#So a big issue with his order was that he gave them the length he wanted in units from Belgrade that they were ??? about in Constantinople

[stuffedeggplants]

You're not crazy; he looks like Vlad the Impaler because the costume designer was specifically taking inspiration from later 16th and 17th century noble fashion from the part of present-day Romania he was from, elements of which are shared by peoples from neighboring areas like Ukraine, Hungary, and Poland. Proximity to and sometimes actual control by the Ottoman Empire in the case of Ukraine, Hungary, and Romania strongly influenced fashion there during this time period, making styles more visually distinct from what you think of when you look at noble fashion farther away in Western Europe from the same time period. I know Vlad the Impaler was pre-16th century, but there's a direct line of development from the fashion of his time into fashion that became popular a couple centuries later as Ottoman influence on fashion continued to grow and trading opportunities expanded up through the Balkans and Black Sea and beyond to the countries directly next to those areas. (The huge mustache remained popular as well.)

If you think of culture as moving in gradients, and you center your story around characters living in England (Dracula) or Germany (Nosferatu) in the past, you can pick a villain from another culture in this border region where the gradient shifts a bit--Hungary, Romania, Ukraine, etc.--somewhere far away enough to be at once familiar while still being unfamiliar enough to invoke deep-level anxieties about foreigners. The parallels to the reception and persecution of Jews in Europe--many of whose ancestors were brought there as slaves or forcibly deported from their homeland in Israel by Roman imperialism and repression--as 'perpetual foreigners' in the countries their communities survived and evolved in are obvious.

Because of the nature of the vampire myth, what it represents on a deeper psychological level, and how it's localized to this part of Europe in the movie and popular culture, I 100% understand if there are some Jewish and Ukrainian viewers (or others) who watch the movie and are reminded of how other peoples in history and/or the present time have stereotyped and persecuted them, regardless of what the filmmakers intended or if I necessarily agree that it's 'meant' to show/be something. Art is a personal experience.

Anyway, here's a costume designed for the new Nosferatu!

You can see the similarities it has with this drawing of a 17th century Polish nobleman and the portrait of Gábor Bethlen, a Hungarian prince of Transylvania from the same time period. Note the elements of the coat--lined with fur inside, the decorative designs on the front, the super long sleeves hanging over the shoulder that aren't actually meant for your arms, etc. The hats all have a jeweled ornament decorated with feathers, and the inner jackets are wrapped with sashes at the waist. (We actually have the correspondence of a Transylvanian nobleman who ordered two sashes custom made in Constantinople, but there were issues with his order which I'll explain in the tags.)

Some more 16th and 17th examples drawn from contemporary Hungarian illustrations and paintings:

If you zoom in on the costume's coat, you'll see floral patterns created out of the negative space of surrounding gold embroidery. As a "similar" thing in terms of floral embroidery made of precious metal thread, we have Leopold I's dolmány, made in Italy but produced in Hungarian style. On the right is another example from the same time period of golden floral embroidery, which could be purchased directly in the Ottoman Empire and then further sewn or altered in Hungary/Wallachia/wherever.

I know I just used one Polish example, but there's a ton of upper class male fashion from this time period that looks like this from there, Ukraine, the Balkans, etc. because that's the region where this stuff was popular. Obviously it should all be brought back immediately. This is why the movie costume looks like that--it's specific to a particular time and place, calling back to where Vlad the Impaler came from and where Bram Stoker got his general inspiration and vibes from, only a couple hundred years after Vlad actually lived.

“If it should be, and he came to London, with his teeming millions. … There may be a solemn duty; and if it come we must not shrink from it.”—Bram Stoker, Dracula

A vampire must avoid direct sunlight to avoid crumbling into ash, yet few folk horrors have been subject to more scrutiny than the transformative bloodsuckers who dominate the night. A new and absolutely terrific cinematic take on the myth, Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu, has hit theaters, and its most notable element, in addition to outstanding performances, dialogue, and production design, is that this new version really amps up the lusty goth quotient. (So much hallucinatory writhing and moaning!) However, its release so close to the inauguration of a U.S. president who has stoked fears of immigrants draws out xenophobic elements inherent to the text, and an inner tension with its own reactionary origin is part of the genius of this new film.

If you aren’t a subscriber to Fangoria magazine, you may not know the Nosferatu backstory. The first version, released in 1922, is a landmark of German filmmaking that plundered intellectual property as if it were the grave of a Victorian noblewoman buried with her jewels—a fate some of the characters in Dracula think has befallen poor Lucy Westenra, before it is revealed she is actually an accursed undead demon!

Unlike his most famous literary creation, though, Irish-born writer Bram Stoker does not walk the earth a century after his death. As such, the theater manager who wrote books on the side would likely be surprised at the strength of his legacy. Dracula, published in 1897, was only a modest success at the time. It was not even the first book about vampires published in English; how it became the wellspring for vampire iconography—to the point that is used to sell breakfast cereal—is perhaps due to vivid, dueling film interpretations.

In 1921, a German film producer with an interest in the occult created a new studio (Prana) with an eye toward making supernatural-themed films, and kicked things off with an adaptation of Dracula. He hired Henrik Galeen, who co-wrote the outstanding expressionist The Golem: How He Came Into the World, to write the screenplay, and F. W. Murnau—who would later make Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, one of the undisputed masterpieces of silent cinema—to direct. But he did not pay for the rights to Bram Stoker’s book. Instead, Galeen changed the names of the characters (Count Dracula to Count Orlok) and the location (London to Wisborg, a fictional German city), and made some additional tweaks to the narrative. The title, Nosferatu, is a word used in Dracula to categorize vampires, meaning undead. (The etymology of this word remains debated, but it may have its roots in the Greek nosophoros, meaning “disease-bearing.”)

Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror was released to significant acclaim, but one person who wasn’t happily chomping on popcorn was Florence Balcombe, Bram Stoker’s widow. An anonymous informant sent her a handbill from the movie’s lavish premiere at the Marble Hall of the Berlin Zoological Gardens. The promotional material boasted that the film was “freely adapted” from Dracula. Balcombe took this to court, won her case, and bankrupted Prana, which was ordered to destroy every copy of Nosferatu. Clearly, this did not happen, as you can still watch the movie today—and, despite the iffy ethical origins, you should; it’s terrific.

But what Balcombe did next was key. Springboarding off the increased interest in the story (and to guarantee proper payment on copyrighted material), she greenlit a stage production. The show ended up being a hit in London in 1927, then moved to New York later the same year. That version starred Bela Lugosi. Four years later, Lugosi reprised the role for Tod Browning’s film version for Universal Pictures, the first talkie in the Universal Monsters series. It was a sensation, and Lugosi’s sharp-toothed Transylvanian is now an early screen icon on par with Chaplin’s Little Tramp.

Other Dracula movies were soon in the works—a Spanish-language version was actually shot concurrently with Browning’s, using the same sets—and have never stopped. Hammer Studios in Britain made several classics starring Christopher Lee; there’s the Andy Warhol-presented Blood for Dracula; the disco era’s comedy Love at First Bite; Francis Ford Coppola’s stylistic version from the 1990s; and then there’s Adam Sandler’s Hotel Transylvania cartoons. Moreover, Lugosi knew a good gig when he saw it. The actor reprised his role for comedy (Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein—and also the Count!) and special appearances (a gig on Fred Allen’s top rated Texaco Star Theater radio show is just one example), and also starred in several Dracula-esque horror titles like The Devil Bat. While Lugosi’s lines from Dracula were instantly quotable (“I never drink … wine” is certainly my favorite), behind it all was the less hokey, dreamlike silent film version of Nosferatu, sprung from illicit origins and filled with striking sinister imagery.

Shadow of the Vampire, released in 2000, imagines that the original production was cursed because actor Max Schreck, who played Count Orlok, was truly a vampire. (Willem Dafoe was nominated for an Oscar for his performance of Schreck in this behind-the-scenes comedy, which is especially amusing because he plays the part of Prof. von Frantz, a spin on Stoker’s Dr. Van Helsing, in the new film.) Shadow of the Vampire’s premise—the cover up of an unsettling (fictional) aspect of the original Nosferatu—works because, while the intentions of Murnau and company are hard to know, it is easy to see how German audiences of the 1920s could read Nosferatu as antisemitic.

The film and its source material read like a laundry list of antisemitic tropes: The Count comes from “the East,” a backwards, superstitious land. (Transylvania, while certainly a real place, means “beyond the woods.”) He has somehow amassed a fortune despite living apart from the villagers who fear and despise him. He is a non-metaphorical bloodsucker. When he gets to civilization, he immediately starts preying on women. In most versions of the story, the first woman he assaults turns into a vampire herself, then starts draining the blood of babies and children, recalling the many examples of supposed blood libel used to excuse antisemitic violence throughout the previous centuries. When the character of Mina Harker (called Ellen Hutter in Nosferatu) is finally penetrated by the count, she declares that her blood is “unclean.” The Count’s curse demands that he sleep each night in the earth of his origin, but he comes up with a sneaky loophole by packing several coffins filled with Transylvanian dirt. One way to interpret the Count’s actions is metaphorical: The immigrants are unwilling to assimilate and they taint our family lines and drag their traditions along with them from the old country. But on a much more literal level, it is quite bluntly blut und bloden, blood and soil, a Nazi rallying cry since the 1920s that, unfortunately, persists to this day.

While these symbolic plot elements exist in the 1897 novel, it was the 1922 German film that dialed them up, adding some undeniable antisemitic visual tropes. Count Orlok, compared to the Spirit Halloween-ready Count Dracula, has a hooked nose and rodent-like clutching hands, an exaggerated reinterpretation of the Count’s features compared to how they are described in Stoker’s book. (Lugosi’s Dracula from 1931 eases up on the visual stereotypes considerably, but he does wear a six-pointed star the first time we see him.)

Murnau also added a plague element to Nosferatu’s storyline. When the Count’s ship comes to Wisborg, it arrives with rats and a rapidly spreading sickness. This “verminization” goes hand-in-hand with the notion of the “dirty Jew.” It is believed that Julius Streicher, editor-in-chief of the Nazi mouthpiece Der Stürmer, was a fan of the film, and Hitler himself, in Mein Kampf, compared Jews to vampires.

So hold on a second, you are telling me that a major motion picture studio has released a work of antisemitic propaganda, and it’s in theaters right now? Do I need to send an angry letter? No, not at all. Please do not cancel Robert Eggers, one of the more brilliant directors on the scene today, whose take on Nosferatu tamps down the antisemitism. (This is his fourth film, following The Witch, The Lighthouse, and The Northman, all very sharp plays on genre storytelling, and all worth watching.). Now, Count Orlok just has a weird and striking nose, not a hook nose. He is also less of a schemer. He is compelled to come to Wisborg, as if it is part of his burdensome curse. If one were to ask, “Why make this movie again?” I’d say that, apart from the exemplary sets and performances and cinematography, Eggers emboldens the supernatural, psychosexual connection between the Count and Ellen. Yes, the town leaders of Wisborg—ostensibly the heroes—remain understandably xenophobic. But Eggers adds a top layer of tragedy, by making the subtext text: The Count and Ellen should be able to get their telepathic freak on, but the social codes of the 1830s are so stifling that even the Prince of Darkness can’t fight them. This creates a tension to the story (and its anti-immigration strain) that feels entirely new.

Considering that hardly anyone watching the new Nosferatu will be unfamiliar with vampire tropes, Eggers is well within his rights to essentially copy-paste elements from the more problematic version and build on it. The added shading, leaving the audience wondering if maybe the Count isn’t such a villain, is enough nuance to keep this from feeling like a definitive political statement. After all, the first thing you’ll likely talk about after seeing it is Ellen’s (Lily-Rose Depp) several moments of bed-ridden, prurient murmuring “he’s coming!” from a dream-like haze. For a director who has made three sharp movies dealing with the supernatural or fantastic, this story is in Eggers’ blood.

10 Vampire Streaming Recommendations

Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (1922), dir. F.W. Murnau: The original nightmare.

Dracula (1931), dir. Tod Browning: The birth of a franchise. Warning: Though there are many classic moments, much of this movie is dull.

Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968), dir. Freddie Francis: The third Christopher Lee Dracula picture, and one that likely influenced the new one—as it was, for its time, a bit on the randy side.

Blacula (1972), dir. William Crain: An 18th century African prince is transformed into a vampire by Count Dracula himself, and ends up in 1970s Los Angeles. Released during the first wave of blaxploitation films, this was the first one to get supernatural.

Love at First Bite (1979), dir. Stan Dragoti: The Count comes to groovy New York and is faced with nonstop schtick. Richard Benjamin plays the famed vampire hunter Van Helsing’s grandson, a neurotic shrink named Dr. Jeffrey Rosenberg.

Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979), dir. Werner Herzog: Before Eggers, there was this German-language take focusing on Count Orlok. A slow-paced film that goes heavy on the plague storyline, featuring a substantial number of rats.

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992), dir. Francis Ford Coppola: Gen X Dracula, with Winona Ryder, Gary Oldman, and Keanu Reeves.

Thirst (2009), dir. Park Chan-wook: Not a Dracula film, but an unpredictable spin on the vampire myth from one of South Korea’s great filmmakers.

Only Lovers Left Alive (2013), dir. Jim Jarmusch: Cinema’s king of deadpan cool presents artists and rock musicians as vampires eternally on the fringes of society. (A documentary?)

El Conde (2023), dir. Pablo Larraín: Perhaps of particular interest to Foreign Policy readers, this Spanish-language picture, available on Netflix, suggests that Augusto Pinochet was actually a vampire, and takes it from there.

[stevesjockstrap]

Butter Him Up

🎁 Merry Christmas to @eddiethehunted who asked for nasty feral linecook!Eddie smut - props to you for answering smut questions in front of your grandma

Steve/Eddie • rated: E • vague timeline, no UD, inappropriate use of a staff bathroom, come and Steve’s uniform tie 🫠 now on ao3

When he’d applied for the job at the restaurant, he assumed it would be like working at Scoops or the movie theater, people order food and he gave it to them. He could handle that. Steve wasn’t a stranger to an embarrassing outfit, either. This one wasn’t even embarrassing, really. He actually liked the button down and tie, the half apron with big pockets.

The real issue was Eddie. The line cook.

Eddie made him feel like he was doing everything wrong, always asking him questions about his tickets or confusing him about sides and substitutions. He leered at him and made comments about his uniform like every other server wasn’t wearing the same exact thing. It made him crazy.

But when he walked into the kitchen, Eddie wasn’t there.

“Hey Jon, where’s Eddie tonight?” He asked, trying to keep his voice casual as he punched in.

“Their band had a gig, out in Indy, I think Gareth said. You’re going to have to make do with the rest of us tonight,” he sent him a wry smile.

Steve huffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon threw a towel over his shoulder and came closer to the counter, still giving him a sly smile. “We all see you two dancing around each other, man. It’s entertaining. Be careful there, he’s not known for his, uh, tenderness,” he chuckled.

Steve blinked. “Um. Okay? I’m not interested in anything with Eddie, alright?”

“Sure, Steve, whatever you say.”

It wasn’t until a few hours later that it hit him.

He did like it. Liked Eddie ‘dancing around him,’ like Jonathan said. He’d always been sort of an attention whore and tonight he felt off, unsteady without Eddie infuriating him with his comments and constantly feeling his eyes on him. On his ass.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he filled up water cups. What was he going to do about this?

“Heard you missed me yesterday, big boy,” Eddie jeered at him.

He took a moment to really look at him, a wild smile all teeth and tongue, metal shining from his lips and eyebrow and nose, tattoos across his throat and down his forearms where his own white button down was rolled up. Steve wanted to yank his hair out of the pile on top of his head. Oh.

“Sure did, Eds,” he replied with a quick wink.

He watched with satisfaction as a shock wave went though Eddie’s features, not expecting the pushback.

It didn’t seem to stop the comments or all the eye fucking, which Steve was now expecting and then maybe encouraging.

“Doll face, if they have an egg allergy they can’t have the Caesar dressing. Go see what they want.”

“Hey sweet cheeks, this appetizer for table 23 has been here longer than you’ve worked here, can you go take it to them?”

Steve put a swing to his hips as he took the plate with a smile and headed back to the front. He thought maybe there was a crash behind him as the door swung shut. He smirked to himself.

After the big dinner rush, he punched in his own shift meal and stood watching as Eddie got the ticket.

“You going on break, babydoll?”

“Yeah, you gunna come?”

There was a cut off sound and Gareth snickered next to him at the line.

By the time he was shoved into the staff bathroom, Eddie seemed to have recovered his attitude.

Big hands grabbed at his ass, and Eddie groaned into his ear. “Shit, Stevie. You’ve been teasing me with this ridiculous ass of yours forever.”

“Uh huh,” he gasped as he was pulled forward roughly and their hard lengths rubbed against each other, a hot mouth finding his neck. Eddie already had him wound so tight and he felt like he was going to explode. “Please-“

“I know, sweets. You’re already so desperate, huh?”

Steve whined as his apron was untied and thrown, his shirt rucked out of his pants so hands could work their way down the back of them to grab a handful.

Then he was quickly pushed away as Eddie ordered, “Down on your knees, I think, darlin’. There’s a good boy. Need those lips around me. Shut you up good, huh?”

Steve was quick to comply, just as ready to sink down onto his knees for him. They both fumbled with his belt and zipper, Eddie finally slapping his hands away and yanking his boxers under his balls.

Eddie’s dick was big, and already so hard, precome beading at the head. His mouth watered and he immediately opened it and stuck his tongue out.

“Such a cock slut, aren’t you, pretty? Yeah, you need it so bad, don’t you?”

He nodded, tongue still out as Eddie held his cock just out of reach for another moment before tapping it onto his tongue. Steve went up on his knees, trying to push further down on his length and received a few inches for his trouble. Hands came around the back of his head to rake through his hair and he moaned around him. Suddenly the hands pulled him roughly up, shoving his length down his throat. He gagged and tears sprung to his eyes.

“That’s it, shit, the mouth on you. Ah-”

Steve tried to suck in breaths through his nose as Eddie pulled him back and forth, licking around the head and keeping his teeth out of the way while his throat was fucked open on his gorgeous cock.

Suddenly he needed something else. He slid back and looked up, gasping out, “Fuck me, Eddie, please-“

“Jesus Christ, Stevie. Of course. Get up here.”

Eddie yanked him to his feet and pushed him against the sink. He made quick work of his fly, letting his pants slide down his legs.

“So wet for me already, pretty. Turn around. That’s it.”

When he found himself bent over the sink, some small semblance of sense sparked in his brain. “Lube,” he gasped. He couldn’t string a sentence together to save his life right now. “I-“ he shook his head.

“Got it, sweets. Been carrying it around since your second day here. I’ve fantasized about you spreading your legs for me every day since then.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. Why was that hot?

“Yeah, dreamed about bending you over the bar and letting the whole place watch.” Eddie grabbed handfuls of his ass again quickly before yanking his underwear down. They both groaned when he pulled his cheeks apart and spit directly onto him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he whined as fingers rubbed the wetness around his rim. “C’mon, Ed-“

“You gunna let me in this tight little hole?” Eddie taunted. He must’ve added some lube before he pushed a finger in roughly, Steve raising up on his toes with a squeak. “That’s it, gotta stretch you out for this big cock.”

“Oh my god.”

“Just Eddie works, sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly.

Steve shuddered, the condescending tone sending him further to the stratosphere. He arched his back as he added another finger. “You are- ah- such a dick!” He said between clenched teeth.

“Sure am, baby. And you love it. Think I’m gunna come all over this ass. Rub it in and let you walk around with me all over you as you finish your shift. How’s that sound, my little slut?”

He, naturally, decided then to press solidly against his prostate and Steve lost the plot of the conversation again, only able to gasp and groan as another finger was introduced to his entrance. He pushed back against it, trying to hurry him up. For someone ‘not known for their tenderness’ he sure was taking his time in his preparation.

“Such a little slut, Stevie. I know, I know, we’re getting there. Hold your horses.”

