#and a really pretty old book pattern so the back is going to be various black low volume patterns + Stuff I Like

[asterdeer]

1 sentence horror story: “‘I like hand sewing better than machine sewing,’ the quilter with chronically shaky hands and hypermobile fingers realized”

[marzipanandminutiae]

Dear marzi, for reasons of trying not to give period characters too modern fetishes in my smut, may I have some recs as to where I may find some of that olde fetish content you've previously seen?

On the Wikipedia page for the "corset controversy," unfortunately!

Historians have been taking obvious tightlacing fetish letters seriously for...way too long. And sometimes still are. Confirmation bias is a hell of a thing. Of course, there's no way to 100% tell which letters are fetish fuel and which are real, but generally any that use particularly heightened language or common erotic tropes- or that seem to fly in the face of evidence from extant garments, unedited videos, stock and advertisements from real corset companies, etc. -are to be viewed with suspicion.

(The same is true for letters used now to claim that nipple piercing was a real Victorian trend- for, indeed, the only source is anonymous magazine letters and many of them fall into the same obvious patterns as the tightlacing letters. One DOES describe the alleged process in detail...but it's basically the same as the process for ear-piercing, a service jewelers did commonly offer back then. Just applied to nipples. So whether it's real or not is still uncertain, but it's highly doubtful that large numbers of Victorian women were running around with nipple piercings given that no extant nipple rings have been found, such piercings are never mentioned in letters or diaries or other more concrete sources, etc.)

Besides that, I've seen glimpses of most modern fetishes in various sources:

the Psychopathia Sexualis, a medical manual of "sexual mental illness" (in heavy quotes because things like homosexuality and gender variance are mentioned under that heading), talks about everything from a fetish for tight boots and gloves on women, to bloodplay (initiated by a woman, actually, who wanted to drink her husband's blood), to force-femming, to some very elaborate femdom scenarios that I hope the sex workers in question were paid well for. Of course, since the cases are anonymous, these are also difficult to confirm- but clearly someone had THOUGHT of them, since they're written into the book.

And I've seen at least some of them in other sources, too, including some of the magazines that published the nipple piercing and tightlacing letters. The Englishwomen's Domestic Magazine was notorious for its letters on tightlacing, tight gloves, spanking, etc.

Photographic porn was definitely a thing almost as soon as photography came into being. A lot of it is pretty vanilla, but I could swear I'd seen piss kink photos (with urine painted in after development) before the blog where they were hosted went defunct

James Joyce's letters to his wife get into farting and scat fetish territory. Yes, really.

Speaking of letters, there was one man living here in Boston who, in the late 19th century, wrote letters to his wife describing erotic dreams of her as a giantess who pissed on him and then ate him. I cannot remember his name and it's going to drive me insane all day, but he was the head of Boston's censorship organization, the Watch and Ward society and these letters were first released by his own children for an unauthorized biography written five years after his death. Guess there was little love lost there.

BDSM is old. Like, really old. Old, to quote the sacred texts, as balls. I'm pretty sure there are sexual flagellation texts going back to the Renaissance, but don't quote me on that.

Basically, Rule 34 can be back-applied, too. If it existed, there was a fetish for it, probably. Of course, things that specifically involve modern technology or properties are out, but beyond that...the sky is the limit

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Grad school Spencer in his little white coat and glasses getting his chem PhD and he just spills everything and goes 🫠 because he sees English lit major reader walking by from the lap window.

because I will die on the hill that this actually happened.

hiiiii 💕

like 23 year old phd candidate spencer in his white lab coat is everything to me and i took some liberties so bear with me :)

spencer reid x female reader

So he’s working in his lab doing something sciencey and smart

He’s already a phd in math and engineering which makes him something a myth in his departments

Part of his program makes him work as a TA for a chemistry course which is how he meets you

You’re a Literature major and Sociology minor and in his Chemistry class. It’s filled with many students, but Spencer wouldn’t need an eidetic memory to remember you

He never found the courage to talk to you, thinking that you’ve probably already have a boyfriend on a count for how pretty and smart you are.

Every Tuesday and Thursday he sees you walk by his lab. He forces himself to not recognize the pattern, but it’s impossible when you’re so magnetic to look at and think about and patterns are so recognizable to his brain. And out of risk of you thinking he’s a stalker, he decides it’s safer if he ignores you walk by

What Spencer doesn’t realize is that you’ve also noticed his pattern of being in the lab the same days you’re in the Sociology wing.

One day he’s busy his lab, and he can see you through the big picture window. He feels his hands grip the beaker and his grateful that the chemical liquids he’s working with today are something as simple as water

As he gazes through the big window he watches you walk with a big stack books in you arms

He walks to the sink, needing an extra 30mLs of water in his beaker, but as his does he accidentally trips over a stool and crashes to the floor

He jumps up, and sees you look at him in horror. Which wasn’t the way he planned on you looking at him (he forced the thoughts of the various ways you could look at him from his mind)

Suddenly you rush into the lab and just as Spencer tries to stammer about maintaining proper hygiene protocols in the lab, your hands are gripping his wrist

“You’re bleeding” you say, and Spencer watches as you maintain steady, tight pressure on his open wound to stop the bleeding

“I didn’t realize” Spencer says with a stained smile. He’s planned on how he’d approach you over and over again in his mind ever since he saw you in the Chemistry class he TA’ed last semester “I was preoccupied”

“It’s alright, Doctor Reid. You’re not going to need stitches or anything. But let me put some bandaging on it.”

Spencer gulps, as he tries to remember how to breathe. All he can focus on is how your hair frames your face perfectly and how your perfume smells like earl grey tea and honey and apples

“You can call me Spencer, Y/N” He whispers, listening to as you practically drag him by the wrist to the first aid kit

“You know my name?” You ask, a look or wonder and amusement washes over your face

Spencer jerks his head back not in pain nor in discomfort, but rather in confusion. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I know your name. You’re Y/N.”

You lick your bottom lip as a small smile plays on the corner of your mouth. “there were a lot of students in your class last semester. I’m not very good at chemistry. Nor do I have a particularly memorable face.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows in disbelief. You gently placed a bandage on his cut. “You did very well in the class. And as for your face, it’s very memorable. More than memorable, honestly. It’s gorgeous—oh, no I didn’t—I don’t intend to be forward…”

“I think you got a memorable face too, Doc” You say, smiling as you sit knee to knee on the lab stools

“It’s Spencer,” He says, blushing as he nudged his hand forward to just barely touch yours

You stand, smiling as you do so, “Doc suits you. You’re kinda a legend and you’re really cute when you flush like that when I call you Doc”

[lynnlyrae]

The lost name

I think Vanitas’s real name could be Deucalion. 

In this text I’ll cover my reasons for choosing this name, its connection to the story of Noah and the myth of Pandora and how would it correlate with the relationship of Vanitas and Noé. 

Posting this as an actual answer to @scar-eyejolteon14 as promised here. 

The lore of Deucalion 

It all started when I was wondering what kind of name I could give Vani if I were to draw him as a Chasseur (ordinary human, who’ve never met Luna and never inherited their name). I began with the most obvious thing: checking Vani’s wiki page for existing details and references. I went with his zodiak sign, Aquarius, as the staring point, because stars and celestial bodies are recurring theme in VnC and well why not?.. 

The next obvious place to go is wiki page for Aquarius. Here we come across a fun thing: Babylonian star catalogues. They contained lists of stars, constellations, and planets. 

I found the first picture on a somewhat strange website, but whatever. This is a fragment of a circular star calendar, which belonged to the library of King Ashurbanipal (668-627 BC) in Nineveh. The second picture is a star list, found in Uruk (320-150 BC). It had information on all constellations such as names, number of stars, their distance, etc. Just so we understand that astronomy was a big deal there. 

And yes, the capital of Babylonia was Babel — that one city with the tower (The Book of Genesis, Genesis 11) which is referenced in VnC. 

(Ch. 21) 

What did Babylonian astronomers think of Aquarius? Well, they associated this constellation with the Ea. “The Great One” is his title. He’s also known as Enki, god of magic, fertility, creation, etc., who was originally a water god (and his temple name E-apsu means “house of the watery deep", idk I think it sounds really cool). The water theme is not random: Aquarius was also associated with floods. Water was sacred, but also deadly: floods were source of destruction. 

Later, a Latin author Gaius Julius Hyginus quoted an Alexandrian historian Hegesianax that Deucalion is to be identified with Aquarius, "because during his reign such quantities of water poured from the sky that the great Flood resulted." Again, we see the idea of destructive flood. But where does Deucalion bring us? To Noah. Or Noé, if you will. 

(Ch. 1) 

Deucalion and Noah 

Both Deucalion and Noah are central figures of the classical flood myth, which exists in various cultures. While these two are probably among the most popular figures, there are other examples, including Utnapishtim, who was warned by the god Ea (who also created humans among other things) about the flood and instructs him to build a boat and save his family and animals. The stories of Deucalion and Noah follow the same pattern with some minor variations. But Deucalion is the one who is associated with Aquarius, the constellation that symbolizes the coming of the flood and all its terrors, while Noah/Noé is associated with salvation of human race and all living things. 

Deluge, 1864, by Aivazovsky. This painting depicts a beginning of a biblical story about the near-end of human race. It’s pretty much the same in other versions of the story. 

Deucalion and Pandora 

What’s interesting, Deucalion’s myth is directly related to Pandora’s myth. Deucalion is usually described as the son of Prometheus, while Deucalion’s wife Pyrrha was the daughter of Pandora. And Pandora’s myth is among the core themes of “Pandora hearts”. If we consider the possibility of VnC and PH’s universes being connected, the idea of Deucalion being Vani’s true name would also make sense… For example, this theory covers the topic.  

Left – Noah gives Thanks for Deliverance, 1901, by Domenico Morelli. Here we see Noah from the Old Testament, with his family, as they give thanks for their safe deliverance back to land after surviving the flood. A double rainbow signifies God’s presence.

Right – Deucalion and Pyrrha, 1636–1637, by Rubens. This painting shows a scene from the story of Deucalion and Pyrrha as told by Ovid in Metamorphoses. After surviving the disaster, they had to throw stones over their shoulders, each of which became a new human being.

Even if worlds of Pandora Hearts and Vanitas no Carte don’t exist in the same universe, there clearly is thematical relation between the two stories, one being about hope and another about despair. What’s even more interesting, there was actually a whole discourse about what’s hidden in Pandora’s jar: is it true hope or is it actually an illusion of salvation which hurts even more than actual despair? The translation of the word elpis, the spirit of hope in the jar, is actually neutral in its meaning. It’s simply “hope”, not inherently “good” or “bad”, which leaves a lot of space for interpretation in media. 

Vanitas and Noé

Volume 3 cover implies that Vanitas will be marked by an Archiviste. It’s unknown whether this Archiviste would ne Noé or Machina or even some other. I hope it’s gonna be Noé, because it would break a specific border between them and it will definitely be very dramatic, but Machina might do it for the sake of obtaining information, which is her main thing. Anyway, regardless of who does this, when and why, I believe that this moment is probably the real possibility for revealing the true name of Vanitas. 

On a side note, it would also be kinda interesting if Noé gets to know Vani’s true name, but it will still be hidden from us, the readers. There’s is also a possibility that Vani’s true name will not be revealed even in this situation. His goal is to erase everything related to the Vampire of the Blue Moon, and I guess that would mean erasing everything about himself too. But in Ch1 he promises to stay here even after he is gone, so it might imply that at least someone will get to remember him — perhaps as Xxxx the human, not Vanitas, kin of the Blue Moon. Which might mean going against Luna’s request… 

(Ch. 50) 

And, well, Xxxx could de Deucalion. Just think about it: wouldn’t it be cool if both Vani and Noé were given names with similar symbolism behind it and later both assume the moniker of Vanitas?

Plus the whole “loop” thing, like “memory loop” theory and “time loop theory” (here and here) again adds to the idea of connection between them. The loop where ends and beginnings melt into each other, like Ouroboros eating its own tail. The loop between Vanitas and Noé, where they will have to understand pointlessness and hopefulness of life – and what does in mean to save and be saved. 

The ultimate hope of survival becomes fleeting dream for all caught in this loop. But every dream is destined to end, as pointed by Saint Germain. And what will happen, when Vanitas and Noé will have to wake up from the dream of their own? What will prevail - death and futility of life or salvation and rebirth? 

(Ch. 55) 

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 6 - Edwardian service worker fashion

Time for some Downstairs fashions! They have a lot less variety as we usually see them in uniform that they usually keep over at least one season change, so I’ll do this all in one go.

