again… my beautiful pathetic wet cat.

Love their beautiful cane tower now has cherries.

Cleo ordered them to go kill Grian! I somehow doubt this will succeed.

Ren CAN BE OTHER PEOPLES SKIN???

MUMBO GOT THE KILL! W FOR CLEO AND MUMBO IN MY BOOK!

Oooo Scott can choose a mob if he clicks on it!

I am shocked that BigB’s face remains unburnt down.

Ooo Bdubs killed by Scar.

I need fanart of Pearl’s cute hat. HOW DID SHE GET POISONED?

“I did tell you not to fix it. I said don’t bother man” Yes Pearl I know and the way you said it made me go actually insane.

SCOTT ACTUALLY GOT THE KILL ON GEM! GGGG WIN.

Cleo died to a creeper. GGGG loss.

“Hey! My eyes yellow! Can’t be stealing my eyeball”

“This is my skin from last season! You can’t *incomprehensible*!”

“I mean what’s hilarious is you’ve gone for different eyes. So you two have basically just shared contact lenses,”

“This is the eye I lost in the portal that you didn’t remember.”

“Oh sorry. Guess it wasn’t important enough to remember” DAMN PEARL IS GETTING SASSY WITH GEM TODAY LOL

Skizz wants to talk to Impulse privately?

Glad to hear that while Skizz struggles, Mumbo has been a great minion for Cleo. Cleo once again picks a favorite son.

“Minions are to be seen not heard” HAKAHWIANAB Scott I love you

Ooooh wait. That’s why Pearl said cockroaches. Because Skizz and Mumbo can’t die.

And the only thing it killed was Mumbo. GGGG loss.

JUST LISTEN TO PEARL THEY CANT RUN FROM END CRYSTALS!

YEAH THEY GOT REN! GGGG WIN!

Not Pearl pulling out the creeper eggs lol.

Oooo Martyn’s proxy chat is way turned up.

Bdubs on red! BDUBS SHOUTING AND CATCHPHRASE ANS MISSING LOL. Martyn on red! Scott on yellow!

Gem was getting boring because she wouldn’t stop complaining about how Scott and Impulse killed her? And how much better she is than their team? Guess Pearl can stop worrying about seeming obsessed lol. Seems the GGGG live in Gem’s mind rent free.

Oh never mind. The cockroach spoiler was about Tango! And how they keep failing to kill him because he’s so fast! That makes sense!

“They’re trying to get everyone off green and little do they know, you’re technically green as long as you use that, right?”

“Right, yeah,”

“A secret green. Like you got so much potential. I swear like, you better win the series, mate,” Where have I heard this before *flashbacks to Pearl and Bdubs in Secret Life*

“I’m trying Pearl.”

“You have a big advantage.”

“I’m trying but this whole lack of being able to kill people isn’t boding well for us is it?”

“No dude. I can’t believe how much I’m sucking this season. I suck so bad.” It’s okay your pathetic wet cat nature is charming.

“I cannot get a kill to save my life.” Yours too buddy.

Joel got hoppies!

Are we literally all meeting up to kill Tango? No wonder Pearl called him a cockroach.

Aaaaand Gem killed Mumbo.

This is actually super epic for tango. The whole server is failing to kill him!

GGGG has taken down Tango and Joel! Two wins!

Omg Jimmy tried to kill Pearl. Congrats to Jay for a single Pearl and Jimmy interaction where Pearl didn’t even see him. I’m sorry.

Cleo is scared of Gem and Pearl just isn’t lol.

“Oh that’s so weird to see me like that. Is that how annoying I look?” Ur not annoying :( your skin looks really cool.

Tango on red!

Pearl! That’s somehow significantly nastier than calling them eyes.

BYE BYE MARTYN!

Oh no Pearl and Scott :( WAIT HI SCARLET PEARL!!! HI!!! HI!!

She commented on the red hoodie! She noticed their skins match!

Ren joined them? We have… six Gs at this point?

End of session! I see why Martyn was being super cryptic when someone asked how the session went. I think next session will probably be the last given how much of the server is on red, and that’s there’s no greens left to get lives back. Unless you count Impulse, I guess.

