#but now i think he may have had some more inspiration from it cuz just found a photo of nowicki's 'the naming of cats'

[per-the-jellicle-magician]

New thesis idea: a critique of Barańczak's translation of the cats poems cuz he did not get the vibeTM at all, and I am annoyed by it

Or alternatively: how to translate light poetry right, a case study on Nowicki's translation of cats poems cuz he did get the vibeTM

[littledigits]

Random facts that may amuse you about the river episode of hilda

To be handed a script and then be like ' ok now lead your team to do the visuals' its like ,a wild experience so I want to share some of the weird things my brain latched onto .. For the door sequence, My pitch to our location and color designers was based off of a blacklight, under water themed mini-putt course I used to love when I was a kid. Just goes to show you can really pull inspiration from anywhere haha. I dont think anyone expected me to go that buck wild with it but I'm glad everyone was on board. anyway.. I lovingly called it Eugene's ' Putt Putt cave of doom ' . I wanted the doors to look kind of flat, like stage props ! The mini putt is STILL THERE BTW . look at this video. GOSH I MISS IT SO MUCH.

Anyway - It works great too because it allowed everyone to have the cooler blacklight palettes, where you can see Eugenes -true- colors. I wanted him to be duller outside of the water on purpose. Cuz hes just a lil old timey guy. A " slightly deranged Stan Laurel " , which was what i had in my pitch notes to the design team.

Heres another silly fact but we based part of the serpent off of the sarcastic fringehead cuz..look at it . its just like -AHHHHHHHHHH. It just waves its mouth infront of other fish and it looks scary but it doesnt DO ANYTHING. ( I think, biologists can correct me)

Also just in general I was vibing with the old..creatures on a map . Like. Of course we're going to give this serpent hooves. OF COURSE THIS SEA SERPENT NEEDS HOOVES. So the designers did a few rounds based off of way older illustrations.

The choice of shadow puppets was done to give Eugene an 'old timey' flavor. I really wanted him to feel more vaudeville and tap dancey - so the shadow puppets were to give him a..more modest intro. The adventures of prince achmed was an inspiration, because how old school animation can you get ! And it really backed up the use of bold colors. I wanted to save his BIGGEST performance to the end, also shout out to @castletoons who boarded this episode AND nailed the song sequence WITHOUT EVEN HAVING THE FINAL SONG?! It fit perfectly. It was fate.

oh , and if you felt a particular beetle juicey tone to this whole episode? You're not wrong ! While it wasnt on my mind when I was first working on visual concepts, our storyboard supervisor Jeff Bittle showed me this intro from the second season of the animated show. Everything zipping at the camera on this endless void ride was the perfect chaotic energy that really helped bring in that sinister tone.

UH SO YEAH I mean I could go on about some of the thought processes behind choices and stuff and honestly I dont want to get into the weeds with opening up a pandoras box on behind the scenes of hilda or whatever. But I thought this episode was a fun example to kind of share a bit of The entire team ran with this weird chaotic energy and I appreciate them so much for it. I'll always love this strange lil episode.

[asherashedwings]

FNF CONNECTED UNIVERSE LINE UP Part 1: The Boyfriends

Chat. I spent 34 hours in this canvas. I am so tired.

Anyways, when I began working on Connected Universe AU, I already knew I'd be making line ups. Cuz I love making line ups and I also love suffering.

Close-ups and lots of yapping under the cut

THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A LOT OF READING IM SO SORRY-

Alternate Universe Boyfriends

So all these guys, unlike the other BFs present on this line up, are actually BF but from different universes. They're the same dude.

I thought it'd be neat to display the fact that they're from different universes by drawing them all in different art styles. It was also a fun exercise to test my art style range.

So starting from the left, we got Base Game BF. The main universe one. He's drawn in my usual art style. Not much special about him. Boyfriend.XML my beloved. I will note here though that I did take some of the elements form my own BF design and threw them onto the AU BFs. So that's why they all have some sort of jacket/hoodie etc.

Then we got Yourself. I reverted to old tactics and used my sketch for his line art, which results in him having thicker line art in general. I also further distinguished him by giving him harsh black shading. He always has that. He already had it on his face, so I just gave it to the rest of his body too. Cuz silly. You. You could even say. Silly Billy- 💥💥💥

Then we have Funkadelix. Him and a few other BFs make use of the Blackburn brush for their line art, cuz idk I like that brush. I referenced the Mutant Mayhem style when making him, since in the Connected Universe, he's in the same universe as those turtles. His colors are mostly yoinked from the actual Funkadelix sprite. I think. I may have tweaked them a bit/eyeballed them idk. I prolly eyeballed them.

Then we got Monday Dusk Monolith (MDM). I really went with the mentality of "NO ROUND SHAPES" with this fucker. Just wanted him to look super sharp and scratchy, since that AU is literally dealing with an apocalypse. So sharp shapes just made sense in my brain.

I had a lot of issues settling on a style for Mix, so I just chose to take inspiration from the FNF loading screens, cuz it just fit in my brain, idk. His design also features present in my Pico design, like the stupid cleat shoes and stray hair lines. Yknow, since he's literally a mix of BF and Pico. He also uses Blackburn

Finally, HD. I decided to try and go for a semi realistic style for him, proportion wise at least. Cuz. Yknow. HD. He also uses the blackburn brush, but I also pulled an old tactic for him and made his sketch visible over his coloring. Cuz idk, I think it lends towards the vibe.

"Side" BFs

Okay, now we're REALLY getting into AU territory.

So from here on out, all the BFs are separate people from THE BF, and have their own names and shit.

So staring off, we got Blake. I was reading through his wiki trivia and saw them say his style was more "radical and funky" than base BF's. I saw the word funky and ran with it dawg. So that explains this clothes. I also tried my darndest to get rid of a lot of the BFs caps, cuz dude, I can't have that many fuckers having cubic backwards caps. So I gave Blake a pair of star shaped sunglasses cuz funky, chat, FUNKY. We decided that his stage name is Love Bird, and he chose that cuz that's a pet name his GF has for him, and if he had a band it'd be called The Birds of Paradise.

Then we got .XML. I immediately knew I wanted to give him a mullet. Look at this man and tell me he wouldn't have a mullet. Besides that, not much changed. Since he kept the name of .XML, I imagine he is actually related to BF in some way, and he just goes by his last name. They might be cousins or brothers or something idk. There's also more dumbass info on him here:

Then there's River, or G-Sides BF. I took a lot of inspiration from his teaser designs, cuz they were silly. Literally named his river after the dumbass river design on his sweater. I don't got much info on him besides that. I can't talk about River without including this image so here:

The New Yorkers

This group is literally named after the fact that they all live in NY in my AU. Technically, the Minus BFs should also be here, but they're their own group.

Starting with Bartholomew, or B3, I just took the shape of his glasses and ran with it. Chat I needed to get that shape language from somewhere. I actually drew him twice, since the first time around I really was not digging how I drew him. He's fine now tho. His ass only got brim, cuz he had to be different somehow. Other than that. not much changed for him.

Now Evan.. Evan gave me so many issues. Like, dawg I drew him three times. I kept on trying to make the orange in his upcoming design WORK but I just COULDNT chat i COULDNT

So, per @braveboiart 's request, I ended up getting rid of it entirely and replacing it with his blues and grays. They also gave me the advice of brightening the colors a bit, which was very easy for me to do, I love bright ass colors. I also touched up his design shape wise, since that was also lacking the first time around. So boom, zippers on the pants and baggy ass sleeves. I'm content with how he came out. Chat I did all his design touch ups while I was exhausted out of my mind. Sometimes you gotta be delirious with sleep deprivation in order to cook, kids, trust me (please do not be like me-)

Benjamin was pretty simple. Kept him soft, kept him round, kept him pastel. Got rid of the caution sign on his hoodie since .XML already had that, and just replaced it with paint splatters. Not much more to say.

With X's design, I got a lot of help from my good good friend @minxtheeenby , mainly when figuring out his hair style. Those braids are not actually his hair, and are fuckass cords that connect to his headphones and can move independently. Don't ask about the logic, I will not be thinking about it. He was born in Philly cuz of his fuckass white eyes. White eyes means Philly, I don't make the rules here.

Minus BFs

The colorful critters, these guys are.

So. Beta. I had actually drawn him before this point, and he didn't change much from then

He has arrow shaped top surgery scars cuz I love giving constantly shirtless characters top scars and I just. HAD TO once I had the idea to make them arrow shaped. Main things to change since that drawing are some details on his pants and some of his colors; notedly the fact that his hat is a darker color compared to his skin to further distinguish it. Also Brave kept trying to get me to make parts of his design the same color as his nipples. So that happened /lh

Chat. I let my furry show with Blue. BUT CHAT HEAR ME OUT. On the wiki it's stated that he's a "Dog??". You think I could look at that and not go all the way? So yeah. Dog. He's silly and he got his weird ear ring things from his sister (Minus Miku).

Not much to say on Mean, he barely changed. I just drew him in my style and added a few details. He might also be an alien, idk.

Now, I posted about Golden a bit, but for those who didn't see that insanity: I made him an Alien Hominid. Cuz small yellow alien=Alien Hominid in my brain. Flawless logic. (Don't worry chat, I sat down and extensively researched the AH series to the best of my ability to check if it made sense. And I didn't see anything that would make it not make sense?) But yeah, silly. Him and Otis might be buddies, cuz goofy.

Who Fuckin Knows

These guys are just all the guys I had nowhere else to put. Miscellaneous group.

So first we have Bonnie, or Saturday Night Swappin' BF. He's another one that I had to go back and touch up. I actually touched him up the same night/morning as Evan. He ended up turning purple. The name we assigned him was an omen /j Chat I swear he was originally blue, I don't know what happened

HC that he just got really into FNaF when he was younger and has just been cosplaying a humanized Bonnie the Bunny ever since /hj

BIDU GAVE ME SO MANY ISSUES AND IDK WHY. It's prolly cuz by the time I got to him I was getting SUPER burnt. But I prospered and was able to finish him. And I don't hate how he came out, so bonus points there. Main change was replacing the prohibition sign on his shirt with a lightning bolt, cuz no one but BF is allowed to have that symbol, and Bidu already had lightning bolt imagery, so eh why not. His eyebrows being green, at least in my style, implies his hair is naturally green, and he just added the blue and pink, and I find that slightly humorous, idk.

Keith (StarCatcher) was another one I had to go back and touch up, but that's due to the fact that I was informed that him and his GF got a redesign before the creator deleted their FNF stuff. So I had to go back and fix my design according to that. I also leaned into the scape suit direction cuz SHAPE.

Now, you might be wondering, why is Flippin BF here and not with the other alternates? He was grouped with him in a previous post? Well, that's because after more assessment, I decided that Friday Night Flippin' is in fact, in the same universe as Base FNF and not an alternate universe like I had previously decided. So I changed his design a bit (mainly just getting rid of his hat and changing the color of his shoes) and boom. Different guy. He is staying pixel art tho. I do still need to come up with a different name for him tho.

Now this next one, Heath, is not from a currently existing mod, but from an FNF AU my friend Minx is making.

I decided to include him cuz he's silly and I love him. Their AU is canon to the Connected Universe.

Okay, so Cam (Hellbeats BF) changed A LOT. I let my furry slip out again. BUT I HAVE ANOTHER REASON FOR IT. See, in this connected universe, it's not just Newgrounds stuff that is canon. I also made other fandoms I'm in canon. So that means the Hellaverse is canon (specifically my rewritten version of it), and Hellbeats has to fit in with that. So I had to assign the characters species from that universe as well. So I made Cam a cherub, cuz I wanted him to stay short as fuck. He's also a raccoon cuz he's a lil shit and I thought it'd fit If ur curious, this is what everyone else is:

Okay I'm done yapping now. Gonna be doing the GFs next.

