#Señor Soul

[tfc2211]

01 - Frank Zappa - Hot Poop (intro) (from 'We're Only In It For The Money', 1968) 02 - Señor Soul - The Mouse (from 'It's Your Thing' 1969 / Double Shot & Whiz - available on 'What It Is Y'all' / BGP) 03 - Rasputin's Stash - Hit It & Pass It (from 'The Devil Made Me Do It' 1974 / Gemigo - reissued in 2000 / Sequel) 04 - The Vibrations - The Man (from 'The Vibrations' Lp, 1972 / Mandala) 05 - Calypso Kings & The Soul Investigators - Compin' & Smokin' (from 'Compin' & Smokin'/Damper Down Popcorn' 7inch, 1999 / Soul Fire) 06 - The Coasters - Soul Pad (from 'Soul Pad' 7inch, 1967 / Date) 07 - The Masters - Party Time (from 'Funk spectrum - Compiled by Josh Davis and Keb Darge' 1999 / BBE) 08 - Organization - Smokey Feeling (from 'Creative Sounds of the Organization' 1974 / Wirl - available on 'Trippin' 1996 / Luv'N'Haight 09 - Sixto Rodriguez - Sugarman (from 'David Holmes presents Come & Get It U Got it', 2002 / 13 Amp) 10 - Willard Burton & The Pacifiers - Warm The Pot ('Til It's Good & Hot) (from 'Warm The Pot ('Til It's Good & Hot)' 7-inch, 1976 / Money - available on 'Superfunk 2' 2001 / BGP) 11 - The Politicians - Everything Good Is Bad (from 'The Politicians featuring McKinley Jackson' 1972 / Hot Wax)

Info : Selected and mixed by Mister Moo (T.I.M.E.C.) Artwork by Djouls, Stashboxes photos by Mister Moo

[soulmusicsongs]

Mucho Funky - Señor Soul (Double Shot Records, 1968)

[onepiece-polls]

Ugly Outfits Tournament - Round 3 Side C

Propaganda under the cut.

Cracker: His hair looks like a donger and he has cookies hanging off his pants. Genuinely what even. The only slightly redeemable part of his outfit is the cape.

Brook: Aside from the fact that all of those colors clash, the striped pants with a polka dot shirt is a choice.

Señor Pink:

Do I really need to say anything? Mans is wearing a bonnet, diaper, and binky and he's not even doing it for kinky reasons. The worst part is that his outfit is tied directly to his tragic backstory and that its an actually good reason.

I don't care how tragic his backstory is, this guy looks like he needs a restraining order.

[nani-nonny]

*ugly cries*

I may be doing this for myself but honestly this is so motivating <3333333

Maybe I’ll spoil a little bit of WDS Señor Hueso and F!Leo

Señor Hueso looks over his shoulder at Leonardo and says, “Although, you are much more helpful this way. I can’t count the number of times Pepino took so long to help me out. And yet he always comes to me when he needs help. It’s always something with that boy, ¡Ayudame, Señor Hueso! Mis hermanos this, mis hermanos that. —Do you remember breaking my miniature ship model by stuffing it into a briefcase?”

Leonardo smiles as he watches Hueso grab a menu from the host stand and guides a new set of customers to a booth.

And this too because @middlechildkin inspired me

A soft swirl of the bottle then it’s handed to Leonardo who stares at it for a few seconds.

“Tómalo, tortuga,” Señor Hueso urges as he shakes the bottle slightly.

Leonardo takes the bottle and watches the bone man prepare a second before it’s raised towards him. He raises his bottle with Señor Hueso who taps their bottles together with a soft clink.

“Salud,” Señor Hueso says softly before taking a sip.

“Salud,” Leonardo repeats and follows suit.

I’m really digging into my memories searching for those times I had 3AM drinks in the backyard with my cousins and abuela, funnily enough she was called Big Mama too, and sharing a few modelos just like Hueso and f!leo… nice to think about :)

I’d like to have another night like that some day, just a few drinks and having deep talks with Spanish music playing in the background. I remember singing along to Cielito Lindo with my abuela and my older cousin crying over the song because he was wasted.

Lol maybe I’ve shared too much :))) I’m just feeling sentimental

[sheila--e]

more fma v.a madness because I've been regressing to my 13 year old ways I'm sorry 😞 Diabubu would be the (completely anonymous) Fuhrer of. Idk ig it's still Amestris. Italian Amestris. but I also think he would be a mix of Bradley/Wrath - Father. He's not a homunculus but maybe he's a Philosophers Stone, sort of like Hohenheim.. like, In my head he didn't burn down his village, but instead turn a lot of people (not everyone, like Donny had to survive one way or another) into a Philosophers Stone. No one was truly aware of what happened, because of a mix of most survivors not being alchemically sound enough to realize what happened, and an erasure of evidence.

I'm not sure about the "separating parts of himself into homunculus" thing because like, that's exactly the opposite of what Diavolo wants lol (any connections to himself, like, Father only made homunculus because he wanted connections and family.) but I think he would keep the "I have to separate these "sinful" parts of myself to finally be able to become enlightened and Achieve The Truth." thing he had going on... I'm not sure if Doppio would have any military rank or even be in the military in the first place.. Much to think about

[vidals-harkness]

ok hear me out…R is Agatha’s daughter…Nick’s (younger) twin sister. Growing up she helped her mother try to find the darkhold so they could bring Nick back but after failing and seeing what it was doing to agatha she placed a protection spell on herself and ran so her mother couldn’t find her.

She ends up dating Alice after meeting at one of Lorna’s concerts and Lorna taking her in and helping her expand her powers, they got closer and eventually started dating. But have an on/off relationship after Lorna dies…

She only sees agatha again when she gets a call from Alice’s boss- cuz as her ex gfs ‘parol officer’ she obviously gets notified by these things- and goes to pick her up, only to see her mother waiting for her and Alice when they leave the store and Alice is rambling and explaining that it wasn’t her fault…

POV: the black heart actually was for R because while helping agatha try and get nick back something happened to her (and this is the part where you make up something cool like she had to trade half her heart with his dead one but the dark magic used consumed hers instead and she uses so many names that lilia couldn’t just see one name but a bunch of different ones all being carved into a black heart)

fly away, little bird (agatha harkness)

summary: agatha’s little bird flies away after she gets the darkhold. after a rocky relationship with alice wu-gulliver, just when little bird’s life seemed to have been on track, what happens when she reunites with her less-than sane mother?

fic type: angst

pairings: agatha x daughter!reader, alice wu-gulliver x reader

word count: 1.8k

The Darkhold ruined your life. It took the picket fence around your mothers, your brother, and you, and smashed it to bits before burning it down to the ground.