My final thoughts on the wild card are that it’s super fun! I love that they all got their own unique power, especially because some of the powers seem to be themed to them specifically like Cleo’s zombies and Bdubs having time manipulation!

[kisoran]

oooo... you want to make a neocities site soooo badddd....

If you like to ramble, hoard cool graphics, create art, blog, write essays about your current interests, virtual pets, and having 100% control over your space online, make a neocities site!

If you need to get off your phone, if you hate social media algorithms and the centralized web... Make a Neocities site!

Don't know where to start? There are countless tutorials online and other neocities sites to take inspiration from. Plus, I give you permission to steal my site layouts (Right click, "inspect" for firefox to view the code needed)

Also consider checking out the MelonLand Project, which contains info about web revival and bringing humanity and connection back to the web. I encourage you to take an interest in other people's sites and works and interact with them! There's so much cool stuff out there!

Devote your site to one single topic! Or put everything you love in the same place, all on your site! Make cute buttons for yourself! Make secret pages for your friends to find! Share your music, your art, your OCs, your writing! You can literally do anything you want!

[thepenultimateword]

Hi I don’t really see this trope often, so could u do prompts for reformed villain x hero? But it’s totally fine if not

Oooo yes!

1. A reformed villain is partnered with the agency’s golden hero, making them feel terribly inadequate. What they don’t know is that Hero was also once a villain years ago.

2. Hero does not trust this supposed ex-villain. You can’t just wake up and decide you’re not bad anymore and act like nothing ever happened. But the villain’s surrender is very good for the agency so they are putting a lot of pressure on Hero to show ex-villain the ropes and make it work.

3. After Villain reforms and joins the Hero’s team they are constantly bombarded by the press. And not all of it is nice. Hero notices the way Villain panics at the pressing crowds, cameras, and microphones, so they set out to protect them from the attention.

4. Villain did something horrible to Hero when they were nemeses, but now that the criminal has reformed and joined their team. Villain, wanting to be on good terms with his new teammates, makes several attempts at getting close to Hero but finds Hero constantly pushing them away. Villain wonders how they can show Hero they’ve really changed.

5. Villain is riddled with nightmares from their criminal years. Since the hero team shares a dorm apartment, Hero overhears them crying out in the night and feels compelled to comfort them.

6. Villain and Hero dated briefly when they were nemeses, but ultimately split because their beliefs were too different. Now Villain, newly reformed, is on Hero’s team and neither can keep back the bitter jabs. Worse, they realize still have feelings for each other, though neither is willing to admit it to the other. It’s probably much too late anyway.

7. Hero helps Villain reform and thus feels responsible for them. None of the other heroes trust Villain, but Hero volunteers to mentor them through their first year until they get the hang of things. They also always makes sure to include them in get-togethers and parties with the others. It’s nice, but Villain can’t help but start feeling like a project.

8. Villain reforms right as Hero defects to villainy; now that their roles have flipped they begin to see new sides to each other and their dynamic, and it’s all very weird.

9. Villain may be reformed but they’re still going to do good their way. This is very aggravating for the straight laced hero they’re partnered with.

10. Leader was dating Villain in secret before they reformed. Now that Villain is on the team, they’re excited to finally be able to date publicly. However, Leader keeps rebuffing their affections and acting like there’s nothing between them. It turns out Leader is still afraid of what the team will think if they find out, especially when they’re supposed to be an example.

11. An absolutely feral villain is “adopted” (into the agency) by a sunshiny hero.

12. Hero has never been good at making friends and they’ve always been apart from the other heroes. But when a new hero, a reformed villain, joins the team, they finally start to make a friend.