Firstly, the everyday maid uniforms that Anna and Gwen and later on Ethel and Jane wear (I assume they just handed down Gwen’s old uniforms?) throughout the first two seasons, pretty simple, greyish green frocks with long sleeves and cuffs, a ruffled front, short standing collars, plus a neat little printing pattern to loosen up the overall image. High waistbands, which will lead to some clash between fashion and practicality once the 1920s roll in. Interestingly, Anna wears various aprons to this, but they usually have some lace additions on them, as have the little maid caps, which seems like an unnecessary bother for an article of clothing you have to replace somewhat frequently. But then, this is the fancy Grantham household.

They wear black dresses instead to events when they have guests Upstairs, with little lace collars and notably frillier aprons and caps. Honestly, the shape of the upper parts of these aprons make them look a lot less effective at their job and a lot more like decorative additions. But then so are the headbands they wear to this, which are really much more bands than they are caps. This becomes more obvious in season 2 when the headbands lose a lot of their frill.

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

Daisy is not in uniform; she usually wears an apron over a simple, cute dress with a stripe print that, from season 1 to 2 goes through exactly one change: It gets a white collar attached to it. I cannot clearly remember if she ever, at any time of the year, wore something with long sleeves? Perhaps she doesn’t need to inside the house, working mostly in the kitchen.

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

Check out the variety – Mrs Hughes doesn’t get to wear one, but two black dresses on the job! In all honesty, they are nice dresses, all Edwardian stern matron outfit with long fitted sleeves and high collars, but the pinstripes on the first dress and the blackwork and lace on the second put this a tier above the maid uniforms. She’s the head of the household; she can afford some nice fabrics. And even a little pearl brooch that she wears on both dresses.

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

Granted, Anna also either can afford a nice pinstripe suit with a velvet collar or, also possible, she got it from one of the misses Upstairs. Not unlikely, as we later see her wear a dress that once belonged to Mary, and Sybil is already in the habit of dressing up her friends among the servants. I like that Anna chose this outfit for the city; it gives her a touch of worldliness that she doesn’t usually have at Downton.

For a walk the countryside, she chose this cream coat with shell buttons instead. Okay, can we talk about the pin tucks?? Because, that’s a lot of work, both in the front and the back. I know we are way past the invention of the sewing machine, but still, gotta put in the bother to set them all in so neatly. I’m also wondering why she didn’t put the velvet ribbon on her hat for the city; it seems a perfect match for the collar of the pinstripe suit. But anyway, this is the outfit in which Anna makes her love declaration, and she looks positively angelic. Subtlety whomst?

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

Gwen’s coat looks a lot more down-to-earth. If it’s a Tartan, it may well be a tweed in my book… The color is not very exciting, but the coat looks comfortable and well-worn, and the hat is just the cutest. That embroidered ribbon! It’s lovely, although it doesn’t match Gwen’s own coat nearly as much as the outfit she gets from Sybil.

Because for some reason, light blue-swamped Sybil just happens to have a walking suit in her wardrobe that fits Gwen perfectly and is a color as if it was made to match her hat. Whatevs. It does definitely help Gwen’s impression along, even though it turns out later that hiding her job as a maid was not in her favor. I hope she got to keep the suit though; it’s not like Sybil will miss it.

Also, they look like girlfriends out on a date here.

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

And back to Mrs Hughes. Her Sunday dress is all flowers, and she wears her pearl brooch again. It’s a bit dowdy, I admit, but I guess a woman her age won’t pull of the tailored coats and walking suits that Anna and Gwen do. Not that her own coat is anything to sneeze at, but since I can’t seem to get it in decent light, I don’t even know what color it is. But I have to give it to her: Her hat game is strong, especially in the second picture. Look at the plumage; is this a Crawley hand-me-down?

[adobe-outdesign]

Do you have any thoughts on the Bronzor line?

I always really liked this line. I'm a big fan of object-mons that are more on the stylized and abstract side, and these guys have some really cool markings and body types.

In Bronzor's case, it sports a blue circular body with two eyes in the middle and a series of repeating circles, which give it radial symmetry. It's somewhat "alien" looking due to not really having a normal face, which I dig.

If I had one thing to critique about it, it would be that it's hard to tell what it is. Bronzor here is actually a mirror, which one had a reflection in the past. This is our only mirror-based Pokemon so far, so it feels like a bit of a shame that it's not clear that is what its supposed to be; I could easily see a mirror on its backside. Maybe they didn't want to do it due to Gen 4's sprite limitations?

Oddly enough, it actually has a beta backsprite that's a repeat of the front; in other words, it was meant to reflect at one point, just in a more abstract way than literally having a reflective surface back there. Like I said, what we got is by no means bad, but I do like this angle just a bit more for conveying the theme better and just being all-around weird.

Speaking of all-around weird, Bronzong exists. The line suddenly going from a mirror to a bell feels a bit random in theory, but it's supposedly based off of an old Japanese myth involving mirrors being melted down to make a bell. Also, the similar visual styles help connect the two in a way that makes them feel like they belong together, what with the colors, markings, and faces.

Speaking of faces, I LOVE Bronzong's face. First, those red eyes of its are actually three-dimensional, giving it a slightly dead-eyed look that's pretty unique:

And secondly, that mouth. Instead of just doing a generic smiley line, it instead has a freaky set of rectangular, teeth-like markings wedged firmly between the eyes. This works with the other various patterns, such as the stripes on the "arms" and the darker patches above the eyes, and serves to make it look all the more strange and alien.

I also love how the "arms" are really just the two structures on either side of a dōtaku (a type of Japanese bell that Bronzong's is based off of). The shape and the way they're on top of the body anthropomorphizes it just enough without loosing the bell-like aspects.

My only little nitpick is that it's strange that the colors change slightly between stages, with Bronzong being more of a teal instead of a blue and having red eyes instead of yellow. Both palettes are fine, but I don't see why they couldn't have just picked one and stuck with it. Obviously that's a minor thing however, and I still really like the 'mon regardless.

Overall, this is a very good line. The designs are interesting and unique, helped by the interesting body shapes and patterns, and I love the unconventional faces. Definitely a win in my book.

[markantonys]

Any thoughts on what you think the show will do going forward with Thom? Considering his presence so far has been curtailed and you mentioned you didn't think he'd be part of his canon endgame romance. It's just something I've been wondering about.

i read that the reason thom wasn't in s2 is because the actor had a scheduling conflict, and he will be back for s3! i'd imagine he'll have a pretty similar role as the books of being a mentor to elayne & nynaeve, mat, and maybe rand at various points. (his book endgame romance is only relevant for like 20 pages of the entire series haha so removing that wouldn't remove much of anything for him in terms of screentime/activities.)

i predict that he'll be re-introduced in s3 by crossing paths with elayne and nynaeve during their travels, and he and elayne will recognize each other and we'll get some trakand family backstory, which would tie in neatly with us meeting at least the brothers and hopefully also morgase onscreen this season. (i wouldn't be mad if thom was only morgase's ex-friend and ex-bard and not also her ex-lover, but considering the show doesn't have an "old man dating hot woman young enough to be his (grand)daughter" fetish like the books do, i can accept thom/morgase in the show since it would just be 1 instance rather than part of an annoying pattern. plus, i'd imagine show!morgase might actually be allowed to be a middle-aged woman instead of the book version where it was like "sure she has kids in their 20s, but she's still only like 38 and super hot and young-looking!" and so she and thom having been lovers when elayne was little would potentially not be as drastic an age gap as ~50-year-old thom dating ~20-year-old morgase.)

anyway, that's my guess for s3 thom, and he could still hang around with mat in the later seasons because why not (and mat doesn't really have any other mentor figure, like how perrin has elyas and rand has a whole bunch, so it would be nice for him to get a mentor). as for what he's up to in between, if elayne and nynaeve reunite with rand's traveling party at the end of s3/beginning of s4, as i dearly hope they will, then that would create an opportunity for thom to do some daes dae'mar mentoring of rand as well!

another possibility is that thom will encounter the full party early in s3, before people have split up on their roadtrips, and rand and mat will find out right away that he's alive. but i like the idea of him running into only elayne and nynaeve, and neither they nor he have any idea they have mutual friends, and then later they all run into rand and mat together and everyone's like "wait, how do YOU know each other?!" hahaha

[smolhoneybat]

hi! i've been a fan for quite a while. i really admire how you seem to articulate, i found myself becoming more introspective with every video. also it's really nice to see someone talking about games and series i really love. aside from that, i wanted to ask if you had any recommendations like games, books, shows, movies?

hi hi!! thank you so much, pinning the words down is hard but worth it haha 💛

Ooh I have so many... obviously there's the games and shows I've talked about on my channel but standouts would have to be Darkwood, Nier Automata and Arcane but ALSO

Games: -A Space for the Unbound: chill fetch quests in a small town in rural Indonesia, finish your summer bucket list with your gf, pet cats, dive into the subconsciousnesses of your neighbours!

-Ender Lilies: metroidvania platformer with some tight controls like Hollow Knight, gorgeous artwork and music, you play as Lily, a young amnesiac priestess trying to purify the spirits of the dead and stop the plague ridden rain that won't stop falling, you're small and weak but you recruit different spirits to fight with you but it never feels overwhelming or bloated, really enjoyed it

-Signalis: survival horror as an android looking for her gf, she made a promise and she's going. to. fulfil. it. Dystopian future in space with lots of good old rusty machine body horror, strange senses of time and memory and there's some puzzles in there too.

-Sunless Sea: Victorian London was moved underground by bats. Don't worry about it. Go sail the seas and try and turn a profit without losing your mind from the Horrors ^.^ (deceptively a lot of reading in this, plays like a management sim meets VN)

-Omori: 4 years ago Something happened. Omori dreams his days away in his room, carefully not thinking about that Something. Some of the game is in his colourful dream worlds and some out in the real world. Fights are always tinged with emotional rock paper scissors as how you, your friends and enemies feel will affect the fight! He's about to move house and an old friend comes knocking on the door...

(-alsoPathologicisgoodyesI'moneofthoseyoutubers)

Books: -Va11-Hall-A: I...don't know whether to put a VN under games or books so I'm putting it between the two. You're a barista in a cyberpunk kinda world, you listen to patrons while making them drinks and chat. (It's chill but sometimes gets pretty heavy and has a lot of mature topics in it for the record.) -Deathless by Cathrynne M. Valente: an alternate history book that has one foot in the Russian Revolution and the other in fairytale. Marya Morevna marries Koschei the Deathless, and goes back to his kingdom. She makes friends with various folklore creatures, checks in on her sisters who all married birds and her old and new lives begin to collide.

-The Locked Tomb trilogy by Tamsyn Muir: sci-fi necromancers vie to become the next right bony hand of God, first book is a murder mystery, second is a grim tale by a survivor of the first but something is Wrong and you know it is, third is an oddly domestic political tragedy and I loved them all so much, cannot recommend the audiobooks in particular enough (as the first is a murder mystery, all the voices the narrator does are both incredibly well done but let me pinpoint exactly who was speaking even when I couldn't remember their names, also she voiced Daniella in Haunting Ground!)

-The Gentleman Bastards series by Scott Lynch: small orphan becomes a conman in fantasy Italy. Ends up being drawn into some political intrigue and fucks around finds out, frequently!

-Children of Time: Spiders! Once upon a time an arrogant scientist decided to infect monkey with a virus that would encourage rapid evolution within cooperative species but...it reaches jumping spiders. They have their own form of sign language with vibrational tappy patterns against the ground and wiggling their palps! Scientist's consciousness has melded with an AI and is waiting for her monkeys to become intelligent enough to contact her

Misc: -Dungeon Meshi: do you want to learn about the ecosystem of a dungeon while also figuring out how to cook the creatures inside and watch a guy with a monster special interest live his absolute best life? Yeah you do! (I'm really enjoying this rn so ye)

-Mabel: podcast about a home health carer for an old lady who's only living relative, Mabel, is missing. Anna, the nurse, starts leaving her voicemails like a diary and slowly gets drawn into family secrets, fairy logic and goes exploring places she shouldn't (this one does not shy away from heavy topics including serious child abuse and its effects so if that's not for you then leave this one be)

[nimuetheseawitch]

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

what hair products do you use?

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Elliot Schafer (In Other Lands) - I reread this book so often

Hawkeye Pierce (MASH)

Johnny Jaqobis (Killjoys)

Vala Mal Doran (SG-1)

Rodney McKay (SGA)

Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place)

Anne Shirley (Anne With An E - I did love the books as a kid, but this adaptation grabbed my heart)

Sabriel and Lireal (Abhorsen/Old Kingdom Trilogy)

Various others depending on what I'm into at the moment - fiction has always been my comfort and escape

which cryptid being do you believe in?