The Darkhold left your heart in tatters, or rather the half that was left.

“A small price to pay, little bird,” Agatha had said. “Just one small payment, and we get Nicky back,”

How small was half a heart? Small as half a fist? Or small as half your soul?

It was the latter, it seemed. As Agatha descended into the depths of dark magic, you realised just how blind you had been to the Darkhold’s grip on mortal desire. Or rather, in this case, immortal desire.

Nicholas was your everything. Your best friend, partner in crime. The one who slapped a boy for snatching your pencil in kindergarten, the one who took the blame for smearing peanut butter all over Señor Scratchy, the one who made you feel safe all those thunderous nights, the one who annoyed you to bits but loved you the same.

You wanted him back, but not like this.

You wanted the picket fence to be remade, wanted the perfect life you had back when you were five.

You wanted him back, but with your mother sane and safe from the claws of dark magic.

But fate plays a cruel game of chance.

So there you were, your life packed into a small backpack, shuffling oracle cards in your hands as you waited at the bus station. There you were, sixteen, lost, and alone, with only your cards, your bag, and Lorna Wu blasting in your ears.

All because of the Darkhold.

The sound of the singing was, unironically, music to your ears. It was calming despite the decibel level. It was despite the fact you had none.

“Hi,” a girl with almond eyes, dark curly hair that had the orange of fire within them said, approaching you after the concert.

“Hi,” you smiled, your gaze meeting hers shyly.

Lorna Wu was a force to be reckoned with, but gentle all the same. You spent hours with her, simply because she knew how to teach you. No screaming, no fighting, no breaking down. Just her hands guiding yours as the magic came from inside you, as the soft wisps danced over your fingertips, weaving wonders you had lost after Nick.

Alice and you were an adventure of secrets swapped under the sheets, gentle touches and sinful moments ensued in the two years after that concert. Of shared happiness and sadness, but as all good things did, it came to an end.

Alice was not a rule-follower, you were. She and you were yin and yang but with a gaping distance in between. Where the darkness of your heart overpowered hers, where arguments ended in slammed doors and couches for the night.

Lorna's death only made things worse.

Alice pulled away, like the tide from the shoreline before a tsunami. She pulled away and went so far, you couldn’t hold on. The huge wave that came crashing down tore your heart, your lifeboat that was your relationship with her, to pieces, leaving you stranded and alone again, like driftwood from the aftermath.

Brick by brick you rebuilt yourself, with every step being painful and tiring. As long hours and terrible coffee consumed you, as the days turned to nights, infinite and endless, it reaped rewards in the end. Rewards like a small apartment you could call your own, like a working day that lasted only eight hours that left you tired but satisfied.

But it was one phone call that destroyed it all.

“Good afternoon, is this Y/n Vidal?” The caller asked. You had changed your last name, it was easier on you to carry the burden of your second mother rather than the one who screwed you over in the first place.

“Yes, this is she,” you said, concerned.

“I’m Alice Wu-Gulliver’s boss, you number is listed in her emergency contacts,” he said. “If you could please come on down to the store, that would be great,”

You felt your world tilt, barely keeping your mind from collapsing in on itself. That irresponsible child, that girl, that woman who left you stranded…had you on her emergency contact? Still? Strange.

A normal day turned nightmare, when you arrived at the store she worked at.

Your eyes met the familiar blue of Agatha Harkness’. There she stood in her fucked-up glory, with some sort of emo boy by her side, grinning smugly.

“Hiya, hon,” she giggled, waving at you with a graceful wiggle of her fingers.

“Seriously,” you sighed, ignoring her and looking at Alice. “Come on, you idiot,”

“It wasn’t my fault!” She protested as you led her out the door. “That lady talked about the witch’s road and all of that shit Mom talked about and—“

“So you assaulted her?”

“No, I didn’t!”

You groaned. “Look, Alice, we are way past me saving your ass constantly,”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you back into my shit,” she said, grabbing her bike. “I’m really sorry,”

“All good, just…remove me from your emergency contacts, that gives very… ‘I know I’m your ex but this is part of my elaborate plan to get you to take me back’ vibes,” you sighed.

"Yeah, I see that, now," she nodded, shrugging awkwardly. "Look, you're an amazing woman, and I wish you the best. And thank you, for bailing me out,"

You nodded in return, bidding her a hasty, clipped goodbye before you bumped into her.

“Okay, I don’t have the spiritual energy to fucking deal with this,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Aw, you’re not even gonna say hi, little bird?” She asked in that tone. That sickly sweet tone which pissed you off.

“No,” you said plainly. “No, I’m not,”

“You got soft,” Agatha admitted as Alice’s bike drove away.

“I got smart,” you countered. “Unlike you. Dark magic has really aged you up a century,”

“Don’t be petty,” she laughed. “You wanted him back just as much as I did,”

“Yeah. I wanted him back. But I also wanted my mother,” you seethed. “I wanted my mother but where was she…oh yes, chasing ancient magic that she knew would leave her less than sane,”

“How long had you been holding that one under the rug?” She asked, smile vanishing.

“Long enough to know that it’ll take me time to forgive you,” you scoffed.

“Aw, but I’m your mama, little bird…” she giggled, patting your head. The touch stung, it truly did.

“Still bitter?”

“Still recovering,”

You sighed softly, looking down. “You know, I thought I mattered more than your dark magic. Turns out you wanted power all along,”

“Who doesn’t like power, silly little bird?” She laughed evilly. “Power is always better than any little wish,”

“It’s better than your sixteen year old daughter, I see,” you scoffed. “Don’t talk to me, Agatha. I don’t want you back in my life,”

She chuckled darkly as you turned around to walk off. “Fly away little bird,” she grinned. “I’ll catch you soon enough,”

ohh, i loved writing this one! i hope you enjoyed it, bao buns! requests are open!