[jokerlennon]

should put it on here too oooo you want to read my secret santa gift for @grapefruiters so bad. come to time loop world

[tincansamurai]

oh i forgot to cross post this from pillowfort

bweird oc-tober 3: old oc

ok so this one asks who your oldest oc is which is a question i feel is kinda up for interpretation. if it's oldest that i still do anything with, easy, it's matsuo - est. 2009 baybee. (I LOOKED IT UP IT'S 2008 ACTUALLY WOW) if it's oldest just generally... then the first one i can actually remember giving a shit about is ezzelynn. 

she was my first oc made with like real intent. i honestly can't think of an oc before her, though there must have been some. it was 2005/2006 and i was in 7th grade - i joined my first play by post on a warrior cats forum, in a subforum for other pbps. this one was a vampire one my bff in middle school was starting, with a guy our age from across the country. this would turn into a fiction project that took over the next 3-4 years of our lives, until eventually we reached the age where we could see how bad it was and wanted to rewrite it. which of course was impossible lol. so the whole thing fizzled out. me and the guy had a tooooonnn of other little pbp stories, and i still think about ocs from some of those. mat was from one i had with that bff.

lil art evolution timeline for you there. middle school to like sophomore yr hs

anyway ezzelynn is a half vampire with tan skin and purple eyes who is quirky and fun and cute and kind and my guy friend's oc nigel/casimir fell in love with her but she died tragically before they could be anything, even though she had JUST gotten over the trauma of her fiance getting eaten by a big fish (that was so fucking stupid lol i really couldn't come up with a better tragic death than that??) (i think we were both scared of writing actual romance, and also were not into each other and afraid it would seem like we were lol) she used a scythe attached to a chain as a weapon, which is nothing lol. her sister was my bff's oc, and they lived in the woods in hiding bc there are vampire hunters who kill half vampires, nigel/casimir being one of them (despite being a secret half vampire himself!! oooo!!!). shit got crazy from there, i honestly can't remember it. of course we had to save the world from evil vampires as the good vampires, as you do

she's from a fun time in my life where i built the foundation for a lot of the skills i have today so i do look at her fondly, but she is very very very "i'm a lonely 13 yr old girl projecting a character everyone would be friends with and love because she's soooo nice and cool and unique". tbf, we did all love her

[shrinkthisviolet]

Oooo I’d love some background info on i hate (what i’ve become) (or anything else you want to say about it) because I am OBSESSED with that fic (the ANGSTTTTTTT)

OOOOOH I will certainly try to give what background I can!

Admittedly that's one I wrote on a whim without a ton of context behind it, and it's not situated at a specific point in s3 because...for obvious reasons, it's very canon-divergent in many ways, and even I don't know the full details of how 😅 but what I can do is expand on the Saveddie/Thallen dynamic in this fic (and it turns out I have a lot to say about them lol so see below the cut for my rambling thoughts):

Eddie is revived from the dead! This isn't really a secret in the fic ofc—Eddie refers readily to his death as an event that did happen (“Is that why you didn't bother to remember me?” Eddie’s eyes flashed. “Why you were so fixated on Iris the moment I died—why you held back on moving on because she’s not Iris, I guess?”), and Savitar also references it as his own doing (“Didn’t you wonder who brought Eddie back, Barry? Surely you must’ve had your theories.” Savitar smirked. “Did you suspect for even one second that it was actually a version of you? A better version, who isn’t such a spineless coward?”)

Also, you may wonder, what's Savitar's deal? Does he really love Eddie? Is he just using him? The answer is...both! The framing for this fic is that if Eddie hadn't died, Barry might've been brave enough to confess to him, and Westhallen perhaps would've happened...but alas, he did die, and Barry's feelings remained unresolved and screaming in his heart. And ofc...when Savitar is born, he's Barry, so those feelings are screaming in his heart too. He has two goals: a) pretend to kill Iris and preserve his existence, but secretly steal her away/revive her for himself*...and b) revive Eddie so he can finally act on those feelings he never even confessed (oh Savitar...someone must've slept through reading Great Gatsby in English class, or you'd know better!). And since he hops back and forth in time, between the past and the future...he knows that Eddie has the potential for great power as Cobalt Blue, could've taken up the mantle if he hadn't died.