Finally, there was a blunt wet head pushing against his rim and he moaned as it popped in.

“Mmm, you gunna be loud for me, baby? Let the whole place know you’re getting what’s coming to you?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t ideal for his job or reputation, but the rest of him thought that was a great plan. Nodding and whining since he couldn’t get any words to come out, Eddie chuckling at him.

Now he realized the prep he’d thought was excessive was necessary and almost cursory, as Eddie continued to press forward and his dick stretched him impossibly. He whimpered and gasped, Eddie pulling him upright and he got to watch them in the mirror as he finally bottomed out inside of him.

“Holy fuck,” Steve breathed. Thankfully Eddie took pity on him and gave him a moment to adjust, mouthing down his neck to his collar.

With a smirk, he pulled out, looking pointedly down between them, probably knowing Steve was watching in the mirror.

“Your greedy little hole is sucking me right back in, darlin’- oh fuck- so fucking tight,” Eddie rambled.

He shoved back in and rubbed over his prostate, making Steve shake and arch his back for more. His head dropped forward and he heard a tsk from behind him.

With a grin, Eddie grabbed the tie around his neck, spinning it around and wrapping it around his fist, using it to keep him from falling forward. The threat and the tightness around his throat made his dick twitch and he automatically wrapped a hand around himself.

His arms were suddenly pulled back and Eddie held onto his wrists in the small of his back.

“Uh uh, greedy. You’re gunna wait. Think you can come just from my cock? Huh?”

Steve wailed as the angle changed and his prostate was nailed again and again, pulled around like a rag doll as Eddie held onto his wrists and his hip. He didn’t know how he was even still standing, his legs shaking under him.

“Christ, I knew your ass would be magnificent, doll face,” Eddie huffed into his ear. “Look at you, so drunk on my cock you don’t even know which way is up, poor baby.”

Steve cracked an eye open and tried to make sense of what he was seeing in the mirror, his own flushed cheeks, mouth open, tear tracks and drool making a mess of his face. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead and sticking up where Eddie had raked his hands through it. He looked completely fucked.

The heat in his belly coiled tighter and he gasped out, “Cl-close, Eds!”

“Me too, sweetheart. C’mon, come for me and I’ll decorate this perfect ass of yours.”

Something must’ve shown on his face or Eddie just instinctively knew what he needed but he watched as the tattooed arm left his hip and his hand wrapped around his neck, pressing just right on the sides.

His eyes rolled back and he may have screamed as his orgasm shot through him, his hips rolling forward and back through the aftershocks. Eddie growled in his ear as he continued fucking him through it as he clenched around him.

“So fucking good, Stevie,” he hissed before pulling out roughly.

His wrists were released and he miraculously caught himself as he dropped forward onto the sink, able to see just Eddie’s face as he jerked himself off above him.

“Oh fuck, can’t wait to see you shaking this ass around for everyone, knowing it’s covered in me, ah- all mine.” He grunted lowly and Steve gasped again as he felt the hot splashes against his back and down his cheeks. Big hands immediately started rubbing it in, making sure to cover every inch and down his crack.

“Pull your pants up, slut,” he growled.

After barely making it through the rest of his shift, he wasn’t surprised when Eddie met him at the back door. “Your place or mine, baby cakes?”

Gareth ran to Jonathan’s car as he pulled in for his shift the next afternoon, “You owe me fifty bucks!” He held out his hand with a wide smile.

“Fuck!”

[mjrtaurus]

Monkey D Urpi headcanons (source: Oda shared it with me in a dream)

- She’s gotta be atleast 6 or 7 feet tall for logistic reasons yes but also because Tall Women ❤️

- Idrk how face claims work but I imagine her to look something like Simone Ashley

- As all other members of the Monkey family do, she’s got a scar on the left side of her face

- A tattoo that wraps around her wrist, almost like a bracelet

- Her and Garp are 2-3 years apart in age (they’re beating the weird age gap grandparents allegations fr)

- Hips length hair. At least 25% of Garp's paycheck gets put into hair care, hair ties, combs/brushes and lint rollers, he'd never ask his family to change but god does it get EVERYWHERE.

- She was the one to make the first move officially (had asked Garp to accompany to a cafe she had gotten a flyer to, face turned away to hide the flush settling on.)

- Big reader, mostly on the varying plants and ecosystems of the different islands on the Grandline and occasionally dips into the mythology of the Blue Sea (just to see what else they got wrong)

- Do not bring up Noland the Liar around her, whatever’s in her hand will shatter and she’ll begin to mutter very quickly under her breathe

- Skilled fighter but actively hates having to fight. It’s less about being scared for and more perpetuating a cycle, violence will only bred more violence. It has its uses but she’d rather not use it at all

- Garp made the mistake of asking her to join the Marines exactly once. The look she gave him was so venomous the topic of enlisting wasn’t brought up again until Dragon was born.

- Has possessed Mantra/Observation Haki from incredibly an early age and developed Armament Haki through training with Garp

- Instantly goes into mother mode around younger people. Physically cannot help it. She just has to dote on them. Definitely takes it up a notch when she’s grandmother age

- Would certainly approve of the ASL's dreams of being pirates/revolutionaries. Who is she to stand in the way of their search for Freedom?

- She and Crocodile get along swimmingly! They discuss mushroom foraging and she shows him all the best for it on Elbaf!

- Consistently refers to Kuzan as her ‘second born’ before someone (usually Sengoku) reminds her that she did not in fact birth him. She would agree and then do the same thing the very next day.

- Big fan of the newspaper since it keeps her up to date on the happenings of her family. Keeps all issues they are mentioned in pristine condition and chronological order.

- Gets intense waves of guilt for ‘leaving her people behind’ and would often wonder if she deserves that happiness she found here.

- Has no inherent ill feelings towards Gan Fall anymore but definitely didn’t like him back then. She’s still a little taken aback when Luffy mentions what a help he was during his time in Skypiea

- Is relentless in her pride of Dragon and everything he has accomplished. She had watched him grow from a sweet little boy who cried when a Den Den Mushi had to be decommissioned to a man who was out to save the world. He is her every wildest wish come true.

Taking down these notes because I might just have to put her on a canvas at some point.

Some additions I would also like to add!

- her surprising proficiency for Mantra/Observation Haki was inherited by Dragon, and she helped him train it.

- When Dragon found her on Elbaf (and let’s say after the WG falls to hell where it belongs) he makes time to take her and Garp to Shandora to hear the Bell that their grandson reclaimed.

- While up there, she reunites with her little sister Nina, and meets her grandnephew Wyper.

- she always had mixed feelings about Dragon joining the marines, but she understood his heart was in the right place. Shame the rest of the Navy couldn’t say the same.

- Dragon’s desertion was a hard time for everyone, but they all knew it was inevitable. Her boy would climb higher and higher in the ranks, and his eyes would have less and less of their warmth. By the time he attained the rank of Admiral, there was hardly anything of her sweet, gentle soul of a son left. It tore her and Garp’s heart to shreds.

- Dragon’s desertion was a planned thing. He had been stationed at Ohara to oversee an expedition, and he had seen the archaeologists be given bounties for the sin of doing their job. He showed up on his parent’s doorstep in the dead of night to tell them he was going to have to be on the run from now on. Urpi gave him her earrings. They are the only thing she had left that had survived her fall from Skypiea and her journey across the seas. They would go with him now on his journey.

- The bounty posters that had been released of Nico Robin following Ohara’s destruction gave her pause. Dragon had mentioned working with a Nico Olvia during this expedition, this child certainly looked like her mother if you looked at the bounty posters side by side but… her complexion, the coloration of her hair… a quick tally of the dates and she can’t help but wonder if she inherited her father’s wings, too.

- when she saw Dragon again after so long, she hugged his neck. His eyes were warm again. He had his hope again. It was tempered with Nika knew how many trials, but he was still the loving little boy with the downy wings that she sang to sleep every night so many years ago…

- she was intrigued by Crocodile. She had heard these “devil fruits” could do wonderful things, but to change a body to match the soul within it… it was incredible. To know her son had helped set this man on that path to change made her wings fluff up with pride. She wishes she could have met Olvia, too.

- after coming to Elbaf, she NEVER covers her wings. She cuts holes in the backs of her clothes for them to fit through, sews clothes using patterns and stitches she knows by heart… as much as she lover Garp, Goa had been stifling. Upon seeing the cuts and mends in the backs of Dragons shirts when he visits, she can tell he suffered the same.

[tenebriskukris]

Oshi No Ko Chapter 151 - My Thoughts/Analysis

It’s another setup chapter but we’re still in the beginning of a new arc so that’s to be expected. As always, spoilers for Oshi No Ko Ch 151 below.

The chapter starts with what I can only describe as the narrative glazing Kana’s acting skills. Aside from the fact that it shows that she’s recently premiered in that movie that Shima directed, it really isn’t necessary. The timeline of this manga has always been stuck in some nebulous mess of uncertainty for long enough that it could have been inserted anywhere within the last few chapters or so with ease.

Of course this entire montage of showing how good Kana’s acting ability actually is would ring a lot more true if she didn’t whore herself out to Shima in order to get a role. Much as I dislike how that entire situation went for Kana—and so much of that small mini arc in general—it undercuts Kana’s skills as an actor if her big break was because of Shima taking pity on Kana. Akane and Ruby were able to secure acting jobs without going to those lengths and were able to reach greater heights of popularity without it, so why can’t Kana achieve those same heights without couch casting?

Now that I think about it, I don’t think we’ve actually seen Kana get a role through her own efforts alone. The Sweet Today role was because Kaburagi was taking advantage of Kana in general as an actor; her role in Tokyo Blade was because he wanted to play both Kana and Akane off of each other, and even her role in the movie was because Kaburagi pulled some strings to get her on board. Even the intermission that focused on Kana and Akane basically reeked of industry nepotism, and I don’t need to reiterate what Kana was about to do to secure a role from Shima.

My thoughts on Kana’s acting ability aside, we settle on Kana and Aqua’s “date”. Kana wearing her old uniform even after she’s graduated is uh—a choice. That’s certainly some form of cosplay.

Aqua being surprised that this entire meeting is a date is—well. Kana I think if you want to actually make a play for Aqua you need to actually tell this shit to him beforehand. As far as he knows this is a casual outing with one of his friends. I expected her to do something a bit different when faced with the prospect of actually wooing Aqua, more specifically trying to actually take steps to woo him. Maybe I gave Kana too much credit. Akane’s manipulations aside, she hasn’t intentionally taken many steps to actually steer Aqua into considering her as a romantic partner in the series.

The baseball scene??? Now that’s a callback. I’m starting to see where Kana is heading with this whole mess. While Kana may look back at that time as a casual moment between two like minded people, it’s also the time where Aqua tried to vent some of his frustrations of his own Issues(™) and Kana quite easily rebuked them in favor of talking about romantic prospects. After that encounter, it doesn’t escape my gaze that Aqua hasn’t talked to Kana about his own Issues unless heavily pressed.

Oooooh future talk. Kind of hypocritical from the child actor that didn’t take steps to get into college to press people about their own future, but I don’t mean to pick at an old wound since it’s the equivalent of Kana making small talk. And Aqua’s thinking of applying to medical school??? We’d seen some similar implications go through his head during one of the interludes, but it’s nice to finally get some form of confirmation that he’s at least thought about a life after his revenge—even if he is just saying this to get Kana off his back.

Kana unintentionally dredging up Aqua’s trauma with her whole speech here. It’s a sight better than how she intentionally triggered him in Tokyo Blade, but I’m sure that doesn’t make Aqua feel much better. 

Aqua covering his face when confronted with Kana’s insight is cute, I gotta admit. The fact that it hides his star eyes in this panel here is also noteworthy. 

That dream came true when I was five years old. And Kana suffered through a dry spell in spite of it—or arguably because of it. Perhaps she can look at things with hindsight now that she’s managed to carve out a certain niche for herself in the industry but we know that Kana isn’t there just yet. Frill is a perfect example of what someone at the top of the industry looks like, and I don’t think anyone else in our cast aside from maybe Taiki is there just yet. One good movie and a small hint of stardom does not a national actress make. 

In fairness to Kana, her saying that she’s achieved her dream is a very in-character thing for her to do. Time and time again we’ve seen her immaturity and naivete undercut everything she sets out to achieve. Her inability to realize that she was being taken advantage of by Kaburagi in the earlier parts of the manga; the fact that she wasn’t able to remain professional with Aqua when he was avoiding her; her attempts to secure a role with Shima despite knowing his nature full well—the list goes on. If she really thinks that she’s become a national actress after tasting just a hint of success then that just plays into Kana’s faults even further.

I have a new dream now. I want to be the only person you look at. I couldn’t quite help but laugh as soon as Kana said this. Okay Kana, you want to be Aqua's idol? What have you done to actually achieve that? Because you have some gigantic shoes to fill in the form of Ai and Rubysarina. Her entire arc throughout the story has been towards actually being a successful actress, so this pivot leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t even like Kana as a character and I’m complaining that this entire interaction did her dirty! 

The fact that Aqua didn’t even catch Kana’s baseball when she’s said this has to be some of the most godawful hit you over the head symbolism I’ve even seen from the series. There are college writing students out there that wouldn’t pull stuff like this even if they were held up at gunpoint! You’d think that an actual published series like this would have editors that strike this shit down but apparently not.

It’s not because of the fact that this metaphor it’s simple that irks me as much as it does. It’s the fact that it’s so obvious that it basically spells out that Kana’s attempts at trying to become Aqua’s star are going to be flushed down the toilet. In terms of being an idol, Kana hasn’t done anything else to engender Aqua’s devotion. As Aqua’s friend, she’s certainly become an important aspect of his life, but not so much in terms of being an idol. She does not inspire or drive Aqua’s motivations in the way an idol should—at least in my opinion.

What a fucking chapter. I’m just glad there isn’t a break next week so we can quickly see how this mess is going to turn out. At this point I just want some goddamn consequences to happen to Kana so having her lose Aqua basically sitting on her hands for the entire series is some good fucking karma. Crying and bitching about one’s love life constantly is absolutely not the characteristic of someone going to win it all as the series reaches its endgame.

I was actually surprised that there was so much talk about Kana grabbing death flags in this chapter. I mean, really, it’s like everyone forgot that most of the main cast has contractual immortality until after the interviews. Even then, Kana really hasn’t been important enough to the story since Tokyo Blade to justify any purpose of her dying aside from shock value. Even if there was something like that planned out for the next few chapters, the tension is going to be undercut knowing that most of the main cast is going to survive without any issue.

Once again the elephant in the room has to be Ruby. It’s kind of difficult to root for Kana in this instance—even besides all the reasons I’d listed so far—because we still don’t know what Aqua thinks about the kiss in Chapter 143. Anything regarding romance is stuck in a pool of indecision since that chapter and it simultaneously undercuts everything the narrative is trying to even do with Kana and Akane’s efforts to woo Aqua while leaving the actual plot of the story on the wayside. I just hope that we’ll be getting a peek into Aqua’s head while we’re unfortunately saddled back in with this romance plotline.

[completelydaft]

Vincent Renzi backstory (by bridvicious 🤡)

~ i made this in a hurry, and so there could be some inaccuracies with certain aspects, so pls ignore lol ~

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!!mention of murder!!

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Vincent Renzi was an only child, and lived with his mother, and his father was not in his life as he had left his mother for another woman. He had abandonment issues after what happened with his dad, who most likely went on to father more children. While having no contact with his father, this only brought him and his mother closer.

He was misunderstood by many people around him, as he was quiet, didn’t really like to socialize, and while studying, not many people really got to know him. In order to ‘fit in’ with the crowd when he felt out of place, he took up a smoking habit, which he still has to this day.

Vincent had soft brown hair, which he often let grow to the point where his mother would have to trim it for him. His blue eyes and smile would exude a warmth that you would think the girls would be falling under his spell.

However not many girls were into him. There were the odd few, who liked Vincent for his caring nature, however when they found someone ‘cooler’ they would leave Vincent for them. This made Vincent give up on love life and so he put his focus into studying.

He had a very good friend in high school, his name was Raphaël and they both liked movies, studying, and trying to get good grades. When Vincent was 16, Raphaël was found dead in an alleyway. Vincent had never felt grief so hard, and spent his nights wanting to find evidence.

This led Vincent into trying to figure out how he died, and most importantly, have justice for his family. There was a big court case regarding this. And Vincent attended every court hearing. Watching how the court worked, the judges, the intricacies of everything being analyzed, intrigued Vincent. And after Raphaël’s killer was found and sentenced, he was enthralled by the process. This gave Vincent the realization that he should get into criminal law.

By the time he was 18, his efforts had rewarded him a scholarship for criminal law at King’s College in London. He had never been to London before, and his English wasn’t the best, but him and Raphaël were hoping to go to London one day. To study, or even just go to a different country. He wanted to make him proud.

Upon arriving to London, his nerves made him unable to talk to many people, as his English was limited and he felt uncomfortable. To improve his English, he took classes at the college.

There were people there from all over the world who were studying many different degrees on top of this. He sat alone at the back of the classroom, and kept to himself. There was another girl also at the back of the classroom, on the other side. The teacher asked if they could sit closer towards the front, as she was unsure if they would hear her at the back as they were both further away from the rest of the students, who were now looking back at them both.

They looked at each other, the girl’s cheeks burning bright red with embarrassment. Vincent looked at the teacher, then the girl. He decided to pick up his bag and sit where the teacher gestured, just to comply.

As he sat down, in the corner of his eye he saw the girl sit a few chairs away from him. She had bright blue eyes, shoulder length dark blonde hair, and wore a white sweatshirt. She looked visibly anxious, and Vincent tried not to disturb her. However they both kept catching each other glancing at one another. Both of their faces red each time it happened. It was like they were compelled to try to speak to each other, like they finally understood someone else who struggled with socializing, plus the anxiety of being from a different country, and feeling the dread of being misunderstood. And by the end of that time during the first class, they relaxed.

He coyly asked her for her name after class was over. “Sandra.” was her reply, with a slight accent. Not French, which he picked up on straight away. “And yours?”

He pauses.

“…Vincent” he replied in his thick French accent. Sandra’s eyes lit up as she smiled. Vincent looked up at her, embarrassed. “French?” she asks, her eyes sparkling. Vincent laughs at her correct guess.

“How did you know?”

“Well…I just… knew.” She says, smiling. “Guess where I am from.”

Vincent pauses and thinks. Squinting his eyes, he slowly says “Ger…many?”

Sandra’s eyebrows raise in surprise “Well done, you got it right!”

Vincent relaxes as he realizes he feels comfortable around Sandra’s presence. They look at each other warmly, then they realize they need to go to their next classes.

Vincent reaches out his hand, slyly.

“See you next time, Sandra.”

“See you next time, Vincent.”

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

Clawing at the bars of my cage did anyone order some pirates?!? Because guess what !!! Chapter number one (1) of my temeraire-inspired pirate book. Full of swashbuckling adventure et cetera et cetera. I don’t know what to say ! But I am VERY excited to share this and a big big thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it. I’m a little nervous but I will prevail.

***

Chapter I

Linsey leaned back on his heels, examining the merchant ship before him; the deck was slippery with sea water, heaving softly in the sea, dipping into the rising crests of each wave. His coat was similarly soaked, from passing rain and ocean spray both; he wiped his hands over his shirt and face as he surveyed the deck. The ship had not shown much resistance: her crew had surrendered willingly as Linsey’s own drew up alongside them, as most did, and in short it was merely a matter of boarding the thing; the weather proved more trouble than the ship itself. It was a strangely pleasant victory, if it could be called a victory at all; the ease at which his crew had taken the ship felt almost pitiful, Linsey found it somewhat disgraceful to congratulate himself.

The men had set to work immediately, rounding the passengers onto the deck and dividing the work among themselves with practiced ease and discipline. There had been some trouble, in the moment they had boarded, when a young man, overcome with panic, had bodily attempted to tackle the first men aboard; he had been restrained and taken as prisoner aboard the Delight, and the rest of his men were scared mostly into frightened silence afterwards.