[p0orbaby]

Teddy Picker

summary: three’s a crowd might be an understatement

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 1k

-

Your bedroom is a war zone, but instead of landmines, it’s littered with plushies. Innocent, wide-eyed plushies. Each one has a name, a backstory, and possibly a retirement plan, because you take this stuff seriously. There’s Mr. Fluffington, the bear who "survived" your university years, Miss Whiskers, a cat with a questionable amount of fur left after years of cuddling, and God knows how many others.

Leah’s in bed, wedged between a life-size llama and a squishy avocado. She’s trying to read, but there’s a giraffe’s neck poking her in the eye, and a penguin is wedged under her knee in a way that defies the laws of physics. The woman’s practically sweating from the effort of not losing it.

“It’s like sleeping in a zoo,” she says, not for the first time. You’re not sure if she’s talking to you, herself, or Mr. Snuggles, the elephant who’s somehow become the unofficial leader of the bed plushies. “Except none of these animals breathe, and they all look like they’re judging me”

She’s not wrong. They do have that creepy, glassy-eyed stare going on. It’s the kind of gaze that says, “I’m cute, but if you fall asleep, I might just steal your soul”

You, of course, are oblivious to this. You’re flitting around the room, busy finding space for the latest addition—a bright pink octopus with a smile so wide it’s borderline unhinged. You plop it down right in the middle of the bed, where it immediately claims dominion over the blankets. Leah watches this, her jaw tightening like she’s about to have a full-blown existential crisis.

“Babe, I love you,” she starts, the tone you’ve come to recognize as the precursor to a very serious, possibly relationship-defining conversation. “But we’re running out of bed”

“We have a king-size bed,” you point out helpfully, like the size of the bed has anything to do with the impending suffocation she’s feeling.

“And yet, somehow, I’m sleeping in the fetal position on the edge of a cliff,” Leah retorts, kicking at a plushie that’s taken up residence near her foot. “Why is there a taco in our bed? We don’t even eat tacos in bed”

“It’s not just a taco,” you correct her, as if this explains everything. “It’s Señor Taco, and he represents my love of Mexican cuisine”

Leah blinks. Slowly. Like she’s buffering and trying really, really hard not to crash.

“And why is Señor Taco touching my leg?”

“He’s being friendly?”

“I swear to God, if one more inanimate object gets near my leg…”

“Look,” you say, climbing into the plushie mountain, where you promptly disappear like it’s some kind of portal to a magical, fluffy realm. You poke your head out, like a meerkat surveying the savannah. “They’re just… comforting”

Leah sighs, closing her book, or at least trying to, but it’s hard when the pages are partially obscured by a duck with a beanie. “I’m sure they are, but it’s like sleeping in a furnace. Do you know how much heat these things trap? I woke up last night thinking I was being smothered by a goddamn Build-A-Bear”

You laugh because, honestly, the mental image is hilarious, but Leah looks dead serious. She probably had a near-death experience with a rogue teddy bear last night, and here you are, making fun of her.

“We can get rid of some,” you offer, half-heartedly, because you both know you’re lying. You’re not getting rid of a single plushie. Not Mr. Fluffington, not Señor Taco, and definitely not the avocado, which you’ve started using as a neck pillow.

“Uh-huh,” Leah says, unconvinced. “And which one of these childhood relics are you going to sacrifice to save our relationship?”

You look around, as if there’s even the slightest chance you’ll willingly part with any of them. “What about the avocado?”

Leah perks up. “Really?”

“No, I was kidding. Avocados are healthy”

Leah groans, pushing the giraffe away from her face. “At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to plushies”

“They’re hypoallergenic,” you assure her, because you googled that once in a fit of paranoia after you brought home Mr. Snuggles and Leah sneezed for three days straight. She’s giving you a look now, one that says she’s rethinking every single decision she’s made since meeting you.

“Just… maybe… one night?” she pleads, voice softening, appealing to your nonexistent sense of reason. “One night without the army of stuffed animals?”

“Where would they sleep?”

“Anywhere but here. In the living room, in a wardrobe, in a goddamn plushie cemetery for all I care”

You pretend to think it over. “But then they’ll be lonely”

Leah throws her head back on the pillow and stares at the ceiling, contemplating the chain of events that have led her to this moment. “I think you’re confusing your feelings with theirs”

“Maybe,” you admit, settling in next to her, your body flush against hers, although there’s really only so much of Leah you can touch because Señor Taco’s taking up most of the space between you. You snuggle into her shoulder, despite the llama’s best efforts to wedge itself between you.

Leah wraps an arm around you, half-heartedly, more out of habit than actual affection at this point. “One night,” she whispers, like she’s making some sort of solemn vow. “One night where I’m not suffocating under a pile of polyester and fake fur”

You hum in response, already half-asleep, because honestly, plushies are the best. They’re soft, they don’t talk back, and they definitely don’t complain about how hot it is in the bed. They’re perfect, and Leah should really be more appreciative of the cute little ecosystem you’ve built here.

As you drift off, Leah’s already strategizing. She’s probably planning a plushie heist, one where she sneaks out of bed in the dead of night and smuggles Mr. Snuggles and his plushie gang out of the room and into some faraway closet.

But for now, you’re both stuck. You in your plushie paradise, and Leah in her plushie purgatory.

It’s a good thing you love each other because honestly, if there’s anything that’s going to test this relationship, it’s Señor Taco and his posse of cuddly, suffocating friends.

[natashasvixen]

Bunny love

Summary: As much as she may try to hide it from her Rio knows that Agatha gets lonely when she has to “work” and while away she finds what she hopes may be the perfect companion for her wife.

Tags: Pure fluff, married Agathario, soft Rio, soft Agatha, baby Señor Scratchy, pet names (mi amor, angel) , pre Agatha all along?

💢Spoilers if you don’t know Rio’s identity yet💢

Author’s note: Hi hello, I genuinely don’t remember the last time I wrote anything but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I just love them so much, we aren’t going to talk about how much research I did into rabbit breeds being introduced to which countries and in which years, it’s embarrassing…. Enjoy!