[luvkyu]

May I req a top!bangchan x bot!mreader where the male reader had past memory with bang chan when they had a big fight in the kitchen but bang chan make it out for the mreader by dancing him the kitchen *its inspired to taylor's 'all too well' cuz I want to cry af so make it more angst and a little bit fluff* In the present they met again in an art museum and its up to you whether they'd be back together or not (if not make it more angsty)

PS: I LOVE UR WORKS ❤️💯😘

all too well ( bang chan )

top!chan x btm!male!reader

chan meets an ex lover after a long time apart.

content : 0.9k words, angst/kinda fluffish at the end

( a/n ) i changed this just a little bit but i hope you like it <33

y/n blinked away the tears that were welling up in his eyes. he took a deep breath and looked at his boyfriend, who was standing across from him in his kitchen. the room was dark with the exception of the light that came from y/n's refrigerator, which neither of them had bothered to close yet.

chan was silent. his gaze continued to rest on y/n, face softly illuminated by the refrigerator light. the pair had been arguing for a bit, and they were both exhausted.

"chan, i'm sorry. i don't know what you expect me to do. quit my job?"

"no..! i know you love your job, but.. i don't know, i barely feel like i have a boyfriend anymore. you're just always working."

y/n sighed and rubbed his face.

"okay so, do you wanna plan more dates or something?"

"we've tried that already. you always end up busy and there's just not much time to be together," chan muttered in response. a scoff left y/n's lips in turn.

"well, babe, i'm really trying to work with you here..!" y/n's slightly raised voice made himself wince. he sighed again and clenched his fists out of frustration. "i've worked so hard to get to the position i'm at with this job, chan. i can't just put my responsibilities aside whenever i want. i literally take out my calendar to try and sort out my schedule to make time for us. is that just not enough anymore?"

chan was quiet again. the next words that left his mouth made y/n's heart sink.

"no, maybe it's not.."

three years later

"oh, i love this one," minho said quietly. chan nodded in agreement after following his friend's gaze to the next painting on the wall.

chan's head soon turned in different directions, realization hitting him. "uh.. i think we lost seungmin."

minho's brows raised at this, also looking around for their third friend.

"i'll find him, you keep going around the museum," chan assured.

as he started walking around more in search of his missing friend, his eyes soon found a familiar face. it definitely wasn't seungmin though.

y/n stood alone, looking up at a sculpture that was a ways away. his hair had grown out a little and he was wearing a rather nice outfit. chan felt his heart skip a beat, unable to tear his gaze away from his ex-boyfriend. and soon, y/n's own gaze met chan's after looking around while he moved to the next artwork in the exhibit. they now stood in silence, eyes locked from across the room.

when y/n finally looked away, a small smile lifted at the corner of chan's lips. y/n was always the shy one between them and chan couldn't deny that he loved it. the way his eyes would flicker away and the rosy pink color would blossom on his cheeks made chan want to gush at how cute he was.

after some debate in his head, chan finally decided to go stand beside him. he gazed up at the same painting that y/n had moved over to.

"you always liked this artist," chan said happily.

y/n looked over at him, a little lost for words. he simply nodded before looking back at the painting.

"so, how you been?" chan asked, clearly determined.

y/n looked at him again. "what are you doing?"

"making conversation. is that wrong?"

y/n frowned.

"you know i don't like small talk, so yes, that's wrong."

"oh right," chan quickly responded. "okay, i'll think of a better question.. mm.. would you like to get some coffee with me?"

y/n turned to chan in surprise.

"coffee..?"

"or tea if that's better," chan suggested. he could see the gears turning in y/n's head before his attention went right back to the painting in front of them.

"i'm looking at art right now," y/n answered with a blatant tone.

chan nodded, still smiling. he could tell the other was just being stubborn.

"alright, take your time. i can wait."

y/n stayed quiet. they both continued to admire the museum's works for a few minutes. y/n would travel between art pieces, chan following patiently as if he were looking on his own.

"tell you what," chan finally spoke quietly, "there's a coffee place right across the street from here. i think i'll go sit there for, maybe.. the next half hour? maybe i'll see you there."

y/n looked back at chan one more time, now watching him give a sweet smile before he turned to to leave. he walked back over to minho, seungmin still missing somewhere else in the museum.

"was that..?"

chan nodded at the question from minho. "y/n," he finished for him.

"shit.." minho mumbled.

"we're gonna go get coffee i think."

minho looked over at y/n, who seemed to be staying put.

"you are?.. he doesn't seem to be going anywhere."

chan smiled and nodded.

"well, i invited him to come for coffee, at least. i think he's just being stubborn right now. he'll meet me there, don't worry."

"..how do you know?"

"i just know, i guess," chan answered in confidence. "i know him all too well."

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Give Me Your Heart, Make It Real, Or Else Forget About It

Pairing(s): Manolo Sanchez x Reader, Manolo Sanchez x Maria Posada, Joaquin Mondragon x Reader

Warnings: soft nsfw, implications, break ups, Manolo might be OOC since it’s been a while that i’ve written for the book of life, bsf to lovers, gonna try writing for gn reader for first time, probably not as fluffy as anon may have wanted, a lil angsty cuz that’s my bread and butter, world expansion, alcohol consumption, both reader and Manolo are of age, dancing, young horny adults

Words: 8029 (jfc this has got to be my longest fic ever. fingers crossed it doesn’t suck lol)

Summary: Only one thing comes to mind when faced with mending your friend’s broken heart: drinking.

* inspired by Santana’s “Smooth” 

*Man now I really want pan dulce

“Jesus, Manolo.” You breathe out when you open your front door. His eyes were red and puffy, shoulders slouched forward utterly defeated. Even his hair, meticulously styled was a mess that drooped over his face. It was starting to get dark, street lamps were barely starting to be lit. 

When he brings his big brown eyes to look up at you, you know whatever happened was bad. Worse than anything you had seen him go through before. Your heart plummets. The worst thing was seeing your best friend in shambles. 

His lips move, about to say something but thinks better about it when a glossy sheen grows over his eyes like he’s about to cry. Immediately you usher him inside your hacienda and settle him down on your sofa. He looked like a giant sitting on it, especially as you wrap him in one of your thick, quilted blankets your grandmother had made you. You scurry to your little cocina to grab a warm drink for him and perhaps some pan dulce if he wanted it although you doubt he has much of an appetite. Upon your return, Manolo is blankly staring at your wall. Normally lively eyes were dull, nearly lifeless. That scared you more than anything. You put aside what you brought him on a small end table and get on your knees in front of him, imploring to tell you what was wrong. His hands were large in your’s when you grab onto them and pull them close to your chest. Never before had Manolo been as broken as he was there on your sofa. Not even with the whole thing involving literal immortals like La Muerte and Xibalba. When Xibalba fooled everyone into thinking Maria was dead. Absolutely cruel of them to use your friends’ lives in a messed up bet just because they were oh so bored of immortality. Thankfully since then, life in San Angel returned to relative normality. Or as normal as San Angel could be. 

He wasn’t ready to talk. Not just yet. The only thing you knew he needed right now was to bury his face in your shoulder as you held him in your arms. His shoulders tremble and you feel wet plops against your shoulder. Allowing him to take however long necessary until he gathered his thoughts. The only thing you could think of that could put him in such a state was something bad happening to Maria. They definitely couldn’t have broken up. They were still in love with each other after all those years of waiting and pining. Surely their love would last forever. Unlike you and Joaquin who’d been doomed from the beginning. That had only lasted a year before things disintegrated between you and Joaquin. One of those situations where it turned out you loved him more than he loved you. Not everyone could have a fairytale relationship like Manolo and Maria. Funny how back then you were in Manolo’s position and he’d been the one consoling you. 

What you had thought was a baseless fear was actually reality for him. 

They had broken up.

Even as he told you the lead up, you still didn’t want to believe it. Sometimes love wasn’t enough to keep two people together. Maria has always had an adventurous spirit. It led her to many escapades and mishaps that your parents didn’t necessarily like. She got you and the boys into plenty of trouble. Her fun loving nature was what broke her bond with Manolo. She wanted to travel, see more of the great big world out there. Manolo though, he was all too happy staying in San Angel. While his family no longer walked on this plane of existence, he loathed the idea of leaving his home. Not after all he went through to get back and save it. Plus you and Joaquin were still here. He couldn’t up and leave his best friends. Maria exasperated herself with begging him to go with her, for she was leaving either way. She loved her work at the orphanage she missed traveling Europe. There was still so much of it she hadn’t seen. Both tried to come to a compromise but could not come up with one that would would satisfy them. Manolo was equally set with not leaving. He’d give Maria everything and anything but not this. His home was everything to him. All his memories of his family reside here. the last pieces of his father and grandmother.

While not as close to Maria as you were with Manny, you knew she would be equally devastated with this drastic turn of events. She’d loved Manolo, even as little kids you remember Maria as having a soft spot for the guitarrista. She didn’t have any other friends besides Manolo, Joaquin and you. You wonder, albeit bitterly, if she had sought comfort for Joaquin. After all, she had been the catalyst for your break up with him. He was still in love with her but accepted that she had chosen Manolo. You would always be second best to him. Unlike Maria, you had no great beauty and no talent to boast of. Not even your parents were of incredible birth like the great General Posada. They had humble jobs that kept you and your siblings fed and a roof over your head. You never held any of these things against her though. She was modest and kind and was someone who would help you up if you ever fell down. 

Finishing up his retelling, he slumps further into the sofa; weariness causing deep set lines under his eyes. He didn’t want to be alone in his own casa. He would be all alone there. You told him he could stay at your small house, for as long as he needed. Providing him with blankets and pillows, you leave him in your living room to get much required rest. Even when you woke up the following morning, Manolo was still sleeping like the dead with the blankets wrapped around him as tightly as a tortilla in a burrito. You let him sleep and go about your day, having sent word to your parents that you wouldn’t be able to work at the family panaderia. Manolo slept like the dead. Even when you broke one of your clay bowls as you toyed around with recipes to propose to your father with. He didn’t even twitch. Several times you checked to verify he was still breathing. Still alive. This was Manolo’s first ever breakup. You were much the same after your own. He rouses at your gentle prompting, reminding him to eat or drink water before going back to the numbness of sleep. 

Two days pass like this, with Manolo talking a little bit more each day but still looking blanched. When you return to work and tell your parents what has been going on, your mother says in inappropriate to have Manolo staying with you for as long as he has. You want to support your friend though and ignore her wary glances that she shoots you. 

After bidding him goodbye one morning, you make your way to work. Your little brothers are already under foot, running around the store and getting it ready to open for the day. In the cocina you hear your mother shouting at your brothers instructions and reminders as if they hadn’t been working here since the day they started walking. Mama made sure her children didn’t have idle hands. She’d even send the boys out to the town center to sell churros, not understanding why they would come back with white frosted churros and no sales. In time you hope she learns that little kids are not responsible sales people.

“There you are.” Your mama exclaims as she whirls out of the cocina and to the front counter. She’s already tossing you an apron. Prattling off the list of orders and tasks for the day, you nod absentmindedly while reaching around your back to tie together the straps of your stained apron you’d had for years. When the boys get too rowdy for her liking, she snaps at them, brandishing a wooden spoon and light threats.

She sighs and pushes you into the kitchen. “Go on. Your pap needs help with Senora Bigote’s order of three dozen conchas for her conquian night with the other ladies in her group.”