I answered this question here, but in summary, I'm generally pretty skeptical. In a slightly different answer, I love the idea of cryptids being wholly real, just the kinds of animals we haven't seen often enough to ever believe are real enough. There are so many "new" species "discovered" all the time, and we've barely scratched the surface of so many things. We've catalogued only a small portion of the species of fungus in the world, we keep on learning really weird new things about lichen, and every time we send down a new submersible to the deep ocean we find something new. We've only seen a handful of giant squid specimens, but they're real. The world is still full of mystery.

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

In the room I'm currently in? Only one. But I went and counted the ones in the kitchen, and I own at least 8 more (I think I have some in storage in my camping gear, and this isn't counting the bladder-style ones for backpacking) and my partner owns a similar number. And this is after we've moved several times and gotten rid of water bottles each time. I used to work as a camp counselor and then backpacking instructor, so....I have a lot of hydration options.

what hair products do you use?

Oh man, this is a question. Right now I'm at a weird place with hair products because I'm trying to find some new ones.

I'm using the end of one type of dandruff shampoo because I don't want to throw it out, but then I'm switching to Vanicream's dandruff shampoo (I'm switching a lot of products to allergen-free and unscented because I've been having issues).

And I just switched to Vanicream conditioner.

I currently use a styling cream from Curl Smith but am just using that until it's gone and then switching back to SheaMoisture's Coconut and Hibiscus Style Milk and hoping it does what I want it to do (it's been like 3 years since I used it, and it was the last leave-in conditioner-type thing I really liked).

I also am currently using a Ouidad gel, but it mostly is just a very expensive product that doesn't do it's job nearly as well as the very cheap gel I used to use. Gonna switch to Vanicream's hair gel once I run out of that because one of my big issues with my old gel was scent, and Vanicream is supposedly scent-free.

I also have SheaMoisture's Coconut and Hibiscus Mousse, which I've been using along with water to refresh my curls on days 3-5 of my wash.

It seems like a lot, but I literally only wash my hair at most once a week, so whatever. I also occasionally try out some deep conditioners and masks, and I use a baby shampoo as a clarifying shampoo about once a month. And there's the Manic Panic Enchanted Forest dye that I'm using until I finish growing out the dyed bits (I'm sad to see the green hair go after this many years, but I'm just so tired of dying it). I also am a big fan of my Denman brush, which I only use in the shower, and my satin cap that I sleep in - it has done more for reducing frizz than any single product I have ever used.

I have been on a hair journey recently, but I'm nearing the goal because I was able to leave my hair down every single day this week instead of throwing it in a messy bun or braid because my curl pattern frizzed out. That was probably way more info than you needed, but it's kinda cool to see it all written out. I have spent about two decades trying to figure out my curly/wavy hair ever since I chopped it all off in high school and discovered I had curls.

weirder asks

[kitkatt0430]

🎱 🪐 🔪 🌿

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

User Subscriptions: 177 Kudos: 39,919 Comment Threads: 2,449 Bookmarks: 8,391 Subscriptions: 1,343 Word Count: 2,191,216 Hits: 373,375

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

My dad has retired which means I can spend more time with him. Since I live and work near him & my mom, I can meet up with him for lunch sometimes on weekdays.

I've gotten back into reading new mangas lately now that there's a Barnes and Noble just down the street from me. Before that the closest book store was a resell shop that, though nice, doesn't have the greatest manga selection. With mangas and comic books I tend to prefer physical books over ebooks, so it's been really nice to be able to browse a large selection again without having to drive fifteen to twenty minutes.

I've been reorganizing my kitchen which probably sounds boring, but I've gotten some new dishware and glassware that's brighter and more colorful than my old stuff and so the open shelves actually look really fun now. Since I started indoor renovations last year, I've really been enjoying how having things brighter and more colorful help lift my mood, so I've been trying to extend that where I can.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmmm, well... I've researched various sentencing standards for various crimes and how those crimes are classed. But that's not really weird. Nor was looking up how living wills work and power of attorney and what-not. Though it was interesting to learn that in the US if you give someone the right to make medical decisions for you when you can't, they cannot also be your doctor. So if you need a surgery and a surgeon in that field holds the right to make your medical decisions then they cannot also be the one who performs the surgery

Makes sense, but was also an interesting/relevant find for fic writing in the Flash with regards to Caitlin.

But weird... weird... I'm pretty sure looking up poisons is par for the course for a fic writer too. Average apartment rent...

I think I tend to look up more mundane stuff and make up the weird, really...

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

So it might help to step back and see if there are any patterns in when you're feeling blocked and/or low in creative feelings. For me, in the Fall I start to feel kinda burned out. It's definitely a seasonal thing for me that brings it on and, unfortunately, sometimes trying to just push through makes it worse. The more stressful my year, the harder that Fall burnout hits me.

Knowing what the pattern is can help you break that pattern, or learn to recognize and react in more helpful ways to minimize how it makes you feel.

For me, I think looking into aides for dealing with seasonal affective disorder may help. Having alternative hobbies that I can turn to also helps to calm me down when I'm upset or even just annoyed about something. I can pick up a video game to take my frustration out in the game battles or grab a paint-by-numbers or scratch art page and concentrate on creating something pretty to look at. It helps hit that creative scratch I need without frustrating me over how my own imagination is kinda at a low point for making fanworks.

But also there's learning to accept that sometimes burnout just happens. It's not my fault and being upset with myself doesn't fix the issue. Being able to step back and say 'okay, I need to focus on something else for now and let my creativity recover' isn't easy, but it's an important part of letting my brain heal from whatever is causing the block.

[salasalasalamander]

I WROTE A BOOK pt1

this is the first book ive written

¹Chapter 1

Sniff sniff sniiifffff. My eyes cracked open—a stray dog was sniffing my face. Shluuurp. The stray dog seemed to enjoy the smell of someone who has been on a bender for a week. Well, that's one way to wake up. I stood up and cans clinked across the sand. I felt like I had been through a motorcycle crash. 

I realized I was lying in a hole on a beach with singed clothing and a broken watch. I checked my pockets for clues to where I was, but only found half a pack of Mallgorillas and an empty pack of Oldsea matches from the bar down the corner from my home. I started looking for the car wreck I must have windshield-cannoned from, but I could only see a rusted-out pickup truck in the distance. 

I walked along the beach and up some stairs. I figured I must be really far out into the country because there was a truck here; you never see a vehicle this close to a city. Beyond the truck there was a wooded area that looked maintained enough that it could be a park, so I headed in that direction, really hoping for a forest ranger station. 

I walked through the park for a while until I saw two people sitting on a bench. One was a muscular goth chick and the other was a scrawny greature of a man. There was a six pack on the bench next to them and more cans in a backpack at their feet. 

Looking back, maybe I should have been suspicious of their lack of horns, but on the other hand, maybe they both just had Male Pattern Hornlessness. (There are two types of hornlessness: Type I is physical abrasion, while Type II is a degenerative disease. With your donation, we can put an end to Brittlehorn.)

I walked up to them and said: "Hey, I have two questions: can I have a light? Also, where the fuck am I?"

The goth chick replied, "You can have a light if we can have a cig." 

"Hell yeah," I said, handing them each a cigarette. 

"Thanks, man," the goth chick said as they lit all three cigarettes. "We're in Throwweptain Park."

"Oh, I meant that more generally," I said. "I've never seen a grainy beach on the mainland before."

"No, we're in Salttray Park," the scrawny guy chimed in. 

I looked past them and saw a sign hanging from a tree that said "Cheesecliffe Park". 

"Hey, I'm still on the mainland, right?" I asked. 

"Yeah, we're in Florida," the scrawny guy said. "What mainland do you mean?"

"You know, Dregg?" I said. They both looked at me like I had three heads.  

"What are you talking about, man?" the scrawny guy asked. "Did that mai tai do some damage?"

"Yeah, are you good?" the goth chick said. "You're like, bleeding a bit, dude." 

I put my hand to my forehead. There was a trickle of blood going into my left eye. "Oh yeah, I woke up in a hole today. Pass me a beer."

"Oh yeah, I know those days," the scrawny guy said as he handed me a can of Brockman's.

"So what happened to you? You look like you fell out of a car," he continued.

"I think I got my ass kicked, y'know…" I said, trying to remember. "I think it was at a party. I'm not sure how long ago. I'm not sure what happened but I was having a blast."

"You don't seem too concerned," the goth chick said. "Does this happen to you often?"

Oh man, did I have strange dealings with the bridgeman, that guy who's always under the bridge? What's his name again? The guy who makes various white powders? I must have been really off the rails…or on them I thought. Or at least, I thought I had thought it, but it turns out I said it out loud. I must have hit my head pretty hard. 

They were both staring at me. "This isn't the first car wreck I've woken up in," I told them. "But this wasn't as bad as the time I went off the bridge into the ocean. It was co-o-old. I probably would have died if I wasn't wearing winter hunting gear."

"And I thought the winters at home were bad," the goth chick said. 

I took a drag of my cigarette. "No shit." I wiped the blood off my eye. "Anyway, my name is Deer. What's yours?"

The scrawny guy began to answer first. "I'm Anthony—"

"JANE." The goth chick interrupted him in a loud, strange tone. Then they smiled awkwardly and wiped a bit of lipstick off their teeth.

I returned the smile and wiped a bit of blood off my own teeth. "So, how are you guys getting back into town? Come on down to my home-bar."

"You have a bar in your home?" Anthony asked.

"Nah, my home IS the bar," I replied. "It's a dive on the second storey of a ramshackle building in the toxic waste part of town. There's a lot of fake mahogany in it. I sleep in one of the booths with a blanket and a heater. I 'work' full-time security for the guy who owns it. It's a deal I worked out—he lets me live there and gives me food and beer all day and I bounce people for him."

"Sounds like a pretty sweet setup," Anthony said. "We're pretty far from the nearest town, though."

"Do you want to sleep on my couch tonight?" Jane asked. 

"That sounds warmer than a cubicle," I said. 

"We're hosing you down on the front lawn first," Jane said. "It's like chipping paint."

"What do you mean by that?" Anthony asked. 

Jane said, "You know when you can see the layers of graffiti on a wall? Just tags on tags? That's what the crust on you looks like."

"That's fair," I replied. "It's hard to find the motivation to shower when the shower is a sink in a bar bathroom."

"Sometimes I just use the soda gun behind the bar. You can use a lime instead of soap in a pinch, and bar towels get the job done. It's more refreshing than you'd think."

Jane snorted, but Anthony nodded sagely in understanding.

"Ah, yes," Anthony said. "I used to bathe in rivers, I get it."

"I think you have a concussion," Jane said. "Let's get you home."

"Do you know a good doctor?" I asked.

"There's only two kinds of doctors in this world, man," Anthony said. "Good doctors and cheap doctors. And we can't afford the good ones."

"I know a guy who sews up bullet wounds for five dollars a pop," I said.

"That sounds good, let's do that," Jane said. 

We walked out of the park to the parking lot to find Jane's car. Jane's car was a rusted dark green Chrysler New Yorker that had been lifted, but it was an old lift kit so the frame was beginning to sink again, giving the entire car an off-kilter appearance. 

"The car sits even when it gets to over 40, so as long as the cops don't see us while we're in an under 40 zone, we'll be fine," Jane assured us.

"Yeah, but it starts rocking at 80," Anthony said. "So you have to keep it between 40 and 80 because that's as smooth as this car drives."

"Partymobile," I said. "At least it has all 4 doors still."

As I said this, I tried to open the door behind the driver's seat. The entire door came off in my hand, clattering to the ground making me step back in dodge.

Jane just said, "I got this. Hold the door for me, would ya?" They went to the trunk and got a hammer and some nails, and then with one hand picked up the door put it in place nocked a nail between her fingers and  hammered the nail halfway in held the door with her knee and hammered it the rest of the way down  

We got in the car and started driving. As I looked out the window, I started thinking, Man, I must be really far out in the country. I've never been here before. I didn't know there was still this much island left that I hadn't seen.

I started to feel carsick and the rocking didn't help. "I think that head wound did some damage," I said. "I just need to sit in the dark of a bar." I didn't know where my home was, but I figured anywhere that's dingy and skunky is home. 

Jane pulled over at the first roadside bar that we came across. It was called The Shady Ox. As we walked in the door, I watched Anthony bump into someone on their way out and steal their wallet. He opened the wallet and looked at the ID once we sat down.