Scotland 1953

It was late into the night, maybe even early morning judging by the pitch blackness outside the windows as Agatha sat next to the fireplace she’d been tending with a blanket thrown over her lap and one of her many spell books balanced neatly on the arm of the couch. The Scottish winters were harsh but the little cottage nestled away in the highlands that her and Rio shared fared well and it was more than worth it for the beauty of the landscape that surrounded their home. Here she and her wife almost felt closer to their witch roots than even that of being back in Salem and Agatha certainly didn’t miss the reminders of her Mother and Coven everywhere she looked, here in the forest surrounded by only nature she knew they were safe to live their life together, not having to hide their magic or their love for one another.

With a slight sigh Agatha pulled herself out of her little daydream and focused her eyes back on the pages of the book in front of her, her head was starting to hurt from the jumble of Latin and other languages, Agatha reached forward for the piece of paper she was jotting down notes on, grabbed her pen and wrote down a few more things that could be of help for the spell she was trying to create, Rio said she was mad trying to make a child of magic that would be both of theirs equally but Agatha would go to the ends of the earth to make it true, she wanted nothing more than a family with the love of her life and deep down she knew Rio wanted it too, she didn’t care if it was against the laws of magic to do so and for hours upon end every day she would read every spell book and grimoire cover to cover trying to find all the answers and incantations she may need to finally make her and Rio’s dream a reality.

The Netherlands (somewhere)

To be perfectly honest Rio wasn’t sure where she was, the Netherlands that’s for sure but she’s not sure which city she is on the outskirts of, you’d think after hundreds of years of transporting souls of the dead to their final resting place all over the world she would be better at her geographical knowledge but it wasn’t really important when you always had the same destination to reach in the end. It had been a tiring trip, yes she was death personified but that didn’t mean what she had to do got any easier over the years, this time it had been a young family and while at least they could stay together it still drained her to think of the life they could have had. Gently she lowered herself to sit on a frosted log and took a moment to collect herself before heading home to her beloved. As Rio rested her head in her hands she heard a faint rustling in front of her, she narrowed her eyes and looked forward, faintly bringing her green magic to the surface, even now the memories of the witch trials hung over her head and she was always ready to protect herself if need be.

Much to Rio’s amusement a small rabbit emerged from the undergrowth, “wow lady death being spooked by a bunny rabbit that’s a new low” she mused to herself as she watched the rabbit tentatively move closer to her. “Well you certainly aren’t meant to be out here, you’re definitely not a wild rabbit” Rio spoke to the small creature slowly lowering her hand out for the bunny to sniff, the little thing was as far from a wild rabbit as you could get, bright white with speckles of light orange and black spots and the floppiest ears you’ve ever seen also far too tiny to be out wandering alone.

Being a green witch and yet also lady death was a confusing combination for nature to comprehend sometimes, Rio was drawn to nature and it often returned the same feeling towards her, that included the living beings that inhabited its world and this baby rabbit seemed no different, hopping over after a quick sniff of her hand and settling down under Rio’s cloak to shield itself from the cold breeze that washed over the countryside, she chuckled at its actions and flicked her wrist, her green magic making some dandelions sprout from the icy ground which the rabbit happily munched on.

As the witch watched the small rabbit eat she pondered to herself, “can’t exactly leave you out here can I? And Agatha has been going on about getting a familiar” the tiny ball of fluff stood up on its back legs resting its front feet on the side of Rio’s leg barely reaching above her boot and looking at her intently. Rio smiled to herself and scooped the rabbit into her arms who settled down instantly into the warmth, “she’s going to say I’ve gone soft” she scoffed to herself as she prepared to transport herself and her new little companion home.

Agatha’s research for the night was becoming increasingly exhausting and she knew she should have been in bed hours ago, this was made abundantly clear when she felt the familiar pull of her wife’s magic that was so intertwined with her own she knew when she was close, meaning she was in fact home from helping another soul pass on through the veil.

Rio always transported herself home outside of their cottage when she was late not wanting to wake her wife from her slumber however as soon as she found herself on the snow dusted doorstep of their home she could feel Agatha’s magic humming with life and clearly not sleeping, gently tucking the little bundle of fluff she was carrying further into her cloak both to keep him warm and hidden so she could surprise her lover she gently eased the wooden door open and slipped inside quickly to not let the heat of the fire out.

Slipping off her boots and easing down the hood of her green cloak she moved her way into the living area where she saw her wife smiling tiredly at her from her comfy position on the couch, “mi amor what are you still doing awake” Rio asked quietly as she raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Just doing some more research” Agatha sighed, motioning to the still open spell book, “I didn’t realise the time, how was your trip angel?” She questioned softly. Rio scoffed as she always did at the pet name Agatha had bestowed upon her all those years ago when they met for the first time, quite fitting being called an angel when she was literally death itself. “Tiring” she mumbled leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her wife’s head, as she did Agatha noticed movement beneath Rio’s cloak and a quick hiss came from her wife’s mouth, Agatha noted that she still had one arm tucked away behind the fabric. She tilted her head quizzically at the green witch, “what are you hiding from me?” She questioned reaching to grab at her cloak, “ah ah ah” Rio tutted, pulling away, “it’s a surprise” she said, holding up her other hand to wave a finger at her wife mockingly.

“Oh come on Ri you know I hate surprises” Agatha said getting up on her knees to try get a better look over the back of the couch at what her wife was concealing underneath her cloak. Rio rounded the couch and Agatha turned to follow her movements now sitting crossed legged as Rio stood in front of her with both her arms now tucked back inside her cloak, “you’re going to make fun of me” the green witch said as she became uncharacteristically shy and turned her body slightly away.

“Well that depends what it is but I promise I’ll try not to tease” Agatha said with a smirk reaching her hand out to beckon Rio closer to her.

Now Rio stood right in front of Agatha and the purple witch gently took hold of the arm that her wife had been hiding and noticed that there were scratch marks, “you think I’m going to make fun of you for getting scratched?” Agatha questioned looking confused “why haven’t you healed it these are hardly anything” right as she finished her sentence from Rio’s other arm and behind the fabric of her cloak hopped the tiny bunny landing straight in Agatha’s lap. “Well now you’ve ruined the surprise” Rio glared at the bunny making Agatha burst out laughing.

Rio pouted and crossed her arms over her chest “told you you’d make fun of me” she whined. Agatha’s laughter died down wiping a tear from her eye as she looked up at her wife who looked like an annoyed child, “I’m not making fun of you love he just took me by surprise” she giggled as she pulled her wife to sit next to her and started to pet the bunny who sat happily in her lap like nothing had happened, “and what pray tell made you take me home a sweet baby bunny?” She asked leaning over to press a kiss to Rio’s cheek.