Papa is kneading dough with his strong hands that you’ve personally seen split a whole apple perfectly in half. He’s a big man and looks comical in the panaderia’s kitchen. In one corner of the room sat a wood fire oven, ready to be worked and seemingly standing in vigilance over the cocina. Automatically, you grab large baking trays and place them next to your father. You give him a quick peck on his cheek before grabbing half of the smooth, elastic dough to start shaping them.

He makes a grunting noise as he gently stops you. “I can handle the conchas. Start on the wedding cake for the Torres’.”

Obediently, you wipe off your hands and set out to gather everything you needed. You pass by clay pots and bowls used by generations of family bakers.

Solemnly your mind travels back to Manolo whose probably still fast asleep on your couch. There would be no wedding for them after all. Manolo always said he wanted you to make their reception cake when the time came. you’d already planned the flavors, layers, fruit and decorations. An occasion that had been anticipated for a while. Alas, no one would get to see the splendor of the cake you would have created for your best friend. 

Your mama takes care of the front of house often leaving just you and your dad in charge of the actual baking. 

Focused on your task, you lose track of time. When your mom goes into the kitchen to take over for you, it’s already lunch. Gently, you rotate your neck to work out the kinks and give your back a good stretch. You push open the half door that connects the front of the store to the kitchens. Both of your brothers had been sent out once again to sell churros in the heart of San Angel. You check the clock that fixed above the front door, wondering how Manolo was doing.

Front door bell jingling, your eyes move back down to the moustached face of Joaquin as he enters. You’re more than confused seeing him there. He’d avoided the panaderia after the break up. Even he shifts awkwardly in front of your widened gaze. His lush moustache wiggles as he tries to find the proper words. 

Saving him the effort of speaking first, you ask him with saccharine politeness “What can I get for you today sir?” Two years the both of you had been separated, but you still felt tender once you were back in his presence. 

Joaquin exhales and rubs at the back of his neck.  “Hey. Long time no see?” In reply you simply deadpan your face into a neutral stare. If he was going to beat around the bush you might as well get your mama to chase him out. He was wasting your time. Thankfully he was aware and gulps before continuing. “I gather you know about Manolo and Maria?”

Ah, of course. You stiffly nod “Yeah. Manolo showed up at my door the other day. He’s been sleeping on my sofa.”

He lets out a clipped laugh making something ugly in you unfurl. There’s a cruel little smirk subtly tugging up his lips but he hides it with his hand. “Of course he did.”

You didn’t bother to hide the sharpness of your frown, your elbows on the wooden counter and narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instantly regret slaps across his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Really. I came here because we have to do something. This an’t be how their relationship ends. Not after everything they’ve been through.”

You’d tried plenty of times to get Manolo to go back and talk with her. “It’s none of our business.”

Squinting his eyes at you, Joaquin places his hands on his hips. “You can’t be serious. Manolo literally died for Maria! They-They can’t end over something as stupid as this!”

“Apparently it’s not that stupid if it’s caused such a rift.” You counter smoothly.

A moment passes where neither of you say anything, just stare at one another. His nose scrunches up in frustration. Nostrils flare and chest heaving as he tries to prevent himself from saying something he’d truly regret. But you wore him thin. You’d always been able to get under his skin so easily. As kids you liked teasing him because he made it so easy. Nowadays it took a little more to ruffle him. 

“Maybe you’re secretly happy about this.”

This merry go round. You were familiar with this ride. “Not this again.”

When you roll your eyes, Joaquin prickles. “You and Manolo have always been close. Maybe too close to be just platonic.”

This had been a constant point of contention when you were still together. That had never been a problem before when you were kids. Those were simpler times when emotions such as jealousy wasn’t as toxic as in adulthood.

Remembering your parents in the back, you lower your voice. “Look, if you want to talk this over with Manolo, be my guest. I’m not poking my nose in his business unless he asks me to. I don’t want to talk about this here.”

His eyes follow your’s to the still swinging door. He understood and immediately straightens. If your mom caught Joaquin in her store, she’d froth at the mouth before lunging at him. Mama had never liked him and was more than happy when you told her you’d broken up. From his face you could tell Joaquin wanted to argue with you more. The medals that decorated his chest clink together as he lets go of a heavy breath. Reluctantly he turns his back to you and leaves the store. 

Joaquin’s appearance leaves you agitated for the rest of the day until your mom could no longer suffer through your sulky attitude. Your brothers having returned some time after lunch, its you whose being pushed out of the door with her wooden spoon. You’re of no use to her in that state and you were better off at home. She was right. You’d wanted to go home anyway to see how your best friend was faring. 

Your shoes click against the cobblestone streets that lead to your hacienda. An orange tint painted the sky and buildings. You many not be able to mend his heart right away but you know music and dancing always managed to revive his spirits. Anything that might act as a soothing balm for him. Worth a shot.

Front door unlocked, you turn the knob without any resistance. Manolo was still on your sofa but now he was sitting up. Recognition brings life to his eyes. He offers you a half-hearted smile just like with the other days you’d come home to him. “Welcome home.”

You go to his side. “Did Joaquin come over?”

He nods. You want to congratulate him on actually brushing his hair today. “Yeah. Tried to talk me into going back to Maria. But. . .” Manolo shakes his head.  “There’s no more talking left to be done with her. You know how Maria is.”

Yes, once she made a decision, she didn’t go back on it. General Posada tried for years to rein in that part of her to no avail. She was too much like her mother who had also left San Angel to pursue travel.

“And you’re really sure you don’t want to go with her? You won’t be gone forever.”

Sadly chuckling, his shoulders sag forward. “I did enough traveling in the Land of the Remembered and the Land of the Forgotten.”

Pursing your lips you affectionately pet his hair and feel him relax a little under your touch. “Why don’t you go clean up and come with me to listen to some good live music.”

From the down turn of his mouth,  you know he wants to reject the offer. You’d let him. Of course you wouldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to. You wanted this to be his choice, his decision. An after thought seems to change his mind though as he slowly nods his head. “Okay. That sounds like it could be fun.” For your benefit, he puts energy into his smile before you leave him to get ready and head for your room so you could change and freshen up as well. You’re sure there is flour dusting the top of your head making you look like an old lady. 

In the local cantina, they’d recently been hiring more live entertainment which included the Rodriguez brothers and even young Ignacio who Manolo had been teaching guitar to. Plus others in the neighborhood as well as musicians from nearby towns. The night life was really picking up in your once quiet San Angel. Plays were performed in the old bullfighting arena now, equally titillating the masses. Torches would illuminate the outside walls and if you lived close enough to the arena, you could hear the boisterous laughter of the crowd. It was nice to walk through the town at night, listening to joyful people. All four of you had gone out to enjoy such activities. And when you ended things with Joaquin, you and Manolo made it a point to have best friends night. They were always the best. Drinks were had (never too much because you always worked early in the mornings at the panaderia) and by the end of it your feet were about ready to fall off thanks to all the dancing. He always got you out of your reserved shell. You really shined brightly around him. Unsurprising that Joaquin may have been jealous by your closeness to the former matador. You’d always told him that was nonsense. Manolo had always been your friend. Just friend. Joaquin continually persisted that there was something more to your feelings for Manolo. 

Funny because Maria never saw an issue with how much time the two of you spent together. Sometimes she would even join in on your revelry. You weren’t jealous toward Maria being with him. Joaquin just likes to say stupid things. He still had to work on himself, undo whatever whispers were left over from Xibalba.

The both of you having dolled yourselves up (you had to admit that Manolo cut quite the figure in a matador outfit), you head out and down the street arm in arm. A lightness in his step that you were happy to see. His smile was still a watered down version of what it normally is. The goal of tonight was to get him out of his own head. Even if it’s just for a few hours. 

That night’s air tastes sweet on your tongue as you and Manolo are already laughing when coming upon the cantina. Music from inside so loud that its making the ground softly vibrate against the soles of your shoes. 

Manolo leans into you to ask “Do you know whose playing tonight?”

You list one out of town band and two local performers. From the entrance to the bar, everything becomes hazy, almost dream like as you and Manolo throw back drinks and grow more deliriously jubilant. Thankfully the music was good, aiding to the overall atmosphere. As music plays on, glasses were raised, you watch a glimmer of life return to Manolo’s eyes. Liquor infused a vibrant glow to your surroundings and the intricate patterns of the tiles beneath your feet. You spend time reminiscing of days past. Manolo couldn’t resist bringing up your terrible partners before Joaquin took that position. You tease back in return by making fun of how hopelessly moon eyed he’d been around Maria when you were kids. Thankfully it made him laugh instead of diminishing his smile. You hadn’t meant to bring Maria up but you’re happy that he didn’t react negatively to it. That was the only hitch and was quickly forgotten.

Manolo’s shoulders bump against your’s as he laughs or when he bobs to the flow of melody. He’s having an authentic good time. Relief blooms in your chest. Good. That was really good. 

The band playing strum their guitars with fervor and an impulsive spirit rose within you. You stand and extend your hand to Manolo, playful mischief lighting your smile. 

He lets out a soft chuckle and regards your hand. Encouraged by the music and your inviting gesture, he takes your hand, his lips curling into a reluctant but genuine smile. The two of you stumble, making your way to the center floor where others have already coupled off in small groups. Laughing about your clumsy feet, you cling to Manolo to make sure you don’t take a tumble. Manolo’s chest rumbles in his own giggling as his hands securely tighten on you. 

Your dancing is simple swaying at first as both of you try and find your groove. Two puzzle pieces finding their fit. He’s twirling you around, making you dizzy but you enjoy the lightheaded buzzing that it delivers to your head. Manolo insists you spin him as well and you do your best but he’s taller than you and he has to bend down a little bit in order for you to complete the move. You feel like children again. 

In the midst of rhythmic, drunken chaos, something extraordinary began to take shape between you that took you some time to recognize. The goofiness that was making the air silly and fun turns into something else. Manolo’s laughter, a sound as familiar to you as your own heart beat, melds seamlessly with the guitar chords in the background. His footing and turns grow surer with each passing minute as he acclimates to your pace. Distance between you shrinking as your bodies synchronized to the melody. Fingers brush against fingers and glances began to hold more weight than previously. A heaviness in his dark eyes when they land on your face. It makes your heart spasm in your chest.

You want to pin it on the alcohol flowing in your system. Maybe even the lighting in the bar that sharpened Manolo’s already exquisite face. The hitching beneath your breast as you become aware of just how close he is to you and the parting of his lips as his breathing becomes strained. And by his blown out pupils, you could only surmise that he was going through the same odd feelings you were. His Adam’s apple bobs nervously, his yearning becoming profoundly clear as he leans his face closer to your’s; drawn to you like a magnet. 

Realizing the hungry fire that ate away in your belly was attraction and want. For Manolo. Your best friend who had just broken up with the love of his life just a few days ago. 

His nose brushes against your’s. He says something, low enough that you would have been able to hear despite the loud music. Your brain is malfunctioning though. Unable to process his words.

This wasn’t right. Whatever it was.

You had too much respect for yourself to be his rebound. 

Abruptly you tear yourself away from him, horror turning that once bright fire into ash in your mouth. Music becomes white noise in your ears, you watch Manolo’s mouth move but couldn’t hear the words that he was actually saying. Slowly you back away from him. He follows you back to the table the both of you had previously sat at. Gripping the edge to stop your head from reeling further, you don’t hear Manolo come up from behind you.

“Please-”

You shake your head furiously and pivot on your feet. Too many emotions were hijacking your body. Unable to even look him in the face unless that feeling of attraction was to bloom in you once more. The buzz you’d been enjoying betrays you. 