Linsey took the moment of solitude to observe the waves. His crew were occupied, working to move their earnings aboard the Delight. They had no need for his command at present; he had absolute control only in battle, and the men were competent enough within themselves, so he had set himself to surveying the movements of their stores, and offering his help when the weather proved itself some trouble. They made quick work of it; Linsey looked on with great pride, and thought with satisfaction that there would be no difficulty keeping stores until they next drew to port.

“Hayes,” Linsey said, catching the man’s attention; he was just coming up from the hold, and looking rather queasy. At Linsey’s call, he came to the railing at his side, and hardly offered his regards, otherwise wholly occupied in his thoughts. “Hayes, man, what’s the matter with you?”

“Captain,” Hayes said, at length. “Mr. Grayson has called for you, there is something in the hold.”

“Mr. Grayson?” Linsey said, his satisfaction turning gradually to unease. “Did he say much else?”

“Only that I am not to tell you what it is, that you should like to see for yourself.”

“Oh? I’ll go down shortly,” Linsey said, “Though if you cannot tell me anything, you might at least take a moment to gather yourself, man,” He added, noting the pale look of Hayes’ expression. “You look as if you’ll collapse.”

Hayes did not immediately respond; he looked at Linsey with a helpless expression. He was still a young man, barely past his schoolroom years, and though he had taken to the seas with impressive enthusiasm, he had hardly been with the crew for more than a handful of months, and was not accustomed to the sea-faring life in the same such way as the other men. Linsey could not condemn him for it; still he hesitated, and finally issued a weak salute, with a look just short of relief.

Satisfied, Linsey gave a short nod and went below deck, not before giving Hammond, the sailing-master, word of his whereabouts.

He descended carefully, and found Grayson waiting for him, with his quartermaster at his side. Richard’s face was oddly pale, much like Hayes’ own; Linsey smiled when he saw him, and nodded to Grayson, though found it hard to hide his own rising concern as he followed his men towards the stern area of the hold.

“What’s this now?” Linsey said; the hold was near dark, and dimly lit, with only a handful of lanterns clustered about the far corner, in such a way that hardly offered any light at all.

“Quiet,” Grayson said, at which Linsey raised his brow in mild surprise; Grayson amended himself at once, “I am very sorry, Captain, I mean no offence. But please,”

Linsey looked to Richards, who only frowned.

“Captain, if you will step this way,” Grayson said. “Just there,” He indicated what Linsey now saw was a small nook, sheltered with walls of empty crates and lit only by the lanterns set at its sides. The walls were built in such a way that made it near impossible to see, if one was only checking the hold, Linsey could not help but feel the liveliest curiosity, overcome at once by quiet unease. He looked to Grayson, who nodded shortly, and stepped inside.

From within, the chamber seemed nearly comfortable, though strange and substitute in its appearance. The walls were lines with panels of wood, propped against the crates to keep warmth, and floor was padded with old sailcloth; it was almost like a cabin, though seemed too small to house any man. The sailcloth was bundled oddly in places, and in the very centre of it, near buried among the fabrics, lay a pale-faced boy.

In silence, Linsey stared. The boy was dead, there was nothing to be done about it; he looked scarcely older than the boys of his crew. they shared his round face and soft hands, but where their cheeks were rosy and full of life, his were pale and sickly, and held no colour at all.

“A stowaway, Captain, he must be,” said Grayson quietly, from behind him. Linsey held his gaze at the dead boy for a moment’s pause, and then blinked and looked instead to Richards, at his other side.

“Richards?” He said.

Richards nodded, looking solemn. “He must be.” He said, very softly, as though afraid to speak, lest he wake the boy.

Linsey nodded in turn, to Richards and then Grayson afterwards, and pressed his lips to a thin line. No one spoke; indeed, no one dared speak, least not Linsey himself, reluctant to break the silence of mourning.

Indeed, it was peculiar; the boy had no visible marks on his face or wrists, only the deep lines under his eyes, and the cracking at his lips. The ship could only have been sailing for no less than a week, and it did not seem as if he had died of late; it was only unfortunate that no one had found him before. More peculiar, though, were the fragments buried in the sailcloth around his hands; Linsey looked closer, and saw with surprise that it was the remains of an eggshell, pale in the dim lantern light, and scarcely smaller than a boy.

“God, men,” He said, “Look.”

Richards craned his head to see; Linsey heard his sharp intake of breath, and then at once he was quiet. “A dragon egg, Captain?” He said at last, in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

Linsey blinked at him in surprise; indeed, it was a possibility he had considered, but to hear it said aloud was alarming, even more so than the shell itself. He covered his shock, with some difficulty, and looked to the eggshell; the warmth of the lantern light turned it near translucent, it scarcely even looked real, and Linsey could not be wholly sure if he had not hallucinated it all.

“Grayson?” He said eventually, swallowing thickly; his mouth felt suddenly dry. “Is it?”

Grayson nodded. “It must be, Captain, no bird could lay an egg so big,” He said quietly; his voice sounded strained, as though he was struggling to hide his amazement. Linsey could not help but feel a similar awe in looking at the shell; many men would count themselves blessed to see a dragon egg, to be close enough to touch its shell was another, rarer thing entirely. “No, it must be, but God knows how he came to be with it.” Grayson added.

Linsey paused and looked at the boy, his awe turning quickly to apprehension. “A better question, Grayson; where the devil has the hatchling found itself?”

Neither of the men spoke; Linsey was silent himself, all trace of his amazement gone in place of unease. If the boy had indeed stolen the egg, he must have meant to make across the ship’s voyage before it hatched; it was only a tremendous stroke of misfortune that he had died so soon afterwards, and that the egg had hatched without anyone to oversee its harnessing. The newborn might be anywhere across the Atlantic now, or perhaps even further, if it were of a swifter breed. Linsey squinted at the egg — he had very little knowledge on dragon breeds, and even less so on their eggs; he could not be wholly sure what sort had hatched from this shell. Indeed, he supposed it would not have made much of a difference; the dragonet was gone, with no handler or harness, it had likely gone feral, and would be of no use to anyone now, if it could ever be found at all.

“A shame, then, a damned shame,” He said, “It would have been famous to add a dragon to our holdings, men, would it not?”

The men gave a subdued murmur, then Richards said, “And what about the boy, Captain?”

“Oh.” Linsey looked to the dead boy, curled silently among his sailcloth, a pale face shining in the dim lantern light. “Take him up, and throw him overboard. Gently, and be sure the crew do not see.”

Richards nodded, and Grayson bent to lift the boy, wrapping him surely in the cloths with the eggshell bundled inside. Linsey went to the deck with Richards on his heels, Grayson behind; he did not watch when Grayson took the boy to the railing, and went instead to gather his men, thinking all the while of the dragon egg, and of the hatchling lost so surely to the sea.

Their earnings being safely deposited in the hold of the Delight, brought abreast while they boarded, Linsey took his own leave of the merchant ship, and crossed from its deck on the swell of the first wave. His men had already gathered, Grayson having wiped his hands clean before joining them; they leaned over the railings and hollered in triumph as they disembarked. Linsey paid them no regard, and went directly below to make record of their holdings.

He had a quiet consultation with Hammond, who had set himself to overseeing the movements of their stores in Linsey’s absence, and looked scarcely more composed than the rest of the crew. He was red-faced and grinning broadly; when Linsey enquired of his health he only laughed, and told him their load was more than promising. Linsey clapped him on the shoulder, pleased, and all matters of the boy in the hold were forgotten at once.

With his matters seen to, and his spirits surely raised, Linsey returned to the deck just short of beaming, full of great good-will. He was at once swarmed with men clamouring to give him congratulations, many of them only boys, for whom this would be their first raid upon the Delight; Linsey smiled at their bright mood and shook their hands in turn, only glad their service had been rewarded so soon with an easy victory.

The only worry still held at the front of his mind was Hayes; Linsey had not seen him since he had called him to the hold. He had scarcely looked well enough to stand, and though Linsey had dismissed him, he felt some faint shame at not thinking to find him before now.

He found Hayes on the quarterdeck, and ascended with some relief; he was stood by the railing with a pair of officers no older than him, and looked not a little surprised to see the captain approach him so casually. “Captain?” He said.

“Hayes,” Linsey said, “Don’t worry, man, I’m not here to scold you; you remember I dismissed you at our prize ship, I trust you are feeling well?”

“Oh.” Hayes said, with noticeable relief, “Oh, yes, Captain, thank you—”

“Why, it’s the captain!” said another of the boys; Mr. Tomkins, he stood at the railing, beaming as much as the rest of the men, with Cates at his other side. Both men were bright-faced and pleased with themselves, though Cates at least looked somewhat regretful of the interruption on Tomkin’s behalf.

Linsey looked between them; Tomkins fell silent under his gaze, and then gave a sudden snort that passed for poorly hidden laughter. Cates shushed him; Linsey fixed them both with a sharp eye, and at once they were quiet, or near enough. He caught the anxious look on Hayes’ face, undoubtedly conscious of some private guilt; Linsey ignored him, and addressed both boys, now suspecting something of their intentions. “Quiet, men, what’s the matter with you?” He said sharply, “Mr. Tomkins?”

Tomkins was given no chance to answer, “Forgive me, Captain, Tomkins is only excited, and a damned fool to show it,” Cates said, grinning broadly, “But we're only curious; we’ve heard rumour, that there was something odd on that ship,”

“Aye, only rumour, Captain, but is it true?” Tomkins said.

Linsey ignored them both; he looked to Hayes, who did his best to look as though he had not noticed.

“Is it true, Captain?” prompted Cates, with all the composure he could summon, “That there was a dragon egg, in the hold, is it true?”

“I am sorry to say, I had hoped the men would keep it a secret for longer than this,” Linsey said, at length. He felt some apprehension at telling the boy; such an unpleasant thing would surely undermine his good mood. But he knew how rumours liked to spread, and on a ship such as this there was little doubt there would be no man who was not aware of the dragon egg, and whatever story Cates had been told would only worsen in being shared. “It is true, there was an egg; Grayson has told me it could only be a dragon’s,” he said, and both men made a pleased murmur. “Make of that what you will, but there was a boy with the egg, a stowaway. The egg has hatched, and the boy is dead. I trust you both will move on, or keep quiet, else I’ll find some other man more deserving of your shares.”

His command was clear; both men went quiet as Linsey passed a sharp look between them, and he assumed that was all on the matter.

But Tomkins looked suddenly proud, and could scarcely contain himself; he grinned, and said, “Reckon he might have hatched, Captain?”

Linsey felt himself go near red with anger. “You be quiet, Tomkins, and I’ll have none of that.” He snapped, “The poor boy is dead, and barely old enough to sail: you will pay your respects, damn it, or I’ll send you down to the hold with him.”

At once Tomkins paled, and went quiet under the sharp gleam in Linsey’s eye. Cates, at his other side, was hardly more composed himself; he stood rigid, and swallowed thickly, audible in his discomfort.

Tomkins was a sailor as much as he was a boy, and had made a good show of his skills aboard the Delight; Linsey rather thought he had proved himself many times over. But he knew just as well that his experience on deck far surpassed that of his manner, he was a young man, immature in his youth, and liked to make himself proud in the eyes of his peers — there had been moments before when he had forgotten his duties, in favour of making humour among the ship’s hands, and once he had near thrown himself from the rigging in attempt to impress the crew. But such a sentiment, if only made in good-will, was a clear show of disrespect, and though Linsey would have liked to keep Tomkins out of trouble, he could not forget the pale look of the boy in the hold, and found himself condemning the man with such sudden severity it surprised even himself.

Linsey glared, still simmering with anger, and addressed Tomkins sharply, “Make yourself grateful, Tomkins: you know better than to pass a good earning off as common. I see no reason for you to be standing about making taunts, you will set to your work at once, Cates with you.” He took a deep breath, and added only, “And see to it you never dare say such things again. You’ll get no share of our hold tonight.”

Tomkins gaped at him; he made a noise as if to protest, quickly put to rest when Cates elbowed him sharply. Linsey gave him silent thanks, and dismissed them both; they went without complaint, though Tomkins looked sullen, and Cates could be heard murmuring quietly to him, “It is a shame, isn’t it? That there was no hatchling.”

Linsey frowned a little at the thoughtlessness of youth; with rage subsided, he shook his head, and looked to Hayes. The man was watching the waves with resolute ignorance, hands clasped behind his back and trembling.

“Was it you who told them, Hayes?” Linsey said, though he already suspected Hayes’ answer.

“Yes, Captain, only I meant nothing by it.” Hayes said, “They were asking me what the matter was; I could not keep it a secret, but I only meant to give them a good story.

Linsey frowned; he was glad, at the very least, that the men had the sense to check on Hayes, and he supposed it was only unlucky that the duty of the matter had fallen to him, rather than one of the older men. In any case, there was nothing to be done about it now; he had dealt with the rumour, and the insolence it caused, and he felt some shame at dragging poor Hayes to any further trouble than he already had dealt with.

So he dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and said only, “Mr. Hayes, I trust you won’t be so foolish again.” Hayes went gratefully, with relief showing clear on his pale face; Linsey smiled after him, and stood at the railing with hands clasped behind his back, watching the turn of the waves and feeling rather pleased with himself.

The celebrations among the crew continued for the better part of a week, though their drunken songs were quickly made weary, and the men largely took to brawling. A week passed, and the ship was made mostly calm; the men still passed good-will between them when they worked, and the boys were excited at any shadow over the sea, but all had been set to rights upon the deck, or well enough.

Linsey found himself in good humour, a thing he thought rather uncommon; he had joined the crew in their feasts of salt beef and ship biscuits, and the occasional bass dredged up from the sea, and even once cheered when a pair of his men tussled upon the deck. Grayson had been the one to pull them apart, and Linsey had only clapped them both on the shoulder in great cheer, much to the delight of the crew.

Richards was leading a particularly lively shanty, stood upon chests taken up from the hold, when the first signs of storm swept over the waves. Linsey was stood at the railing of the quarterdeck, an involuntary smile catching at the corners of his mouth while he surveyed the crew; many of them were falling over themselves entirely, and laughing broadly, and despite himself Linsey could not help but join them. He was the first to catch the rain, and the chill that came with it; he called the men to hold, with some reluctance, and shortly they were at their duties, working with such mastery that Linsey felt at once overcome in his pride.

The rain picked up with all the ferocity of an oncoming gale; Linsey thought briefly it might break the ship in two, but the waves held no such strength as he had feared, and they settled upon the water with little trouble to the Delight but for the deep lurching of her deck with every swell. Richards gave his orders to the crew, and they set to fastening their holdings below; they came up afterwards and stood around upon the deck, pale and trembling, with their hair slicked through to the skin. Linsey sent them all below but for Richards and himself, and the helmsmen, watching the waves in near silence, and soaked through to the bone.

“Captain?” Richards called over the rain; Linsey blinked and turned to him, wholly occupied in his thoughts. “Captain, the crew tell me they have fastened the rigging, and all lies well below.”

“Thank you, Richards, very good.” Linsey said. It required an effort to keep his gaze from the sea; he wanted most to give Richards his attention, but the waves were choppy, increasingly so, and he was anxious to catch any change in their motions. The spray of every swell that broke against the hull was scarcely different from the rain beating upon his face; he stood rigid with face set in grave vigilance, surveying the water with great awe as much as discomfort. Indeed, he found the sea a glorious thing, impressive in its enormity, and if the storm had not stirred the waves with such sudden ferocity, then he would have watched it in quiet pleasure, and felt no shame in his enjoyment.

Richards’ voice was scarcely audible over the rain. “I only mean, Captain, that we might keep out of the rain, and this damned chill—”

He stopped quite abruptly — from the hold, there came a great uproar, and Linsey caught sight of some creature slipping out from the hatch in a flurry of motion. His first thought was that it must be a rat, or perhaps a gull of some sort, but it was much too large, and when it skittered across the deck he saw that it had scales, not feathers, washed out and shining in the rain.

The dragon came scrambling from the hold in a rush, with wings and tail thrown out wide; it paused for barely a moment on the deck, while rainwater trailed down its scaled hide, and Linsey saw the impressive curve of its wings, fluttering with every gust of wind thrown out across the sea. A moment passed, and the crew came piling out onto the deck after it, looking every bit as shocked as Linsey felt himself. Cates had Estella, the ship’s cat, in his arms; her fur was quickly soaked through to the skin, and she clung to the boy with every evidence of great alarm upon her small face.

No one spoke, in silence, Linsey stared at the creature; small as it was, it spat with such ferocity that Linsey thought at once of the sea itself, wild with the wind and rain, and paused in catching it. The spray of the waves came over the railing; the dragon shied away, wings spread out upon the deck, washed right through with seawater, and Linsey wondered briefly why it did not flee, or if it could even fly at all. “Richards?” He said, his voice just short of a whisper.

“A dragon, Captain,” Richards said. He gaped at the creature with all the awe of a boy; Linsey blinked at him.

“Yes, I’ve seen.” He said, and then summoned his strength and called, “Grayson, fetch me rope, and quickly.”

Grayson had been standing at the very front of the crowd; now he started, paused, and went to the hold at once. Linsey waited until he had returned, rope in hand, and stood still as he was able, though the ship rocked with every swell. The dragon blinked at him; Linsey noticed the spines along its back, which raised and flickered with every motion made. Grayson eyed it dubiously, and stopped an arm’s length away. Behind him, the crew watched with bated breath; Linsey crept slowly closer, though his legs protested when he crouched, and his hands trembled, whether from cold or fright, he could not be wholly sure.

“Grab him, Grayson,” He whispered, and seized the dragon in a sudden motion; he grabbed its snout, and forced it down with all the strength he could summon. The dragon shrieked and beat its wings against him; Grayson pulled away when its tail lashed upon the deck, and then grit his teeth and knelt with Linsey at the dragon’s side, throwing the rope around its frame and fastening it at the neck. His hands trembled as he made the knot, and Linsey’s own grew strained against the creature’s struggles; at once it was done, and both stepped hastily away, while the dragon writhed upon the deck.

Abruptly it went still; Linsey watched as it lay panting, and passed a hand over the smooth hide. The scales were cold against his skin, and surprisingly soft, and he found briefly that he could not bring himself to pull away.

“Captain?”

He turned and looked at Richards, then at the crew; no one spoke, and abruptly Linsey stood and brushed himself over, swallowing every bit of wonder that had passed in the moment.

Grayson still had a hold on the rope, quite uncertainly, and was eyeing the dragon with measurable unease. Linsey caught his attention with a wave of his hand and said, stiffly, “Grayson, take it below, find a cabin and fasten it there. Quickly.”

Grayson went without a word, though the dragon protested and spat when it was dragged to its feet. A murmur passed over the crew; they pushed to the side to let Grayson below, and some of the younger boys reached to touch the dragon’s hide, met immediately with whispered protests from the rest of the men.

Linsey watched in silence; he looked to Richards, who looked mostly uneasy. He held the man’s gaze for a moment’s pause, reluctant to look away, and then turned abruptly and went below, ignoring the whispers that followed from the crew.

He met Grayson at a cabin near the stern area of the ship; the man nodded as he approached, face set in a frown. “Captain,” He said, very quietly. Linsey paused at the cabin door, Grayson hovered at his shoulder; his unease was apparent, Linsey dismissed him quietly, and after a moment’s hesitation, he went inside.

The cabin was darker than he would have liked, the only light being that from a small lantern in the corner, which served more to throw shadows into odd places than offer any light at all. The dragon took no notice when he entered, or if it did it made no motion to show it, curled in a huddle with its tail wound tightly around itself.

Grayson had only done what was commanded of him, and he had done it well; the dragonet was fastened at the far wall, held by the rope tied at his neck. The other end had been wound many times over, and knotted at the hook of a hanging cot, hardly used since its occupants had taken their leave of the ship, some many months ago. Despite himself, Linsey felt suddenly shameful; the dragon was small, and near pitiful in the dim lantern light, Linsey felt wholly overcome with sudden regret, and it required an effort to not dismiss himself from the cabin at once.