Rio sighed leaning into her wife’s side, “well you haven’t let up about wanting a familiar recently and besides he found me not the other way around” she smiled reaching over to boop the bunny’s nose.

Agatha looked down lovingly at the bunny as she continued to pet him, “I was thinking more black cat or raven you know but hmmm I think I can train him up to be a scary bunny” Agatha cooed as she snuggled the bunny under her chin, not long after he kicked off his back feet jumping onto Agatha’s lap before further hopping down to the floor and flopping himself in front of the fireplace leaving Agatha with matching scratches on her arms, “te veo señor” Rio laughed and her and Agatha fell into each other giggling at the rabbits antics, “scratchy little thing” Agatha said examining her and her wife’s arms before looking back at the rabbit clearly making himself at home, “that’s what I’ll call you” she said placing a kiss to that back of Rio’s hand, “Señor Scratchy” she said looking into her wife’s eyes “thank you my angel” she said softly before leaning in and connecting their lips in a soft kiss, when they parted Rio started placing kisses on Agatha’s arm, “now let me fix the little devil’s marks” she smirked at her wife before starting to gently lick at the superficial wounds, “I missed you amor” she sighed against her skin, “I missed you too angel” Agatha said gently kissing her wife’s head.

Their perfect little family was almost complete.

[smol-bean-boi13]

FIRST IMPRESSIONS!!

Echo Walker x Raphael Hamato <3

Echo is me and @percy-eats-souls 's OC that is shipped with Raph in Rottmnt ^^

Info below! ⤵️

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Who is Echo?:

Echo is Draxum's biological daughter, Echo hates Draxum (trained her to be a general for war), and was forced to fight in the Nexus, and soon killed her best friend, Mars.

Once she met the turtles, she left Big Mama, and was taken in by Señor Hueso, she and the turtles eventually met up again when she was working for Hueso in his restaurant. They started to reach out to her more, and some feelings for a certain red cladded turtle grew along the way.

A whole bunch of hijinks ensue, and one day, the two confessed to each other, however, they forgot to inform the rest of the Hamato family until weeks after.

Echo and Raph love each other very much, and both would do anything for the other. They are both 16 years old and dating :)

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Here is her masterpost and Please check out Percy's blog for any more info!

We love our silly little turtle gal and hope you vote for her! :D

@tmnt-ocxcanon-comp

[laanswife]

Agathario's Headcanons (with a bit of Nicholas too)

Titanic sinking was a birthday present from Agatha to Rio.

Rio who chooses their couple's Halloween costumes, one for Nicholas too.

Halloween night is date night.

Picnics on top of the graves of the witches who challenged Agatha, because why not?

Señor Scratchy got its name from an inside joke, about someone who flirted with one of them and the other got jealous.

Even though Rio is a green witch, she can't keep a plant alive for more than 2 days, Agatha loves to tease her about it.

The grass in the back of their house grows out of control, Agatha hates it, but doesn't feel like mowing it, Rio doesn't care and lets it grow.

Nicholas always waits for Rio to get back from her work collecting souls, so she can put him to sleep.

They already left a soul/ghost of Nicky's nanny.

In the same case of the ghost nanny, Nicholas ran away for a walk in the middle of the night, which is why Rio doesn't like ghosts.

Rio loves writing his name on Agatha's skin with a knife and healing it later.

They once went to a costume party as Hades and Persephone.

[tfc2211]

Play ▶ Mr Moo's Hippie Funk Stash Vol 1

Tracks 01 - Frank Zappa - Hot Poop (intro) (from 'We're Only In It For The Money', 1968) 02 - Señor Soul - The Mouse (from 'It's Your Thing' 1969 / Double Shot & Whiz - available on 'What It Is Y'all' / BGP) 03 - Rasputin's Stash - Hit It & Pass It (from 'The Devil Made Me Do It' 1974 / Gemigo - reissued in 2000 / Sequel) 04 - The Vibrations - The Man (from 'The Vibrations' Lp, 1972 / Mandala) 05 - Calypso Kings & The Soul Investigators - Compin' & Smokin' (from 'Compin' & Smokin'/Damper Down Popcorn' 7inch, 1999 / Soul Fire) 06 - The Coasters - Soul Pad (from 'Soul Pad' 7inch, 1967 / Date) 07 - The Masters - Party Time (from 'Funk spectrum - Compiled by Josh Davis and Keb Darge' 1999 / BBE) 08 - Organization - Smokey Feeling (from 'Creative Sounds of the Organization' 1974 / Wirl - available on 'Trippin' 1996 / Luv'N'Haight 09 - Sixto Rodriguez - Sugarman (from 'David Holmes presents Come & Get It U Got it', 2002 / 13 Amp) 10 - Willard Burton & The Pacifiers - Warm The Pot ('Til It's Good & Hot) (from 'Warm The Pot ('Til It's Good & Hot)' 7-inch, 1976 / Money - available on 'Superfunk 2' 2001 / BGP) 11 - The Politicians - Everything Good Is Bad (from 'The Politicians featuring McKinley Jackson' 1972 / Hot Wax)

Info : Selected and mixed by Mister Moo (T.I.M.E.C.) Artwork by Djouls, Stashboxes photos by Mister Moo

Also here:  Mr_Moo-Hippie_Funk_Stash_Vol1.mp3

[cissa-calls]

In anticipation of the finale, there are two wolves inside me right now:

1. The hope that it is a gritty, raw opening of love, grief and reflecting on oneself as an individual identity and group. Something poetic about death, longing, memory, and the continuation or breaking of cycles of trauma. However, though it is something that is definitely tear jerking (sob jerking moreso), it is not gratuitously sad to the point that it falls directly into the sapphic trope of tragic love, but still is a testament to the time and trials these witches have faced as outcasts. Answers to questions of what does it mean to want? To long? (And it’s inherent power as they near the end of the witches road and their prizes are within grasp). Is it the pursuit that is most poignant, or the result?