It’s just the alcohol. You’re not really in love with him. Not after all this time. It just had to be your inebriated state. Any other reason for it, you refuse to acknowledge. If you stayed on the dance floor any longer, you would have kissed him. Or he would have kissed you. Someone would’ve initiated it. And if it were Manolo, you’d let him kiss you.

He tries to put a hand on your shoulder but his touch scalds you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t. . . I-I”

Taking a deep breath, finally you manage to meet his desperate gaze. Fear flashes vividly in them. Neither of you could even describe what had transpired as an accident. Vulnerability has your stomach curling into itself self-consciously. 

Joaquin was right all along. You and Manolo weren’t just friends. Definitely not anymore. What were you then if not friends? This would justify all of Joaquin’s accusations. going out was supposed to be for Manolo’s benefit, get his mind off of romance and relationships. Not to confuse him with these feelings that have sprout up so suddenly that it gives you whiplash.

“W... We should leave.” Your lead tongue finally moves to articulate words. Disappointment leaks from him but there nothing you could do about that. Wordlessly, the two of you leave the cantina. You don’t bother to look back and check if Manolo is following you. His soft, sad footsteps trek after you. Unlike early, the walk home is quiet. As much distance as possible is forced between you and Manolo. It just then reenters your mind that Manolo was sleeping on your couch. That had to end. Tonight though, you’d let him stay. He was in no state to be alone in his empty house. Now that would be adding cruelty. 

Inside of your home, you mumble a hasty goodnight and retreat to the safety of your room. Quietly you listen to his shuffling outside. A creak comes from the floorboards before you hear the sound of the couch as Manolo sits down.

What’s he thinking right now? Is he realizing he almost made a huge mistake in kissing you? He’s gotta be. Maybe this will make him go back to Maria to talk things out. Good. For the best. They were meant to be together. Everyone said so. Yet when you think about them going back to each other, a lump forms in the back of your throat that chokes you up. 

You wanted very much for the void to swallow you whole. Leave nothing left of you in the mortal world. You desired to go to the Land of the Forgotten and to have Xibalba tear you into pieces. 

When cruel morning light peeks in through your curtains, you pull your covers over your head. If you didn’t get up soon, you’re certain your mom will come and break down your door. Whether out of motherly concern or as your boss, you weren’t sure. But once you didn’t show up for work without a notice, she would hunt you down to the end of the earth. Drinks last night hadn’t been too bad to where you had a severe hangover, simply a dull ache that resonated at your temples. A cup of coffee will help with that. If you could gather the courage to get out of bed and face Manolo. No way you could put it off any longer. Prolonging the inevitable.

Running a hand over your face to dislodge signs of sleep, you roll off of your mattress and set about getting ready for the day. Dread is heavy in you after getting dressed, your hand hovering over your bedroom door knob. 

To your surprise, your living room is empty. The pillow and blanket Manolo had been using were neatly folded and placed atop of the sofa cushions. A folded piece of paper with your name scrawled on the front begs for your attention. Manolo became a fixture on your couch that seeing him not there makes you more uneasy than relieved. 

You can’t bring yourself to read it. Instead you tuck it into your pocket and head into your cocina to get coffee before going into work. 

The sinking feeling you’d experienced last night lingers in you. Your rambunctious little brothers, always running around, even notice how quiet you are and in turn aren’t as loud as usual. They even cast worrying glances at you when they think you’re not looking. Head down, you just worry yourself with keeping busy and numb. 

What happened last night. . . You replay every moment. Turning them over and wondering what exactly went wrong for you to so suddenly be in love with your best friend. Because now that you weren’t drunk, those feelings stayed. You overanalyze everything until you mentally exhaust yourself. 

At some point while you’re in the kitchen with your dad, the note Manolo left for you soundlessly slips out of your pocket. Papa maneuvers around you for something when he notices the slip of paper on the ground. He bends down to pick it up and stares at your name in print. He recognized that print. Seen it throughout the years change but he’d known the familiar swirls in the letters. Manolo’s writing. Papa opens it without any regard for your privacy.

His bushy eyebrows shoot up in shock at its contents and his eyes dart from the piece of paper to your shoulders as you fix together dough for the orejas. 

He makes you jump when he calls out your name. You turn and he’s holding the note with your name facing you. Gawking, your hands immediately pat down your clothes before realizing too late. “What is this?”

You knew he wouldn’t give it back to you, not until you explained it to him. Difficult when you didn’t even read it yourself. 

“What is he talking about?” Your normally stoic father was now shaking the paper in his hand. “What happened last night?”

The fever-like blush that stains your face embarrasses you. Yeah this was not a subject you wanted to broach with your dad. “Papa-”

“What is all the noise?” Mama hangs over the half-door to peer into the cocina. Papa bypasses you although you desperately make grabby hands at the note in his hand. He hands it to your mother and now she’s reading Manolo’s handwriting. She gasps, scandalized and her eyes round as she clutches the front of her apron like she was having a heart attack. 

Your brain feels like flan as your mouth makes lame attempts to explain yourself to your parents. You felt like a kid again after getting in trouble. As if you didn’t feel bad enough already. The best thing for you to do was to wait until they exhausted themselves. If you tried to talk now, they would only raise their voices.

And eventually they do run out of wind. You even wait an extra minute before explaining to them how Maria and Manolo broke up, he’d been staying with you since and that the two of you went out for some fun last night. Nothing out of the ordinary, your parents knew Manolo since he was a kid and always liked him. He was sweet, considerate with helping out around the panaderia if he was visiting even though he definitely didn’t have to. Another thing was how respectful Manolo was to your parents. They thought he was a good boy. Nothing like Joaquin. 

The note still troubles them and they bring up. “And this? What is he talking about?” Finally you snatch it from his hands to read it. 

They leave you be for a few moments as your eyes hungrily eat up Manolo’s written words:

I’m sorry. I never meant to make things awkward. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on your couch while you’re out at work. What else was there for me to do? I thought a lot about what Maria and I went through with Xibalba and La Muerte. Even before then. Everything seems to start and end at you though. When I worried about my future and what would happen, I knew you’d be there beside me as you’ve always been. And that gave me such relief. I thought I’d never feel joy again but then you suggested we go out to listen to music. You and the music woke me up to life again. I’m sorry I screwed everything up and probably hurt you. Separating from Maria was world ending, but life without you would thrust me into a completely endless void. I don’t know what any of last night meant. I understand if you’re upset with me and don’t want to see me. I hope some day soon you can forgive me and we can talk.

Manolo was always eloquent with his words. You weren’t angry with him. Not even when it happened. There were a lot of emotions swirling inside of you last night, not anger toward him though. An actual adult would have spoken to Manolo that same night to figure things out. You’d been so flustered and confused, even embarrassed and you just couldn’t face him in that moment. This couldn’t go on any longer. 

 You fold the note back up before addressing your parents. “I’m gonna step out for a little bit.” The seriousness in your tone as them quietly nodding, staring after you as you take your apron off and leave the panaderia.

You’d try his house first to see if he was there. A few places in mind to where Manolo could be. Mentally organizing them from the most possible to least. At this time of day, the streets were deserted except for a couple of vendors and stray chickens. Your work shoes, while perfect for standing hours at a time, were not exactly the best type to run in. 

The Sanchez home was quiet. Weird trying to adjust to Manolo’s great-grandmother not sitting out front while she’s knitting, her glasses nearly as big as her head. 

A few birds above twitter and swoop over the roof of the house. 

No one answers your persistent knocking. You even peek in through his windows to find not a soul in sight. Just the lonely chairs that once occupied his father and great-grandma. 

That’s when you pick out the gentle strumming of chords not too far away. You close your eyes and concentrate on the forlorn chords. They sang of the ache in Manolo’s heart. They came from the direction of the decommissioned bull fighting arena. Only a few blocks away, you start the short walk there. As you drew closer and closer, the singing of his guitar becomes stronger in force. 

Outside the arena walls, there are already a few individuals who had stopped to listen or try and peek their head inside. Instead of matador posters on the walls, there were now posters of performances that would be happening. 

The inside of your mouth is uncomfortably dry and the ramming of your heart nearly nauseates you into stopping. You had to. You loved Manolo too much to ruthlessly ignore him. That would be like ignoring the other part of you. He was ingrained in your every day life. It was weird not to talk to him.

You find Manolo alone, sitting silently in the middle of the ring. The old bull fighting arena where generations of his family had come to face off against the hoofed beast that furiously charged at them. All of that infamy ended with Manolo. He was never meant to be a killer. A lover, not a fighter. 

He’s mindlessly strumming the metal strings, face tilted up to the clear blue sky and letting the sun gift him with besos upon his cheeks. It sounded like the melody of whatever song was being played last night when you and Manolo danced together in the cantina. Only it lacked the vibrant energy. Dampened by his own mood. His only audience were a few birds that sat on the bench seats where spectators normally were. 

Sitting atop of the fence of the ring, you observe him silently. You don’t want to startle him. Plus you always loved when Manolo played guitar. He’d tried teaching you once upon a time but you lacked the patience for it. Wearing his traditional black and red traje de luces short jacket, you catch the sunlight glinting off of gold tassels. Your Manolo.

Just thinking that to yourself had you ruffled and blushing. He wasn’t your’s. You never saw him like that. Not before last night. Was that true though? There had to be other moments where your heart was struck by something you’d never felt before. You did get rosy eyed whenever you hung out in the arena while he was forced to train by Carlos. You’d do stupid little things to make him crack a smile as his father cracked down on him. You never liked seeing him despondent. Especially when the source was from Carlos Sanchez whom Manolo only wanted to be proud of him. 

As Manolo continues to play his guitar, he starts moving slowly until he’s completely turned around to face you. When he lifts his eyes to where you sat, you see him startled and nearly drop his guitar. You smile shyly. Now or never. So much was riding on this interaction with him. Your friendship dangling on the line. But as he registers you there and begins walking over to you, the courage you’d been able to nurture has shriveled up and died. This was scary. This was new.    

He’s tentative about approaching you, every movement he executed was calculated like he was coming up to a stray, scared animal. You couldn’t blame him. You’d completely ignored him the rest of last night. 

You run your tongue across your cracked lips. “Hey. . .”

His breath is shaky. “H-Hey.”

Patting the spot next to you on the fence, he carefully sets down his guitar and sits next to you; making sure he puts space between both of you. 

“I just read your note.” Slowly you kick your legs back and forth, something to release the pent up anxiety that needed an outlet. “I. . . You didn’t upset or hurt me last night. It was all just so confusing. You just broke up with the literal love of your life. I know I’m your best friend but the last thing I want to be is your rebound.”

Manolo blanches and attempts to stutter out his own exclamation but he required a moment to come up with his reply. “I never thought of you as a rebound. I’m not going to lie, everything is still confusing to me. Nothing has made sense since breaking up with Maria, but you’re a comfortable constant I can always cling to. Whatever last night meant to you, well. . .” The way he just refuses to look at you tells you more than he ever could verbally. 

“You. . . meant to kiss me?”

The tips of his ears actually BURN pink from his blush and a smile breaks across your face. “Not exaclty- well, i mean. . .” He huffs, frustrated with himself. “I figured, if it happens, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.”

Holy shit.

Your brain hums and that not so bad nauseous feeling rises back in you again. Realizing that it wasn’t nausea. It was something entirely different.

“Meaning?”

Fiddling with his strong, callused fingers, Manolo chews on his bottom lip. Then his chocolate dark eyes land on you. That look, it screamed love and desire all bundled into one great feeling.

He goes on to tell you “You know, there was a time while Maria was gone that I hoped you would look my way and see me as someone who was more than a friend to you.”