Instead, he stood rigid, hands clasped tightly behind his back, lest he they begin to fidget in his unease. He set his face in a stiff frown, brow furrowed, and watched the dragonet in silence; it made no move, and he began to wonder if it had heard him at all, or perhaps it was asleep. Indeed, he was not wholly sure it was not dead; he felt a sudden burst of panic, surprising even to himself, and cleared his throat loudly, so that he might wake the creature, or at the very least alert it to his presence.

At once the dragonet raised its head; it blinked at him, with some odd sort of intelligence. Linsey thought for a moment it seemed almost curious, though the thought gave him a sense of unease as much as interest.

Neither spoke, though Linsey could hear the thrum of the creature’s breathing; it reminded him closely of wind at the sails, and strangely, it calmed him. He could hear the battering of rain and seawater upon the deck just as clearly, and if not more; it sounded as if the storm had begun to pick up, and he was at once glad of taking himself below, though felt some shame in it. The dragonet was watching him, with a careful sort of intent; Linsey stared in turn, now wholly undisguised in his wonder. It had not moved since he entered, but blinked slowly, first at him and then at the cabin, flicking its tongue in and out as though tasting the air.

It was scarcely bigger than a small foal, and its scales were a pale tawny; it flicked its ears and said, in a clear, quiet voice, “What is that sound?”

Linsey paused, and it was only with difficulty that he kept from gaping at the creature. His words all seemed to escape him; he took a deep breath, and said, “It is only a storm, fellow, I shouldn’t worry.”

The dragonet puzzled at this for several moments, watching the cabin roof and listening to the rain. It flicked his tail, apparently dissatisfied, and looked again to Linsey. “Will it be over soon?” It said.

“I should think so,” Linsey paused, then summoned his courage and asked, “Fellow—what shall we call you?”

The dragonet blinked, in something that seemed close to surprise; it thought for a long moment, and then said, quite plainly, “I do not have a name.”

“Of course,” Linsey had only realised the futility of the question once the words had left his mouth; he asked, politely as he could manage, “Might I give you one?”

It sat back on its haunches and looked up at him. “If you like.”

It was here Linsey found himself at a loss for words. He had not planned to speak with the dragonet, nor did he have any sensible idea of how dragons were suitably named. To name one at all was not prospect he ever would have considered; he had nothing prepared. For a brief moment, he panicked, then blurted, “Timor,” instinctually linking the dragon with the shallow sea he had visited in his earlier sea-faring years, off the coast of Australia.

It was a respectable name, at the very least, though Linsey could only curse himself for having nothing prepared — he thought at once of many other names, most other seas, perhaps more glorious in their reputation. But it was said, and the dragonet looked happy enough; he flicked his small ears in what seemed to be delight. “Timor?” He said, “I like that name. What may I call you?”

“Linsey. Or rather, Jean is my name, but most will call me Linsey.” Linsey answered, with some difficulty. Certainly Captain would not do, Timor was far from a member of his crew. Only the men closest to him used his surname, and fewer still would use his given. He could not be sure where this dragon ranked in his life. “Either will do,” He added hastily.

Timor seemed only confused, not afflicted, but did not stop to question him. “Linsey, then. Might I have a look outside?”

Linsey blinked. Briefly, he wondered if Timor missed the sunlight, or if he was only looking to make an escape; in any case, the storm was still blowing overhead, and Linsey did not think it showed any sign of holding. “I’m afraid not, dear fellow, outside is only the deck.” He answered reluctantly, quietly hoping Timor would not press further.

“Oh.” Said the dragon, unperturbed. “Could I not go there?”

Feeling his apprehension grow, Linsey paused; he could not be sure how well Timor might understand if he explained the situation, he scarcely understood it himself.

“Now, Timor, you’ve given my crew quite a fright: we were not sure where you had come from, and the ship is not quite fit for a dragon such as yourself.”

Briefly, he thought he ought to apologise, or offer the young dragon some form of pity. But he could not think of any suitable thing to say, so he drew his lips to a thin line, and kept quiet. Timor, for his part, did not argue, but his shoulders hunched miserably, and he said with a disheartened air, “I did not mean to scare you.”

His voice was very quiet, painfully so; Linsey, despite himself, could not help but feel a strike of pity for the poor creature. “It’s perfectly alright, I trust you did not mean any harm,” He said, which was not entirely true: the dragon’s presence alone had caused panic among the crew, along with the damages Timor had dealt to the ship itself, all admittedly minor, but a damned pain to repair. Even so, it seemed the thing to say.

At the very least, the dragonet swiftly seemed to perk up, and said with some urgency, “Is there anything to eat?”

Of all the things not to have on hand for a newborn dragon; Linsey cursed himself again. It was only lucky the crew had managed to restrain him without so much trouble; a newly hatched dragonet would fly away at any chance, if it were not harnessed and fed, and even in such a difficult circumstance, to lose such a beast would be a damned shame more than anything.

Or rather — Linsey squinted at Timor’s smooth scales; he could not be wholly sure that the dragon was indeed a newborn, he had no knowledge on dragon growth outside what was common, which was to say very little. But he could not imagine an older dragon being so little, unless it were a particularly small breed, so he settled quite uncertainly on the only assumption he could think to make.

“ ‘Fraid I don’t have anything on me,” He said regretfully; he had not even fed himself that evening. “But if you would be so good as to wait here, Timor, I might go and find something for you.

Timor looked up at him with satisfaction. “If you please,” He said, “Will you be long?”

There was a mournful quality to his voice, and Linsey realised with a brief stab of guilt that the dragonet must have been quite lonely. “No, I should not think so,” He said, by way of promise as well as apology.

He left the cabin quickly afterwards, and set immediately to finding Grayson; the man had named himself charge of the ship’s supplies, and had thus far proved to be quite reliable, but by some unfortunate circumstance he could be found nowhere on the upper deck, nor in his cabin, or anywhere else Linsey could think to look. He searched with mounting frustration, his efforts proving to be fruitless, until he turned back towards Timor’s cabin and ran instead into the ship’s Quartermaster.

“Richard’s, by all the seas!” Linsey said, breathlessly. “Be so good as to bring some food to the deck. Meat, perhaps, anything fresh,” He was not wholly sure what sort of diet would satisfy a dragon such as Timor: perhaps he would eat only fish, or he would not have a taste for meat at all. Perhaps, though less likely so, they would have to feed him fresh milk, like a newborn. Still, he was in no way inclined to return to Timor empty-handed, and added only, “Though nothing cooked, if you please.”

Richards, to his credit, did not argue, but gave him an odd look. “Captain, are you quite alright?”

“Splendid.” Linsey said, in attempt to move the conversation forward; also a brazen lie, since he was somewhat anxious to return to Timor. He felt some inexplicable guilt at leaving him for so long, but besides which, the prospect of a newly hatched dragonet aboard the ship, now named, and possibly able to be harnessed, was a matter of some urgency. “Fresh meat, Richards, quick as you like, it’s a matter of some importance. And bring it to the empty cabin, below deck.”

Richard’s eyes widened; he seemed to understand well enough, though his brow knotted in plain confusion when he said, “The dragonet, Captain?”

Linsey nodded. “If you please, John, do not let the crew know just yet,” he added hastily.

Richards drew his lips to a thin line. He nodded his understanding; satisfied, Linsey left him, crossing the deck with an urgency that surprised even himself.

Shortly it was all done; Timor stretched his neck out eagerly when presented with the meal, pulling taut the rope. He was not a clean eater, scattering blood and bits of flesh across the deck, but made quick work of it, pausing only to lap up the excess and lick his claws clean. Linsey stood well clear of the carnage, eyeing the gore that dressed Timor’s scales with mounting dismay — by this point he had begun to realise the full extent of their circumstance, and despite his best efforts, he could not ignore the faint unease settling itself upon his shoulders. Of course, they could not cast the dragonet out like they could a feral dragon, not now that he had been named, and they could not in the least let such an asset loose upon the world. But the rate at which he devoured this meal alone was a cause for worry; Linsey could not be sure if they had enough in their stores to feed Timor for more than a day, much less the weeks until they landed in port.

Richards stood silently at his side; Linsey had hardly paid him a glance since they stepped foot in the cabin, and had almost forgotten that the man was there at all until he said, queasily, “Might I find some rags to clean him, Captain?”

Linsey did not answer him immediately; he turned to the quartermaster, then to the feasting dragonet. Timor’s scales were all but dyed red, and the blood around his mouth gave him a rather savage appearance, but he did not seem to notice, or mind; he cleaned himself deftly, in such a way that reminded Linsey of a cat, and then sat back on his haunches and looked up expectantly.

“No,” Linsey said at last, “No, I should think he’ll be fine.”

Timor flicked his tail, pleased. “That was not so bad,” He said, “Is there any more?”

Linsey looked to Richards, who only frowned, rather unhelpfully. He knew the ship would have something more in its stores, if he could find the patience to search for it, but he could not be wholly sure if it would suit Timor quite as well as his first meal — most of the meat they had aboard was cured, not fresh, and a good deal of it had been feasted upon during the crew’s celebrations. He supposed some of the men might be capable enough to bring up a fish, but it certainly would not bring them any purchase to try now, while the crests of every wave rose steadily mightier with the storm. So he only frowned, and said with as much warmth as he could summon, “I am very sorry, Timor, but there won’t be much more, until this storm passes over.”

“Oh,” said Timor, looking sullen; again Linsey felt some odd need to ease his misery. He stroked the warm hide, after a moment’s hesitation; Timor rubbed his head against Linsey’s hand, and he found himself smiling involuntarily.

He was all too grateful that Richards could not see his face, for despite the warmth of Timor’s scales, and the sudden fondness Linsey felt for the creature, he would have gone red-faced with embarrassment if the quartermaster had seen him smile so easily, and with such affection. But he was uncomfortably aware of him, standing just over his shoulder in quiet unease; he patted the tawny scales and pulled his hand away, with some reluctance.

Timor turned immediately to preening himself, apparently unbothered. He licked at his chops and yawned enormously, then sniffed, looked over Linsey’s shoulder, and said, with sudden disappointment, “Oh.”

Linsey followed his eye; Grayson was standing at the door. Linsey had not heard him come in, and felt some quiet irritation that the man had entered unannounced, but he only nodded to him, and said, “Grayson. Did Richards call for you?”

“No, Captain,” Grayson said, “But there is something,” He paused and swallowed thickly, eyeing Timor with an odd sort of expression. Linsey looked at the dragonet in turn; Timor was watching Grayson with apparent curiosity, his eyes shining in the dim lantern light.

“What is it?” Linsey said, with more severity than he had meant for. Grayson looked to Richards, who gave him an odd look.

“I have reason to believe, Captain,” Grayson said; he was a softly-spoken man, and his words now were scarcely louder than a whisper, Linsey had to strain to hear him. “This dragonet, it might well be the hatchling from our prize ship.”

Linsey blinked at him. “Oh.” He said, and looked to Timor; he had largely forgotten the fragments of eggshell, buried among sailcloth with the dead boy, and had not once considered that they might be connected to Timor’s presence. Indeed, he rather thought it was obvious, now that the thought had been put into his head, and cursed himself for not realising far earlier; at the very least, it explained the odd absence of the hatchling — if Timor had crossed to the Delight while the crew was busy making log of their earnings and found his way below, then he might have lived off their holdings for weeks before the crew ever caught sight of him, had he not been driven out upon the deck by the storm.

Linsey looked at him now, a rare sense of uncertainty setting a frown upon his face. The dragonet was, by every evidence, a stowaway aboard his ship; in any normal circumstance he would have sent the creature overboard at once, as he had with many men in the past, who had tried much same thing, with far less success. But he had given Timor his name, and fed him, and he did not think he could bring himself to send him away so soon; in any case, he was beginning to feel rather fond of the creature, and found it required an effort to keep himself from smiling when he looked upon him.

“Grayson,” He said, “How is the rain?”

“Passing, Captain.” Grayson said. Linsey listened, and found that the rain had indeed begun to subside; no longer was it beating so hard upon the deck, and Linsey had to strain just to hear its quiet pattering from above.

“Very good.” He said, and looked to the dragonet. It was difficult to believe, even more so than the presence of the creature itself, that he had been the one to name him; he was now in harness, and by all his understanding, tied to the beast forever afterwards. The prospect delighted as much as terrified him — he looked upon Timor, the dragonet scarcely seemed real in the dim lantern light, and Linsey wondered if the smooth scales of his hide were indeed as solid as they had felt beneath his hand. In any case, it was a matter he would need to share with the crew, if he had any intentions on keeping Timor upon the ship; he said to Richards, “Call the men to the deck, Richards, quickly now. Perhaps our celebrations needn’t end after all.”

Linsey went up to the deck with Grayson at his heels; he gave Timor a brisk farewell, and hoped the dragonet would not think himself neglected, and when he ascended at last he found the crew already gathered, waiting with all the patience they could hope to summon. He caught curiosity on many faces, anxiety on others; Richards in particular was bright-faced and merry, Linsey smiled at him in turn, and stood to address his crew. “Good men,” He said, “I’m sure it is no secret now, we have a dragon aboard the Delight.”

A murmur passed around the crew; many gasps of awe from those who had missed the tussle upon the deck, and some men with anxious looks upon their faces, premature in their concern.

Linsey waited for the whispers to subside, and cleared his throat. A hush fell over the men at once; Linsey made them wait, for sake of his own amusement more than theirs, and then said, “I have spoken to the beast, he is named, and if all goes well he will be harnessed within the week.”

It was a favourable assumption, one that likely would not prove itself true, unless Mr. Tunnock was able to rustle something up with what little stores he had; Linsey saw the carpenter at the centre of the crowd, jostled at once by the men at his side, who gave their congratulations with great enthusiasm while he looked on in plain bewilderment. He felt with some quiet shame that he ought to have told the man first, but the crew were made at once merry by his words, and he could not in the least resist giving reason to their good-will. A great cheer swept over the crew, and many men shouted words of congratulations, Richards among them.

Linsey was quiet, though just short of beaming; he raised a hand, and the noise died at once. “But,” He said, more seriously, “By my understanding, that makes me Timor’s captain as much as yours, and unless I have grossly misunderstood the nature of the beasts, there is not much I might do to change that fact, lest death itself part me from him, as it would from this ship, or any of you,”

The men were quiet; it seemed they took this as the highest form of praise, and just as well, for Linsey could not have meant it in any less sincerity. He caught many smiles on many faces, and though he did not join them, he felt at once warmed by pride as much as fondness. He took a deep breath, and said, “But that leads me, men, to the point of charge; if I am to take Timor beneath my wing, so to speak, and I should ever be away, then I would feel a damned lot better if a capable man was charge of our ship, and the lot of you.”

“A vote, then, Captain?” said one of the hands.

Linsey nodded. “Yes, man, a vote.”

A cheer went up, and then died all at once; Linsey watched Grayson wave a hand for silence, and raised his brow in inquiry, to which Grayson merely gave him the grimace that passed for a smile for him.

“I’m very sorry, Captain, but if it pleases the crew,” He said, and the men nodded vigorously. “I doubt there’s any man here more capable than Mr. Richards, and if there are any doubts from the men, I’ll be sure that they’re few and far between. Aye?” He added, to the crew, and a cheer went up, with such spirit and clarity that it surprised even Linsey himself.

Richards looked first shocked, and then all but overcome with delight; he flushed up with colour, bright-faced and grinning broadly, and looked as though he was not able to find the words to speak. Linsey saved him the struggle; “Then by God, I have no complaints,” He said, grinning proudly, “And if I should ever be absent, Richards will run the ship, and take charge of you all,”

“And he’d do a damned good job at it, too!” called one of the men, and at once the crew took up a chant in Richards’ name, with all the spirit and gusto of a gale passing over the sea.

Richards went nearly red, every emotion showing plainly on his face. He could only smile and shake the hand of each man who gave their congratulations, and was jostled and embraced until he looked as though he might collapse with joy. Linsey went and shook his hand, smiling earnestly; Richards grinned at him with eyes shining.

“Thank you, Captain, thank you,” He said breathlessly, and Linsey patted him firmly on the shoulder.

To be valued by one’s crew was one thing, many men knew of their worth, and boasted themselves on sharing good humour between them at every chance. But to be told of such value, with all the pride and vigour that the crew showed Richards now, was something wholly different, and infinitely more precious; Richards was, in the moment, perhaps the luckiest man at sea, and Linsey was only prouder for it.

He took himself down to his cabin afterwards, full of great good-will, and accepted the many congratulations that followed with all the enthusiasm he could summon. Richards took up a great song and cheer, and led the crew long past dusk, with many of the men still cheering and laughing and singing long since the sun had taken its leave beneath the waves, and then yet more.

The ship’s cook brought his dinner to him, though it was only biscuits and salt beef, all the rest had been given to Timor, or taken during the crew’s many feasts; Linsey thanked him, and ate quickly, he could not take the time to savour the food, and found it tasted odd and rubbery on his tongue. He could not think what must have distracted him so completely; he had no reason to worry, and felt only pride for Richards and the crew, listening to their cheers from up on the deck. But he thought of Timor, and all the wonder he felt was only tainted all too soon by the sudden weight of responsibility upon his shoulders.

He thought briefly of returning to the dragon’s company, perhaps for his own sake more than Timor’s, but the day had left him strangely shaken, and he could not think of any reason for him to join Timor again, except to relieve his own anxieties, and perhaps to be sure he had not dreamt him up after all. Instead he climbed into his hanging cot, and settled uneasily into the sway of the ship, rocking softly with every swell of the sea. The motion lulled him, as it often did, into a sense of quiet calm; he thought all the while of Timor, and fell into sleep, while the crew sang merrily from the deck, long into the night.

[jadziajay]

a scene from my current wip, which i am calling a reverse-reverse au!

essentially, this collab with my new friend sasha asks the question: what if vinylatte were the ineffables, but nina were much more akin to angel!crowley and maggie to demon!aziraphale? nina still owns her coffee shop, and she brings sweets over to aziraphale sometimes :) this is one such time...

[...] “Here you are, Az,” she said, and shifted the box in her grip. She found that nicknames were a good way of sounding more human, on the whole. That and a healthy sprinkling of curse words. “All your favourites. Strawberry and lemon and those fuckin’ weird blackcurrant ones.”

“Oh!” said Aziraphale. “Thank you, Nina! Just set them over there, if you please.” 

He gave this directive from beneath a veritable mountain of books – piles and piles of them, some stacked as high as his head, others pouring out of brown boxes. It almost looked like he was just moving in, but of course that was impossible, because he had always been here if you took the straightforward view of reality that you were really supposed to, post-Antichrist. Nina picked through the mess with her habitual grace. 

“Restructuring again, then?”

“Oh, yes,” sighed Aziraphale, and stood up. He had on a sweater vest in cream argyle, and his glasses, which he removed to look at her. “Nothing for it, I’m afraid. Just got in a shipment I’d been waiting on for months and now I’m all turned around.”

Privately, Nina thought that this was an issue that might have been solved by an organisational model such as the Dewey decimal system, rather than alphabetical (if you were lucky) by whatever Mr. Fell felt like on a given day. She laid the box on his desk, a shock of white among the brown, and debated a miraculous intervention.

She liked him, was the problem. It was shockingly difficult to dislike Aziraphale, and Nina had tried. She loved all of God’s creatures, naturally, and had something roughly equivalent to the gruff protective instinct of a big sister for humanity, but that in no way meant that she had to like them, and she had taken that to heart somewhere around the Crusades. Sometimes, though, there came a human like Aziraphale that threatened all her hard work at distance.

Here was a man who came along to rent out the corner shop that had sat gathering dust for forty years and refused to sell a single book there because he loved them too much to let go – a man who sewed his own elbow patches onto authentic vintage coats, who took his tea with four sugars and honey, who read his Bible and only took the bits he felt were relevant to living well. Here was a man who did good, not Good, and was just enough of a bastard about it to be worth knowing. Nina couldn’t possibly feel anything for him but a begrudging warmth.

“How much?” he asked, tilting his head toward the box of macaron she had spent the better part of two hours filling to order. 