"Hey, I think that guy stole this wallet," Anthony said, holding up the ID. The person in the picture looked nothing like the guy who he had bumped into.

"Who are you to judge?" I asked. "You just stole his wallet."

"Yeah, but it still has cash in it!" he said, giving me and Jane each a share of about 10 dollars. I looked out the window and saw the guy getting into an unmarked white van. 

"I think he was a cop," Anthony said. "I've been busted by undercovers before."

"Who, them? Outside in the car?" said Jane, he would have busted you if he was a cop

We all leaned over to look out the window. "What the hell is that?" I asked. There was some kind of bizarre animal sitting on top of the garbage cans outside of the bar. It looked like a little hairy man with a mask and black gloves. "He looks like a small burglar."

"That little felon man is called a raccoon," Jane explained. 

"A racket?" I asked. "Wait… you don't normally see a dog with all four legs together like that. It's too symmetrical. Someone must have made that rocket dog."

"'Too symmetrical'? What does wildlife look like wherever the hell you're from?" Jane asked. 

I took a picture of my childhood dog out of my wallet. He had two heads and mostly straight legs, though the third back one was on a pretty serious angle. "All in all a pretty standard dog, right?" I said, showing them the picture. "The second head breathed fire sometimes. That was pretty cool. I'd always lose my lighters so the lil bastard came in handy. Man, I loved that dog."

Jane and Anthony stared at me in stunned silence. The waitress came by and placed our beers on the table. "So what childhood pets did you have?" I asked.

"...I had a chow…" Jane said. 

"I had a cat with a missing leg," Anthony added, nodding sagely. 

"So… where did you say you were from again?" Jane asked. 

"Dregg," I said.

"I've never heard of a Dregg," Anthony said. Jane looked at their phone. 

"I just looked it up but all I could find was a rap-metal fusion band," Jane said.

"So is that a 'sold to One Direction' kind of situation or what?" Anthony asked.

"What is that?" I replied.

The look on Jane's face shifted from confusion to excitement.

"Would you call yourself a traveler?" they asked.

"What?"

"Are you from another dimension?" Jane pressed.

"I mean, I could be? I don't really know where I am now!" I said. "It's too far away from the ocean here. I don't like it." 

"We were just at the beach," Anthony said.

"I'm used to ALWAYS being able to see the ocean," I said. "The land to ocean ratio here is wack. There's only supposed to be like three islands on the whole planet and there's just so much, where did you guys get all these continental plates from?"

I started to clean myself off with bar napkins.

"Uh, guys? I think I just heard someone say 'deploy the ferret'," Anthony said. 

"Deploy the what?" I asked. I felt something sharp dig into my skin and crawl up my leg. The next thing I knew, there was a gigantic furry worm attacking my face. "Aaah! Get it off!"

Jane threw a punch, which connected with both the worm and my head, resulting in a mighty crash as we both fell backwards off the bar chair. I got to my feet a second before the "ferret" did. I squared off with the ferret and prepared to fight it. It hissed at me viciously. 

I stepped to the right, then dodged to the left and threw a punch, but the ferret jumped onto my arm. It started running towards my face.

Jane ran up to me and tried to kick the ferret off my arm but ended up kicking me in the head instead. I fell and the ferret was launched behind the bar, straight through the swinging doors to the kitchen. 

Jane's half-court kick knocked me flat on my ass and I got up seeing stars. "Can you take me to your couch now?" I slurred. And then I passed out again.

—

Chapter 2

I woke up and pulled the pillow off my face; it was glued with blood. Looking out the buckshot holes of Jane's garage, I saw that the rusted-out red truck was parked down the street again. 

I poured instant coffee into a kettle which I'd filled up with water from Jane's garden hose and walked into the living room. Jane was already there, staring out the window. 

"That's the same truck I saw when I got here," I told Jane. "I'd think it was following us, if it looked like it could move." 

"Let's keep an eye on that," Jane said. "ANTHONY!"

"What?" Anthony responded from the next room.

"Raise the paranoia meter one—no, two notches. We're on high alert," Jane said, and lazily saluted.

"On it boss," Anthony said in a 20s mobster voice.

Anthony walked into the living room with a red bag with a white cross on it in one hand and a sewing kit in the other.

"That ferret did a number on you, buddy," Anthony said to me. 

I touched the back of my neck and felt warm blood. 

Anthony pulled a beer from the red bag. Inside the bag there was a box of bandages, a roll of gauze, scissors, a bottle of disinfectant, and a six pack of Lucky. "Yep, we're gonna have to stitch you up."

I took off my shirt and opened my drink. "Welp, can't say this is my first time doing this," I said with a sigh.

"Got enough barbed wire tattoos," Jane said.

"I think I need one more," I responded challengingly.

"Allright, don't move." Jane stood behind me and threaded a needle. "Just look at the pretty trees and hold still." 

"I can see a couple inches of ocean, I'll be fine." I could see the tiny patch of ocean in the distance between the trees across the way, so I focused on that while Jane sewed up the back of my neck. 

"You weren't lying when you said you'd done this before," Jane commented, tying a knot in the thread. "We'll pop this string sucker out in a week and ya should be good." 

I rubbed the stitches. Anthony slapped my hand away. "No touching."

"Hey, your mobster voice gave me an idea I've been trying not to forget," Jane began. 

"Oh, what is it?" Anthony asked.

"Iiiit waaass…" Jane had apparently already forgot it and was struggling to remember. 

"'On it, boss'?" Anthony supplied helpfully. 

"Right!" Jane exclaimed. "Let's fire down to the thrift store, pick up a couple of suits, do an outfit thing."

"That sounds good," Anthony and I said nearly in unison. I noticed my clothes for the first time since I woke up on the beach. My worn-out jeans, denim vest, and long-faded past recognition Sledder t-shirt were gone, replaced by a cozy pair of pajamas.

"I washed your clothes for ya," Jane said. "And you, as well." I looked out the back window and saw a crushed, dirty patch in the tall grass. "How are you dirtier than outside?" Jane continued. "Anyway, you're the least drunk, so you're driving," they said matter of factly.

"Fuck yeah," I said as we walked to Jane's car and they tossed me the keys.

"Hot one today, eh?" I said, lighting a smoke off the mirror and handing them each one. "Your car makes me nauseous, man."

"You get used to it," Anthony said. He seemed zoned out in the back seat.

I noticed a mark on the back of my left hand when I put my hands on the steering wheel. "How long's that been there for?"

"I thought it was one of your tattoos," Jane said. 

I examined it closer. It had 2 rings bridged together with X's and a symbol of a bird holding three keys, one in its mouth and one under each of its wings. "Ya don't see many 2 winged birds. This is strange." 

"Whaddya talking about?" Anthony said, suddenly alert.

"You really aren't from around here, huh," Jane commented.

I gripped the steering wheel and focused on my hand. It started to feel hot. I moved my hand to the window; the leather under my hand was slightly melted. 

I turned the ignition and it only struggled. Jane said "Feather the gas a bit," and flicked the windshield wipers on. A loud bang and a plume of black smoke from the exhaust. The car started and the right windshield wiper stuck half way while the left moved squeakily back and forth. 

"I'm fuckin starving," I said and drove off, the car rocking and making hideous sounds, shedding rust down the driveway.

"Your Sledder t-shirt turned to rags in the dryer. You should pick up some new clothes while we're there," Jane was telling me. 

"Man," I said, taking a second to mourn my Sledder shirt. "I'm shocked it lasted that long though."

I heard a voice shout from three houses down. "FUCK OFF WITH THE NOISE!"

- 

Chapter 3

A few hours later, we pulled into the parking lot of the beach with our pinstripe suits and our fast food feast. I tried to brake but the pedal jammed, so I geared it to neutral and cruised into two parking spots, then pulled the hand brake. 

"Another perfect landing," Jane said. I pulled the key out—or rather, the plastic top of the key, while the metal part stuck in the ignition. 

"That happens sometimes," Jane said. "It's an easy fix. Pliers and some glue. Any of you got pliers? Because otherwise we're catching a bus."

"We have thirty eight cents between us," Anthony pointed out. 

"I could weld ya a new key top," I said. "...If I had my torch. Goddamn, I kinda miss the little bar cubicle." It sunk in that I wasn't home anymore.

We got out of the car and started looking for somewhere to sit.

It really cooled of jane said sitting on a log

"I think it's safe to say we're not in Kansas anymore," I said. I was referring to the fictional land of Kansas, from the popular story The Oz of Wizard, but Jane later told me that in this world Kansas is in fact a real place.

"Tell me about where you're from," said Jane with barely concealed excitement.

"It's a pretty nice place. The wildlife is beautiful, but ya gotta watch out for it."

"Tell me about those birds with more? Or less? Than two wings," Jane asked.

"Well there's the birds with four wings. They're called rhythm birds. They write complex melodies; their songs are beautiful. It also gets sampled all the time into music."

"That sounds like the best pet ever," Jane said excitedly.

"Oh no, they're deafeningly loud indoors. They perch at the top of trees, which are few and far between on the mainland. A lot of the other wildlife can climb trees so the bird that could sit at the top of a tree, nest there, and still have their song heard was the one that survived."

"There's also 7 winged birds that are nearly silent and fast as the devil. They have 6 wings to the side and one rudder wing at the bottom. I got attacked by one once—their claws are sharp. The more curved scars are from that."

"Also on the island there's a lot more terrifying wildlife. There's three species of bats. One of them is about man-sized and terrifying. Pray you have a shotgun when you see those bloodsuckers. They don't come out much though and the others are tiny, maybe 6 inches long, but they breathe fire and never stop eating. The fire comes from a methane gas sack and they have flint-like fangs. Pretty much organic flint, I suppose. I found one that wormed into my engine block, chewed into the wires, then died. I made a lighter out of it with a tooth, a bone and a leather body. It was dope. I actually kept track of that thing for 2 months."

"And then there's vulture bats. They're born about three inches long but don't have a limit on how big they can grow. There's a theory that this is how the man-sized bats came to be."

I looked at Anthony and Jane to see their reactions. Anthony was stunned but Jane looked fascinated. 

"Those burgers were good, man," I said before slurping down the last of my milkshake. 

"I'm outta smokes and I'm starting to get angry," Jane grunted through a mouthful of fries. 

"There's something in my suit sleeve," Anthony said, undoing a zipper on the inside of his sleeve. They reached into the suddenly appearing pocket and pulled out a slim jim. "Hey, score. I think I know how we're getting home." 

"Put that away, dumbass," Jane snapped. 

"You wanna walk home?" Anthony suggested.

"No," Jane relented, "I'll keep lookout."

We eyed the parking lot for an easy lift and chose our prey: an old white van. We oozed across the parking lot to the edge and Anthony slipped the jim in and wiggled it to the left then wiggled it to the right and still couldn't get it in place.

"Pass me that." He passed it to me. I stepped up to bat, slid down, found the groove, and popped the locks in 2 seconds flat. "Numbnuts," I said offhandedly and pried the wire plate off. "Oh shit, it's different," I said, seeing the many wires. "The cars I'm used to have like three or four wires."

"Numbnuts," Anthony mocked in the way that puts your upper lip to your nose,and started to pull the wires down.

"Look with your brain, dumbasses," Jane said opening the visor. The keys tumbled down onto Anthony's head. "Looks like you're sitting in middle," they continued, "princesses first." 

Anthony and I climbed into the car and Jane followed and started the car. "It's been a while since I've done that without fiddling." 

"Hey, this van's pretty bougie," Anthony said, touching the console screen with his knuckle. "Heated seats? Lets turn them up. Check the glovebox, man." 

Jane started the car and I looked in the glovebox. Inside there was a pair of leather gloves and a box that took up most of the space. I shook the box gently; it made a soft thunk. I opened it and unwrapped the silk sheet. Inside there was a revolver with a note: "in case of emergencies".

I inspected the revolver. It had a pearl handle and sleek shiny body. I checked if it was loaded and it was. I took a bullet out and saw ornate runes carved into the shell and put the bullet in my pocket leaving five in the chamber so it wouldn't blow my package off if it misfires. 

"Talk about a score," I said, tucking the gun into the waistband of my suit.

At the bottom of the box was another six bullets and a fifty dollar note. "Let's hit up a gas station. These are my last three smokes."

We drove, careful to not get pulled over, to a gas station and Jane smoothly backed the van in and we got out. I could have sworn I saw one of the top rear exhaust pipes move, but figured my eyes were playing tricks on me. I looked at the back of the note and saw it had the same symbol on my hand. I put it in my pocket to check later and make sure it was real and walked into the gas station.