How could that be true? He’d always loved Maria and that love had neither diminished nor left his constant thoughts. He let everyone know that. Manolo and Joaquin would get into contests about who would win Maria over. Lighthearted fights of course. There was no hitting, more like bragging. You found these debates amusing and added your own commentary. 

“You liked me?” 

Manolo chuckles and nods. “Of course I did.” Making sound like it was only obvious that he did. “I started to think that maybe Maria and I weren’t meant to be together. That maybe I would be leagues happier with you. Why do you think I followed you around like some puppy?”

You never saw it like that. You thought you were the one to always be tagging along with Manolo and Joaquin. Little Joaquin even complained loudly to Manolo that you were annoying. 

Hands that were gripping the wood of the fence post you sat on grew sweaty as the damn hummingbird in your chest was going wild. 

“I never thought of you as a rebound or second choice.” He whispers and fluidly places his large hand atop of your’s. “I just thought. . . it was meant to be when we were dancing. All signs pointing to you. I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” You airly laugh. “I told you I wasn’t mad. But, I guess it makes more sense now.”

Cautiously, Manolo asks “Did I misread any signals?”

“Absolutely not.” Now it’s you chewing at your bottom lip. “I felt bad though. How sudden it was. Even worse is that this proves Joaquin was right. And he’s never right!”

Manolo almost falls over from his laughter. “What was he right about?”

“That we were more than just friends. He never did like how much time we spent together.” How many times had you fought with your ex about it? Too many. Now you would have the egg on your face when Joaquin finds out. You didn’t want him gloating how you were wrong. And you didn’t want to hurt Maria either. You knew you wouldn’t like it very much if your ex partner got over you quickly and was in a new relationship. “Did Joaquin know about your crush when we were kids?”

Lips pressed in a thin line, Manolo nods. “Yeah. That could probably be why he thought us hanging out so much was weird.” He groans too when he realizes that he’ll be getting an earful from Joaquin once news of of this got to him. Plenty of times they had the same argument that you and Joaquin did. How both of you spent too much time together. You guys didn’t act like just friends. You were always closer. Always seated next to each other. Always laughing so loud that it annoyed your other companion. 

“You’re right that this is sudden.” He acknowledges your previous comment. “I think I need more time before we officially become a couple.”

You quirk an eyebrow up. “Oh? Who said I wanted to be with you?”

That made him pale and you knew your joke was a little too mean. You laugh and reassure him you were just kidding, his easy going smile once more on his face. 

In the meantime, you carefully angle your body so you’re closer to him and reach your hands out to cup his face. So handsome. That dumb smile on his face made you want to eat him up. He leans into your touch and before he knows it, you have your lips on his.

And that’s how the both of you went tumbling off the fence.

Manolo’s body softens your fall at least. Both of you are laughing though. “Oh dios mio Manolo are you okay?”

His chest moves up and down as he gasps out his own laughter. “Never better.” He gives you a thumbs up. 

You hover above him before taking his lips once more in a drawn-out kiss that left him breathless and starry eyed and you with fire in your blood. Hands found their way on your hips and by a force of magic, you end up straddling his waist. 

Choking on your own breath, skin underneath your clothes tingle when he runs his hands from your hips to the swell of your thighs. A simple action that left you overly sensitive and wanting for more. 

Pressing yourself flat against him, your lips devour his neck with the gentlest of nips that leaves Manolo a panting, squirming mess under you. He’s trying to say something but moans when your own hands do their own exploration. 

Restraint is needed for you to peel away from him and to stand up on wobbly legs. Manolo looks up at you with disoriented eyes. “Where are you going?” 

“Well, we very well can’t be making out in public. Not when we’re not officially a couple.” You smirk at him and wait for Manolo to get to his feet and run after you.

His house being the closest, you race him to the front door but he caught you in his arms and you let out a surprised squeal as this matador gone guitarrista hauls you into his arms. When the door clicks closed, you’re on him once again. Tongues wrestle, and clothes are discarded haphazardly. Your brain barely registers your back being pressed up against his wall or how he’s supporting the bulk of your weight with his arms. 

A blur of kisses, caresses, and moans ensue along with a glowing sheen of sweat that makes your skin tacky but you hardly mind. Not when you’re entangled with Manolo.

In his thrusts, Manolo was making you a promise that this was true. He’d give you his all. When the time came the both of you would tell the world of your love. By then you’ll be ready to face Joaquin’s scrutiny. 

At some point your bodies had made it to his bedroom but not necessarily to his bed. 

On his floor, you stare up hazily at his ceiling as your head rests atop of his arm. He’s sated and content to stay down there if it meant you could remain in his arms. Free hand swirling patterns along your bare skin. Manolo’s humming softly while you nuzzle the crook of his neck that has little love bites scattered. 

“Are you sure about this, Manolo?” This feels like a dream. But none of your’s had ever felt as real as this one. The heady delirium of sex lightened and reality was creeping back on you. Specifics would have to be ironed out to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings. Admitting that he wanted you, there was no willpower in you to stop yourself from tasting him. Common sense had fled from you in the split seconds before you kissed him. 

His prominent curly cue bobs as he shifts his head. “I am a little worried. But you’re with me, so things can’t be too bad.” Face optimistic, it smothers the negative thoughts that had been slithering around you. 

“Oh you should most definitely be worried. ‘Cuz when I get back to work, my parents will definitely know something happened. And they will know it’s you since they read your note.”

Comically, his eyes bug. “They read my note?! Why did you let them read it!” Face red, he’s mortified that your parents were aware of everything that happened. 

You laugh and clutch your stomach. “I didn’t let them! It slipped out of my pocket. Besides, I hadn’t read it yet so I didn’t know what it said. Otherwise I would have made sure not to take it with me!”

Manolo truly looks concerned for his life. “Your mama is gonna kill me. I saw what she did to Joaquin!”

Ah yes, she’d broken her wooden spoon on top of his head. She would have done a lot more were it not for your dad and Manolo restraining her.

“Just make sure to duck and you’ll be fine.”

[sirfrogsworth]

Peter McKinnon did a video with a photographer named Garrett King. And he just went on a very long rant about lazy photographers who use Photoshop and "fixing it in post."

He continues... "You can't do that in film. You can't just make a bad decision and say "Oh, I'll fix it in post." (Not true. There was plenty of editing in dark rooms in the past. And now you can scan a film photo and literally manipulate it like a digital photo.) Fix it in post drives me nuts. That statement is so played out. It drives me nuts that people say that. Cuz dude, I don't work that way."

He also says that choosing film is the "hard path" and keeps talking about how lazy photographers who photoshop are.

I love film photography. I have an old Minolta that my mom gave me that I hope to restore and use someday.

But film photographers drive *me* nuts sometimes.

IT'S NOT A COMPETITION!

BOTH THINGS ARE COOL!

This idea that their way of making art is more valid or authentic than my way of making art is just a continuation of an old school mentality that really needs to die. There are still some photographers who will bully people because they use autofocus or aperture priority mode.

I actually think learning to be really good at Photoshop is much more challenging than learning to be good at photography. Sure, there are fields like photographic microscopy and product photography that require years to master, but I've been learning Photoshop for 20 years and I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of what is possible.

I have seen people with near 0 experience take an amazing picture.

I have seen people who barely know how their camera works take consistently good photos. It's the "using only power chords" version of photography.

But I have never seen someone with 0 experience photoshop something artistically impressive.

When people say "that looks Photoshopped" as if that is an insult, it really breaks my heart. Photoshop was a huge reason for my success. My ability to lay in bed and make funny things was essential to building my blog.

My post on Karl Taylor's Clinque photoshoot had so many comments saying his work "looked photoshopped" and it was a little frustrating.

Firstly because he actually sculpts with light and isn't actually very good at Photoshop. When he takes a picture, it pretty much looks like that from the start. The rest is just minor compositing work and blemish removal.

And secondly, because that kind of product photography predates Photoshop. Karl was doing this when Photoshop was just a baby.

In fact, still life photography was inspired by Dutch paintings of fruit and shit.

They were all, "I cannot stand sitting with another yappy model for days on end. I'm sick of people. I'm just going to paint *stuff* but with really amazing lighting."

But it is also frustrating because there is this mentality that digital tools are lesser. As if digital artists just press a few buttons and cheat-code their way into good images.

It's the same mentality people have about CGI. CG artists are the modern day sculpturists. They do the same thing as Michaelangelo or Rodin, just with different tools and in a different medium. Oh, but they also animate their sculptures in thousands of frames in multiple dynamic lighting environments all while maintaining photorealism.

To me, Thanos is just as artistically impressive as the statue of David or The Thinker.

Blair Bunting is a very talented photographer who mixes incredible photographic technique and lighting with his amazing photo manipulation skills.

And while these photos may not be as "authentic" as that film photographer's picture of a dude sitting on a truck...

I can assure you no laziness was involved in Blair's process.

Also, I really didn't want to bring up disability. But it is really difficult for me to do the physical process of photography. Sometimes I do not have the energy to get the perfect "in camera" exposure. Sometimes I won't even check my settings and I will snap a picture knowing that I can make it cool with editing. I just look at the histogram, make sure the data I need is there, and do the rest on my computer.

During my adventure to photograph a bridge in Alton, I was only able to take 6 photos. Usually I will take hundreds in a session. My fatigue got the better of me and I nearly had to go to the hospital after walking up a hill. (I was having a bad day. I'm better now.) I didn't get the photos I wanted to get. And on the way down that hill, as I was out of breath, I pulled out my phone and tried to snap a pic of something cool I saw in front of me. The phone had been set 2 stops underexposed from a previous shot and so the picture was pretty much all in shadow. And because I was walking super slow, I had just missed the sun over the horizon.

But it's a RAW file. And I knew I could probably do something with it. I could "fix it in post." Not because I was being lazy. Mostly because I was trying not to hyperventilate. Apparently, my body can't handle slight inclines any longer.

And this is what I came up with.

I'm not saying this is an amazing photo. And it would have been really cool if I hadn't missed the sun. But this is what my eyes saw as I came down the hill and I was able to recreate that with digital tools.

I think that is pretty cool.

[autumnslance]

hi! random question for you because i stumbled upon your blog and have a lot of ffxiv character stuff in my head. what do you think about a WoL who is half dragon - do you think this could work? i'm not fully through the story so not sure on all the lore. but i was thinking of making an OC who is half dragon as an AuRa, who ik are NOT half dragon but what if the WoL was an actual half dragon? thanks for any input! have a nice day!

OK, this is one of those "here is the official lore, do with it, or not, what you will" answers. Cuz it's sorta kinda possible, in a way, just not how many other fantasy settings would do it.

Now, you say you're not all the way through story, but I don't know how far that means. So I may be vague about some things and spoil some others. Lore first, and then some options to play with it...

Number 1: FF14 dragons are aliens. It seems hinted at in some ways, but we do learn that for certain in an optional raid quest in Stormblood. They are extraterrestrial, do not originate on the same planet. Hence the strangeness and strength of their abilities, especially among Midgardsormr and his First Brood, from whom all other True Dragons descend.

Number 2: Dragons reproduce asexually. Their mating is more a meeting of the mind and heart (which is why dedicated sibling pairs, like Tiamat and Bahamut, are not a problem). Their development is highly mutable, and dependent on personality and environment. Which is why there are so many kinds of dragons, and why this form of procreation isn't a problem for them.

(They also don't really care about gender, we find out in later game; they use pronouns and gendered language, but it's more like they pick it out of a hat and also I think it's in part how mortals parse their draconic language and identification of each other.)