“Nope,” she said, and marvelled at herself. She shook her head sharply when he went to protest. 

“Oh, really now, I insist.” 

“Keep your money, Mr. Fell,” Nina said, with a thread of divine power in it – mostly because she didn’t have the patience to do this back-and-forth for another ten minutes, and he was so fucking English that he would. He blinked, slowly, owlishly, and put his pocketbook away.

“Well,” he said, at length. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“What can I say? I’m a right angel, me. Anything else?”

She watched him fidget – he folded the arms of his glasses, tucked them into his pocket, and smoothed out a series of nonexistent creases in his trousers. It was a bit like watching a baby duck faffing around with its feathers, and Nina tried very hard not to find it endearing. She wondered sometimes if he was one of theirs that got lost in the system somewhere, but Heaven didn’t up and lose things, unless you counted the Antichrist, which you shouldn’t, because he wasn’t, and so there was nothing to have lost. (She sort of wished she couldn’t remember that; it gave her metaphysical headaches to think about.)

“I’m having a bit of a get-together,” he said eventually. “A- a ball, of sorts, if you like. Just a little something for the neighbourhood, to liven things up. The shopkeepers’ meetings do get terribly repetitive, after awhile, and I know they aren’t your… thing, really, but it would mean ever so much if you came just this once.” 

Nina levelled the sort of stare at him that she generally reserved for the Archangel Gabriel. It was appraising in the way that Heaven was best at; not quite cold, but with a depth.

“Will there be alcohol?”

“But of course,” said Aziraphale. A spark of mischief caught in his eye, winnowing the anxiety that had been roiling there down to nothing. “Do you really think I’d ask anyone to deal with Mister Brown sober? No, my dear girl, that would certainly fall under cruel and unusual.”

She almost laughed. It was a soft huff of a thing laid under a smirk; more than most people ever got, and he knew it, too. He didn’t wait for a further answer, reaching into the box nearest him and withdrawing from it three leatherbound copies of Anna Karenina. 

“Oh!” he said, and clicked his fingers. “And you’re welcome to bring Maggie along, of course. How is she, the dear? I don’t think I’ve seen her in… well, in quite some time!”

“How should I know?” said Nina, nonplussed. Aziraphale gave a small, awkward smile that read, more than anything, politely confused.

“Well, she is your wife, isn’t she?”

There was a profound pause. Nina experienced a complex mixture of emotions over the space of about a second, of which she identified both an animal fear and a sharp, unfortunate want.

“What,” she said, and then “no.” And then “why would you– never mind.”

“Ah,” said Aziraphale, and looked down.

[julietookoff]

Up North Trip

March - July 2024

As usual I was planning my next geo-trip. I ordered a Bluetti power station to use for my CPAP while Jeep camping. Corny wired it right to the car battery to charge while driving. I cut a 4" upholstery foam to fit the Jeep and zipped it inside one of my sleeping bags. I left for a few days with Corny's folding bike. At my first stop, I bought a Florida Annual State Park pass. I cached around Ocala and Lake City. I found many of the oldest geocaches in several counties. The Bluetti worked like a charm - it will last me 3 nights without a charge. I have since discovered it will be fully topped up within a few hours of driving.

I got back home and we had a new carwash open right next to our Taco Bell. We took advantage of the free vacuums and floor mat washer.

One of our builder's son-in-laws is building a house across the street from us. The day they were pouring the foundation, someone's husky got loose and went for a romp in the cement pond. He stuck his snout right into the cement! The guys chased him away and he came over to our yard to stretch out on his newly cemented belly. It is a bit bigger than our house and a lot more expensive. They had an issue with the back yard (a giant pit), so they fenced it in. Now the problem isn't visible unless you peek over to the neighbor's side of the fence.

We hit a great storage auction in Clearwater at an A/C facility. We got a nice clean fridge for Shorty, a rattan guest bedroom set for us, a phone for Corny and a floor lamp for me, among many smaller finds.

We were getting ready to take the fridge up to Shorty, so I packed my kitchen bin with my pepper grinder, spices, garlic chopper, stuff like that. We decided to leave the CrockPot at Shorty's house this time so we don't have to pack it every trip. Corny replaced it soon after I got home and I regained my will to live/cook again. I was stuck on refried bean nachos for a week or so.

I finished making some pillows for my sister to match her pretty blue/yellow flower napghan. We gave them to her on her birthday.

I left home March 28th and finished geocaching in all the GA counties. I skipped out on any Easter dinner and ate at a Panda south of Atlanta. I visited the Atlanta capitol around 7am. There was plenty of parking and a ton of cops around at that hour. I started the Tennessee State Star with the bike. The weather didn't cooperate - it was a cold, grey drizzly day. I bought some leather gloves but it was still too cold for bike riding. I'll have to catch the Star some other time. I took a library day and headed north to Kentucky. I put on two pairs of pants in the morning but it was so cold I never took off the outers. It was such a pretty drive in the country. In southeast Ohio I ran into some flooded roads.

^big holly trees

^Cowduck and a travel bug duck

^swim to the cache?

I'm pretty sure I passed the Serpent Mound. As I drove by I thought "Why in the world would a farmer want his field like that? WTH was he growing?" Later I saw a brochure at a rest area and what I saw looked just like it!

I met Corny at a rest area off of I-71. We continued to Caesar Creek State Park campground for two nights. We watched the eclipse at a Wapakoneta Wally's. None of my pictures turned out.

We got to Shorty's house April 9th. He was putting the finishing touches on a freshly remodeled bedroom with a new queen size mattress. That was my bedroom for the length of my stay! He treats me so well . . .

We were meeting Shorty at the Taco Bell next to his workplace whenever possible. We frequented Wally's, Sam's and Martin's for groceries to cook for Shorty. Our feeble selves helped put together some of his new IKEA furniture.

We ate at Franky's Tacos, Cane's, Fazoli's and of course Allie's. On one of Shorty's days off, we all checked out the Potowatamie Zoo (just blocks from his house).

I discovered a China Tree clearance/glitch: one cent Spring Mix Dots. I went back to the store several times and accumulated about 20 boxes.

In April I had an enlightening phone call with my brother. Now I know why my sister and mother have treated me like shit for the last 5-10 years.

My Dad and brother made their first visit to Shorty's house and got an informative tour. We had an awesome meal at Longhorn and warm cookies for dessert at Insomnia cookies in South Bend.

4/24 Corny and I worked in the barn, loading a 6x8' U-Haul with our junque. We treated R & A to Salvatori's Italian for letting us store our crap in their barn for 10 years. We didn't get it all this trip, but the better portion of it. Raccoons had tunneled through some of Corny's boxes, so they will have to be repackaged next time we get up there. We didn't have time to work on repacking as the U-Haul had to be returned to Florida in four days. It was too hot to work in the garage by the time I got home to Florida, so my treasures await . . .

Corny didn't want Bruno's pizza because it IS pretty expensive, but dang. I ordered some for Shorty and me a couple days after Corny left! We finished watching "Fallout" and started on "Colony".

I went to the Vera Bradley outlet sale at the Coliseum and bought a few things. I escaped spending just around $50 for three items.

I was in the process of getting ready for a Michigan county run when a distant relative died. I postponed leaving for home and didn't get back until May 31. I was up north for 2 months. Corny had just gotten home and unloaded the U-Haul when he heard about the funeral. He and Poco came back up north in the van. I went to the viewing but stepped out for the funeral.

We stayed in the van at Dad's house a few nights and helped as much as we were allowed. I made Mexican lasagne, buttermilk brownies, and chicken noodle soup. We left earlier than expected due to some drama.

Whenever we went out with my brother, an activity was required in addition to the meal. One visit we went to a Chinese buffet, Costco and Franke Park.

May 16, We all left Shorty's house. Corny and Poco headed south in the van and I headed north to Michigan in the Jeep for a week. I slept in the Jeep except one night at a hotel in Saginaw. I cached in every county up to and in the Upper Peninsula (U.P.) and most of the way back. My favorite parts were on Jeep trails to old abandoned mines. I explored the old Ford village and dipped into Wisconsin for a few counties. I stopped at several garage sales for swag. The bugs were amazing. Before even getting out of the Jeep, I had my own personal swarms of black flies and mosquitoes, attracted by the engine heat/sound. I got to see an amazing tick parade when I undressed at a McDonald's restroom one day. A great trip, but I didn't finish all the Michigan counties. I will have to come back with the folding bike because the MI State Star is along a bike path near Lansing.

We made one more trip to go see Dad; we ate at a mexican place in Huntington - Chava's, and watched the acrobatic swifts eating bugs midair at Roush Dam. We spent over an hour at a Wally's. Shorty found some $70 boots on clearance (his size!!!) for $17! God is Godd. I found an $87 icemaker. My life has changed! I haven't had a decent cold drink of kool-aid since Oldsmar (2012).

I missed a few Survivor episodes due to my travels but one day soon I will re-watch them all. I geocached my way home via Alabama.

When I got home I downloaded my geocaches and a few days later, I couldn't find my GPS. I went back through all my travel stuff, geocaching stuff and Jeep. I thought I must've left it at a restaurant or it fell out of the Jeep or something. It was so near my birthday, Corny got me a new identical one. Two days later I found the old one, hidden deep in a corner of my big fanny pack. Oof. Well now I have two spares :0)

I planted two packs of tomato seeds June 3: Roma bush and Beefsteak vine. A couple days after I left them out overnight, somebody started eating holes in the leaves. I started spraying them with dish soap/water and bringing them in at night. We shall see if they survive. (edit: they didn't)

My favorite movies since getting back home are Quiet Place, Furiosa, Watchers, and Kingdom of Planet Apes.

We went to Texas Roadhouse on our 1st Anniversary and to a movie and Carrabbas on my birthday.

Life is Godd!

We fit out.

[asheewrites]

But but but... Raphael still has not actually discovered what kind of creature is lurking in his home now. Is he not at all curious? Is he not bothered by the noises happening now and then as it rustles through his stuff or knocks something over or such?

Raphael stretched his aching limbs when he stumbled back into his home around midnight. Michael meant well, and got the training regimen specifically arranged for him. It’s just a shame when Raphael half-assed it and flunked on the forms. And now: Ow.

Admitting he was in the wrong himself was the worst.

Maybe he should think about doing more of a regimen. Properly. If nothing else grabbed his attention. Maybe. … sometimes he could understand Michael’s frustration with everyone.

Ah well.

The daily check of the food bowls revealed that a slight bit of green produce was left over. He made note of it. Not the whole pound of celery stalks was consumed. Well, better than the different kinds of cabbage he’d offered beforehand. The whole three pounds of meat had still disappeared.

Hungry little fellow.

… still had to be little, right? Otherwise he would have seen the critter by then.

After three weeks of careful non-searching – privacy is important and should be granted, even to weird trespassing critters – he should still have seen something that can consume four pounds of food without breaking a sweat. If it worked in conventional ways.

 I had left two hairs behind.  One in the pile of wool… one stuck to the pottery clay. One was black. One was… a blackish-red? Slightly coarse, maybe the length of a segments of his finger, but without a root, the fur might be even longer…

So it had… blackish-red fur. At least partially. Ate four pounds of food without issue, had opened the lab-door the second day it had been in the flat – apparently, a proper key would be in order – and… that’s that. No metallic pens were allowed anymore, they get thrown down and bitten into. The bitemarks are inconclusive, though.

It appears to be a mammal. Which… is a bit of a disappointment, usually Raphael attracts birds – and they have a much more favourable disposition to him. Reptiles would have been fine, too… a big insect, maybe? But… a mammal it was.

With a shrug, the angel grabbed the bowls and put them on the pile to go downstairs for the next morning. A few files were waiting already their review was done.

It was a bit of a shock how long it stuck around, actually. The window had been open the whole time. After two days, a little ramp had been added to ease a possible escape, but it had been destroyed. And the window bitten into. Which… seemed to be a theme.

Walking up to the sofa for the current excursion into Late Cretaceous period, he noticed that the theme of biting had received a bit of an expansion.

The armrest of the sofa had been bitten through, stuffing falling out. Large parts of the pillows were simply destroyed… whole chunks of the seating pillows were partially ripped out.

Hm. Someone seemed unhappy. It most likely was not the fault of the food. Had the visitor been fed up by something?

Or was it the change in schedule?

Raphael smiled at the destroyed furniture: “Did you miss me?” Then flipped over the cushions – not the most comfortable, but it would do for the night – and sat down to flip a geography book open: “I can tell you when I’ll come and go. If that helps. I still don’t know if you understand me…”

And currently there was no real way to judge…

“… I mean… uhm… put… one of the bitten pillows into a bowl when you’re done eating? Tomorrow? That’s not demeaning? We can go from there?” It still felt really awkward talking to himself.

“… or you just bite me and I get a good look at you and we’re fine.” He looked around just in case, trying to look… delicious? Easy to grab with teeth?  

After about five minutes, he gave up on the vigilance: “It was worth a shot.”

Avisaurus will entertain. With their strange socket joints between shoulderblade and shoulder girdle. A concave coracoid and convex scapula is the modern day version. Those were exactly the opposite. ‘Opposite bird’ was right.

Their particular brand of anatomy had spread all over the world… only to die out in the looked after Late Cretaceous. Actually… he wanted to hold it in his hands. At least in form, if not in material.

The clay would be used for once. He pulled open the image of the Avisaurus archibaldii and stated to re-build one of the skeletons to scale. He had a pelican skeleton in the attic, so comparisons would be interesting to make, size-approximations helped there.

So he was almost done with the model of the second wind, when he felt a sharp, thorny pain. His wands immediately let the model fall and reached down to grab for the curlprit. Firmly.

It was an almost ear-destroying noise that was first too high and then too low, growling with abandon. He knew better than to let go, though.

Blinking, the angel looked down and saw… a fox. Mostly black with wide areas of red, nothing grey or white in there. Teeth still embedded in his calf.

It’s eyes did not reflect any light, but it didn’t struggle, simply growled.

“Sorry, I have to get a picture,” his phone was the closest camera-supplied apparatus in sight. “Good to see you. Thank you. It hurts a lot. But… you can’t actually harm me… so… maybe come out some other time, you can show me which food you actually like”

When he finally let go, the teeth dislodged to get a deep nip slightly below in. And then ran away. It disappeared into the bedroom. Leaving a bit of a blood trail behind. But had its tail between its legs.

Mh.

“Sorry about that! You surprised me!” He called after the critter.

The wounds were bleeding properly, which was already a good thing. He made a photo of them as well, then ran a hand over the little incisions and closed them up again.

Ah well, cold water and a cloth would get rid of the stains. And then he could continue modelling. Hadn’t seemed like the fox-creature wanted to come back any time soon.

[cryiling]

oh my god im so insane about 4town it's not even funny atp

1.) my bias is TAE YOUNGGGGG 🤭 it's the kpop stan in me LOL he reminds me so much of jimin. but he's just so sweet and caring and I neeeed more content of him!!! his little arc in the 4town manga was so 💗

2.) guys I'm an ot5, I love them all 😭✋

3.) i have no idea if this is unpopular, but I headcanon that tae young is the beatboxer of the group! I saw a tik tok from his va, and turns out the va is the one who did the beatboxing on their songs! so I hc that therefore tae young is the one doing that ^^ I haven't seen this hc before tho

4.) tbh I have not interacted enough with the fandom to know many popular hcs ajdbsjfb. I do hc that tae young gets really into second gen kpop around 2007 tho! is that a popular hc? specifically I think he'd lovee wonder girls and snsd

5.) ok ik that after 4town disbands robaire goes on to have a solo career, but my big hc is that they all stay close friends and further down the line they do a reunion album/tour for funsies!! robaire would absolutely slay as a soloist but I don't think he would prioritize that over his friends

6.) omggg hiding my pain is one of my favorite fics, I relate SO MUCH to tae young in it and I really love the hurt/comfort of his friends comforting and supporting him 😭🙏

7.) stop omg this art is so cute!!! tae young as jimin will always be my fave 🤭

8.) ok wait I did have two oc for my 4town predebut au but I don't remember their names 😭 but basically the fic idea follower tae young's high school life and how he got to know the boys, but it centered a lot around around his coming of age and coming to terms with his ethnicity and sexuality. in the au, he joins his school's asian-canadian club, and there he made two friends, one boy and one girl. but I don't remember their names or anything abt them 😭 but they were his first friends before 4town, and after the group debuts they still remain rlly good friends! yaur I'll talk abt this au more in #13

9.) can I count the disneyland parade LOL i saw it this past week AND TAE YOUNG GAVE ME A HEART OH EM GEEEEEEE im dead i love him 😭🙏 but if not that, then fs the 4town manga!!! i actually should reread it bc I don't remember most of it, but it gave us so much content for how the boys interact with each other!!!

10.) guys back in 2022 there was this person on insta who was making 4town cds and photocards and stuff and i NEEDED ITTT so I bought it for $25 😭 but omg I was so obsessed with it, I had the tae young pc in my phone case for theee longest time, tbh I have zero clue where I put the thing but I loved that merch!!!

11.) me when I'm fighting a giant panda by singing my hit song

12.) AN ACTUAL COMEBACK WITH A FULL LENGTH ALBUM AND MV PLSSSSSSSSSS you don't understand how badly i need that

13.) hey guysss are u ready to hear my whole fic idea for tae young centric predebut 4town 😽

so basically this takes place when tae young is in high school, a large part of this fic revolves around his insecurity issues regarding being a queer korean-canadian and wanting to express himself more feminine (like by wearing nail polish). in order to connect with more ppl like him, he joins the asian-canadian club at his school, where he becomes friends with this boy and girl who are both also queer (or at least allies, I don't really remember?)

but his two friends help him come out of his shell and start embracing his true self! I thought it could be interesting if the guy friend was z or something, but maybe it's more impactful if it's just an oc? idkk

at some point, he connects with t, who's in the same grade as him but a few months older. they're working on a school project together, but even once the project's over, they stay good friends! and this is when he starts to connect with the other 4townies

tae young has always had a passion for singing, but for a while he was really self conscious of his higher pitched voice. but his two friends from the asian-canadian club helped him overcome this insecurity as well. and so he really connects with t, who has always loved dancing and wants to pursue that as a career

anyways idr how but the 4town members eventually all connect and become friends (this happens in tae's and t's senior year btw) and they all share the same dream of becoming music artists! eventually they're scouted by a music label, and they can't believe the good news, so they all sign asap. and under this label is when they put out their turning red album and do their tour from the movie and everything

but actually, this label they're under is kinda rlly abusive and they totally overwork the boys and don't let them have any artistic control over their work. so none of the boys are really happy. and eventually, this all comes to a head when the company's ceo gets rlly verbally abusive towards tae young, calling out a lot of the things he used to be insecure about. and the members have had it atp, so they all quit their contract on the spot (ik this isn't super realistic but they do something like loona did irl and sue the company and it all works out in the end) and the boys are able to leave the label and start making their own music independent of a label

this means that their music is more representative of who they are and what they want to do, and this becomes really clear to fans, who have been supporting 4town the entirety of their fight against their old label. so yeah happy ever after to the boys who can be the artists they want to be!!

i cannot believe I just wrote all of that for a 4town fanfiction 😭 I have not written that long of an au post since revalink last year omg

14.) ok tbh I don't really see myself dating any of them 😭😭 it would be super fun to hang out with tae, altho I think my personality would mesh better with robaire or t ajdbwjfn. I have zero clue what we would do, prob with tae we could go get boba or coffee or smth, maybe with robaire we could get dinner or a more traditional "date?" and with t I think it would be super fun to have a dance session together!