2. The secret and entirely unrealistic hope that it ends with the coven all reuniting! Agatha gets her powers back, Tommy is found, and a resolution about Nick is reached. Agatha and Rio fall madly in love again and live out their days in sapphic cottage core bliss with Señor Scratchy. Rio reaps souls and Agatha practices magic and gets therapy for the Evanora trauma of it all. They all have weekly coven dinners and even though they all nearly kill each other several times during the meal, wow they’re a found family with a space to freely expressly themselves (not without judgement…they still love to judge each other, but without condemnation). Agatha can’t cook and nearly burns the building down, Lilia and Jen question that out of all mortals, why did Rio pick this one? Rio is like: I’m a divine being, so I don’t need to eat (Agatha kicks her under the table)…and because I love her. Most of the time. Is this silly and only realistic in the realm of fan fiction? Absolutely, but let me live, I already KNOW these last two episodes are going to WRECK me (if episode 7 was anything to go by…)

Either way, I hope to see Agatha and Rio ending the series as it began: beating the ever loving, mother frickin CRAP outta each other. No holding back, just an all out brawl that makes Lucille and Edith’s showdown at the end of Crimson Peak look like child’s play. Nothing says I love you like cutthroat combat <3

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

YOUR COLOURS

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Request:

I need any kind of soulmate AU , Bruno Madrigal X Reader

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When you were little, your mother told you millions of times about the day she met your father, and you, loving that story, asked her to tell it to you millions of times more.

She recounted that one day, during a walk with some friends, the wind blew away the shawl around her neck and a young beautiful boy picked it up for her, as soon as his hand touched the small piece of cloth, the silk became light blue.

Until a person finds their soulmate, their eyes can only be seen in black and white, but if one of the two predestined touches the same thing in a short amount of time, the object and the world around will slowly become colourful and their love would be strong as a mountain.

The years passed and you got tired of seeing the world only in black, white, grey and all the combinations in between.

One day, you were helping a new married couple, the Mejors, to move from their parent's house to the one their friend Luisa Madrigal had built for them.

Balancing two large boxes in your arms, you crossed the street with your field of view so limited that all you could see was cardboard and because of this one of your feet caught an uneven stone.

You were prepared for hitting the floor, but someone in front of you managed to avoid your fall and with your eyes still closed in fright, you thanked the stranger and entered the couple's house.

"Where do I put these?" You asked.

"In the bedroom, please" Mrs Mejor answered.

You placed the boxes on the floor and as you were about to leave, something caught your eyes.

The bottom box, the one you actually held in your hands was slowly changing colour, from a place grey to a light brown, the tone spreading from a handprint on one side.

"Oh Dios mio" you shrieked.

"Did something broke?" Señor Mejor told you.

"No! The box... The box is changing colour, I can see its colour!" You shouted.

"One of you saw the man that helped me before?" Saying so you walked outside but there was no one to be seen.

"Y/N, that means he is your soulmate. Do not worry, Encanto is not so big" the lady tried to cheer you up.

"I know..." You murmured.

You returned home distraught and with your head in the clouds, you had waited so long for that moment and due to an unfortunate case you were not able to see him.

Not having even eaten a single bite of your food and seeing you down in spirits, your family asked you what had happened, so you told them everything, they were happy for you but sorry that you had missed that very special moment and like Mrs Major, they were confident that you would find him again.

Laying in your bed you trashed around for a while but since sleep wouldn't come you schemed and planned how to find the mysterious man.

You thought of going to the main square and touching as many surfaces as possible hoping that passing by, your soul mate could touch them in turn in a short amount of time.

You soon discarded the idea.

So you imagined of purposely losing a shoe with your name written on it and-

"Ew, that's lame! Who goes around losing shoes without realizing it?" You grunted.

Several days later you informed your father that for the whole day, you would have to help with the decorations of the village in preparation for the Spring equinox.

"Buenos Dias, Y/N" the old lady that lived in front of your house greeted you.

"Buenos Dias señora! ¿Qué se dice de bella hoy?" You asked.

"You did not hear? Bruno Madrigal returned home!" She whispered.

"The one with precognition powers? Mama told me about him once but I was just a kid back then"

"I saw him going that way, be careful, he cause misfortune!" And she pointed the direction with one of her bony fingers.

You lined the streets with decorations and flowers of which colours you could not even imagine, helped by the only member of the Madrigals that could actually create flowers out of nowhere.

The ebb and flow of time seemed to slow to a halt, even the slow setting of the sun took you by surprise and climbing down from the ladder you were on, you saw a stranger talking with Isabela.

He was strangely fascinating and you found yourself staring at him for a few moments until you managed to disenchant yourself.

The man had long curly black hair with grey streaks and looked like he hasn't had a day of sleep in months since his prominent eyebags were impossible to ignore.

He wears a ruana two sizes bigger that has seen better days over a shirt, pants, and a pair of sandals.

"Hello! I'm Y/N, nice to meet you" you said greeting him cheerfully.

You extended your hand but looking at it he took a step backwards, staring at you in disbelief.

"You don't know me?" He demanded.

"No, that's why I'm presenting myself" You responded perplexed.

"I'm Bruno Madrigal, you certainly have heard about me and what I am" told the man fidgeting with his oversized ruana.

"I have, nevertheless, I'm glad to finally meet you" you smiled gently.

He was about to reach for your hand when a cascade of flowers dropped on your head, Bruno tried to catch them but they just brushed his fingers.

"I'm so sorry," Isabella said sincerely "one of the big flower decorations just broke right above you!"

"I'm fine! No need to worry " you laughed but Bruno was walking away.

The flowers on the floor became blue and bright pink, the ground became dark brown and all the rest of the world took finally colour, but as beautiful as it was you didn't care about that.

"Bruno wait!" You called after him.

"No, please. I don't know what you're seeing but there's a mistake." He blurted walking faster.

"We're seeing the same thing! Slow down!" You ran in front of him and blocked his way extending your arms wide open.

"I'm probably older than your parents, don't do this to yourself..." He tried to convince you.

"I've waited all my life for you! Now that I find you...you don't want me, do you?" Your eyes were filling with tears and your heart was hammering in your chest.

He softened a bit "You're my soulmate...I think I'm in love with you, even before you introduced yourself, actually...I've been seeing colours for days, since the time I helped you to not fall."

"You what?" It was your turn to be frightened.