In the ARR patches, the Ishgardian church's story about the ancient Saint Shiva is "she lay with dragons" and...sorta? Again, not necessarily sex as we primates manage it, but there was a romantic relationship that's one of the central elements of Heavensward's story.

Number 3: Dragons do not turn into people. Not natural born True Dragons, anyway. There is one who uses a simulacrum/homunculus that he controls in order to walk among people, but it's an artificial puppet body created via certain methods.

Heretics can sometimes turn into dragons--sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently (not always their intent). They manage this by drinking dragons' blood (willingly given or not, depending on situation). There's also some plot points in HW where we learn some people in the past partook of a dragon's internal source of power and now it's spread through uncountable descendants--the reason for Dragoon abilities and heretics able to tap into that and become draconic.

Certain characters in certain questlines have noticeable powerful aetheric abilities and dragons can sense the connection--because one of their parents had imbibed dragon blood. There's also a quest where a Dragoon, who by training already has an "inner dragon" awoken and tapped into, is forced to drink dragon's blood and nearly loses her sanity and self, the attempt to transform her into a mindless beast (and the source of some of the Horde's shock troops, the characters realize) an element of the story, and can she overcome it.

(these side quests were part of my inspiration for Aeryn's unexpected backstory "Bearing Sins of the Past")

Number 4: There are dragon legends in the East, but only some have to do with True Dragons descended from the First Brood. We eventually learn Seiryu of the Four Lords is not a dragon, though often is mistaken for or described as one.

There are also throughout the world large flying lizards, dinosaurs, and other big reptilian creatures native to Hydaelyn, but not related to the First Brood. They're usually common animals with no intellect.

(This is because world lore writer Banri Oda just loves dinosaurs)

SO! All that said, what's this mean for making a half-dragon OC? Well, there's options!

To be lore compliant, someone of Coerthan descent and involved with, or from a family involved with, heresy (per the Ishgardian definition) can have draconic features, maybe try to pass themselves off as Au Ra, and/or have the ability to transform, either with a catalyst (blood, alchemy, a spell tapping into their inner dragon/draconic heritage, whatever) or because it's become an inherent part of them. Think draconic-blooded sorcerers from Dungeons & Dragons. They get their inherent magic due to draconic ancestry/influence somewhere in their lineage.

There's also always the mistaken/lying element; maybe the character thinks they are, or something has to do between their family and legends of the auspices and Four Lords. One of the things about FF14's lore is a lot of it is given in world and in characters; some of it is known to be wrong or misrepresented or incomplete etc., to give the devs wiggle room--as well as us as players.

One can partially ignore canon and say yeah, a humanoid parent boffed a draconic parent, in whatever form, and now this unlikely one in a million chance (or not, if we're already throwing away some lore) offspring is around and grown into an adventurer.

I've also seen folks portal in their OC from another fantasy setting where such things are more plausible, such as D&D (Baldur's Gate 3 is the current new hotness) or Warcraft (where it's honestly more assumed, as I can't recall an actual canon half-dragon but that's always a popular RP concept).

So while on the surface, some may say "no, that's not canon because--" there are ways to make it work within lore, if not how one usually thinks of "half-dragon" or "dragon-blooded" (tho kinda in the D&D sorcerer sense, IMO).

Or you throw out canon, and tell folks "I know the lore is X, but for my character's story I'm headcanoning Y instead." And then block any fussy attempts at lore policing.

Or just use the power of crossovers and portal stories/isekai to make it work, and again tell lore police to screw off.

Hope this helps, and happy OC writing!

[spiders-scare-me]

noir hcs

(these are hcs, not actual canon so these are things that are made up and NOT based off the comics)

hc him as 19 yrs old.

joined the spider society because he thought he maybe could do some good by helping others, only to regret it later. genuinely thinks Miguel is kinda a facist.

he also doesn’t regret joining the society because he got to spend time with Ham, Gwen, Peni, Hobie etc.

he and hobie bonded over similar views, became best friends for the last four ish months before Noir quit.

quit because he generally had a bad feeling about miguel, but got worse when he referred to robbie’s death as a canon event.( https://www.tumblr.com/lildoodlenoodle/720268522059612160/if-spider-noir-wasnt-kicked-off-the-elite-spider ) (based off of)

taught hobie how to pickpocket/steal things in different places/shops before he quit. especially shops in Noirs dimension where it was easier to put something in your pocket and leave without anybody noticing.

( https://www.tumblr.com/butevrythinggoesaway/719504366077345792/i-kind-of-headcanon-noir-as-having-kelptomania-so ) (inspired)

Miguel hates him, probably because Noir rivals him in size and also questions the way Miguel runs things around the spider society.

(Miguel is canonically 6’9 and i hc Noir as around 6’5)

Miguel once asked (very rudely) in front of hobie, if Noir only dated Hobie because he was similar to Robbie. You can only IMAGINE what Noir almost did (aka assassinate Miguel) before he was stopped by most spider people who are loyal to Miguel. Basically, Noir went even more crazy because of that since Miguel uses Robbie as a way to get to him.

Noir in fact didn’t want to date anyone because of some stuff that happened, but when he met Hobie and got to know him, he instantly fell in love.

Miguel simply hates Noir, but can’t fire him or kick him out for no reason so Miguel picks on him until he snaps.

he acts like Peni’s older brother, being protective of her. she became depressed after he quit the spider society because she really cared about him.

most likely smokes, Peni hates it and always takes his cigarette from him to put it out. has dumped water on him multiple times. Hobie also puts out Noirs cigarette when he sees him smoking.

humor is his coping mechanism, example (my interpretation of the scenes):

when miles said his uncle was the prowler, Noir responded with “this is a pretty hardcore origin story” which sounds like he’s trying to make the situation a bit lighter by joking a bit.

as well as when aunt may asked if they could fight doc ock outside, he replied with “We don’t pick the ballroom, we just dance”

another one: when he, peni and ham met gwen, miles and peter for the first time, peter asked noir how they got there and he answered with “it’s a long story” only to say right after “maybe not that long”

(I INTERPRET THIS AS HUMOR FIGHT ME)

Hobie paints Noirs nails from time to time because it seems to relax him.

used to wear glasses because he had such bad eyes but now that he sees better because of the whole spider thing, he wears them cuz they’re cool.

his favorite color is purple because of robbie. (angst obvi) ( https://www.tumblr.com/lildoodlenoodle/721163033344425984/me-watching-everyone-on-tumblrtiktok-say-spider )

(based off of)

his relationship with aunt may is so wholesome. she’s against him killing facists etc, but still loves him more than anything.

his style is absolutely IMMACULATE. ( https://www.tumblr.com/spiders-scare-me/723947203857694720/tried-to-find-references-for-30s-mens-fashion-and ) (based off my own post) ( https://www.tumblr.com/spiders-scare-me/723996134618628096/no-stfu-im-so-fucking-obsessed )

i tried :,) don’t bully me

i’ll post more later if it’s wanted obvi

credits to @lildoodlenoodle and @butevrythinggoesaway for the posts i linked <3

[greeenchrysanthemums]

I like Gem and Etho’s dynamics in their videos a lot and I love how you have them intertwined as sibling-like relationship in your au. (We need more of Gem and Etho fics lmao) That being said, have you ever thought of how Gem and Etho first meet after years of being apart? Obviously Gem wouldn’t have recognise Etho (like you said), but how did Etho recognise her? Was it an instant recognition at first sight? Or was it the little details like the way she acts and speaks that made Etho link the connection with the little girl in his memories? Or did Etho only made the connection after the small talks where Gem had mentioned about him?

I’m also curious of when, where and how they meet. Was it in the middle of Gem’s mission when she was dealing with another resistance matter? A casual patrol on the streets? Or was it during her break time/vacation/after work where it’s just Gem being Gem needing some time away from the stress, wandering aimless searching for interesting shops and finds Mumbo and Etho being goofy with their customers?

I’m sorry if I have overwhelmed you with too many questions 😅 feel free to ignore the ask if you don’t want to answer.

(Pssst. Btw if you haven’t thought about it, may I propose adding wither rose twin Fwhip to the narrative? Like a bonus Easter eggs of some sort. Maybe Gem enter Mumbo and Etho’s shop cuz Fwhip needs redstone stuff and request Gem to do the errands after her knight duties? Of course, if you already have things planned, I’ll like to read the notes/snippets!)

Hello! First of all, yes, we need more Gem and Etho fics! I do love their dynamic. Second, do not even worry about all the questions! I enjoy receiving them greatly. 💚

As for your questions, I actually have a mini-fic written for how they meet again! I won't spoil it too much, as I plan to post it sometime soon, but they meet on one of Gem's off days while she is shopping.

For Gem, part of the reason she wouldn't recognize Etho is because she was so young when he left. She was only 8 years old, so it makes sense that her memories of him would be blurry at best. Etho, on the other hand, was already a teenager at the time the time of his departure. His memory of her would be much sharper, if a little bit hazy.

That doesn't mean he recognized her immediately, though. On that day, when she wandered into his shop by coincidence, he had a nagging feeling of nostalgia the entire time they talked, but he couldn't quite place her face. It didn't click for him until she had taken her leave. Stood in the doorway, she had smiled at him in the same way she used to as a child while she said her goodbyes and thanked him for his time.

He was almost knocked over by the amount of grief he felt when he realized who she was and what she had become. He now, admittedly, does his best to avoid her when she comes around. He knows it's wrong to avoid her like that, almost cruel given how close they used to be, but he just can't face her. He feels responsible for the path that she took, and he feels like he failed the little girl from his memories.

The only person he's ever told about his connection to Gem is Mumbo, and he has sworn the other man to secrecy. He doesn't want the bond they once shared to be exploited, even if it would probably make things easier for the resistance. He failed her once; he doesn't want to do it again.

And for that last bit, I have considered adding other Empires or Hermitcraft members to this au many times, but I have ultimately decided against it. This au is primarily inspired by the life series and I didn't want to dilute the character pool too much.

However, they may still appear as side characters eventually or be mentioned as easter eggs! I think I love them too much to leave them out entirely.

[just-an-emily-existing]

Ok so this is definitely inspired by @mean-scarlet-deceiver so thx for that! I just wanted to rant about Duck's little resistance to being ordered about by the controllers but not engines and so on

Soooo lets start off with Duck, he’s obviously Great Western and very proud of it, he’s able to tackle pretty much anything given to him, except for the possible mistreatment of him by his controller(s). ⤵️

During the time he was sent over to Sodor, (Summer of 1955 according to the wiki) Dieselization was taking over everywhere, the U.K, America, you name it, and getting rid of Steamies was a huge trend, by scrapping or just straight up abandoning them (Cue Percy going on his “They don’t repair them” speech) and it really makes me wonder, was Duck ever mistreated or worse, going to be scrapped but was saved by STH just in time? Cuz we’ve seen that GWR isn’t afraid to get rid of their steam engines like Oliver. Which brings me to another point but I’ll do that in a sec. With Duck, he seems to admire his railway so much that he just pushes those beliefs onto his peers while Oliver doesn’t really talk about his railway much, probably traumatised from his whole scrap escape.

Engines like Duck on GWR we’re probably easy to get rid of since they were so compliant and obedient. But with Duck, yes he stand up for himself to his peers, but not to STH. When he asks Duck to go to Edward's station, he does nothing, only gives him a tearful, “As you wish sir…”. It shows that Duck is still not really a suck-up to his controller, but is definitely obedient and just takes it. When Diesel tries to call STH “The Fat Controller” Duck cuts him off and corrects him. It’s very interesting how Duck is so willing to stick up for his controller, maybe even if they’re not so kind to him.