"Heyooo," I said warmly to the clerk. "I need a few packs of smokes, man. I'll have some mallgorilla—"

"What the fuck is a mall gorilla," the cashier slurred and pushed a far too heavy tongue piercing back in their mouth. "We got marlboros," they said, eyes red and droopy. 

"I'll take a pack of that then and gimme a pack of cheap and some menthols too."

"What are you, a chimney?" said the cashier turning around and grabbing three packs from behind the counter and putting them on the table, that be all for ya.

Just then Anthony walked up, put three beers on the counter, and said "Why yes I am." 

I handed the clerk the fifty and they handed me less change than I expected, but at that point I was jonesing too hard to care. I had barely walked out of the store before I had the first marlboro in my mouth and Anthony was already pulling out his lighter. I handed Jane one through the window and climbed in.

"Is it just me or does the exhaust look like it's moving?" said Anthony. 

"It's probably just loose," Jane said before taking a large drag, leaning back and starting the car. She exhaled through her nose and said, "Thank god for Seven Eleven under their breath while driving out of the parking lot."  

We pulled up to Jane's house and Anthony and I hopped out. Anthony went inside and opened the garage door then sat next to me on a chair while I sat on a rock in the front yard. Jane backed into her garage. Lets see if there's anything in the back she said. 

"Good idea," I responded, flicking her a menthol and lighting mine and Anthony's. "Lets hang out a spell, grab the pliers and pick up our car." 

"That sounds good," Anthony said.

"These taste different from the smokes back home," I said.

"Yours were smoother," Anthony responded.

"Uuuuuh, guys, we have a problem," said Jane.

Chapter 4

Jane was staring, horrified, into the back of the van. Two thankfully out of shape middle-aged guys wearing sweater vests, bowties, sweatpants and bunny slippers stared back, looking like a pair of toddlers caught with a meth lab.

I jumped to my feet, staggered two steps, and hit the ground, dizzy from the nicotine. the two guys jumped out and went for the front seat of the van. The taller one hopped in the driver's seat and the rounder one got in the passenger seat. The tall one opened the visor, looking for the keys  (now in Jane's pocket) while the fat one opened the glovebox, looking for the gun (now a centimetre away from my left testicle). 

"Grab the keys," the round one yelled to the tall one. 

"It's not there! Grab the gun!" the tall one yelled back.

"It's not there!"

They hopped out and started legging it down the street while I carefully tried to stand up. Anthony helped me into the chair and I caught my breath.

Once I wasn't dreadfully dizzy, we carefully examined the back of the van. It had a periscope attached to the left “exhaust pipe”. There was a sofa along one side and a built-in computer/radio station along the other. At the far end of the van, there was a coffee maker bolted to a cabinet and a 24 pack of donuts that was about half eaten.

Jane entered the van first. "The donuts are still fresh," she said, putting one in her mouth and passing two back to us. She looked in the cabinet and retrieved three cups and poured still-hot coffee into them. "So what the fuck just happened?" Jane said.

Chapter 5

Scraaaaatch scraaatch. Anthony was scraping a coin across the table anxiously. We had all changed back into our regular clothes. 

We were in the basement, coffee and donuts in hand, and sat down on the old raggedy sofa. Jane sat next to me and Anthony in a chewed and taped together armchair separated by a coffee table with two drawers and coated in all manner of scratches. The basement was comfortably dim and grungy enough to really feel like home.

The question of "So what do we do now?" hung in the air but no one dared ask it.

I checked the inside pocket of my vest, finding my pocket knife and a quarter of weed that thankfully survived the wash without the baggie ripping.

Jane pulled a pink and purple tray with a grinder and papers from a drawer in the coffee table and set it in front of me. I started rolling and tried to come up with a plan.

After rolling three joints I lit the first and passed left to Jane. 

"So if they haven't come for us yet, they're probably waiting till dark. I'm not sure what to expect but I think they'll send someone tougher than a pair of desk jockeys. We got lucky they weren't the gnarly kind of agents."

"So what should we do?" Jane said, barely audible as she passed to Anthony.

"We can run or we can fight… most likely we'll do both one way or another," I said.

"I think the van's in better shape than your car, Jane. No offense," Anthony added. 

"None taken," Jane said.

So we take the van. I suggested that we put a mattress in the back and drive as far as we could. "If we never look back we just might make it," I said.

"We could lay low somewhere out of town," at least, said Jane, mid exhale the colour slowly returning to their face.

“That's a good idea,” I said.

“And if we fight?” Anthony said and swallowed uncomfortably.

“What have we got for weapons?” I asked.

Jane stood up and rummaged through a toolkit, chose a larger than average hammer, spun it in her palm and nodded approvingly. She walked to a section of wall with a poster worn beyond recognition. She took the poster down and—SMASH— hit the drywall with the hammer. SMASH SMASH. "Give me a hand, would ya?" they said, tearing out a piece of drywall.

I stood up and helped them rip up the wall.

Once we had created a fairly large hole, they reached in and felt around before pulling a duffle bag with Y2K stitched into the front and 2012 stitched underneath out of the wall.

"We made a bug-out bag, yeah," Jane said, walking back to the couch and sitting down.

We looked through the bag. It had two sturdy pairs of black clothing, a few MRIs, five hundred dollars in cash and a purple box with a pink strap that clipped at the front. 

"These are for once we're safe," Jane said, tapping the box and putting it back in.

Jane pulled open a side pocket and removed a handgun. “Glock, ten mil,” she said, checking it to make sure it was still in working order. There were two boxes of rounds that Jane examined a few bullets out of. “Nothing seems to have gone," Jane said, high-fiving Anthony.

"Well, let's get that mattress in the van," I said, carrying the duffle bag out of the basement.

Jane grabbed a hacksaw from the toolkit. “Might come in handy," they said.

We went into Anthony and Jane's bedroom and carried the mattress to the van. Jane helped me pull the couch out and put new sheets on the mattress. Anthony got fresh bedding. By the time we finished we figured we'd have about forty minutes before dark. We sat down in our new surveillance camper and lit the final joint.

“Well, tonight we toast to living or dying,” I said, holding the doob up like one would with a drink and passing left to Anthony.

Anthony said, "Living or dying," with grim commitment and toked, then passed to Jane then started coughing once he had finished. Jane said the same and stared off for a second after exhaling. 

"Do you hear that?" Jane asked.

“It's time to move,” I said urgently. Jane and I hopped out of the back and ran for the front. At that near exact same moment, two SUVs the colour of the stormy night sky screeched to a stop and three agents hopped out of each, clad in tactical gear and bearing submachine guns. They jumped into action while rubber was still burning.

Me and Jane jumped into the front seat, ducked and started the car. Bullets raged off the front and shattered the glass. The rest of the car seemed to have been armoured. The glass tore into our skin as we careened through the neighbour's lawn, bullets praying for weak spots the whole way through. Anthony slammed the left door and returned blind fire with the machine pistol. It would have been like trying to kill a dragon with a zippo, but it made the agents and drivers duck, which cooled our lead shower long enough to barrel across the road and through the shrubs into the yard of the least lucky bystander.

“YYYEEEEHAAW,” I exclaimed. “THIS VANS REALLY SOMETHING!

ANTH, YOU STILL ALIVE BACK THERE?!” I said not daring to pick up the pedal in the slightest as we blundered through the (thankfully not home) neighbour's front yard and onto the road.

“The highway is just forward and left of here,” Jane said urgently. The van lurched forwards, relieved to taste concrete again. The speedometer ticked up as we raced for the freeway.

“Uhh, I think so,” said Anthony shakily. "That was the biggest gunfight of my life." Anthony promptly fainted, thankfully onto the mattress.

[frosted-night]

Jack Frost Designs Review

Yes it’s finally his time. This is going to include his book designs including previous incarnations in said books. There are more movie concept designs than book so, let’s dig in shall we?

This was in fact the first ever Jack Joyce designed while he came up with The Guardians Of Childhood. He even comes with his own backstory! (Which was cut. Sorry Joyce posts walls of text so it’s a girthy read.)

So instead of a young mischievous trickster, we got a much more depressing story of Jack. (Jack by default is sad obviously) but this one... It kind of hits differently and almost reminds me of the story he crafted for Pitch. A dad who tried to defend his family but through tragic events was ripped from them and changed completely. Design wise, he’s a lot more tree than snow. There doesn’t exist a colored version of this so we’ll never know if he sported winter and dull dead leaf colors rather than grassy greens.This Jack has a weird presence to him, I can’t put my finger on it. Rating: 6/10 He’s really neat! Just a little too Autumn feeling rather than a blend of both Autumn and Winter.

Nightlight feels like the baby evolution if Jack was a pokemon and that's what I’m gonna stick with. Below is a more recent version of him colored.

In all honesty that one is easier on the eyes proportion wise because sometimes Joyce has ‘interesting’ anatomy choices but we aint going into that today. It’s interesting how his hair somehow looks shorter and longer than Jack’s at the same time. Could be because the longer strands float seamlessly but star boy hair physics what can ya do. It’s a little hard to tell what is his skin and what is his armor, so that is a casuality in making a character only have one or two colors in their color scheme. I love other artist’s depictions of Nightlight but the canon one feels a little weak color wise. Rating: 5/10 Sorry, get some better LEDs and then come back.

Here we have a book Jack but I can’t entirely recall if this was used in the books or not. I digress. This design looks like him still wearing very Nightlight-esque armor/clothing and slowly growing into his new persona as Jack Frost. The intricacies are hard to make out but we’ll work with it. This one is very interesting to me because he very much looks like an older teen close to young adult. His hair looks very fluffy too. Not many complaints about this one but not much praise either.

Rating: 6/10 Not great but doesn’t stand out that much.

Remember when I said Joyce had ‘interesting’ anatomy decisions? Jack looks like he has half a head here and it bothers me GREATLY. This is the adult Jack design he went with. Supposedly he likes the opera and he sure looks it. This! Exists!! Kind of wish it didn’t. The outfit is nice but it just doesn’t fit Jack as a whole. This just screams to me that it’s someone else with a similar-ish hairstyle.

Rating: 3/10 Guess he’d be the...Phantom Of The Opera. (I’ll go home and so should he.)

And finally the final Jack. This is the one that almost exactly resembles the Jack we got in the movies(Probably because it was made after the movie but w/e) but just add a cape on him. I can’t really tell if hes got a hoodie and a cape, or just a cloak+hood on top of a sweatshirt. It isn’t too important because my thoughts on this one are obvious. Rating: 10/10 Edna Mode would have a field day with you boy.

MOVIE DESIGN TIME

Joyce claims this is a design he drafted when Leonardo DiCaprio was considered to voice Jack and I can kind of see that with how his face is drawn here. This Jack looks a lot more like a warrior and less of that trickster look. I can’t say I’m a fan of the weird antenna his hood has but his sword is really cool looking.

Rating: 4/10 Nice bow and sword but it can’t save your fashion choices.

This looks like a lanky 11-13 year old who would put rocks or slugs in my shoes and relish in my disgust. He has the exact look of a snot nose kid and I’m unsure how to feel about it.

His various hairstyles drafted here sort of make him softer looking or just more of a snot nose, no in between. Maybe even an Anime Protagonist.

The top right one almost looks like Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon if you squint. It’ll be a little hard to rate them all as one individual but why not.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate them but they aren’t my cup of tea.

AH- IS THAT A FUCKIN GREMLIN?

Oh wait no it isn’t he looks like a 10 year old. Whatever don’t feed him after midnight. The staff’s design of not being shaped like a G is an interesting tidbit but the whole design looks like he’s really young or like a troll etc. This Jack looks like he thinks girls have cooties uses outdated slang.

Rating: 4/10 This is me being generous.

It honestly looks like he hiked his pants up all the way to his chest. A late teen with horrid fashion choices once again. Not many other thoughts here.

Rating: 2/10 Get a sweater on or something.

This is one is very interesting looking to me. His clothes looked a lot more leather based and very human-like. The tatters, tears and frays all make him look like he was a victim of an accident that never changed his clothes. It makes me wonder if this Jack had the same death as the final movie Jack or something else entirely. Either way, this one looks like hes a mid to late teen which really adds to my intrigue.

This was another image that greatly resembled the design so I included it here. It almost looks like his skin is blue here which is pretty neat to me at least. He’s also got leaf motifs here, which from the first Jack design Joyce made, we can see a pattern here.

Rating: 8 /10 I was originally weirded out by his head but now its not so bad.