"You touched my clothes, maybe you didn't realize it. Suddenly I was seeing the world as it is and...I ran away." He admitted.

"Why? Tell me why you didn't tell me about it" You implored, grabbing him weakly from his clothes.

"You are so beautiful and young...I didn't make it. I believed there was a mistake. I never had happiness so I thought I wasn't worth it. Or worth of you" he explained, looking down at his sandals.

"Worth of me? We're destined to be together from the day we were born, Bruno. Somewhere in the universe is written that you're made for me as I'm made for you" you said placing your hand on his cheeks, rubbing the skin lovingly with your thumbs "You're perfect and if you'll look into our future, you'll see me always by your side"

Bruno was positively crying at that point, hiding his face in your neck as you held him tight, he was mumbling apologies between sobs and you shushed him gently until he recovered.

"Colours are beautiful, aren't they?" He questioned letting you go and still sniffing a bit.

"Yeah, but nothing compared to you." You responded, stealing a quick peck.

Bruno reddened like a child caught with his hands in a cookie jar, so you stole another kiss but that time he reciprocated.

"I believe my family would love you" he expressed taking one of your hands in his.

You brushed a curly strand from his face, marvelled at how gorgeous were his features and the colour of his eyes.

"You know what? I want to meet them!" You informed him.

"I have to tell you, sometimes they are a bit too much" he wanted you, walking on the way home.

"They seem wonderful, just like you," you said with a laugh.

As the sun disappeared behind the high mountains of Encanto, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate and just at that moment you realized that it's not finding the right person that makes you see the colour of the world all of the sudden but love and being loved surely does.

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline that's turning into a fic Part 5 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: His Hotness don John being a bully 🙃 <----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 chapter map

-Life moves at its own pace at Las Nubes. True, it is a vineyard, but it is also a working farm, a self-reliant symbiosis of the land, the beasts, and the men and women who tend them. There are sheep and chickens and pigs and of course, the pride of the land owning Californio: horses. There is always something to be done, when you are not tending your father, so when the chance comes at the siesta break you pounce on it to write a little in your diary. Everyone else is asleep, or at least resting during the hottest part of the day, and its almost as though you have the place to yourself by the duck pond in the shade of the courtyard. You throw them little morsels of stale bread, smiling at the happy way they wag their tails and mutter as they nibble. 

The hens enjoy themselves, at least, until the drake decides yet again that it’s time to bestow his special attentions. There is one hen in particular he favors, and you wince as it looks more like he’s trying to drown her than make love. The poor thing has a little bald patch on the back of her head from him biting her to hold on as he rides her. 

“Leave her alone,” you say, poking at him with a stick to dislodge him from the poor girl. She shakes it off and goes back to her bread. He makes his complaints to you, but retreats to the far side of the fountain. 

“Poor bastard. You didn’t even let him finish.” 

You jump a little at the sound of don Juan’s voice, not having expected to see anyone around. Warily you watch him as he takes the seat next to yours, his long legs sprawled out before him. He wipes his face with a handkerchief; he’s been doing something in the fields, perhaps, or out with his prized stallion. He seems tired, but content; whatever chore he labored at must have gone well. 

“He’s too much of a pest,” you say. “He needs to be sent to the cook pot.” 

Juan smirks over at you. “But then where will my ducklings come from?”

You make a sound between your teeth at that, and he goes on, “I like him. He is exactly what God made him. He does not have to apologize for it.”

It’s true, that he’s a handsome fellow, with his iridescent emerald green head and the proud curl of his drake feathers on his behind. “He looks like pato asado to me.”  

“You would take his life?” poses Juan, clearly enjoying playing the foil. He was always like this, even when you were children. Always taking the opposing side, for the sake of being contrary. “For being a man of passions?”

“For hurting his females for the sake of indulging his passions. He’s supposed to protect them.”

“Ah, well. Everything comes with a price.” 

You look over at don Juan, devastatingly handsome, even in a dusty work shirt open at the collar, his long legs encased to the knee in well-worn leather boots. Once you might have sold your soul, to possess this man for yourself. 

Now you realize, some prices are too high. 

“What do you want, Juan?” you ask cautiously. You can tell that strangely he’s in one of his more playful moods. That doesn’t mean you’re safe by half.

“Just to talk.”

“About?”

He leans in across the table, his dark eyes raking over you. You hate it, how that still gives you such a guilty thrill. “I have a proposition that may interest you.”

“Is this a proposition you would not like my husband to overhear?”

Now it is he who makes the frustrated hiss between his sharp teeth, sneering. “Come off it. You are no more married to that man than I am the Pope.” 

“Señor, how you offend me.” 

He narrows his eyes to slits, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his proud lips. He is enjoying himself–and that worries you. “I understand you, y/n, better than you think.”

You’re afraid that might be true.

“Oh?”

“I have always known you have a heart not easily tamed. Perhaps it is why I have always loved you.”

“Juan…”

“Marry me, y/n. Be the mistress of this place. Of your own destiny. I will give you your room with your typewriter in the tower, overlooking this.” He holds his arms wide, encompassing the entirety of Las Nubes. “There is no better view, no better place to be on this Earth. Your only master shall be me.”

Many things can be said of don Juan. If there is something you know he does truly love, it is Las Nubes. He is a man of this land, and you understand he truly cannot fathom wanting to be anywhere else. 

Then, you realize that he must have been spying on you and Paul in the pool that night, and that maybe he really does know everything. 

Once, being crowned reina of this estate might have been your fondest dream, something so far out of your grasp there was never any sense in even thinking of it in the light of day. Now…you know that binding yourself to Juan would be like offering your ankle up for a gilded ball and chain. 

He would destroy you, little by little. Maybe not even maliciously, but in spite of himself. He is what he is, and you are what you are. 

It would be war. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say, tracing a finger over the edge of your little diary, unable to meet his burning eyes while your heart beats too fast in your throat. “I’m already married, and you are engaged.”

“To some girl I’ve never met, two-thousand miles away? What is she to me, but a dowry? We don’t need it. The harvest was generous; the land blesses us as always. We take care of Las Nubes, and she takes care of us.”

You can feel his eyes boring into you, and it sends an uneasy thrill down your spine.   

“I’m sorry, señor. You’re too late. Don’t marry her if it displeases you. But you must find yourself a different bride–I am taken.”