15.) well *I* would fs be fangirling the entire day LOL, idk I would honestly be scared to be perceived by them 😭 im content to do wtv SJDBEJFN

anyways this was so much fun to do!!! I've loved 4town forever but I'm still new to the fandom on tumblr so pls be kind to me 😣

4*Town Questions To Keep You Entertained

Keeping the 4Townie fish fed & enriched, more lil activities on the way

———

1. Who is your 4*Town bias/favorite member? Why do you like them?

2. Who is your least loved 4*Town boy? Why?

3. Whats an unpopular 4*town HC you have?

4. Whats a popular 4*town HC amongst the fandom that you enjoy/share?

5. Whats your favorite 4*Town headcanon/idea?

6. Do you have a favorite 4*Town fic or headcanon set? If so, what one?

7. Do you have a favorite 4*Town art piece or artist? If so, who?

8. Do you have a 4*Town OC? If so, what are they like? Tell me about em! Show em off! If you dont have one, make one up on the spot briefly

9. What official 4*Town content is your favorite? (Manga, gifs, the website, movie etc)

10. What UNofficial 4*Town content is your favorite (it can be your own! Or a fic an animation, a fan piece, fanmerch etc)

11. Whats your favorite 4*Town song? (Except you cant list its name or any of its lyrics, you just have to poorly describe it)

12. If you could make any self indulgent official 4*Town content, no limits on VA’s, no cost problems, whatever quality you want, what would it be? Why would it be that?

13. Make up (or talk) about a 4*Town AU thats self indulgent to you :]!! Whats it like? Whats it involve?

14. Who do you wanna date in 4*town? What would the date be? How would the guy behave?

15. You get to spend a day with 4*Town, what are y’all doin?

[sanguinescorpios]

stream sniper

dream x f!reader

summary | dream is on an important stream and too busy to give you attention. unfortunately for him, you’re feeling needy.

warnings | smut, thigh riding, voyeurism, dom!dream x sub!reader, edging, cockwarming, orgasm denial if you squint, this is filthy

word count | 2.8k

it started out innocent. you had been missing your boyfriend; between your school work and his editing, you rarely got to spend time together despite living in the same house.

you admit, you were a needy partner. you liked to be attached to clay’s hip at any chance you got, and he just let you. during recordings, during editing, even during streams; you were always there. it didn’t matter if he couldn’t really pay attention to you or if you had to sit on the couch behind his set up, you just enjoyed being in his presence.

this one, however, was slightly different than the average stream. you could count on one hand the amount of times clay had refused to let you be present for a stream and every time he had, it was a trainwreckstv stream.

it was fine, you always said, you understood. of course he wouldn’t want you there for a stream like that. he had to focus a lot harder on how and what he said on train’s podcast because the demographic and content was so drastically different from his own, and you would only distract him. it wasn’t personal. still, you couldn’t help but feel bitter about it. you missed him; final exams week had just ended and the idea of spending worry-free quality time with him was what got you through it. so you did what your totally logical brain told you to do: walk in anyways.

the door creaked as you opened it and you cringed internally. your sock-clad feet tread lightly as you moved forward into the room, praying your boyfriend wouldn’t notice your presence.

he did.

being a faceless creator, he didn’t even own a camera to accidentally have on, so you were safe on that front. the look on his face, however, told you that you were not so safe after all.

“i thought we agreed on you not being here for this stream?” he asked after tapping the mute keybind on his keyboard. he spun around in his chair with an abrupt kick from his heel, trying and failing to veil his annoyance.

“we did...but i missed you.”

he rolled his eyes, still ticked off but not so much that he was willing to turn you away. he missed you as well, he couldn’t deny it. not having you in his arms for so many hours was excruciating, though he tried not to think so dramatically. clay waved you over to him, the corners of his lips curling up at your attire.

“is that my shirt?” he asked, and you nodded. placing his large hands firmly on your hips, clay kept you close to him while he took a closer look at the oversized red t-shirt. it hung loosely on you, two sizes too big and ending mid-way down your thighs. clay couldn’t help but notice your lack of pants, too.

swooping his head down, he pressed a kiss to your exposed thigh. you brought your hands up to your face, heating up by the second, and giggled.

“no pants, hm?”

you gave him another non-verbal response, bashfully shaking your head while looking down at him through your fingers. he tsked you before pressing another kiss against your skin, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“naughty girl,” he remarked after a few more kisses.

“aren’t you on a stream right now?”

clay glanced behind himself at his monitor, watching as the grown men on the screen argued with each other over some nonsensical issue. returning his gaze to you, he shrugged.

“yeah, but it was getting pretty boring.”

without a warning, clay clumsily pulled you into his lap and spun the two of you back around in his chair. after giving you one more kiss, he placed his headphones back on his head and returned to the conversation on his computer.

“yo, dream, you’ve been pretty quiet, man,” train noted, just in time.

“yeah my cat was acting weird, so i was gone for a minute.” clay placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed, a stupid grin on his face. this was gonna be one hell of a night.

***

you hated to say it, but you regretted crashing the stream. the conversation was painfully boring and dragging on, but there was no way you could leave now with the hold clay had on you. one hand lay around your middle and the other was firmly gripping your thigh. with his calloused fingers rubbing circles into the crease between your leg and your torso and his confident voice rumbling in your ear, you weren’t sure if you’d make it to the end of the stream. maybe he was teasing you, or maybe you were just needy. either way, you were gonna need a little more attention than this.

you stretched your neck in order to meet clay’s gaze, hoping he’d see the desperation in your eyes. instead, he gave you a soft smile and a kiss on the nose before turning back to the screen. he expected you to turn back as well so when you didn’t, he took notice.

reaching to mute himself, he gave you a concerned look.

“you alright, baby?” he asked and you shook your head no, “what’s up?”

“need you,” you admitted, barely concealing the whine that threatened to escape your throat.

clay’s eyes darkened ever so slightly, making it feel like the air had just been sucked out of the room. he was thinking, debating what to do next as he bounced you on his leg. the pace was punishingly slow and you grit your teeth to hold yourself together. 

“i’m a little busy, pretty girl,” he began as you let out a whine, “you’ll have to take care of yourself for now.”

you weren’t sure what that meant until you followed his gaze down. oh. oh. he wants you to...use him. okay. you raised yourself off his lap and he gave you a confused look, but it disappeared as soon as he saw you slipping out of your panties and was replaced by a smug smile. 

climbing back onto his leg, facing him this time, you let out a puff of air. fuck, he felt good. your already dripping center pressed against clay’s jean-clad thigh, the rough fabric intensifying any amount of friction you could manage. you wanted to move so badly, but clay’s tight hold on your hips kept you stationary. you looked up at him with big eyes, silently asked for permission. finally, he nodded.

you immediately began rutting your hips against his thigh, resting your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. fuck, you thought as you felt the sturdiness of him underneath you, his shoulders. small mewls and whimpers escaped you as you increased your pace, chasing a high that you weren’t sure you could reach on your own.

train had clay talking about his sudden success, which was a fan-favorite topic as everyone either hated or loved him for it. the only catch was that, being the nature of train’s podcast, the focus was less on the money and more on the, well, you know.

“think about it, dream. there are people out there fucking themselves to the sound-to the thought of you. isn’t that crazy?” you heard train ask, though it was muffled by clay’s headset. 

clay looked down at his lap, on which you were grinding your bare clit like a bitch in heat, and then back up to his monitor.

“not really.”

you nearly moaned at his words, but hid it by sucking a bruise into clay’s neck. clay hissed at the feeling and tried to push you off, but you were unrelenting. you swirled your tongue around the section of his skin to soothe the pain. pulling back to admire your work, you were met with a now aggravated clay.

“y-yeah i’m alright man,” he started, glaring down at you, “my cat just scratched me.”

you rolled your eyes. great excuse, asshole.

you began to lean back down towards his already bruising neck, but were instead met with a strong hand gripping your jaw, turning you to face your now dually frustrated boyfriend. something had shifted, the air felt thicker and clay felt sharper, all softness void from his demeanor. the look in his eyes was made of steel and flickering between your own gaze and your mouth, brows furrowed and tongue dipping between his lips to swipe across them. the little voice in your head was screaming “danger”, but danger didn’t look so bad in that moment. danger looked good, danger looked worth the risk. danger looked like getting the best fuck of your life. 

ignited by the heat building in your core and the near-paralyzing look clay was giving you, you continued your previous actions. rutting your hips against clay’s thigh with fervor, you smiled proudly at him. the roughness of his jeans sent shivers through your body, you had to be soaking him and you were only getting wetter by the second.

your chin raised, a smug smile plastered to your features, and that challenging glint in your eye - you were such a fucking brat and clay lived to put you in your place. his hold on your jaw tightened before sliding down to rest on your throat, squeezing until your eyelids began to flutter and your thrusts grew sloppier. the knot in his stomach twisted tighter at the sight. fuck, clay thought, you were something else. something that needed to be taught a lesson.

clay muted again, taking advantage of the ad break to pull down his sweatpants and pull out his cock. he pumped it a few times, precum leaking from the tip and sliding down his length. your stomach flipped at the sight, never not taken back by his size. clay grabbed you by your hips and spun you around so that you were facing his pc, facing everyone on the call that you had nearly forgotten he was still on. then, he began to tease his tip at your entrance. 

“this what you wanted, pretty girl? wanted me to treat you like a slut? wanted me to fuck you with everyone on the call?”

you moaned at the feeling of him circling the place you needed him most. the heat was still heavy on you from your previous actions and your body was no less frenzied than before, you wanted your release more than anything. knowing that all of those people were there didn’t help your crazed state. you felt dirty and you liked it.

“sit.”

you lifted yourself over him without a second thought, slick and sensitive from the buildup of your long-awaited orgasm. a moan slipped past your lips at the stretch, feeling every inch of him against your walls as he bottomed out. instinctively, you let your head fall against clay’s shoulder, overwhelmed by how full you felt. god, he felt so good. when you went to move, clay’s strong hands gripped your hips and held you in place.

you whimpered against his neck, trying and failing to get some sort of friction going. when that didn’t work, you opted to clench around him, but clay simply tsk-ed you.

“you’ve been naughty, baby,” he started, “now you’ll sit here like a good girl and keep me warm until the stream’s over.”

what? you thought to yourself, the panic setting in. he can’t be serious!

“no, no, no, no, i’ll be good!” you begged. you’d been practically edging yourself for what felt like hours now, you needed him to let you release.

“i know you will, baby. now sit still for daddy, okay?”

time passed immeasurably slow. your mind was racing with thoughts, trying to focus on anything but clay’s cock throbbing inside of you. you tried your hardest not to squeeze him too often, despite how much relief it brought you. clay was feeling the heat too, your warm, velvety walls gripped him impossibly tight and he was beginning to regret choosing this punishment. you needed the lesson, but god was he suffering for it.

when the stream finally came to an end, the first thing clay did was thrust up into you. you yelped, gripping his arm in surprise at the sudden movement. he started up a steady pace, pounding up into you and rubbing harshly at your clit. the feeling was intense, especially after how long you’d been teased and forced to wait, and you found yourself moaning wildly because of it, unable to control your noises as he spun you around in his lap once again.

“had to-make me-punish you-during a stream, huh?” he taunted between harsh thrusts, grabbing you by your hair and forcing you to look at him. “had to choose today to be a little slut?”

you let out a near-pornographic noise, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit your most sensitive spot.

“i asked you a question.”

“i’m sorry, daddy. i - ah! - i won’t do it again!” you wailed, head falling back as you felt your release fastly approaching.

clay grunted and forced you to look at him again, pushing his thumb into your mouth and letting you drool around it.

“look at me when you fucking speak,” he ordered.

he picked up the pace in frustration, wanting you to apologize appropriately. you distracted him, you should know how much he hates that. you should also know how much he demands your eye contact, getting fucked or not.

you coerce your eyes open and look at him, not concerned about how absolutely wrecked you must look right now. mascara running down your cheeks with tears from over and under stimulation, eyeliner smudged around your blown out eyes, lips red and sore from kissing on his neck, you were a mess. a hot one, if you asked clay.

“i’m sorry, daddy. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you continued to babble around his finger as his thrusts somehow grew harder and harder, the pace excruciatingly pleasurable. you were going to cum, you knew that much, but you needed permission.

“gonna cum, daddy!” you warned, feeling the burning knot in the pit of your stomach begging to unravel.

“cum for me, baby. make daddy proud.”

and make daddy proud you did, cumming hard around clay’s cock and feeling yourself spray his stomach with your juices. did you just? oh my god, you did. the embarrassment only made you feel hotter as clay continued to fuck your hole past your orgasm. you whined from the overstimulation, but he couldn’t have cared less.

clay’s moans went from low grunts to higher, breathy gasps, the closer he got the lighter his noises became. his brows were furrowed tightly and his eyes were blown out, the darkest shade of green you think you’d ever seen. the muscles in his arm pulsed as he gripped your waist tighter, completely using you as his own personal fuck toy. he was almost there, you could feel it in the way he gave his all but couldn’t keep up the organized pace he had before. you needed him to cum, not just because you were close to being worked up all over again from the stimulation, but because you wanted to make him feel good. in that moment, making him cum felt like your life purpose, your only purpose. you didn’t just want him to cum, you needed it.

“please give me your cum daddy, wanna feel it inside me,” you begged, taking matters into your own hands, “need you to make me yours.”

at that, clay groaned out a loud string of profanities and came inside of you. he painted your insides, you could feel him everywhere. you sighed at the feeling, warm and full and satisfied. clay let his head fall into the crook of your neck as he breathed through his cool down, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder and mumbling praises and ‘i love you’s’. it took a moment for either of you to actually speak, just relishing in the moment and enjoying each others company.

“you gonna move anytime soon, bud?” you finally asked with a giggle. clay simply shook his head and buried it farther into your neck, humming out a ‘no’.

“wanna make sure it stays in for a while.”

you giggled again at his confession, pressing a kiss to the side of his head and ruffling his hair.

“okay baby,” you paused and pouted, “i’m sorry for interrupting your stream.”

clay sat back and gave you a soft smile, pressing his finger to your lips and turning your frown upside down, literally. he shook his head and gave you a sweet kiss, pressing his own lips tenderly to yours.

“don’t apologize, it was worth it.” a cheeky smile spread across his face and you rolled your eyes, the endearing air around you severed by your boyfriend’s childishness. you loved it, though you’d never tell him.

“you think anyone was suspicious of us?” you inquired, hoping to god no one had picked up on your quiet moans while the stream was still going.

“nah,’ clay lied.

[lokiskitten]

I NEED a part two of “first time”

Loki Laufeyson | first time pt2

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : ( refer to pt1 ) after experiencing a first intercourse together, Loki insists on crossing the path towards the end. With only the fear of being seen by the other variants holding you back, you end up agreeing to follow the excited man’s proposition.

warnings : smut, extremely short moment of none-con followed by a consent check up, mention of virginity loss ( male ), unprotected sex ( pls for the love of god wrap it ) and lowkey sub!Loki.

“Now that was... ah. Nice.” You affirmed tiredly, knees colliding with one another though your feet remained slightly parted. Your organism was still trying to wash away the orgasm you had just reached with Loki’s divine help. Meanwhile, the god of mischief carried on staring at your body, resembling a scientist who led an experience on the human anatomy. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, but didn’t feel brave enough to dare to open his mouth just yet. In fact, he felt as if he was disturbing an intimate and personal moment of yours. It nearly managed to make the god feel flustered and awkward.

Looking closer, Loki was able to spot your own love juice dripping out of your entrance, coating your swollen lips and settling a deep emotion of lustful hunger within his soul. He wanted more, he needed more- and only you could potentially satisfy his crippling and frustrating sexual appetite at the moment. His hands rested on your knees, forcefully parting your thighs before he allowed himself to slip in between. Upon feeling a weight suddenly add up against your own mass, your eyelids moved open which allowed you to make eye contact with Loki. You felt surprised to see him there, and even more surprised to witness him behaving in such a way.

“What are you doing?” You asked, attempting to move your chest up with the help of your elbows- which led Loki to back away to sit down on his knees between your legs. “Well, I’m doing the thing. Isn’t that what people do next?” He explained, earning a frown from your shocked self. Though, you were still willing to be patient with him. “No, you always ask. Always. Do you understand?” You affirmed seriously, earning a shy nod from the demigod who didn’t really enjoy to be treated like a child. Though his aim wasn’t to ruin this moment by starting unnecessary drama- especially as he appeared to be in the wrong. But once this small moment of embarrassment had passed by, Loki felt like explaining the reason to why he appeared so frustrated.

“Look, I have a very painful..” he began, only to end up being cut off by your staring self who admired the long shape traced from within his pants. It was too big to miss. “Boner.” You finished before looking up at him, earning an embarrassed gasp coming from the demigod. “And I really want you.” He finished on a nearly sorrowful tone adding up to a puppy face- a note that managed to reach your heart. You shot a glare at the small wooden cabin in which Mobius and the other variants were having dinner, anxiety taking over your organism at the thought of potentially being seen or caught by them. “I don’t know..” You explained, earning a frown from Loki sitting before you who didn’t appear to understand why you were refusing the offer after you had both experienced such fun.

“Aw come on. What could possibly go wrong?” He cheered, giving your shoulder a gentle fist kick in order to lift the mood. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help but remain stoic. “Well, loads of things in fact.” You responded, leading Loki’s smile to drop instantly. “What if we get caught? That would be an embarrassment I’d never be able to get over. Not to mention the whole pregnancy issues if your princess self isn’t capable of pulling out at the right time.” You carried on, offering Loki multiple exemples to why this upcoming sexual intercourse could possibly go wrong. Ironically enough, he appeared more concerned and offended over the fact that you had just called him princess rather than getting worked up about the horrible consequences program you had just settled.

After spending a couple of seconds making useless eye contact with the raven haired man, you ended up breaking this one in order to shoot another glance towards the wooden cabin. The surroundings appeared calm, which managed to ease your anxiety. Besides, after leading you to cum in such an incredible way, you believed that maybe Loki deserved a release too- adding up to the fact that you’d feel proud to be the woman who would take care of breaking through his virginity. Turning your head back towards his, a nod was the only gesture that escaped your body. It instantly managed to lift the demigod’s mood. “Really?..” Loki asked, and that in order to make sure you weren’t tricking him, the most famous trickster.

“Yeah, lets give it a try.” You responded on a friendly tone, a discreet smile adorning your features as you watched Loki summon a blanket for the two of you. He had probably noticed the way you appeared to avoid dust with the help of your pants, and wanted to offer you better then this piece or clothing to protect your sensitive skin. However, he appeared to organize this upcoming event in quite a religious way. He made sure to keep the blanket flat against the floor, brushing away the wrinkles until you finally stopped him by taking ahold of his wrist. “This is the part where you take your clothes off.” You affirmed, underlining the fact that he probably should stop worrying about the wrong matters especially as you were running out of time.

“Oh, right right.” He answered politely, taking a seat on the green pled before he began to precariously unbutton his TVA shirt. You watched as his tone muscles were revealed, his abs shifting as he got rid of his upper piece of clothing for good. This checkpoint led you to look up at his greenish eyes again, the two of you exchanging a smile before he began to go for his belt. The shape of his hard member was still visible through his trousers, a length that would soon be set free once Loki would finally get rid of his pants. No shame or embarrassment seemed to fill his organism upon his lower clothes being pulled down to his knees- his crotch being revealed to your respectful sight. In contrary, Loki appeared more than proud of himself for finally getting to go through such a thing, which held him back from accumulating negative emotions.

Your two naked selves then laid down on the blanket, wrapping your arms around one another’s body and engaging in a rather friendly but passionate hug. You enjoyed this warm and safe physical contact, and you expected Loki to enjoy it too. The sensation of his moist tip rubbing against your stomach only made it better- as you still felt amazed regarding the size of his member. It combined both generous length and girth, and was also gifted with the perfect shape any woman, or man, could ever ask for. “You smell nice..” he affirmed, his nose being stuck to the crook of your neck as you happily passed your hands through his black hair. He ended up looking up at you, pressing a shy and respectful kiss to your lips. You smiled.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to roll around, switching to Loki now resting on top of you. He smiled down out you out of pure excitement, his tip already trying to find a way into your entrance- as clumsy as his hips could be. After taking notice that he appeared to have a hard time lining himself up with your hole, you slipped a hand down between your legs and gave his balls a gentle caress, earning a couple of sensitive moans coming from your excited partner. However, your hand then proceeded to slither it’s way up his shaft, delicate digits wrapping around this one’s girth in order to move it to where it should and wanted to be. When you felt like Loki was now ready to carry on on his own, your hand made its way back up to his shoulder before passing underneath his arm and wrapping around his smooth and muscular back.