This Jack is definitely dressed more like a nature boy rather than him having human influenced fashion and it’s an appealing touch. The tiny leaf sprouting from his staff is also kind of cute since the designers seemed to want to put leafs somewhere on his designs. His hairstyle is also very cute but it reminds me of Sasuke Uchiha in a sense. (Not a setback for me at least)

Rating: 7/10 13 year old Jack is going thru a phase.

I thought this Jack didn’t show up again in story boards but I was wrong!

They look a little different from each other but just similar enough to pair together, so bare with me. The first one obviously has looser pants, slightly longer sleeves and got his leaf motif going. This second Jack is a VERY green. It gives the impression that this Jack made his clothes out of plants and natural materials. Again I’m not wholly sure if greens fit his color scheme but they sure went for it for a while. I can’t say I’m a fan of it because it heavily reminds me of Peter Pan.

However a very similar looking Jack could be found in this storyboard. It doesn’t look as green as the other storyboards made it out to be and looks more like dead grass. Which is a pretty nice touch.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate it but it just doesn’t vibe yknow.

Speaking of a vibe...hoo this certainly has one.  This Jack isn’t old but certainly doesn’t look very young, maybe in the 20-30 range, thats just me. He has facial features that remind me of Pitch but resembles the Jack Frost of Santa Clause 3

That being said, I wondered if him looking similar to Pitch was in the storyline of them being brothers.(Which was a scrapped thing, who knew.) He’s a bit more menacing in this design but certainly seems like he relishes in his work.

Rating: 4/10 I’d make it a lower score but I gotta give it props

NOW THIS JACK IS KINDA INTERESTING. This one looks like he’s 16 and going through a grunge phase. He’s gonna play Nirvana loudly and not turn it down even if you tell him too. His staff itself has mini icicles hanging off of it and leafs look stuck to his shirt. Did you glue or staple those on Jack? His hair also looks much longer than his other designs and I kind of dig it( Shut up I’m bias.) I’m not wholly sure why else this design has stuck with me but it just has something about it that I just love. I wish there was a full body drawing of it.

(He also kinda has the same hair as the Jack Frost in Runescape but I wont go on about that hoo hoo)

Rating: 9/10 *Bad Boy by Cascada plays in the distance*

This one definitely feels like middleschooler trying to be in a band. His sticks just resemble drumsticks to me what can I say. I’m a big fan of his shoes and his color scheme screams a hibernating tree in winter. His hair also looks like it’s covered in frost rather than it being wholly white, which is very neat!! He looks like he wants to fight but has slight hesitance. Overall a very balanced Jack.

Rating: 8/10 He’s ready for band practice

Not many thoughts here, I just found these tiny Jack designs cute. His hoodie being a jacket instead just adds to the charm of this one.

No talk to him he angy.

Rating: 6/10 fun sized boi

Now this Jack resembles the one earlier that dressed entirely in leather brown colors, however he clearly is different than that one. I’m gonna say it, he looks like a zombie or undead in this design and its pretty fucking gnarly. I don’t know whats going on with his hair but I’m gonna assume it’s just the wind making it look like that. He just has the vibe that he was once human but was turned into something else entirely. It isnt in uncanny territory but borders that. This version of Jack meeting Pitch and the others would have been *very* interesting. Rating: 7/10 Eat a twinkie Jack you’ll feel better.

The final design! I can’t complain much about this one. The way his staff subtly has a G shape and a hexagon(his signature shape) is a wonderful touch. Additionally, the way the frost is gathered mostly where his hand is such an intricate detail. His signature hoodie is iconic at this point so I can’t bad mouth that either.(I can’t anyway because there's no complaints from me here.) Although, I never understood the leather straps that his pants had or their functions. I couldn’t find any colonial outfits that resembled Jack’s pants so its a total mystery to me at least.

And I can’t go on about this design until I mention the snowflake pattern in his eyes

Pure beauty. It’s at a hue of blue that almost looks impossible to have, combined with the electric blue color of the snowflake in his eyes. The amount of detail in this movie amazes me to this day. Rating: One Great Blizzard <3/10

[the-slasher-files]

Hello there! I’m back with another request. Can you write some headcanons of Michael, Jason, Bo and Bubba if their S/O was an artist? I’m an artist and I would love to see their reaction if I showed them one of my latest drawings.

Yay.. ok so I’ve got a few requests for this (from a shy s/o to a confident one) so I kind of mixed them together :) also btw I don’t write for Bubba but I will write for all the others, plus more! hope you enjoy 🔪💕  

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS WITH S/O THAT LOVES TO DRAW OR IS AN ARTIST

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT, and CHROMESKULL

JASON VOORHEES

First of all living where you do at the cabin there is so much inspo from deer, to the lake, to changing of the seasons.. It is honestly the best place for an artist

Jason always noticed a black notebook lying around with pens and pencils on every other surface, and you were oddly protective of the book, so he left it alone respecting your boundaries

Sitting with him in the quiet cabin Jason loved the sounds of the pencils scratching along the paper, and he loved to watch the soothing motions of your wrist going to work

Slowly he will become more and more interested in what you're doing and he needs to see. Sneakily inching himself closer to you as you work away and stretching his neck as far as he can, catching a glimpse then feeling guilty

Jason wants to respect you so much but it kills him that you’re not showing him. So when you were in the shower he quickly ran to the book and gently ran his fingers over your work, amazed at how good everything was and how you brought the nature/animals to life in the book from around the camp

Flipping a page then he is met with sketches of himself, with the mask and without, his hands, some of his wounds with the bones sticking out... it was beautiful and he couldn’t look away until you walked into the room pushing him away from the book but seeing his expression made you melt, he loved it so much and slowly brought out confidence in you, making you show him your work all the time

A few times he had brought some art supplies home from a group of teens that came along

One day he came home to canvases all over the floor and red paint splattered all over your old t-shirt Jason freaked out thinking it was blood in the dim lighting, he stepped on your canvases with muddy boots and held you up making you yelp... “Baby it’s just paint”... well now he feels foolish and upset for stepping on your art

The next night he still felt bad but you showed him what you had created from “the incident”... Bright colours framed the bootprint and brought out the muddy tones, some of the canvases had pressed flowers along the details of the print and it was so beautiful Jason immediately hung them on the wall  

Just an fyi he wants to always do crafts with you lol so make sure you help him

MICHAEL MYERS

Now this guy is pretty indifferent to everything but something about your art brings out a new side in him

You can say a lot of things about Michael but you cannot say he isn’t observant, he sees everything and knows everything

Like Jason he notices your many notebooks and various art supplies around the house, but he is far more intrusive than Jason and will rip the notebook from your hands holding your neck if you protest as he flips through it

Watching his face nothing changes, he just scans the pages then throws the notebook down walking away leaving into the night

The next morning notebook, paints, pens, brushes and other supplies litter the kitchen counter... wonder who got those???

Michael loves watching you work on your art, watching your facial expressions, the way the pens run along the paper and how the paint coats the canvases.. oop you just gave him an idea

One night he came home gruesomely cover in blood a little more than extra, and Michael moves above you and the art you are working on, whoops he is dripping blood on the canvas, then smearing it, then moving his knife along it using it as a brush, I guess

You yelled at him at first but watching how he seemed to enjoy the colours mixing together and the way the blood dried was sort of.. cute

You knew Michael had a funny and creative side just by the way he walked into the bedroom one night with a sheet over himself and sunglasses on, and the way he leaves marks on your body in a certain pattern or framing his favourite features of you. Michael’s art was his kill you realized

He really loves your pieces, even though he would never say so and Michael’s favourites were the sketches of himself you did and he would paint blood along them

You weren’t gonna lie it made the portraits more interesting and honestly beautiful, they quickly became your favourites as well

I’m sorry but my horny self just wants to see Michael in an all-black suit at an art gallery admiring the masked portrait of himself covered in blood... sorry but it’s hot lol

BO SINCLAIR      

So Bo is not really observant so it might take him a while to notice the art supplies around the house but even then he thinks it’s just Vincent’s

You will probably have to do just do the art in front of him before he gets that its your art supplies.. man sucks lol

Bo really enjoys your company when he is in the shop, you just sitting there working away in your notebook and him under the hood of his truck

He doesn’t necessarily push to see what you’re drawing but Bo teases, the harder you hide it the harder he teases... “what ya got in there sex drawings?” “Fuck darlin’ let me be your model”

If you don’t want him to see what you’re doing never leave your notebook behind because the man is a snoop in every sense of the word

Bo 100% supports your art even though he isn’t very interested in it and doesn’t really get it, if it makes you happy he will steal supplies from his twin and if victims have notebooks or pens he will bring them to you immediately  

On a day where you decided to spend the day at the shop, sitting on your chair sketching away while Bo was organizing his tools, he kept catching your glances and smirked “Baby, you need somethin?” he would ask smugly.

“Nope” a simple answer not stroking his ego “gonna grab a beer from downstairs you want one?” Bo nods as you make your way to the mini-fridge. Quickly the man strides over to the notebook, opening the page where you had placed your pencil. He knew it, sketches of himself, it makes his ego skyrocket.

“BO!!” pushing him away and he grabs the book holding it just out of your reach smirking “Momma always said I’d be a good model” “Don’t flatter yourself Sinclair, you’re the only man around for miles that doesn’t wear a mask or look like a trash man” you laughed as him smirk fell... run

He honestly loves your art even though Bo gives you a hard time... His favourite thing is falling asleep to the pencil sounds against the paper when you’re laying in bed together

VINCENT SINCLAIR

SAAAAAAME... lol

The man notices right away that he begins to lose his an unused notebook and some of his best art pencils

It made you very nervous to show Vincent what you sketched and painted since he was just so good at art in every way. It was unfair

His favorite thing to do with you is make little sculptures from wax or clay, he could tell you were very creative and good at what you made, and he would always be super supportive

Vincent’s praise and support made you more comfortable with doing your art around him and even showing him. The man loves it and loves all of it

Different from his brother, Vinny respects you a lot and is fine with not looking in your notebook until you’re ready to show him. He hates when people see his unfinished work and flip through his notebooks as well

The good thing about dating him is Vincent’s art stuff is now yours

Also he is a very good teacher, somehow though he cannot talk, Vinny never makes you feel bad about your art and if you need help he is more than happy to support

Art date nights!! Getting the idea from your phone, you lit all the candles and brought down all the paint you could along with the large unused canvases you had found. When Vincent strolls downstairs his eyes go wide, seeing you in just your bra and underwear “I’m ready for art class Vin” you giggle

When he finds your paintings or sketches of himself without his mask Vincent’s heart melts, finding someone like you to love him, let alone see his destroyed features as art kills him

CHROMESKULL

Jesse is a very watchful human, even when he isn’t at home the guy has cameras literally everywhere

When he was gone on a "business trip" you had all the free time in the world, plus you had picked up some new art supplies, so why not work a large piece when Jesse isn't around to distract you... When you had worked on for a few hours you got a text 'How's the painting coming along?' And that's when you realized cameras are everywhere!

If you are a shy person with your art he basically doesn’t allow you to be, he’s a pushy spoiled man but he is also very supportive and it makes you more confident in showing him  

Jesse honestly loves art and has many expensive paintings in his large home, so when he sees your art you better believe he will have Preston frame the art and put it on the walls, with special art gallery lights really making it look perfect

If you need any and I mean any art supplies no matter how expensive Jesse supports it *hands you his gold credit card*

"Oh.. renovations? To the already perfect mansion?" "Yup.. it's your new art studio"

Art, wine and cheese nights... the perfect date

Feeling uninspired? alright time to change the scenery, let’s go to a tropical destination or a wintery cabin. The man wants to spoil you and put your passion at the top of his priority list, plus he just wants a vacation and see you in your swimwear

It doesn't matter if you're shy about your art or confident Jesse will say he is taking you to an event, get you all dolled up and take you to an art gallery event that is just your art... surprise! Dumb rich bastard loves your work and flaunts it to everyone he can

[failedskillcheck]

Change with the Tides (Part 1/??)

A/N: Hiya! This is a little thing that I wanted to write, where the reader is a changeling wizard/rouge working for the Gentleman and joins the Mighty Nein! This takes place around 2x14-2x16. I’ll probably write it for the whole campaign.

You grew up in the various orphanages of Wildemont, starting in Port Damali, then Alfeild, Nogvurot, Trostenwald, Rexxentrum, and Deastock, eventually ending up in Zadash.

Due to your race, people found it hard to trust you. You didn’t really blame them, you had been picking pockets since you were seven. In Alfeild, you managed to steal a few spellbooks off of a traveller and began teaching yourself magic. Mostly Illusion spells, but you got your hand on some water-based magic as well.