But then again, in “Diesel does it again”, Duck goes on a little strike with Percy to tell him that they refuse to work with Diesel but still Duck seems to be scared, saying “Beg pardon” and saying sir a lot. He seems even more scared when the narrator says, “In a quiet, hurt voice” which gives me the assumption that he feels betrayed, maybe thinking like “Why did he do this, I thought he solved the problem?” Later in the episode, Duck and Percy say, “What will TFC say? He won’t like it!” Which Diesel retorts with “Who's going to tell him I wonder? Not some goody-two shoes like you!” Which makes Duck and Percy shut up for the rest of the episode until Diesel gets more defiant and STH gets rid of him anyway. It really shows how even STH engines can be swayed by characters like Diesel, or maybe other bullies that they’ve had to face. With Duck informing STH about how others would say he “waddles” probably so which is why he doesn’t take shit from others now.

All in all, Duck is a very interesting character when you get past the GWR loving side of him. He’s not all rules and order, he’s also a dreamer, wanting to explore other lands or a bit of a mischievous character, messing with Diesel when he first arrives or with Henry and his 6 tender. I wish they did more with Duck instead of going with “He loves the GWR”

But for characters like Oliver who’ve had a bad experience with his railway, he probably isn't too fond of them, and doesn’t really talk about them much, but one thing Oliver has that Duck doesn’t is being swayed by the opinions of others so much he gets too cocky and ends up in the turntable, which Duck probably made fun of him for years. Although Oliver may have been jaded by his railway, he was quickly humbled by the next. But Oliver and Duck are both kinda scared of their controllers, with Duck being obedient and Oliver being scared he'll get sent away again by STH after ripping Scruffy apart. There’s that sense of fear for those above you with them and I wish we got more on their background and why that fear is always there. Even thought Oliver probably wants nothing more to do with GWR, he's still painted in their colors after being saved. He seems happy but honestly if I was him, I would’ve chosen literally any other color than the one from the railway that was going to kill me.

I wonder if Oliver feels betrayed by his railway, does he still respect them, does he hate them? It just makes me wonder what are his feelings for them now? I’m sure Duck and Oliver get into fights about how the GWR is or isn’t as good as the other thinks. We’ve seen Oliver retort back to Duck with “The Great Western Way, I know! And you’re doing it the wrong way.” So unlike Duck, Oliver isn't afraid to give a little clap-back to his railway.

Oliver is also an interesting character, we never really know about his time on the GWR besides that he was going to be scrapped by them, and we never really get any more info about the GWR. We see characters like Mr. Percival who runs the Skarloey Railway and such, but never the GWR. It’s all up for the fans like me I guess

Anyway I think I’m done yapping so tysm to everyone who read this!

[rielzero]

Just saw your post about ascended Astarion and male Tav fanfic. I am willing to rise to the challenge

If you need any prompts! here's some concept I've danced with in my head (up for anyone to use) inspired by my own character's potential AUs. Please do not claim ownership over the ideas, I'd love to see people's different spins. Please keep it to Male Tav, there's so many Female Tav fics out there already- I had ideas specifically with a male character in mind. M x M focus is preferred. I'm not bi or pan, so anything hinting to tav being exclusively gay is nice.

THESE ARE all PROMPTS / IDEAS not demands. I'm not here to control anyone's creative progress :V

I'm just a nerd be nice

Brain Damage Tav has used the tadpole powers but refuses to become half-illitid and keeps it how it is. Tav ascends Astarion- but is convinced by Jaheira or someone else that he is incapable of feeling love now and becomes afraid of him- (Astarion still is very much capable of love) Astarion responds of course like a scorned ex, and lies through his teeth when the break up happens and breaks tav's heart. Timeskip- it is revealed Tav's altered brain still has mindflayer powers, but because of the trauma of the final fight he suffers from severe memory loss and pretty much got themselves in a position were he is dying- only for Astarion to come around and save him by turning him- then be met with guilt and over-protectiveness when he realizes Tav does not remember their time together anymore. (would work for a series, this concept is what I intend to use for an AU of my character but it would be very different.) Lots of angst but soft ascended astarion towards male tav :3 very gentle- very protective.

You were There too AU were Tav was kept by Cazador but never turned, just kept as a snack- so Astarion knows him and they may have fallen in love during that time. During the ritual Cazador threatens to replace Astarion with Tav- Astarion goes feral.

I forget you're an Urchin Playing into the fact that Astarion was a corrupted Noble- knows what luxury life is like- inspired by how my tav is an urchin and very unfamiliar with luxury- Tav is Astarion's consort- but is very awkward not knowing ANYTHING about noble life, from etiquette to wearing jewelry and fancy garbs. Wholesome stuff- Probably lots of fluff. Astarion spoiling Tav and showing him off.

Three of them AU were Gale and Astarion and Tav are a in a polycule, after ascension Astarion becomes a little overly possessive over Tav- Gale notices a bit late and feels left out, but supports his loved ones new life goals... Of world domination.

I'm married, get over it Au were male tav has an horrible ex who breaks in the mansion because he thinks tav is enslaved to Astarion- but he's not- He's just as evil as Astarion. And they're very affectionate- Astarion enjoys rubbing it into the ex's face. Extra points if the ex is a human cleric, paladin, or bard with too much facial hair. (COUGHS)

Warlock? cool Any fic that plays into the warlock theme openly for tav, not similary to Wyll- all though I don't want to restrict anyone to a specific type of patron. (my patron is a great old one) keep in mind there's warlock patrons outside of the subclasses in the bg3 game if you need inspiration. If tav's patron is female, give them a mother-son kind of bond since tav is gay.

Other, Tropes I like described vaguely cuz my brain stoopid but ideas that can be expanded into one fic or more -oh shit you're dying don't worry I can fix it with a bite -you're so beautiful I want a 100 paintings of you akjdkhgkfhgk -The gods literally made you to ruin me god damn it I should've known -tav is small / fragile looking man but he can stab you 100 times over -tav can sing, or is creative but he doesn't like sharing this side of him (loki is 100% exactly this lol) hes easily embarrassed -tav is internally panicking because he is very very very gay. -tav has scars too and is very insecure about his body. -overprotectiveness, lots of handholding keep you close kinda stuff -wholesome physical affection, does not have sexual implications even if they talk dirty or flirt silly -words being used like petite, twink- or cute in the right context. -maybe a fic focussing on tav being half elf and the struggles that come with it. Otherwise leave race up to reader. -Tav was already a vampire before they met, or is a dhampir -Astarion and tav knew each other 200 years ago -I will pet you aggressively and affectionally and you will like it -who the fuck are you drawing? wait thats me??? oh -Astarion is creative too and might doodle. -love at first sight but in denial.. cuz its funny -tav has insomnia and needs cuddles... -tav is a necromancer and familiar with vampire lore. -anything reflecting the vampire bride/groom lore in a scene. (there's a reddit post explaining this) -Vampire hunters coming after tav in attempt to hurt Astarion because he's become pretty untouchable -Vampire Tav does not want to feed on his victims because he finds that too intimite -Vampire tav is a vampire lord too- but not an ascended one- and he isn't corrupted by greed. -Astarion technically can compel Tav, but has no desire to do so and voices this openly to anyone who tries to argue Tav is a slave. -If Astarion hurts tav by accident in any way he feels horrible and will shower him in gifts or thousands of love language things just to affirm that it was an oopsie and he did not want to do that. He'd never do that willingly. -consent consent consent anything with consent- love language is consent -tav was a sex worker himself before they met but not anymore -lots of fluff stuff -scheming husbands plotting the downfall of the world together, bonus points if tav is the mastermind and a genius -Polycule with Gale, either as Triad, or Triangle -Admiring from afar, staring- lots of staring- intense consential staring -astarion beating up tav's abusers while tav sips from a chalice like a spoiled consort -dramatic vampire parties and all the normie vampire lords are scared of Astarion and his consort -vampire politics are kind of like ballroom hissing contests with fancy banquets and showing off your partner -I will go feral if someone hurts or touches you -steer clear of the consort, or the master will gut you -jealous vampire lord tries to seduce tav but tav is very loyal to astarion and not having it -astarion gets a cleric or powerful mage in his court just to revive tav if tav dies -You offended my husband? I'm setting your village on fire -Everyone thinks the consort tav is weak- but the consort might actually be more dangerous oh no -None of the above lines have to be necessarily restricted by ingame universe, can all be AU- does not have to include the whole mindflayer drama. Rule of Cool.

Avoid these please? I personally dislike that -misgendering tav (babygirl, queen, girly, strictly effeminate- any words that might demasculinize tav, as a gay man this stuff makes me really uncomfortable) -Overly describing tav's features as if they're set without leaving it open to the reader (long hair, skin color, favorite colors, etc) -Astarion knew tav when tav was still a child and Astarion was an adult. -Astarion abusing tav physically, just.. Please no. -...they're teenagers in high school... *dies* -brainwashing.. No offense to people who like some tropes I don't- You're fine :V We all have different tastes!

Headcanons for how Ascension works that you can use (inspired by ingame dialogue and such) -Tav isn't a regular spawn, but a vampire groom- He was turned differently, not buried for 2 days. Astarion can sense Tav is in danger if he is a groom, or sense strong emotions from him. -Tav is not immune to sunlight unless he stays in close range of Astarion. (based on dialogue) -Astarion might be a bit warmer to the touch since he is a living vampire now. He does not have to feed on blood- but Tav still requires blood and is cold to the touch.

Might edit this post later with more.

[somethingclevermahogony]

Gonna double whammy you with the asks today - Is there a concept of fate in your world and how predestined are things? Sorry if this is a bit of a nebulous one lol

This is a bit of a complicated topic. Most cultures in Kobani do not have a concept of Fate in the sense of an entity or entities like the Fates of Germano-Norse myth that determine the path of a person's life. In the eyes of most cultures in Kobani, existence is built on cycles. The only true fate or pre-decided reality is that things will end and will be in turn either reborn or replaced. You are born and you die, that is fate. Matters of when and how, and what happens in between are typically the result of either your own actions or of some other entity divine or not, not some cosmic predestination. For this reason seers are explicitly not believed to see the future, but rather are believed to see paths and possibilities, not definite truth. The universe and the path of a life is shaped by tendencies and likelihoods, not entirely determined fate.

Of course there are some exceptions, the disciples of certain deities may believe that their lives are in some sense shaped and directed by their patron.

On perhaps a similar note, the Kishites in particular do not have a concept of "soulmates", the idea of your "perfect other" just existing out there, is quite a foreign concept. Ask a Kishite matron about the natter of soulmates and she will tell you, "The perfect house is built, not found."