So he revives Eddie and begins seducing him, telling him all about Westallen and painting Barry in the worst possible light (he still has a soft spot for Iris, so he doesn't say as much bad about her—remember, he wants to force Westhallen into existence, wants both Eddie and Iris by his side, so he won't badmouth the love of his life. He will badmouth Barry plenty though—you know how in s9, Eddie's furious at Barry for "stealing" his fiancée? Here, that's something Savitar plants in his head.

Unlike s9 though, Eddie isn't corrupted by an external cosmic force, and he loves Barry and Iris, so he pushes back on this. But Savitar knows exactly how to play on his heartstrings...and pouring in some sympathy for himself gets Eddie on his side (a version of Barry who's thrown away/disregarded by the entire Team after Iris dies? Who's mistreated even by Barry himself? Eddie's furious at the thought). Savitar, also, is not nearly as shy as Barry was, confessing his feelings readily...and acting on them, much to Eddie's giddy delight (his own description) and Savitar's smugness.

Things sour after a while, though. Savitar's possessiveness is far removed from Barry's selfless love, and Eddie notices. He also, however, notices how ruthless Savitar is in defense of what he wants...and figures out very quickly that if he pushes too much, he pisses Savitar off—and Eddie's not so keen to piss off another evil speedster. Though Savitar also complicates this because when he picks up on Eddie's fear, he tones down the aggression and acts more like the sweet, gentle Barry Eddie loved. So on the one hand, Eddie wants to leave, find his way to Team Flash and beg for their help...but on the other, he doesn't want to piss off Savitar, he still has love and sympathy for Savitar due to his similarities to Barry...and he still remembers what Savitar told him about Team Flash mistreating him in the future (when Eddie's particularly doubtful, Savitar reminds him about this, playing up his sympathetic backstory...and ofc it works, keeping those doubts at bay)

Seeing Barry again, though? That opens a floodgate that Eddie is hard-pressed to close again. Seeing the real Barry, desperate and pleading and hopeful—Eddie wants to take his hand and ride into the sunset with him...and with Iris too, when Barry brings her up. But Savitar's ironclad grip on him (literal as well as figurative) presents an obstacle. Even if Eddie wanted to leave (which he does, he realizes as he looks into Barry's eyes, he really, really does), he fears what Savitar might do if Eddie shows too much willingness to leave—maybe not to him, but to Barry. Eddie's seen an evil speedster try to kill Barry before...and although Savitar can't kill Barry, he could still do plenty else. He's a man out of time, older than Barry by 7 years and centuries too...that's terrifying. Eddie doesn't even have a gun, let alone powers (after all, as Savitar told him, what would Eddie need a gun for, when his significant other is the most powerful being in the multiverse?)

But ofc Eddie can't let on. So he keeps the mask up, he's cold to Barry...he convinces Barry he's a lost cause, even as his heart is screaming at him to go after Barry, screw the consequences. But he can't say "screw the consequences", he can't risk harm to Barry, so he keeps up the act and tries not to shed tears about it.

Savitar is delighted about this, of course...but Eddie still has doubts. Minor doubts, of course—Savitar can airbrush over those with more manipulation, and he does (“All Bivolo does,” Savitar said with a sigh, “is amplify feelings that already exist. Barry did love you—otherwise I wouldn’t—but more than that, he hated you all along. He only needed a little push to show you exactly how he felt.” He smiled. “Not unlike you and me...though I’d say that turned out much better for us.”)

And then...Savitar gives Eddie something as a reward (or rather, he promises to): a way to defend himself. The implication, ofc, being that he's going to turn Eddie into Cobalt Blue.

*this never comes up in the oneshot, but it's implicit in almost everything Savitar-related I write, and it's my headcanon for him

[strangestcase]

why do adaptations or even fandoms project the DID system to Jekyll when he never had it in the book?

DID was discovered shortly after the book was published and of course it being the Victorian era and the Gothic Double as-an-alternate-identity archetype being particularly popular in the late Gothic tradition, due to changing paradigms of mental health and spiritualism, the Victorians fetishized the shit out of the disorder and of course some tried to force that reading into the book. I say some because oddly enough it really didn't kick off, since people found the book as-is much more appealing.