When you grew out of the system, you were in Zadash, so you went about looking for the Gentleman. By the time you were 23, you had a secure career with him.

That is until a group barged into the underground bar, a strange collection of individuals calling themselves the Mighty Nein… but there were only seven.

From your seat at the bar, you couldn’t see them. You subtly put up your usual disguise, a human woman with brown hair and dark eyes, except you keep the hair a platinum blonde, the closest colour to your true form.

Cree noted one of the adventurers, a purple teifling she called Lucien. The man was a literal peacock. In fact, you’re pretty sure you saw a peacock tattoo creeping up his neck. You noted the others. An aloof half-orc, an energetic blue teifling, a massive woman who could probably crush you, a human woman in Cobalt Soul blue, and a human man in dirty brown clothing, sticking close to a small goblin. The goblin surprised you. You were all too aware of what people thought of monstrous races like hers.

The group went to the Gentlemans’ table, and you snickered, sipping on your drink. Then, Clive comes over and leans over the bar, “He needs you.” You sigh, down the rest of your drink, and walk over to the table, knowing that the drink will be paid off later.

“What’s up Boss?” You say as you reach the table, grabbing the chair closest to him. You’re his best employee. He knows that, everyone here knows that. There’s very little you can’t get away with.

“Ah, Y/N. Meet the Mighty Nein. You may recognize those two,” he gestures to the purple teifling and the monk, “as the two who murdered the High-Rictor. They’ve agreed to do me a favour, in exchange for me clearing their names.”

“So you’re the sorry sods he’s making go to that blasted facility,” you turned your head to the Gentleman, “Let me guess, I’m going with them?”

“You are the one who found it.”

“So when do we leave?” You asked, looking back at the group, who all seemed to be talking to one another. All of them except for the half-orc, who was instead watching you.

“Tomorrow, we need to prepare first.”

The Gentleman waved you off, and you went to your bed in the upper part of the Evening Nip, then preparing some things for your mission tomorrow. You went down to the bar, waiting for the Mighty Nein.

They finally arrived, and they were blindfolded and escorted to a dock, where you parted ways with you’re colleagues and rowed down the river with the Mighty Nein. You led them down the river, not talking and very aware that the half-orc and the monk were watching you. The Nein then decides to pull a race, and the goblin uses her ring of water walking. Until she hits a rock.

As she’s being pulled into the boat, you see a dark mantle drop, wrapping around her head, as well as the man and the half-orc. Luckily, you’re able to defeat them with almost no injuries.

“Those weren’t there before, I swear.” You say as the monk woman accuses you of trying to kill them. As she’s yelling at you, she stops and urges everyone to go faster due to rock monsters.

You drift downward before docking and sitting on the gravel beach as the large woman and blue teifling clear the rockslide.

“Mind telling us your name?” the half-orc asks, sitting beside you,

“Y/N,” you say, looking over, “And no, no last name. What about you?”

“I’m Fjord,” he says, then points to his party, “That there’s Beauregard and Jester. Then Mollymauk and Yasha. Those two are Caleb and Nott.” He pointed to where the goblin was braiding flowers into the man’s hair.

“Right. Apologies for the cave-in, when I first discovered this place, my group got attacked, one of them decide to destroy the wall.”

“Not a problem Y/N!” says Jester, clearing away the last rocks, “See, already cleared”

Mollymauk walks over and offers you his hand to helo you get up, as he does, he pulls you close to whisper in your ear, “Do you have any clue who I was?”

Was. Interesting choice of words, Mr. Mollymauk. “No, Cree seemed to though. So whatever little gang you two were in, I certainly wasn’t a member.”

“Something tells me there’s more to you than meets the eye Y/N, and I for one, am interested to find out what.”

Mollymauk back off at my shocked expression, walking away before saying over his shoulder, “And it’s just Molly, dear.”

We go down the stairs, through many trapped rooms (which Nott kept forgetting to check, leaving you to pick up her slack), Fjord almost falls down a pit, before finally reaching a large chamber.

The first thing you notice in the room is a teleportation circle, though it’s broken. You tell this to the Nein, which makes Caleb give you a quizzical look “And how do you know what a broken teleportation circle looks like?”

“I may be nothing more than a thief, but I am somewhat educated.”

You all begin searching around, and eventually, Caleb finds a journal written in Draconic. As you discuss it, the temperature drops and a skeletal form stretches from the group, ghastly skin stretched over its face.

“My secrets are yours.”

After that, you and the Nein launch into battle, and shockingly, you all fight very well together, working in sync.

You watched Jester sink to the ground, your own head pounding from the mental attacks. Molly charged at the undead Siff Dunder, and you shouted “Finish this Mollymauk!” as you ran towards Jester, giving her a healing potion you kept in your pocket.

The temperature drops again, cold energy emerging from a bookshelf. You can physically see Caleb remembering something, his eyes lighting. He mentions a physical form, like will o’ wisps and you swear under your breath as a series of attacks knocks Yasha unconscious. Jester is by her side instantly, healing her, before she and Beauregard pull down the bookshelf.

A large urn stands amongst pots and small cases, and Molly reaches through and destroys the urn. Siff, who was just attacking you and Fjord as you tried to distract it, disintegrates, and you both breathe a sigh of relief.

You all take a bit of time to collect yourself, and Fjord once again sits beside you, “Alright, I need to know. Why no last name?”

“Never got one.” You said, drinking from your waterskin and checking for any injuries.

“Orphan?”

“Yeah”

You notice a flash of something like sympathy on his face, and but in “I don’t need your pity. I’m perfectly fine without parents.”

“I was gonna say me too.”

You look at Fjord, “Right, sorry.”

Fjord looks like he’s about to ask another question, but you’re interrupted by Nott rubbing oil on herself and squeezing through the hole. Yasha just breaks the wall.

Why was that hot? You think to yourself

You see Nott bent over a case with her thieves tools out, trying to open a lock. Two minutes pass and you hear a gas leak and repeated coughing. “Poison,” she croaks, handing out the jewelry she found, even handing you a piece.

Beauregard searches through the urns, finding a spellbook, which she gives to Caleb. He traces some pattern in the air and finishes the spell, looking around the room. Your back is turned, but he gives you a look, nodding at Beau. You’re definitely hiding abilities other than the rouge ones you’ve displayed.

He points out a sword called the Magicians Judge, which Yasha takes. Molly, Jester, Fjord, and Beau leave to investigate further down the river, while you make camp with Caleb and Nott.

“You know magic,” Caleb says after a long stretch of silence. “How?”

A simple question, but you were reluctant to answer, Fjord already knows too much about you. “I stole some books off of a travelling wizard when I was 15. I was going to sell them, but they seemed interesting, so I taught myself.”

“How old are you?” Nott asked in between sips of her flask.

“23.” You answer, resting your head on your bag.

“What spells do you know?”

“Just a few illusions. Makes thievin’ easier.”

The interrogation seemed to stop then, and a few minutes later, the others return, and you all fall asleep.

You dream of being chased through Alfeild after stealing the books. You ran and ran, jumping on carriages until you deemed yourself far enough away. Late nights of learning magic, trying to get a hold on precious components with no money. Slowly learning.

When you woke up, you realized you shouldn’t have slept around strangers, your true form peeking through. You shift slowly back, keeping your cloak wrapped around you.

“Fjord, you have a little something right here.” Jester says, pointing out the dried blood on the corner of his mouth.”

“Oh, yeah, I grind my teeth,” Fjord explains blushing slightly as he wipes it. As he does you notice his tusks are shorter than other half-orcs you’ve seen.

Jester notices it too and starts questioning him about them. Fjord gets nervous and says “When I was younger, they used to make fun of my teeth, so I got rid of the target.”

“The kids at the orphanage?” You ground out, all too familiar with asshole kids

“Yeah, it just kinda became a habit.”

“Did you ever kill them?” Yasha asked, looking very serious,

Nott quickly became concerned “Yasha. Have you ever killed a kid?”

No answer.

Immediately, the Mighty Nein promised that if he grew them out they’d support him. You had a moment then. These people hadn’t known each other long, minus a couple of obvious pairings, but you could tell they were good people. Certainly better than the Gentleman’s goons.

You all make your way up to the Gentleman’s lair, keeping quiet. You’re lost in thought, right up until you take the blindfold off of the Nein. You pull Fjord aside before he gets to the Gentleman.

“I still have to talk to the Boss about it, but would it be alright if I maybe tagged along with you guys for a bit? You seem like good people, and I think I need a change of company.”

“I’d have to talk to the other, but I don’t have a problem with it. You’re a good fighter Y/N, we could definitely use you.”

You nod and wait for the Mighty Nein to finish the meeting with the Gentleman before you sit down with him.

“Hey, Boss?” You say, waiting for permission to speak, “I was thinking, I might try travelling around a bit. I’ve never been good at staying in one place, you know my past. And those Migh-”

The Gentleman held up a hand, and you felt the entire bar fall silent. He was going to say no, you knew it.

“Y/N, you’ve been my best employee for the last several years. Your talents are unmatchable, and I don’t think I’ll ever find a replacement. But I get it. A change of pace is always needed. Go pack up your things, and don’t worry about your bar tab, I’ll pay.” He slid a pouch of gold across the table, “Here’s a little something to start you off.”

Holy shit.

“Thank you, sir.”

The Gentleman nodded, and you ran to pack your things. Fjord said something about the Leaky Tap, so you headed over. Right away, Jester threw her arms around you.

“Welcome to the Mighty Nein!”

[dentalcaring]

having some thoughts, idk how well i can articulate them, so this post might be kind of long and meandering, i just have Opinions and Thoughts.

i’ve been listening to TMA again, and enjoying it plenty, but i’ve noticed this sort of...upsetting pattern of behavior with certain characters (in various different fandom spaces) that are popularly perceived to be queer and/or trans. and i think a lot of it, at its root, comes back to this cultural obsession with youth, and also with people often portraying characters overly “relatable” to their own life experiences where canonical evidence doesn’t really support that.

there is obviously the issue with flanderization, i think gerry especially suffers from this, partially as a result of being something of a small character within the series, despite the relatively important/meaningful role he plays in the story. he’s often reduced down to “edgy guy that hates books” and i thin it’s truly a disservice to his character and life experience to melt it down to that, as funny as it is the first time you make a “beating up jurgen leitner in the sewer” joke.

but what disturbs me more is the fundamental misinterpretation of what was happening culturally during his lifetime, as well as a misunderstanding of what exactly he’s like & what being part of his generation may entail for his character, and an obsession with androgyny = gender nonconfirmity. because that’s not the case! 

there’s a ripple effect with this beyond fandom, and honestly one of my biggest pet peeves is when people don’t simply allow gerry to be a messy, unkempt, badly dyed, most likely queer goth that is very much an adult. by the time gerry is dying, he’s at the very least in his late 20s, though in my opinion, more likely in his early-mid 30s. your 30s are not old, but the way that fandom treats this by often coding him closer to 19-24 is...i don’t know, kind of a grim outlook. we all age, it’s part of being human. we’re not young and pretty forever. and that’s really, truly, okay. it should be okay! it’s beautiful. you don’t suddenly become boring or “old” the second you hit 25.

there’s also the matter of trans headcanons around gerry, where i’ll have to shift the conversation from being “shitty and kind of upsetting” to “this is ethically questionable” in this sort of...woobification of characters popularly headcanoned as trans. i’ve touched on this a few times in other posts in regards to characters like pickles the drummer from metalocalypse, where people will often take a character who is only ever portrayed as a washed up, middle-aged man and make him coquettish, flirty, small, and androgynous—because this is the perception of “what trans men are like.”

you could argue that its mostly trans people doing this, but i think it’s doing ourselves a disservice, as well as an issue to conflate androgyny with gender nonconformity. the point of being GNC is that you don’t conform to your perceived gender, not that you’re always going to be androgynous. people who are GNC may have more feminine or masculine features, strong features. its how you portray yourself, and your mannerisms, that make the difference. lets also not forget that the popular perception of androgyny is often very thin, white, conventionally attractive, able-bodied, young, and AFAB.

so circling back around to gerry, the popular interpretation seems to often be in line with this, and i think it comes down to this question: what are you saying when you make this character who is described as often being disheveled, probably well into his 30s, and scruffy on multiple occasions and glossing him over to be a pretty, young, glossy eboy? what are you saying when you make him curvy, small, and coquettish while at the same time calling him trans?

it’s not that people can never be this way, obviously, but i think its worth taking into consideration and examining when portraying a fictional character, and worth remembering that these things don’t really align with canon. not every character in the world will be made to be the most relatable to you. try to think outside yourself and think of how your portrayal might affect someone else who more realistically aligns with that character.

stop being allergic to age, and maybe branch out a bit more in terms of appearance. remember that gender nonconformity doesn’t always mean the popular perception of what androgyny is.