The raven haired man looked down at you with slight panic in his eyes upon being aware that a single hip thrust of his could begin the intercourse, his shoulders now having to carry a great responsibility he simply wasn’t ready to fail. Unfortunately, Loki once again appeared to struggle with pushing himself in. Even when looking down at your crotch, he still didn’t manage to properly slide inside of you. However, upon taking notice of his distress again, you agreed to slip your hand back down to his groin, taking a gentle hold of his shaft which you locked between your thumb and index finger before offering him a little bit of help regarding penetration. Thankfully, his cock was now able to slide inside of you on it’s own even if it remained a slow process.

Moving your hand away, you allowed Loki to fully take over the penetration process as you watched his facial expressions clench and contract. Eventually his eyelids shut close, hips colliding with yours as his tip dangerously brushed against your sensitive cervix. You could tell that this was brand new for him, and that he visibly had a hard time handling it. “You’re doing amazing.” You affirmed empathetically, your hand gently caressing his flexed biceps. Meanwhile, Loki couldn’t help but focus onto the warmth your walls provided him, his brain still attempting to process how nice it felt to finally get to be coated in a woman’s love juices. It was tight, moist, and warm- long story short : the perfect environnement for his needy member.

“Maybe try to give moving a try..” you proposed shyly, your organism beginning to feel more than overwhelmed by Loki’s filling presence inside of you. After hearing about this offer, Loki began to slowly back away from your crotch, shiny length, which was coated in your love juice, sliding out of you with relative ease. The two of your moaned, though you appeared calmer than your friend at first- who you didn’t forget was currently going through his first intercourse ever. Therefore, judgment wasn’t present. It didn’t take long for a regular thrusting process to take place, your overly sensitive walls nicely reacting to the friction caused by Loki’s cock especially after getting to orgasm beforehand. Your arms remained wrapped around his back, the two of you rocking back and forth against the green blanket.

“You’re doing so good..” you whispered in his ear, eyelids remaining closed as your hand had now taken ahold of his long raven hair. Your main goal was to enhance him through this event, and give him the happiness and recognition he clearly deserves as a bed partner. However, your natural tightness adding up to the more than large size of his girth was overstimulating Loki’s genitals, sending shockwaves of pleasure down his shaft and straight into his tensed balls which repetitively bumped against the area located beneath entrance. “Don’t forget to- to pull out.” You begged breathlessly, his thrusts becoming more primal and intense now that he had gained some extra self esteem regarding the situation.

You couldn’t help but grow worried and work yourself up over this intercourse’s potential end, wondering if the man on top of you was going to be able to control himself and pull out before his cum could penetrate into your womb. Thankfully, this annoying state didn’t last for long and you soon found yourself lost into lust again. Your arms wrapped around his neck, teeth gently biting down onto his earlobe as you allowed yourself to tug on it in a primal yet harmless manner. Loki seemingly appeared to appreciate this move, another wave of moans exiting his mouth as he unexpectedly pulled out of your cunt in order to allow his own hand to wrap around his shaft.

A couple of pumps were enough to see white liquid spring out of his urethra, the sperme landing on your stomach and staining your delicate skin. You were both left breathless, for nearly the exact same reason as one another. Resting your hand onto your chest, you panted whilst looking down at the substance on your tummy which appeared surprisingly appetizing. “Loki..” you moaned gently, fingers brushing against one of the stained parts of your stomach before you brought your digit up to your lips. Even if you hadn’t tasted many, his cum appeared different than the rest on the gustative level. “That was amazing.” You affirmed with a smile, extending your arm for him to join you on the blanket. You were craving for his touch, more than you had ever craved anything before.

[ part one available right here ]

As requested, here’s part two! I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read. Don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means tons. Stay safe and happy❤️

[spacedace]

Dick for sure started out singing the actual lyrics of "Kiss the Girl" before getting way too into the Scuttle squawking part (which was thr point Jazz shot at him).

He really *should* have known but also they were just so cute!! And they were just standing there and *not* kissing even after admitting that they were interested in each other and they both clearly *wanted* to kiss each other! What else was he - a devoted big brother to do?

Anyway they were so distracted by Dick they hadn’t even noticed Tim break out is old Baby Stalker moves with his nice camera on the other roof, able to get plenty of shots of them being adorable when they *did* kiss.

Sure they couldn't exactly put the pictures up on the wall in the manor, but that was what the gallery down in the Cave was for!

---

Jason woke to tiny hands swatting him in the face and an adorably serious expression on little Ellie's round face.

He and Jazz had - eventually - moved to her couch down in the Nightingale living room to finish their...conversation. At some point they had fallen asleep, Jason stretched across the second hand couch, Jazz curled up in his arms still snug in his jacket. It was nice, even with one of the couch's springs digging into his back and the general discomfort that was always an issue when he fell asleep in his armor.

"Hood?" Elle asked in a failed attempt at a whisper, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. "Yeah kiddo, I'm Red Hood." He glanced down, making sure Jazz was still asleep. It was still dark outside, though shifting to that deep blue of early morning, no need to wake her up quite so early on her day off. "You can call me Jason though, if you want."

Ellie tilted her head, wild bed-frazzled curls bouncing around her in dark a halo as she did. At length she gave a decisive nod. "Jay." She declared, before toddling over on unsteady feet and began the process of trying to climb up on the couch with them.

Careful not to jostle Jazz, he reached out quickly and scooped the little girl up and shifted so that she was tucked protective between him and Jazz. She curled up close to her guardian, tiny and adorable as she made herself comfortable with no care at all to the fact that Jason was left precariously balanced on the edge of the couch in order to keep them both secure.

He smiled down at them both, allowing himself the small thrill of leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of Jazz's head, chest bleeding warmth as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck and gave a contented sigh.

From the doorway, with a Frankenstein of a camera he had cobbled together over the past few weeks for fun - looking far less expensive then the one Tim had weirded the night before but just as precise in the shots it took - Danny snapped a few shots of his own.

He couldn't put them up anywhere - Jason wasn't wearing either his helmet or mask, but he was still very clearly Red Hood, the helmet sitting on the coffee table only solidified it - but he *could* share them with Hood's siblings. As soon as he tracked them all down of course. Starting with Robin, he owed the kid ice cream for helping kick all this off.

prompt 15.08 - Love and Protect

Tim sighs and stretches his arms. One more interview and it's over for today. The last interview for the day is with one Jazz Nightingale, a psychology major.

"So, why did you apply for the Martha Wayne Scholarship?"

...

She's an interesting person. A small town girl with good grades and impressive resume. Yet she's alert as any other batkid - her eyes scan the room, and he's pretty sure she's armed.

Interesting.

They finish the interview, and as they shake hands, she freeze and then start running away.

Interviews ARE stressful, but usually people don't come out running. He check the security feed, trying to follow her, and find a strange scenario:

There's a a small girl in a pink dress, seating on the floor and crying as she hold some stuffed animal (wait... is it a ghost?)

Bruce kneeling by her, quietly trying to question her about her family.

"GET AWAY FROM HER, FRUITLOOP!" Is suddenly ahout as Jazz enter the screen and pick up the crying toddler.

"What happened, dear? Where's your brother?"

"mommy," The toddler start crying louder. "I wake up and you are not home. I think they take you and they cut you and-"

"hush, hush, honey. I'm here. I'm safe". Jazz says as she hold the kid tightly.

.....

Or: Ellie was captured and vivisactwd for a short tet traumatic time. She still has nightmares.

As a way to keep her from melting, CW got her to be around 4/5 years old, and the kids run away.

The Nightingales move to Gotham. Danny (16), his older sister Jazz (19) and her daughter Ellie (5).

The bats find about them as Jazz apply for scholarship.

There identities are fake, but they seem to be under some kind of wetness protection.

(there aren't many reasons that leave a single mom teen and her younger brother in witness protection).

The bats have their theories. Red Hood try to check from time to time about them.

Shenanigans happen.

[I go with anger managment. But I ALWAYS go with AM]

[bcdwhcre]

“Territory,” Levi x Reader

Summary: Levi overhears the cadets confessing their feelings for you so he decides to show them that you’re his.

Warnings: ⚠️ smut zoneeee ⚠️

Levi x Fem!Reader

This was requested btwwww

.

.

.

It was the weekend, meaning the scouts were off of work until another expedition comes along so you had decided to stay inside the kitchen, teaching yourself how to bake simple desserts like cookies or brownies to occupy your mind.

The hobby had suited you, made you forget about the overbearing stress you would deal with during the week of training or going outside the walls which was always a overwhelming time.

Most of the guys sat inside the mess hall, sitting down and playing random games while talking to each other about probably the most random stuff, anything that came to their mind.

You had walked out of the kitchen, being nice enough to set the cookies down on the table to have them do a taste test for you, considering Levi probably wouldn’t.

“I hope this recipe turned out a little better than the last.” You laughed at the memory of last week trying to bake and the boys cringed at how hard it was to chew.

Eren was the first one to quickly reach over and eat it before the rest of them followed, their eyes lighting up and all of them looking up at you in awe.

“These are so much better.” Eren hummed to himself, grabbing another one and you rolled your eyes, keeping the plate there.

“Thank you for being my taste testers. I’ll give you some brownies later.” You smiled, turning back and going inside the kitchen to somewhat clean up the mess you made.

After you left, the boys all looked at each other while eating the cookies. They stayed quiet until you were gone out of sight and Jean was the first one to speak up about his big crush on you.

“I doubt you’ll have a chance, Jean. She’ll probably be better off with someone like me.” Eren was being cocky, nudging Jean’s side with his elbow and he gave him a dirty look.

“I don’t think she would want a Titan shifter.” He scoffed under his breath and Eren had shoved his friend playfully.

“Do we all have a crush on her?” Armin spoke, his cheeks turning a light shade of red and everyone looked at each other.

All of them nodded their heads then quickly went into a discussion on who you would like better, who you would have a better chance being with but little did they know you had a secret little fling going on with your Captain behind closed doors. The secret being Levi’s idea because he didn’t want to cause any issues.

Levi had actually heard the argument from down the hall as he walked down to go do some work but once he heard your name get brought up, he froze in his spot, listening to the boys argue about their crush on you and continue talking about which guy had a better chance.

A sense of jealousy had washed over him, hearing them all talk about you without you being there also made him a bit angry. He finally got sick of listening to them bicker and walked into the room, all boys freezing and looking at Levi’s cold stare.

“All of you, outside. I don’t want to see you back in here until I say you’re done training.” He ordered them, watching them all scatter without a second thought and rush outside.

He moved his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose and looked down at the plate of cookies that he knew you made. He decided to move his feet towards the kitchen, opening the door up and seeing you near the sink.

“When you’re done, can you come to my office.” He asked, making you turn to meet his gaze and you simply nodded.

“For what?” You turned off the sink, drying off your hands and walked to where he stood by the door.

“Just need some help with something.” He mumbled, tilting your chin up and stared down at you, a evil little plan popping right inside his head as he tried to hide the smirk.

Your stomach had twisted into knots at how serious he looked, you couldn’t help but overthink about what he needed help with as you followed close behind him down the hallway until you both entered his office.

He closed the door behind you, being swift with locking it and went over to the window to see the guys outside training like he wanted them too, hearing their whines and complaints about doing so.

“What is it? Should I be worried?” You spoke first as he stayed silent, your body standing right behind his and placed your hand on his bicep.

“I missed you is all.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, his eyes moving down to meet yours and he lifted his hand up to caress your cheek, the soft contact made you melt right under his finger tips instantly.

“That’s all?” You teased, watching a small smile come across his lips and he shook his head.

“I don’t think you understand, I really missed you.” He said in a much lower tone, his hand sliding back to tangle in your hair and pulled your face closer to his.

Levi’s lips just barely brushed over yours, the dots now connecting in your head and you knew what he wanted and it made your heart pound inside your chest, you were sure he could hear how loud it was.

You were the one to close the gap, pressing your lips on his and he instantly backed you up until you were sitting on the edge of his desk, settling between your legs while his lips molded with yours.

The guys making noises outside the window had completely slipped your mind, it’s not like they could see you through the curtains and the thought of having to be more quiet than usual made you even more excited.

Levi had tugged on your hair, slipping his tongue in your mouth all while thinking about the small plan that had popped inside his head. He didn’t want to really out the secret hook ups you two were having the last few months but the way they had talked about you like you were a piece of meat, he was positive he wanted to show them who really owns you.

He wanted them to hear you moan his name and show them who really makes you feel good at the end of the day. Fuck the secrets, fuck everything. He’s just being the overpossesive jealous boyfriend that will make sure people know you’re off the market.

He wasn’t going to take it easy on you, of course he was going to pleasure you but he was going to make sure to over pleasure you to the point where your sounds will echo throughout this whole base. He was sure of it.

His hands had slipped down to your shirt, unbuttoning the plain white top and pushing it off your shoulders, throwing it to the ground while latching his teeth onto your bottom lip, pulling it back and letting it go as his eyes met yours.

He started to plant kisses down to your chest, his eyes burning into yours while his large hands slipped around and unclipped the bra you were wearing, watching it slide down your arms and onto the floor beneath your feet.

The butterflies swarming your stomach made you almost want to pass out, the way his eyes stared into yours, the intense yet satisfying eye contact he kept while his lips peppered kisses on your bare skin.

Soon he grew impatient with the tint underneath his tight pants only getting bigger as the material got tighter. He groaned, the sight of you instantly turned him on more than you could know and that was his weakness- he couldn’t control himself when he was around you.

He was addicted, he couldn’t get enough as he quickly tore off the rest of your clothing including his and his lips were back on yours in a much more heated kiss, not hesitating to slip his hand up between your legs, brushing his fingertips along your thigh, practically dancing on your skin before he had dipped his fingers to collect the wetness that pooled between your legs.

He knew he had a strong effect on you, it was proven every time he touched you and your cheeks started to grow hot while his fingertips slipped and rubbed between your folds, a soft hum leaving your lips and being muffled against his mouth which only caused him to further his actions.

A finger slid inside of you painfully slow, feeling the warmth and brushing it against your walls that almost made your back arch as your hand reached down to grip onto his wrist, feeling his smirk against your lips as his tongue swirled inside your mouth, the patience he had today to make you unravel multiple times, he wanted you completely weak.

A second finger slid in, continuing his slow pace and hearing the whine linger off your tongue made him pull back to keep his eyes on you, his hair hanging over his face and the smirk never leaving as his tongue ran over his lips, almost mesmerized over you.

“Don’t hold back, I want to hear those pretty moans.” His free hand grabbed a hold of your chin, brushing his thumb along your jawline and started to move his fingers at a much better pace.

It had made your toes curl, your fingernails digging into his wrist and your lips parting open at the pleasure as you let a soft moan slip out of your mouth, your surroundings being thrown out of your brain as the only thing you saw was Levi over you.

He could hear the cadets outside, the evil smile on his face only getting wider as he kept finger fucking you into oblivion, his fingers working wonders between your legs to the point where your head had fell back and multiple profanities had left your lips, making him instantly pepper kisses on your throat.

All you saw was stars as your vision began to blur, the knot building up in the pit of your stomach had made your legs tremble and deep inside your head you had felt embarassed at how fast his fingers could make you cum all over them, he knew your body from head to toe and what could destroy you and make you unravel in minutes.

The entire encounter had lasted for almost an hour, the way Levi had made you cum around his fingers and then around his length while he was deep inside of you.

The boys stood outside, training until they had heard muffling noises near the window. Eren didn’t want to be nosey considering they knew that was Levi’s office window but soon your moans had became loud enough for all of the color to drain from their faces.

The way you continuously moaned Levi’s name, the way he had you almost screaming while on the brick of an orgasm, they grew quiet, their cheeks flushing deep red and that’s when they knew to stop speaking about you.

They knew better to get involved with you or even continue their desperate crush, they knew that they didn’t stand a chance now. You were Levi’s and it was as clear as day.

The embarrassment and the humiliation had spilled over their minds for a long time after that. Now when they look at your face or talk to you, all they can remember is the endless sounds of you saying Levi’s name.

It was traumatizing almost. Not even bothering to look their Captain in the eyes for the first few days, feeling as if they even looked your way that they would be outside doing exercises until their collapse.

Levi had chuckled at the reactions, it was exactly what he wanted. He wanted their eyes to stare at the love bites he left on your neck, he wanted to remember your voice saying his name, it made his ego that much more bigger.

Now he knew they learned their lesson when it comes to what’s his.

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I didn’t really want to go into farrrrr detail with smut. I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging bc idk how much I’ll be able to post over the weekend🤧 quite a busy weekend for meeee.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[bubbledumbbinch]

Heya! Congrats on the 100+ followers!! Your writing is really good and I enjoy reading your works!

If you dont mind, what would be your headcanons on the TWST dorm leaders of what prefrences they have for a S/O? Like what would they want in an S/O? (Also Im sorry if this has already been asked Im also kinda new to your blog as well ;w;)

Hii!! And thank you 🥰🥺💕 that means a lot to me!! I hope you stay and continue to enjoy yourself here!This hasn’t been asked before so I hope you enjoy!!! ;w; I hope you all enjoy I had a fun time (and a difficult time) writing this out! I think I made it too long, again ;w;

I made this SFW uwu just some fluff!!!! But please keep in mind before you follow me, I MOSTLY POST NSFW works.

Warnings: slight story spoilers for episode 5, for Idia’s part, if u squint

Pairings: Dorm Leaders x Reader

I put things under a cut for length!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would probably want a partner who does well in school - at least someone who tries to! It would go against his own desires to do well in life if he has a partner who doesn’t have the drive to succeed like he does.

He isn’t particularly fond of people who have a lot of potential yet waste it on being lazy. Like I said before, it goes against his own morals.

I also see him wanting someone fun-loving! Riddle grew up in an environment where fun was essentially taboo so he would be drawn like a moth to a flame to someone who has so much energy in them. Remember one of his best childhood friends is Che’nya so he would probably not hate the idea of joking around and being silly once in a while!

Someone who would love sweets like him! Not too often so he could maintain his shape, but someone who would love to indulge him once in a while!

Riddle would love to see an S/O who makes time for him and the unbirthday parties that Heartslabyul hosts! He feels like a good dorm leader and seeing you make an effort to come makes him feel like a great boyfriend too!

“Ah, Y/N, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it today.” Riddle sighed to himself in relief. He feared his rose would come to the party late. “Ah, sorry Riddle! I was late because I was studying for Professor Crewel’s exam but I lost track of time!” You breathed out, a bit exhausted from running.

The redhead only nodded and smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it, my rose. We’ve only just begun the party, so no need to fret.” Riddle’s gentlemanly ways never failed to make your heart soar. “No no, I’ll make it up to you! I’ll bake you a tart sometime, you’ll let me right?” You playfully nudged at your boyfriend’s arm and smirked.

Riddle could only blush furiously. “Th-that would not be a bad idea. I suppose I would accept the gift graciously, dear, but only if we can cook it together. I believe it would be beneficial to both of us to learn!”

Leona Kingscholar

Someone who loves to nap with him like all the time

Leona would definitely want someone who is willing to praise him a lot. Growing up he never really had that and felt like he was overshadowed by his big brother, so this guy needs validation like crazy. Tell him how strong he is, how much you love him, how warm he is… he’ll scoff and look away but you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He secretly loves it.

I feel like Leona would like bratty tsunderes, for some reason. He would be the perfect teasing type for them and I think I can just picture Leona and his S/O getting into play fights that lead to something more, if you catch my drift.

Someone who can be “refined” enough for show so that when he brings you home to his family, they can accept you fully. The last thing he wants is his family pestering him about how his potential mate isn’t a good fit.

As tough as he may be he def wants someone at the end of the day to stroke his head and calm him down after a long and stressful day.