Still, Stevenson got letters suggesting he gave Hyde "realistic" symptoms (unique handwriting, amnesia, etc) and somewhat chastising him for "getting the disorder wrong". Stevenson rejected that reading and corrected the letters, commenting that he hadn't even heard of the disorder beforehand, and that he had rather based Hyde off the then-buddying theory of the subconscious (which would be later developed by Jung and Freud).

As it seems, making Jekyll a system (and I don't mean it in a benevolent lets-put-decent-plural-rep-in-this-book way, I mean it in a wow-scary-disorder-so-terrifying-and-exotic way) is a relatively (?) recent choice. Most adaptations that I know of either don't follow that reading or at least keep it ambiguous enough to let Jekyll and Hyde be its own thing without necessarily drawing any solid parallels to real life disorders- maybe except addiction, but that's a given. Versions of the character that boldly lean in into those specific ableist tropes (not ableist tropes in general, since Hyde is almost inseparable from Scary Autism Is Scary tropes; more on that later) tend to be more "modern" and fall into one of these camps:

-read the book, but wants to be 3edgy5me about it and in too many people's minds "edgy" means "has the scaryweird disorder oooo"

-read the book, doesn't give a shit about being offensive or not because MY plot is BETTER !!!!

-didn't read the book (and you can tell) and is doing this out of pure ignorance (of everything. in general)

-didn't read the book and wants to be 3edgy5me and you know what this person should just make ocs or something

-secret fifth thing: this isn't about jekyll and hyde. this is about the idea of jekyll and hyde and it's going to be incredibly stupid (definitely the most bearable one, usually isn't malevolent, but it has to be done right)

I don't know what adaptation got the ball rolling (if it was only one) but I suppose the problem lies in the average layperson not knowing a Gothic Double (fictional archetype! interesting! fun!) from a honest to god real life somatic disorder that exists in real life and affects real people and of course some people writing the former as the latter and/or viceversa. It's like, God forbid a fictional character dissasociates, or has some saucy identity shit going on, lest a neurotypical writer thinks they're sooooooo smart and have them all figured out! (Because it's not just Jekyll who gets blasted with the Yeah I Don't Know How Plurality Works What Of It ray, let's be honest.) (Coughs Jonathan Crane coughs)

[amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet]

For the emoji oc ask game :]

🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it? -- For MoaH Zelda

🌱 - Share one of this oc’s early memories. -- For Endeavor

📓 - Do you associate any quotes or lyrics with this oc? -- For any

Oooo! Thank ya @doubtfulloser for the ask! A good selection too!

🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it? -- For MoaH Zelda

She would probably spend the day reading. Or honestly, experimenting. There are a dozen and one projects Zelda has on hold because she's constantly swamped with politics, given a free day, she'd want to get back to exploring the limits of arcanum, as well as her own capabilities.

🌱 - Share one of this oc’s early memories. -- For Endeavor

One of Endeavor's earliest memories is going to be something to do with the Soul Temple and their moms. They probably remember playing hide and seek back when the temple was better preserved by the Soul Sage. Endeavor's moms were divided between the Soul Temple and the Temple of Secrets due to their respective mantles, so the times when they were able to all be together were few and far between. Endeavor has particular memories of a work place nursery made for them and a mobile that remained long after they outgrew it.

📓 - Do you associate any quotes or lyrics with this oc? -- For any

Oh man, so many. I've done a few before, so picking a new one, hm. I'll keep it short cause I need to finish editing tonight, but from All Eyes On You by Smash Into Pieces for MoaH Link:

Do or die, you're a mercenary One of a kind, that's your burden to carry Go and make them proud, do what's necessary

I mean really the whole song, but you know. We can't be here all day. Thank you again for the ask!

[twothpaste]

Giegue/giygas for the ask game, maybe?