You physically feel the change in the air, as his jovial bonhomie shifts to blackness, like a thunderhead looming. Yet somehow it surprises you when he moves like lightning, snatching you up in his unforgiving arms, his grip on your wrists bruising. “WIllful girl. I offer you this highest honor, and you throw it back in my face? I will prove that you are lying to me,” he tells you, his voice low in your ear. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your fear. “And then, I will claim what is mine.” 

“Let go of me.”

“What if I don’t?” he demands, delighted by the thought of a fight. You can see the spark in his eyes. Despite his anger; this is fun for him, and you know a marriage to this man would never know peace. He would terrorize you for nothing if not his own amusement. Maybe he would give you a room in the tower–but its more likely he would lock you in it. 

“Y/n?” Again, Paul rides to your rescue, approaching from somewhere beyond the wall. 

Before you can answer this time, don Juan presses his mouth to yours in a punishing kiss, your teeth clashing in his furious bid to claim you. This time, he remembers to retreat before you can bite him too, releasing you so abruptly you fall back into your chair. With a dramatic sweep of his arm he knocks your diary into the fountain before stalking away on those long legs. “How clumsy of me!”

You shriek, diving for the little book. 

That is how Paul finds you, on your knees by the water, crying over your inked words now obliterated. 

“Y/n?” He falls to his knees beside you, at first not understanding, searching you for injury. “Are you alright?”

You hold up the little book, half the pages now more resembling a watercolor painting. “It’s ruined.” 

“Oh.” He frowns, not wanting to belittle this thing that clearly distresses you, but not understanding nonetheless. “Can’t you…write it again?”

You know you’ll never be able to recreate exactly what you’d put down there. You won’t be able to remember what you wrote, in the throes of feverish inspiration, the manic fugue of the cosmic muse whispering through your writing hand. 

Amidst your own daily musings, you’ve been writing a story about a spirited young lady who meets a handsome veteran on a bus. 

You shake your head, crestfallen, and Paul’s frown darkens for you. 

“What happened?”

You don’t know if he saw the tailend of don Juan turning the corner before he made the scene, but a part of you fears that if you tell on the master there will be a fight. “I dropped it,” you say meekly. 

For a moment, you can tell he wants to argue, but because he’s a better man than anyone here, he lets it go. “Ok, sweetheart. Let’s go see if we can get it dried out.”

You are beginning to see this miraculous thing about Paul. When you are dead set that a thing is doomed, he still finds hope. Although you’re mostly certain the diary is ruined, you still feel better returning to your room with his arm around your shoulders. 

Maybe you can rewrite it after all.  

[cassiebones]

Señor Scratchy

I think Agatha's rabbit (probably also her Familiar) is centuries old. In fact, I think maybe Rio or Nicky is the one who brought him home. Maybe both of them together.

Now we know that Nicky was older than a baby or a toddler, I'm imagining him playing outside, behind their house, slightly into the woods, and finding a little baby bunny next to a deceased mom and siblings. He calls out for his mothers and Rio is closest so she comes running. This is her son, after all, and nobody fucks with her kid.

She gets to him and finds Nicky cradling this weeks-old little bunny, who is shivering, he's so scared and confused. He points out the mom bunny and the siblings, all of whom are dead. He knows his Mama's job and asks her if she has to take the bunny souls now.

Rio strokes his hair and shakes her head. "No," she says, "their souls are already departed, and I'm not the one who does that job. I only help the humans who die."

He nods in understanding, still stroking the baby bunny in his arms. "Well, what's gonna happen to this one? Is he gonna die, too? I don't want him to die." Tears fill his eyes and Rio panics a bit, trying to comfort him.

"He won't die," she says, "if we take care of him, right? Come on, let's bring him inside and see if we can find something for him to eat."

Nicky brightens at that and follows her into the house. Agatha is reading in the living room and she takes one look at the bunny and says, "no. absolutely not."

"But, Mommy!" Nicky whines. "He's all alone."

"I'm sure his mother is missing him," Agatha says, closing her book, waving him off. "She's probably somewhere in the woods, searching frantically for him." Rio shakes her head behind their son's back, signing the death symbol.

"She's dead," Nicky says, sadly. "So are his brothers and sisters. He's really all alone. He needs a family."

"Besides," Rio adds, "we've already given him a name. Right, Nicky?" She nudges him when he gives her a look of confusion before realization dawns on him.

"Yeah!" he agrees. "Of course! His name is...uh...Scratchy!"

"Señor Scratchy," Agatha says. "He's a certified Scratch!"

"Scratchy Scratch?" Agatha huffs, raising one eyebrow.

"Señor Scratchy Scratch," Nicky says, hugging him closer to his chest. The bunny cuddles under his collar and starts to nibble. "And he's hungry!" he says. "Do we have any carrots?"

"Yes," Agatha says, "but I was saving them to make us some rabbit stew." She widens her eyes teasingly at her son, making him pout as he turns away with his new pet in his arms. She snorts and shakes her head. "But that one's too small for a good stew, isn't he? Need to fatten him up a little more." She sighs. "Fine," she says, "you can keep him...but just until he's big enough to feed the three of us. Okay?"

Nicky rolls his eyes even as he nods. "Okay," he says, looking down at Señor Scratchy. "You're gonna love it here, buddy," he says, walking into the kitchen. "Mommy and Mama are really nice, even when they make mean jokes." He eyes Agatha over his shoulder as she rolls her eyes and laughs. Rio steps up behind her, wrapping her arms around Agatha's waist and resting her chin on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Did you really have to bring home an animal that you know is going to die," Agatha murmurs.

"You don't know he's gonna die," Rio huffs. "I think he has a fighting chance, especially with Nicky on his side. That kid is relentless."

"Did you at least pick up Scratchy's family for supper?"

"You seriously think your son who just adopted a bunny is going to eat rabbit stew right now?"

Agatha shrugged. "We could tell him it's beef. He won't know the difference."

"You are a terrific mother," Rio laughs, holding her more tightly.

"Takes one to know one," Agatha retorts, turning to press her lips to Rio's.

"Eww gross!" They turn to see Nicky standing in the doorway, his eyes tightly closed as Scratchy nibbles on a carrot. "Ignore them, Señor Scratchy," Nicky says. "They do that a lot."