“Oi, herbivore, come here and be my pillow.” Leona’s gruff voice broke the silence of his room. He was sitting up on his bed while you studied on his desk. Giggling, you made your way into his bed, crawling over to where he was. Leona pushed your torso down gently and started nuzzling his head on your chest, and you could feel the vibrations coming from his body that was like a low growl. Or was it purring?

“Of course, anything for my big strong boyfriend, the best Magift player in the school, my one and only love~” you endlessly praised him, smiling at him as if he were a rare diamond. Leona only huffed as he wrapped his muscular arms around your form, effectively preventing you from leaving.

“Tch…. Damn right….” Leona mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me more while I start drifting to sleep?” Leona smirked. Running your fingers through his hair carefully, you obliged, feeling Leona’s breathing become more calm as you continued.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul would ALSO want someone who praises him, due to his years of being bullied. Call him beautiful, smart, tell him he’s the most cunning man on campus. He EATS IT UP. This man will swear on his life for you.

He also would want someone who has the ability to work hard… what? The Mostro Lounge needs extra workers sometimes! Azul thinks that if he can own the lounge, manage contracts, AND study hard for school, his S/O should be able to match him!

I can see Azul absolutely praising/spoiling his S/O too. Since you give him so much happiness in his life he should pay it forward, no? What would you like, a new dress/suit? A new piece of jewelry?

Someone !!! Loyal!!! Azul wants someone who he can feel secure with in a relationship, so he probably wouldn’t want you to flirt with anybody else since his insecurities will SPARK UP like crazy!

Azul wants someone who loves him for who he is, unconditionally!

“Angelfish… hello, good evening. I’m sorry if I am a bit more tired than usual, I just finished with ordering more inventory for the lounge and dealing with some paperwork.” Azul sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You dropped your bags on one of the chairs of the VIP room and walked over slowly to your octomer boyfriend. Bringing your arms to his shoulders, you slowly begin to knead and massage his arms gently. Azul groaned at the contact, muscles aching.

“How is this, Azul? I know how hard you work, you deserve to take a break too, sometimes…” you spoke gently into his ear, kissing the shell of it. The contact gave him slight goosebumps. “Ah, I would love to but, I have so much more to do… I know it’s going to be a late night for me, so why don’t you head on to sleep?” You tsked, upset with his answer. “I know it’s late Azul, that’s why I’m here. You know, if you keep doing this you’ll get wrinkles, right?”

“Ahem! Well. Then, this might be a good place to stop if that’s the case…” Azul huffed, standing up quickly to retire to his room, you in tow.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim wants someone who is cheerful! They may not be a ray of sunshine like he is, but I honestly can’t picture him with someone smug/gloomy. Kalim might be dense but he isn’t THAT stupid. I think he would be able to notice if you were upset which makes him upset.

Someone who is down for anything, Kalim would love to take you on a ride on his magic carpet at random hours of the day so be prepared to drop whatever you’re doing if you want to appease your impulsive boyfriend!

A fun loving person for sure, who isn’t super self conscious about what people think. If he asks you to dance with him he would really love for you to join! He wouldn’t want you to say something like, “oh, but I’m a bad dancer…” Kalim would shake his head and ask you why you would say that! It’s all about having a fun time together, right?

A patient lover is what Kalim would want as well, someone who’s kind, too. At the end of the day when Kalim is ready to sleep after his crazy antics, he wants a partner he can be able to lay next to and feel like himself.

Someone who loves him even if he weren’t rich, Kalim would want someone for their personality and not materialistic things or beauty. Kalim sees someone for their heart ! (*´꒳`*)

You yawned heavily while rubbing your eyes. Was that a tapping noise coming from the window? “Ugh…. What time is it?” Checking your phone, you saw it was 1:30am. You also had a text from Kalim.

*tap tap tap*

You groggily walked over to the window and opened the curtains to see Kalim sitting on his magic carpet with the biggest grin upon seeing you. Opening the window, you giggled lightly. “Good evening Kalim, fancy seeing you here so late.”

“Hi, Y/N!! I woke up and felt bored so, you wanna join me on a night ride around campus?” Kalim practically beamed at you, even this late at night. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. The boy’s positive energy also transferred to you, effectively waking you up.Stepping onto the carpet from your window was your answer. After getting situated, you kissed Kalim’s cheek and held his hand. “Of course Kalim, I would love to.”

Vil Schoenheit

Someone who can tough out his callous words and treatment. Vil might be a bit much, but the reason why he does this is because he does it with the goal of ultimately helping you. He only wants to see the best out of people, including but not limited to his little sweet potato!

Someone who is patient. He knows he checks who the most beautiful person is quite often and he doesn’t do it to annoy you, it’s just for his own personal validation issues. Lay a hand on his arm, back, or head to give him praises and let him know he’s beautiful to you no matter what.

Someone who is willing to pepper him lightly with kisses (not the face though, he has makeup on!). He definitely eats it up and loves it so much, he feels like you are treating him like a king. He’ll pay that back tenfold and give you beauty treatments, it’ll feel like you’re at the spa on a weekday!

Vil is constantly posting on Magicam, depending on whether you’re comfortable enough to be posted on there he would want to make sure you are okay with him constantly taking photos to be posted on there. Whether it be food you cooked, matching couples outfits, or even pictures of you without makeup, be ready to face comments of all sorts coming from his fans.

“Mira Mira on my phone… Currently, who is the most beautiful of all?” You heard Vil speak outside of his room. Currently you sat on the small chaise at the foot of his bed. Vil told you he needed to step out for a second, so you could get ready for bed now. After putting on your sleeping clothes, Vil finally came back in, seeming more irritated than before. His eyebrows furrowed and his body looked tense.

“Vil, are you alright?” You questioned him as you made your way to his bed, slipping under the covers. Vil only sighed and exchange a quick “Mm.” as he changed into his pajamas and came to join you. He was turned so his back was facing you and he was a bit distant. You knew he didn’t get the answer he wanted when he got those search results back. You didn’t know how to convince your boyfriend otherwise but you decided you needed to talk to him.

“Vil, darling…” you spoke gently as you nuzzled closer, your chest pressing into his back. Your arm wrapped around him to pull him closer, to which he responded with finally relaxing in your touch. “You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me, Vil, I don’t know if you realize how lucky I am to have such a loving, caring, and talented boyfriend like you. Your beauty is simply the cherry on top of the person I fell in love with. To me, you’re perfect. I love you.” You ended your tangent by placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder, dozing off.

You couldn’t see Vil but he trembled lightly as tears silently fell down his face. “Thank you… I love you too, my sweet potato.” Vil whispered into his pillow. With you, he always felt like the most beautiful person.

Idia Shroud

Personality wise, I don’t think Idia would be picky. He’s a shy person and honestly would be surprised he could get an S/O at all! So is Ortho!

Speaking of Ortho, Idia wants someone who is kind and loving to his little brother. Knowing his partner loves his brother would only make him fall for you harder!

Probably someone who would give Idia his own space until he finally felt comfortable and wanted to take it further, he would prob take a few days to even kiss you!!!

Idia wants someone to be his player 2 :) like actually, come over and game with him and he’ll probably be the happiest boy ever.

Big big bonus if you love anime, cosplay, gaming, etc. It’s one thing to be an otaku like Idia but when he has a partner to fully indulge in his interests with?? It’s a win-win situation for everyone! He wants to do a couple cosplay one day if he gets the courage to ask you.

Someone who won’t pressure him too much. If you remember how Riddle pressured Idia into trying to speak publicly, you know how much of a scary situation it put Idia in, even though he was able to do it. Stressing him out is just gonna make him unhappy :(

Someone who enjoys spending as much time inside as he does! I’m not talking a hikikomori but someone who wouldn’t be opposed to staying inside with him 99.9% of the time lol

“Y-Y/N-shi, would you like to g-go on a date with me soon?” Idia fumbled with his fingers, looking away as he asked you. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Idia, this is the first time you asked me to ‘go on a date’. Don’t tell me, are we actually going out somewhere?!”

“Eek! D-don’t be ridiculous, Y/N!!” He almost screeched the words out. Suddenly he pulled out a couple of VR headsets with hand controllers, and handed one to you. “Fuhehe, I just made a bunch of simulation locations. We could go to the park, a restaurant, even an amusement park..!” He grinned showing off his teeth.

You giggled at Idia’s enthusiasm, loving the way he gets after speaking about his own creations. “What a wonderful idea, Idia. Maybe we could take Ortho to the ‘amusement park’ too? We’ll be a big family.” You mused. Idia’s face brightened and a faint pink tinge covered his cheeks.

“F-family, huh? Ah, Y-Y/N-shi…. That would be n-nice…” Idia blushed as he considered what the future would bring for the both of you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus would also mostly not have preferences on a person’s personality. Like, he wouldn’t say something like: “I want someone shy vs someone bold.” Anything his child of man does is interesting to him and he’s entranced by you!

That being said, Malleus would not tolerate rudeness, disrespect to him, Lilia, or his fellow dorm mates, etc. He may love you but he values those bonds more, especially Lilia’s and his grandmother’s.

Malleus wants someone who is willing to teach him human tendencies, since he is curious about them. Malleus will also probably never stop asking you about your life in the previous world, and listen passionately as you describe the hobbies you had, family members, etc.

As long as you continue to love and treat Malleus like a normal person and with kindness, he will continue to love you endlessly. He’s so unused to it that he will feel so special as you only coo in awe instead of fear away, if he showed you a magic trick or maybe donned more of his draconic features like his tail or long claws.

You walked with Malleus under the bright moonlight in the woods near Ramshackle dorm. His height and charm never failed to impress you. And his face, he was so very handsome. His striking green eyes always made you feel hypnotized and his horns were so well taken care of, you almost wanted to reach out and-

“Hm, Child of Man… you do know it’s quite rude to stare, yes?” Malleus chuckled and suddenly broke the silence, making you gasp. “Ah, sorry Tsunotarou. I-,” searching your thoughts, you just couldn’t think of anything quickly enough. “I just couldn’t help myself. You’re very attractive.” You murmured, admitting defeat.

“Oh? Do I not intimidate you, my dear? Usually humans and even other fae fear my features and tend to shy away…” Malleus looked down in thought as he continued walking. You wrapped yourself around one of his arms as he walked, effectively stopping him in his place. “Well, you don’t intimidate me! I like being around you, so, let’s keep it that way. I want to stay with you for a long time so don’t get too tired of me okay, Malleus?”

Hearing you say his given name only made the fae’s heart beat harder in his chest. Surely you knew what you did to him. He smiled down at you, green eyes softening in your gaze.

“I assure you I won’t, little human.”

[conretewings]

A Game for Two (Vander x OC)

-Another short story featuring Rosemary. Set pre-canon. Fem oc x canon, mildly spicy

Rosemary didn't look up at first from the scattering of paperwork and orders in front of her on the long desk/work counter when she heard the loud buzzer of the door and creak of it opening, continuing to tap her well-chewed pencil on the wood surface.

Clearing her throat she began her usual speech, "Mornin'. Wares n' Repairs you break it we can probably fix it, what can-"

Hearing a set of familiar voices, she looked up and grinned as Vander, Claggor and Mylo entered the shop, the former two carrying something large and wrapped in a length of cloth. Mylo, himself holding a bulging duffle bag, scooted out of the way after getting the door open for the other two. Vander kept instructing Claggor to 'be careful now' as they navigated past a couple tables piled with various parts and finally plunked it on the heavy counter with a pronounced thud.

Setting her pencil down, she crossed her arms, "Well, hello boys. To what do I owe the pleasure? Assumin' it's got somethin' to do with this..." she vaguely gestured, "What is it?"

"Hey Rosemary!" the kids replied in unison, Claggor wiping his brow and Mylo already finding something that caught his eye.

"Mornin, Rosie," sighed Vander, exhaling and running a hand through his hair, "Afraid there's not much pleasure in this visit, unless ya count gettin' paid."

Giving him a quick top-to-bottom scan, she couldn't help the slight smirk that formed, nor missed his faint, brief one in response, "Among other things aye. So what am I lookin' at here?"

Vander carefully removed the cloth to reveal a tall, metal section of three beer taps, pulls and all. A couple hoses and tubes dangled from the back and he absently flicked one of them as he met her curious gaze.

"Damn thing's not workin'. Either won't draw beer from the keg, or won't pour without sprayin' everywhere. Kind of a problem when ya run a bar. Normally when they have a hiccup I can patch it m'self but not this time."

Rosemary was already looking it over, bending forward to poke and prod with a slender screwdriver she'd drawn from a tool pouch strapped to her waist. Vander's eyes were briefly distracted following the curve of her spine to her ass, then snapped them back to the machine when she said, "Well, ya brought it to the right person. Ah...I think I may see an issue right 'ere..."

"Can ya fix it?"

Standing to face him, she crossed her arms, "Ya remember who you're talkin' to? 'Course I can. When ya need it by?"

"Hmm..." Vander hummed, cleared his throat and asked, "You think...ya could have it done by tonight?"

Her eyes went wide, "Tonight?! Bloody hell Van. I'm good but that's a tall order."

"I know, and I apologize," a small, warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "But I only trust the best of the best with things like this."

"Oh ho, flattery won't get ya far with me, big guy, even if you're right," she smirked, leaning back against the counter, "Luckily for you I accept other forms of repayment."

Casually resting one hand on the counter himself, Vander relaxed his posture and gave her a broader smile, his voice taking on a sly tone, "I'm sure we can work something out..."

Mylo and Claggor, having overheard most of the adults conversation, caught each other's eyes and rolled them, Mylo poking a finger toward his mouth in a gagging gesture, then picked up a metal orb from a shelf, Claggor joining him in examining the object after a moment. They, Powder and Vi were used to the two's flirting, not that it didn't gross them out any less.

Rosemary quirked one eyebrow, "I have no doubt-" glancing behind Vander she loudly coughed and said quickly, "Mylo, Claggor please put that down."

Vander peered at them over his shoulder, brows knit and the boys froze instantly with a 'deer in headlights' look. The older man then sighed and pointed toward the door with a wearily gruff tone, "Why don't you two wait outside? I'll be out in a minute."

Carefully replacing the orb, Mylo grumbling about 'well if it's so fragile why's it sitting out?' the pair said their goodbyes and shuffled out the door.

Vander waited until they'd closed it before turning back to Rosemary, "Sorry 'bout that."

"They're fine. Damn thing is busted beyond repair anyway," she replied calmly, bent back over and unscrewing a small panel in the back of the mechanism, "I just keep it around for parts and the odd chance someone'll be dumb enough to buy it."

He watched her work in silence for a moment, again finding himself distracted; her deep chocolate brown hair, streaked with silver and securely held in place with a bandana, the curve of her hips and legs, though obscured by her cargo pants the way she was leaning they were still evident, and her lovely face; hazel eyes narrowed, the crows feet she hated but he assured her made her no less beautiful and nose adorably wrinkled in concentration. He had to look away and pretend something caught his attention just to refocus.

"Is it possible?" he asked at length, "If you're too busy..."

Rosemary stood, wiping her hands on the rag tucked into her pocket, "I can do it yeah..." moving in front of them she casually placed her fingers on the pile of orders she was still in the middle of and had been going over earlier, moving them discreetly out of sight, then leaned against the counter again and planted both hands on her hips, "It's gonna cost ya though."

"How much?"

Gradually, a wide, coy smile crept across her face, and she raised one hand, index finger up as she crossed one leg gracefully over the other, "The price is...one date."

Vander paused, momentarily at a loss, then a low, rumbling chuckle escaped his throat, a grin of his own appearing. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, head tilted downwards slightly to study her from under his cocked eyebrow, "I see how it is. Very sly, Rosie."

"You have called me foxy, after all..." she winked.

He only huffed out another small laugh, taking a step toward her, "That's a steep price you're askin'."

She mirrored his action, moving forward a degree, "You're a smart man. I'm sure you'll come up with somethin'."

"What happened to flattery not workin'?"

"It's called a compliment, Van."

"Well then, guess I have no choice..."

As they had been talking, they'd slowly sauntered closer and closer to each other so that now they stood only inches apart, close enough for her to smell the smokey, slightly musky scent that always clung to him, almost causing her composure to slip. He kept an even expression, even as the whiff of her floral soap mixed with engine grease and innocent yet seductive gleam in her eyes greatly tested him.

Meanwhile outside, Claggor was carefully peering through a gap in the curtain over the barred window. Behind him, Mylo grumbled, "Are they flirting again?"

"Uh huh..." he replied with a head shake, "They really need to just date and get it over with."

"For real though...like we all know they wanna bang-"

"Ew dude, shut up I don't need to picture that!"

"....yeah sorry me neither..."

Rosemary noticed them, and with a grin, raised one hand to softly lay it on Vander's chest. She just saw the boys shared look of disgust before they vanished from sight. Following a brief pause of silence, during which she and Vander continued to stare each other down and tried to ignore the heightened electricity in the air, Rosemary let out a soft laugh and gave him a wry smile, "How long we gonna keep dancin' around this, eh?"

"You know I'm not much of a dancer." he shrugged, resting one hand on her waist.

"Shame. I could teach you."

"I don't doubt it...though I do know a few moves of my own."

She moved closer still, hand trailing upwards across the warm, firm muscle under his shirt to cup the scruff of his jaw, relishing the low rumbling sound he emitted and murmuring, "I would love to see them sometime..."

Large hand sliding to her hip, he tugged her in so now they were pressed together completely, feeling smug about her involuntary gasp, the other hand brushing aside the few wisps of hair that'd fallen from her bandana, purposely letting his fingers linger longer than necessary, "Maybe sometime I'll show ya..."

Thus continued the sometimes playful, sometimes tense game of flirty bantering that had been going on between them for some time now, neither certain when exactly it had truly begun nor who had started it. Over time it had gradually become a sort of badge of unspoken honor to be the boldest and sort of 'win' that particular encounter without giving into the ever-growing desire simmering between them. At this point it wasn't a question of if they'd eventually surrender themselves to it, but when and who would cross that line. Pride and stubbornness, however, had thus far kept the fire contained.

Rosemary was thus briefly startled into silence by the sudden sensation of his warm, firm body pressed against hers; a part of her wondered what this might feel like without clothing between them and a traitorous shiver raced up her spine. She felt those threads of stubborn pride grow dangerously weak, made only worse by the intensity of his sea-grey eyes as they gazed into her own. That same part of her, in that moment, would have loved nothing more than to drag him to her bed and finally, finally experience the primal passion and release they'd both craved for ages however-

She stretched up on her toes, pressing herself into him even more, relishing the equally startled yet dangerous expression he shot her and used the hand on his face to pull him closer and murmur near his ear, "Why don't you then..."

She felt him tense, fingers digging more into her hip, his breath coming a little heavier, but before he could do or say anything else she gave his cheek a brief kiss and gracefully spun out of his grasp, "But, maybe next time. I do hafta get this order finished for ya by tonight after all."

He froze for a second, still in the same position he'd been in before composing himself, drawing a slow, deep breath and meeting her gaze while absently and frustratedly drumming his fingers on the counter. A moment later he was back to his usual calm, somewhat gruff self. Whether she knew it or not, her cheeks blazed with color and despite the smug expression he could see the longing ache behind those gorgeous eyes.

Vander coughed and stepped away toward the door, "Yeah. Good point...maybe next time."

"I'll swing by with it when I'm done. Now get outta here you're a busy man after all."

"I really appreciate it, and you Rosie."

She had already turned away to start working, probably partially to hide her reddened face and waved nonchalantly over her shoulder, "Yeah yeah, I expect full payment when service is complete. Ya know our rules. Later big guy."

He lingered for one more moment, gazing at her back longingly before opening the door and stepping out. Rosemary exhaled loudly once she heard the click of it close, setting her tools down and leaning her elbows on the counter. Tapping her forehead on it repeatedly, she grumbled, "You're a right fool, Rosemary...why ya keep doing this to yourselves?"

Outside, with the kids trailing alongside him and chatting jovially, Vander sighed and pinched his brow as he muttered to himself, the sound lost in the din of the Lanes, "You're a right fuckin' idiot Vander...why ya keep doing this to each other?"