First impression: I learned about Giygas through internet osmosis long before I even thought to play EarthBound. All the usual "ooooh this game is secretly sooo dark" and "he's ack-chewally an aborted fetus, see, oooo" kinda shit. I remember it giving me the impression Mother was way scarier and edgier than it turned out to be. (I played games like OFF and Yume Nikki first though. So by the time I got around to Mother, it was very refreshing to play somethin bright & uplifting at its core, lmao.) (In retrospect, I kinda wish Giygas wasn't among the first things every prospective player is told about the EarthBound. Going into the Giygas battle blind seems like it would've rearranged my brain molecules, and I wish I'd gotten to experience it like that.) I forget when exactly I learned about Giegue (I didn't get to play M1 blind either), but I'm pretty sure my first impression was honestly pretty neutral? The imposing presence of a huge alien spaceship, 8-bit sci-fi machinery, and a barely legible creature in a capsule was pretty wicked to see for myself the first time though!

Impression now: Giygas is a big triple decker chocolate layer cake worth of metaphor & symbolism. The existential horror of growing up, the fear of losing who you fundamentally are in the process, the horrific inhumanity adults are capable of, the hopelessness of coming to terms with the world as it is, and so on. Not really a character per se, but the quintessential globular slurry of adolescent angst Ness & pals've gotta contend with. Giegue is a bittersweet little story about a broken family. An internal conflict between vengeance, familial love, and maybe where one's obligations lie? Cool antagonist for sure. I wanna like him more than I do (M1's cryptic hands-off approach to storytelling is hard for me to sink my teeth into 😔). I've speculatively written (and drawn a comic for the upcoming zine 😉) about how Giegue became Giygas, and read some good fics on the topic. In the canon we're given, though? There's really so little binding them together narratively or thematically… I have a difficult time reconciling the two, in the context of the games themselves. Mother 2 in general feels more like a reboot than a sequel - and there's hardly if any "lore" weaving Giegue & Giygas together - so Itoi's choice to declare they're one and the same just seems kinda odd to me. C'est la vie. Fan creators make do.

Favorite moment: The Giygas battle, but like, before he goes sicko mode. When he's bound to a chamber of wires and innards, reflecting Ness' face back at him, and it turns out our fervently raving buddy Porky is actually the one in "control". The atmosphere is so intense and unnerving, such a bizarre yet captivating way to ramp things up. There's like, this sense of stomach-churning dread, as you begin - if only scarcely - to realize the alien overlord you were expecting is an entity far more powerful and personal and helpless and incomprehensible than you ever could've imagined. I mean. You know, because the internet spoiled you when you were 11. But in the bigness of the moment it still makes my mitochondria itch on a primal and cellular level. /pos. Love it.

Idea for a story: My favorite Giegue thing is the vague implication (??) of whatever the hell George did to to him. Y'know, whatever made him hate humanity so much. Whenever I see fan content speculating on how George might've experimented on him or mistreated him I do in fact Feel Somethin' There. (I have been a sucker for angsty-creature-in-a-lab stories from the time I saw Mewtwo Strikes Back in kindergarten all the way to Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3 a couple months ago, and I don't suppose I'll ever be sick of 'em.) The conflict it introduces between George and Maria is intriguing too. Like, her husband's treating her dearly beloved child like a science project? Trying to extract the secrets of PSI from his oversized alien brain?? You know if this kinda shit went down, those two were on a caliber of divorce drama the world has rarely seen.

Unpopular opinion: I really like Giegue design interpretations that're freaky and grotesque and biologically unfamiliar. When the beast isn't just mammalian in nature. Truly out of this world.

Favorite relationship: A mean-spirited but otherwise ordinary 13-year-old willingly aligned himself with the alien emodiment of all things evil. And the alien embodiment of all things evil willingly let the kid be his right-hand man. And I'm normal about it. EarthBound tells us basically nothing about how Porky n' Giygas' partnership in crime came to be, but speculating about it sends me into a shark frenzy. Porky seeking power over the world that wronged him, at literally any cost. Giygas weaponizing a child's worst, most vengeful impulses. Porky ultimately usurping Giygas, at least in terms of agency. Witnessing the absolute horror his "master" becomes, and simply sidestepping out of the universe itself to dodge the mess he brought about. I like to imagine there was a period where Giygas was still cognizant enough to maintain a rapport with Porky - and that the two of them fucking hated each other. Both of 'em using the other as a means to an end, assured in the conviction they're the one with the upper hand. And they're kind of both wrong. Bloaw up da worl.