*addendum: i want to be clear the issue i have is just about making characters who shouldn’t really be young, able-bodied, white, conventionally attractive and waifish into #relatable characters for people who are all of the aforementioned things. there are already so many characters that represent this demographic

[odd-birds-and-booksellers]

Five times Jo asks Alex to dance and the one time she asks someone new.

The first time Jo and Alex ever dance together, they’re just friends. It’s new…their friendship. Alex isn’t exactly sure what to call it, in the space of two weeks she went from the annoying intern he was happy to keep as nothing more than a work colleague to the person he spent most of his time with. In the last week, she’s spent more nights on his couch than at home and they’ve grabbed dinner together every day. It’s funny they seemed to have fallen into this pattern without any real thought, it was the day after Ben and Bailey’s wedding they’d become inseparable, she’d sought him out at the end of shift insisting she needed pizza and beer and that he was paying thanks to the raging hangover she was sure was his fault.

He didn’t hate it...having her around all time that is. Which surprised him, it had been a long time since Alex had genuinely enjoyed being in someone else’s company for such a long period of time. Even now when Jos’ has one too many beers and is singing along loudly (and out of tune) to Taylor Swift (not Alex’s choice of course) he finds himself happy just to sit and watch her.

“Oh this is my favorite Alex, come dance with me,” Jo calls from where she’s spinning around in the kitchen. She’s reaching out for him, her warm hand against his forearm pulling him towards her.

“I don’t dance.” Alex protests, remaining firmly in his seat. Shaking his head as she continues to pull at him. He tries to keep his smile at bay but he’s secretly amused by the way she attempts to give him a puppy dog look.

“Don’t or can’t?”

“Both…whatever answer gets you away from me.” He grumbles, trying to remove her grip on his arm but she’s quick, tangling their fingers together and giving him another tug.

“Come on Alex…everyone can dance. Just one dance…pretty please.”

He groans but drops his beer bottle down on the counter and follows Jo back to her makeshift dance floor.

“One dance…and you’ll leave me alone?” He asks, cocking his head to the side as he sets one hand on her hip, the other still gripped in hers tightly. He doesn’t know the song well but he finds himself slowly swaying to the beat.

“I won’t bother you until at least tomorrow.” Jo reasons, smiling softly, a triumphant glint in her eyes that makes Alex think he should stop letting her get her way.

Alex's breath hitches as Jo lays her head against his chest a moment later, he’s sure she can feel the way his heart pounds in his chest. They stay that way for the rest of the song, just swaying back and forth and Alex is surprised to find himself actually enjoying holding Jo so close.

“See… dancing isn't that bad right?”

He pulls her closer, tighter until her chest was pressed flush against his. “No…no you're right, this is pretty good.”

The second time they danced was a couple of years later. They’ve just finished furnishing the loft, and Jos’ even surprised herself with how it had turned out. It really felt like a home…their home.

“I know you’re gonna say a record player is pointless, but it looks cute and before you laugh they were on like every Pinterest board I saw so we have to have one.” Jo reasons, hoping this wouldn’t turn into another disagreement as the throw pillows had. Apparently, because it looks good isn’t a good reason to spend money on Alex’s book.

Secretly she loves every argument/discussion they have. There's just something about them discussing their home, her first proper home that fills her with such joy.

Setting up the record player was easy. Jo had found it a nice home against the window of what she’d marked out to be the living room. She’d even picked up a few old records from the store, Elvis, The Beatles, even Ella Fitzgerald.

She set the record on the turntable and brought down the needle, then closed the lid. There was the crackle of static as the vinyl began to spin.

She reached for his hand during the first verse. “Dance with me?” Jo suggested her voice barely above a whisper. “I know you hate dancing but indulge me this one time.” She insists as he reluctantly places his hands in hers, allowing her to pull him in, their chests brushing up against each other as his hand finds her hip and he holds her against him warm and steady.

They sway like that for the duration of the song and Jo takes the time to scan their newfound home. It's everything she'd hoped it would be and more. She feels Alex's hand fidgeting over her spine as the song comes to an end as if he's contemplating ending their dance before she feels his fingertips drift lower, coming to rest on the small of her back.

“You’re happy right? I know you kinda hated this place at first but…”

“I’m more than happy…” He whispers, leaning back as he brings one hand up to rest against her cheek, brushing the loose hair from her bun behind her ear gently. Jo relaxes against him, letting her worries go at his reassuring words. “I’m home.”

The third time they dance together, Alex surprised them both by being the one to ask Jo to dance. They’re at their makeshift engagement party that the kids on the peds ward had insisted on having when Alex informed them all they couldn’t attend the wedding. It felt kinda surreal, to see various hospital staff all filter in as a handful of his patients gather in the family room. All these people gathered to celebrate him and Jo. He’s not sure how he’d ever got so lucky.

“For everyone who doesn’t know Dr. Alex and Dr. Jo are getting married this weekend…” Kimmy announces, tapping the microphone on the makeshift stage as everyone turns towards her. “And all of us here just wanted to wish you both a huge congratulations.” Alex feels a surge of emotion, as Jo wraps an arm around his waist resting her head against his shoulder. Her eyes were a little watery, maybe she was feeling just as overwhelmed as he was.

“So I thought I’d sing a little something for you both.” Kimmy grins, and Alex gives her a small nod, rolling his eyes as the familiar tune from Beauty and The Beast begins. Now it makes sense why she’d been practicing it all week.

“Think we should dance?” He asks, turning towards Jo.

“You wanna dance? You never wanna dance with me.”

Alex furrows his eyebrows at her statement, wrapping an arm around her waist, swaying them gently, “I never wanna dance full stop but with you…with you it’s definitely bearable.”

Jo rolls her eyes “Charming.”

Alex just chuckles as he takes a step back, keeping his hand firmly in hers. When their arms are outstretched, he tugs on her hand until she gets the memo and twirls back toward him. Alex catches her by the waist, grinning down at her as she laughs warmly.

Cheers erupt around them but Alex can’t bring himself to tear his gaze from Jo. She’s gonna be his wife and he for one can’t wait.

“I aim to please” He mutters before pulling her in closer, pressing his lips to hers as a few groans from the younger patients sound.

The fourth time they dance is a given. Their first dance as husband and wife, sure it's not the reception they planned but Avery's penthouse with everyone they care about most in the world feels as close to perfect as you can get.

“Come dance with your wife.” Jo cries as she makes her way through the crowd, reaching out for Alex who’s taken a seat at the kitchen island. He’d been enjoying a moment to just watch everyone around him. Days like this full of love and happiness were kinda rare to find.

“Jo, you know I hate dancing.” He whines but he's already on his feet, allowing her to guide him back through the crowd. He’s not gonna deny her today, not like he ever denied her before either.

She just smiles, and god it makes his heartache knowing that’s the smile he’s gonna wake up to every day for the rest of his life. “I know you say you hate dancing but I think you secretly like it.”

He turned his hand over in hers, wrapping his fingers around her palm before pulling her to him by the waist. Jo’s free arm sliding up to his shoulder as they spun slowly.

“Thank you…”

“For what?”

“Dancing with me even though you hate it.”

He holds their joint hands in the air, letting Jo turn herself away from him. She’s only out of his grip for a split second before she twirls back into him. He catches her, tips her backward until her hair is dangling down over his knee.

“I’ll always dance with you,” Alex whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before helping her stand straight again. He can hear the buzz of the party around them, see the bright light of flash go off somewhere as Jo wraps her hands around his neck, hiding her face against him.

“Should’ve put that in our vows.”

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, arms wrapped around each other swaying to whatever song is playing whether a slow dance suits it or not. They might be in a room full of their closest friends and chosen family but neither one can focus on anyone else.

“It’s funny…” Jo mumbles after a while, lifting her head so she can meet Alex’s gaze.

“What’s that?” Alex asks, his thumb tracing a soft pattern against the small of her back as her left hand sorts out his.

“In those lifetime movies, I used to watch. You wait the whole movie for the couple to kiss in the last five seconds and then you just assume that they end up together…in reality, it’s probably never a happy ever after.”

Alex frowns, he’s not quite sure what Jo was getting at but if she was doubting what happens next she shouldn’t. If they could make it through today and still end up married and all in one piece then they could make it through every day that came next.

“We don’t have to worry about that.” He smiles, the hand still clutching hers lifting a little higher so she can see the light catch against her wedding set as he runs his thumb across them.

“No, we don’t.”

The last time they dance together is a couple of days before Alex leaves. He seems to have thrown himself into work the last few weeks. He’s so busy he’s almost never home. They’re like ships passing in the night and Jo’s not ashamed to admit she misses her husband.

“Come on…” She mutters, turning the radio up slightly so the music can be heard over in the kitchen, holding her hand out to Alex who’s been staring at various charts since he’d arrived home in the early hours of the morning.

“Not now Jo…I’m exhausted okay?” He sighs brushing her hand away as he turns back to the pages before him.

Jo shakes her head refusing to take no for an answer as she carefully takes the documents from his hand. Setting them down on the table. She cups his cheek, turning his face towards her. “One dance. Come on.”

She watches the internal argument he’s having with himself, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

“Alex you promised…you’d always dance with me...for better or worse...till death do us part?”

He tenses at her words closing his eyes, but before Jo can even question it he’s up, slipping his hand into hers, leading them towards the empty space between the kitchen and the unused dining table with a frown.

“I know Mr. Grumpy…you hate dancing, you've told me before.”

“That’s Dr. Grumpy to you.”

Jo drops his hand only to lift her arms around his neck and Alex sets his hands loosely on her waist.

“I love you.” He breathes after a moment. He leans his head over her shoulder and drops a kiss to the side of her head, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist.

Jo smiles softly at his words as Alex presses her hand into his chest, over his heartbeat. They're gonna be okay, she's sure of it. They hold onto one another, dancing slowly as the song continues.

“I love you too, Dr. Grumpy.”

They keep swaying even as the song ends and another begins, Jo can’t remember what song had played next, but she knows they’d danced to it anyway.

Jo didn't dance much after Alex left. Didn't do much of anything that reminded her of him. She’d got rid of nearly every trace of him. She’d gone into survival mode and removed every last reminder of him from her life. That is except for the few things she just couldn’t bear to lose.

His shirt…the first one she’d ever borrowed. Back when they were just friends and she was crashing on his couch after one too many beers. The same shirt that’s now hanging loosely off her shoulder as she tries to tidy up after her rambunctious toddler, who’s currently making a mess pulling every record out from its cover and onto the floor.

Their wedding album hurt too much to keep. She couldn’t skim the pages without feeling sick. But she keeps one photo…she can’t not. There’s one photo taken at their wedding reception, Jo wasn't even aware of it being taken at the time. She's mid-spin, her hair fanning out around her, hand clutching Alex's tightly above her head. She looks so happy and carefree in that photo but that's not the reason she kept it, no she kept it because of the way Alex's looking at her in it. Like she was the only one in the room. He looks at her so intently that just the photo sets a fire deep inside her. No matter how painful the ending was, she knew how truly loved she was by him.

“Mommy…princess dress?” Luna asks, pulling the worn photo from its hiding space in an old record sleeve. Of course, she's found it, she’s into every draw and cupboard she can reach these days. Her eyes shine as she shakes the photo in Jo's direction.

“Yeah, mommy had a princess dress,” Jo agrees, lifting Luna up from the floor and settling them both on the couch. She’s too young to know that it's a wedding, too little to ask who the man holding her mother is. She was just excited that her mom looked like one of her favorite Disney characters. Jo stares down at the photo, it's not lost on her that she's sitting in the same spot the dance took place.

“Hey, Lulu?” Jo hums, pressing a kiss to the little girl's hair as she wriggles in her lap. “Shall we have a dance party?”

Jo hasn’t had much time to dance these last few years, hadn’t had much desire too but as she stares down at her daughter she suddenly feels the urge to dance again.

Luna nods, as Jo lifts her up off her lap before turning towards the old record player in the corner. She wipes her hand across the dust that’s settled on it before opening it up, taking a second for the slow melody to filter out. When she turns back Luna is already twirling around, her tutu flowing out around her.

Jo laughs as she lifts her baby girl up onto her hip, spinning them both. She throws her head back laughing as Luna squeals in delight, ordering Jo to keep spinning until they're both dizzy and their giggles drown out the music.