Favorite headcanon: Giegue/Giygas speaks (telepathically?) with a rural midwestern accent. Courtesy of the fine folks who raised him. Other aliens probably think it's weird and mondo cringe, but are too intimidated to say so.

[bonesandthebees]

Internship is certainly going. I want to say going okay… I could be doing better but I kinda got unlucky with my internship spot and workload. This would be much easier to explain if I could just say what kinda of internship it is, but that kinda feels like too much details both for my current degree and the job I’ll be doing after. (Internet safety and all that). Anyway, what I can say is that anyone in the field irl pulls a face when they hear about my internship. The workload feels impossible, but somehow I’m doing it and I’m about half way through so *aggressively knocks on wood* it should be fine.

I do have a different internship in like a month or so and some other projects but those feel like child’s play compared to the current hell incarnate. So moral of the story: sometimes you just get to have a few mental breakdowns, pick yourself back up and go again the next day (again and again and again and again). It’s like that quote: [“It gets a little bit easier every day, but you have to keep doing it.”] or what’s the other one? [the only way out is through]. And then take plenty of breaks and do fun things even if it feels like you don’t have the time because that’s the only thing that’ll keep you going. The world is always more manageable after a good meal or a power nam or a 15 minute music break.

I’ve been blasting a lot of music based on moods, getting back into Dutch music because girl, I need to learn how to spell properly and every internship I have a song that gets me through. This one it’s ‘secret for the mad’ by Dodie. I’ve had to loop it over and over to get the motivation to try at times, to really let the words sink in, but it helps. So find a song to get you through when you need it.

Lastly, I’ve been meaning to say something about Him, but I just haven’t had the time and energy to write something coherent (aka I’m not using my 30 minutes of evening downtime that are just for me for this negative energy). Best thing is can say is that this is a good opportunity to get into new creators. Just have fun with it (hermitcraft season 10 has been getting be through this). Listen to new music. Try new things to fill the void. I’ve pruned all my playlists and social media follows and such and it felt like a fresh start. (Oh and learned your red flags people. People who don’t respect your boundaries (no matter how small) can be(come) very dangerous.)

My only issue now is that I can play since I saw Vienna and La Jolla on guitar (the picking patterns always smooth me), but now I’m not sure if I can keep doing that. I haven’t tried playing them. I feel like I should look at the lyrics first then decide. But I haven’t found any picking songs with the same soothing vibe, so I’ve been playing a bunch of my classical pieces and I really like playing the ‘romantic’ ones and for some reason the polkas and the blues? So again filling the void.

Anyway, thanks for all the well wishes. I’ve been missing you guys. This has been chaotic life updates with Spruce. I really need to start being productive now. So, bye!

-🌲

yeah of course don't say any details that would reveal too much info about you, but man that sounds stressful :( at least you'll switch to something else in a month?? I'm so sorry you're stuck in hell rn I hope you get through it alright!! make sure to take it easy when you can!! you're so right the world is so much easier to deal with after a power nap or a snack

oooo I haven't heard secret for the mad in a long time but I used to listen to dodie from time to time. I used to think of such angsty scenarios with my ships while listening to 'sick of losing soulmates'

also it's so real to have a song to help you get through shit like that. I'd say rn for me one of those songs is all american bitch by olivia rodrigo because I just have a lot of fun screaming it in the car. tested waters by loupe is a calmer one I've been listening to on repeat lately

you're right this is a great opportunity to get into new creators. I was already drifting to watching qsmp creators more often besides just phil and tubbo, but now I've been trying to tune into bagi and tina's streams if I have the time

definitely look at the lyrics first, but I feel like out of most of the ycgma songs since I saw vienna and la jolla are two of the 'safest' options you could pick for something like that. at least compared to your sister was right and losing face...

la jolla and since i saw vienna are both such pretty songs though. there's nothing wrong with playing those on your own guitar I'd say? it's not giving any money to him. but of course it's up to your own personal comfort.

good luck spruce!!! ty for checking in we all miss you over here!! <33