Here is an excerpt, cuz why not

Istek seemed to read his expression and smiled. “It's true, I served the Temple of the Golden Poplar for years, that’s the story behind these.” He ran his fingers over his tattoos. “My father was sick at the time, but I believed that by serving the god faithfully that I could sustain him. And for sometime it seemed to work, until it didn’t. My father passed and I was lost and angry. I left the temple, because I was angry at the gods. I was angry that they let that happen.” “Are you still angry at them?” Narul asked. He thought of Suru. Had the gods allowed that? “No, no I’m not but the gods in my head are much different now. Look out there Narul, those are my gods. The sea and the sky, nature. I stopped believing that the things that happened to me were the result of some sort of divine hand. Fate isn’t nearly as clever or vindictive as people seem to think. My father didn’t die because the gods are cruel or because of some impiety on my part. My father died because he was sick and because that is what people do. They die. Even you will die someday. And say that I am wrong and that his passing was some intentional cruelty levelled against me by the gods, then they are fools, because that is what led me to finding the loves of my life.” He said all this with a smile, like a parent explaining the changing leaves to their child. “There has to be something more to it than that.” Narul muttered. “ Living and dying can’t just be pointless, there has to be some sort of meaning or purpose to it all. A reason why the gods made us…me, like this.” Istek shrugged. “Maybe there is more than one purpose that a person can have. From a grand sense maybe our purpose and our fate is simply to die, to be and then to not be. To feed into the cycle. I know that it's not very inspiring, it feels cheap, but think about it. Look at the sea and stars, and think about how tiny we are, Narul. How much can we truly matter when we look out at this big world? As a whole I think our purpose is ultimately to live and then to die.” “So what, is everything pointless then?” Narul could feel the anger rising in his chest. “No. Not even a little bit. We have meaning to other people. Is Ninma just a pointless thing to you?” “Of course not why…” “And Suru, is he?” “No…” “You see? There is meaning there. We mean something to other people. Suru had meaning to you, you had meaning to him. You will never understand the universe and the gods Narul, you may try all your long life, sages die and wither away trying. Don’t try to read fate, don’t torture yourself looking for some cosmic power. So maybe instead of trying to find purpose in the universe, you look for your purpose in others and yourself. My purpose is to be the person who loves my partners, to be a father, to be the big-headed captain shouting and jumping around the deck like a fool. That is my meaning Narul. Ask yourself what your meaning is, to yourself and to others. And ask the same about Suru, what does he mean to you?”

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[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello may I request for fuegoleon with a hybrid wife s/o who is half human and half sea fae? So she has water based magic and can control the ocean and can turn into a mermaid. (She's very beautiful too cuz mythically fae of the sea are very alluring and beautiful) I think it'd be really cool to see the dynamic between Fue's bold and passionate fire and his wife's calm but ferocious and uncontrollable water

Hiya~!

I was very much enabled and inspired for this fic~ I hope you enjoy it! I didn't think that Fue and such an s/o would really be that different deep down

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Fanfic type: Oneshot Genre: General/fluff Length: ~0.7k Contains: Fue admiring his spouse, talk about sea and its depth (not dwelling on it though), just fluffy thoughts, and some teasing remarks

Waves. The smell of fresh sea air as the gentle motion of the ocean just swaying, as if brushing the shore, stood ahead of you. And it was all couple with the sound the water made in its motion. As if a quiet song most couldn’t understand.

At times you wondered if you did either. Perhaps your mother might have. Your father did. You were sure that he did. It was his home, after all. And you... you weren’t quite sure which one you were more, land or sea. Or maybe you were a shore. Something that existed in between. Which was why you were able to spend longer times in the Capitol, land in general, away from bodies of water.

But it didn’t make you appreciate the trips, and the time your husband took off his busy schedule, to bring you here in Raque. To just... admire the waves. And listen to the songs it told.

There was a hand on your shoulder, which made you turn your head to the side, before feeling a sturdy chest pressed against your back.

“Go ahead,” there was a soft encouragement, as if a praise, spoken as a whisper. “I know you want to,” he told you with the slightest hints of amusement before placing a kiss to your temple.

You glanced at him, your lips tugged up into a grin, and saw him with a gentle smile on his face. The very same understanding, loving smile that you had fallen for way back when. The very same smile that still lingered as you ran to the ocean, as your legs were replaced with a tail, and the taste of air was changed to the taste of sea water as gills took charge.

You knew he was watching, silently, while wearing that smile.

But what you didn’t realize, was him watching your scales glimmer in the light of the sun. The ethereal beauty of them just glistening amidst the waves that would bend to your will.

Sure, someone might have wondered why, or how, a fire made with a heart that was as passionate as a roaring flame, would have fallen in love with someone that held water magic, was calm and gentle as a pond.

Only that the idea of you being “like a pond” was very much not true. And whenever someone implied of such a thing, he found it to be nothing but amusing misguidedness. Because, sure, you held the serenity of a calm lake, or the sea on a day that the winds chose not to sway the surface of it. But... beneath the ocean surface the tides would always sway, there would be the roar of the ocean, the strength and the power those who travelled the seas would know to respect.

He didn’t think that he had been mindful enough of the fact, just how deep the oceans could be before.

But now he was.

And he knew that you could handle yourself. That you could stand your ground, if need be.

If need be. He just didn’t want there to be such. Which was why he worried.

He worried even if he watched you play in the water as the sun glided from your scales.

Perhaps one might have stated that he was very much like that himself, someone who seemed calm and collected on the surface, but was strong and held fury in his heart. That both of you held depths within yourselves.

Maybe you were both aware of it on some level, and maybe that was the very thing that had drawn you too together. Not the superficial differences, but the deep, strong similarities. How your hearts sang together.

He might tease you for being his siren, and you’d groan because you weren’t a siren, but coming from him, it was different. He meant it with all the love in the world. And he was your hot-headed fireball. Though he very much prided himself in being able to stay calm.

The loving teasing that you both did. Because you understood each other.

[yellow-pikmin-with-adhd]

let me expand on the idea now that I have time. So, Gadget the Werewolf and Infinite the Jackal-Vampire. Gadget wants to move to a different city/town, maybe due to some freak accident or people are straight hating because he's a Werewolf, so when he's trying to find a good town to settle in and he eventually stumbles on "Sunset Heights" which has a curfew "due to Vampire attacks," so Gadget decides to move there because the only people that could be outside after nightfall are immortal things he physically can't kill! Its perfect! (Gadget isn't "pure of heart" like Sonic so it stands to reason he may not be as tame) Meanwhile in Sunset Heights the Jackal Squad are trying to be all imposing (the only one that can pull it off is Infinite) they say stuff like "we run this town" (in reality they're the local punk gang, graffiti included, half the towns people think they're innocent misguided kids, and to be fair two of them are kids but still (think the movie Lost Boys but the Vampires aren't actually evil or anything, they're just trying to survive)) Shadow doesn't kill his family here. So eventually Gadget finally starts going outside at night and eventually runs into the Jackal squad or maybe just one of the youngest members and befriends them, Infinite doesn't like this (he thinks the Werewolf is a threat to his family) and starts genuinely trying to kill Gadget, Infinite gets his ass beat (maybe really bad, I'm talking the only reason he lived is because you need sunlight or holy objects to kill him (or a peice of wood)) Gadget feels really bad even if the reason he came here was this exact reason (if he lost control the victim wouldn't die because: immortal Vampire) Gadget, in all his kind heartedness takes the mutilated Jackal-Vampire to his home (he literally invites a Vampire into his home) he is a lovable idiot and Infinite realizes this, the Jackal begins to grow a crush on the Wolf during his recovery. Slowly Gadget shows more and more trust to Infinite (EX: let's him drink a lil blood in his Werewolf form) eventually Infinite heals from what would have been certain death for a normal Mobian and reunites with the Jackal Squad, Gadget becomes an honorary member and sets them on a better path, to the point the towns people are comfortable being alone outside at midnight. Maybe the youngest in the Jackal squad start getting taught by not only Gadget (cuz nerd) but also some teachers who volunteered to help, basically the squad becomes a part of the community (though the awake hours don't always line up for the town and the squad) and that's about all I could think about... I feel like I'm under using the fact Gadget is a Werewolf. If someone could write something like this (but better) I'm in your debt. I made a tag for this AU as well, it's (Rival Myths AU) Also before I forget, this was inspired by a post that had a Werebeast Infinite and a normal Gadget, I was like: But Gadget could be a literal WereWOLF? So credits to that person.

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) it is very easy to incorrectly assume that giselle doesn't care outside of herself, particularly when she's small. kids are jerks sometimes, they think they're the only person to matter, that's just how it is and even house accepted that his kid's probably gonna get some asshole behavior from him anyway and doesn't make excuses for her. "of course she's selfish, she's three." etc

and it's not like she's particularly expressive. her default expression is analytical, she's utterly content by herself with a modest little assortment of toys she decides are Today's Toys while the rest are ignored + her little whiteboard that never leaves her side when in the diagnostics office.

then there's a bad pain day. house is at his desk, craving vicodin that he's starting to think he may always struggle with (he's an addict, obviously. but now that he has a pup, he's starting to reassess his stance on him having a problem, too) and giselle is sat at his feet, leaning against his good leg. he pages kutner to collect her -- thirteen and chase are busy doing their jobs and wilson is in a meeting -- and make him play funny babysitter so his kid doesn't have to watch one of her parents deteriorate waiting for his not-good-enough drugs to kick in.

but when kutner reaches for her, she bites him. not a corrective nip like she has before but an actual growl and bite. it's more startling than anything. and while kutner and house are both reeling, giselle scrambles to sit securely between house's legs, back straight, her little baby growls as steadfast as she can manage it, and dark eyes narrowed up at kutner in challenge. he figures out what's up with the sudden behavioral change before house does, mostly because the pain is making it hard for him to think so all he was really doing was blinking down at her in abject wonder anyway.

"i think she's...... trying to protect you."

on instinct, house trills down at her as if to ask if that's true or not, but giselle has tuned them out. now he can see, though, that in moving, she's put herself between kutner and house's bad leg. it throws his hindbrain off, too, since... he's the parent. he's supposed to protect her, not the other way around. not like he can hide the fact that he's very much physically disabled and is constantly in pain, but still he feels like he's failed her if he inspires her instincts enough to put herself in theoretical danger for him.

and kutner proves once again to be smarter than house gives him credit for, because he goes on. "that's not really a bad thing. she loves you and is still too young to realize she's not invincible so if she sees you're having a hard time, it's totally reasonable for her to fend off any perceived threat. like someone outside of the realm of 'family' or 'pack'."

"what were you doing when i paged you?" house asks after letting that perspective Sink In for a second.

"clinic duty?"

"yeah, go back to doing that."

"you sure? 'cuz i don't mind the biting, she didn't even break the skin--"

"go."

one of the hands house had been using to grasp at his thigh starts combing through giselle's curls, idly noting in the back of his mind that she's due for a trim soon. she relaxes a bit, back to silence now that kutner's gone again. he pretends the tears trying to roll down his cheeks are of relief now that his leg pain miraculously dampens to a manageable level. "protect me, huh?" she doesn't respond, only leans into his hand like a cat. "you... really are your abba's daughter, aren't you?"

[skullytotheark]

Hi Hi!

I don't usually share my art here BUT lately i've been growing more comfortable w/ ppl seeing my art [as u can tell w/ latest creepyhornets entry]

So I wanted to share My some drawings i did for my fanfic series!

Click more for Art!

[i have alot of readmores on my post so i can navigate my account easier LOL]

Tobias Rogers / "The Colorado Axeman"

Age: 19 [current/present age in fanfic]

As you may remember from the last time i shared his design, His jacket is heavily inspired by the reboot buttt I did eventually change it to better fit his 'colour pallet' [or colours i associate toby with heavily]. Now having a slight 'foresty' colour pallet associated with him in this canon

Lore:

At this stage Toby is struggling alot w/ his own thoughts on Slender to the point he regrets Becoming a proxy in the first place. After returning to his old burnt down house Toby finds a old metal box that contained his sister's jacket. To this day Toby wears the jacket as asort of comfort and kinda like a pass me down jacket as memories of once were begin to haunt him, Along with 'unsuspected guests"

Age 16 / year one proxy: [Past Toby]

For a very good while i've been struggling w/ a 'year one' toby design but within time the og hoodie grew on me, So i gave him the og hoodie but I removed the blue hood. As you may know, Toby was much younger when he became a proxy in my au. Spending most of his time homeschooled within a tense household

Lore:

At this stage Toby had just killed his father and narrowly escaped, Unknowing hypnotized Toby believes that he owes Slender his LIFE to the point he's willing to serve Slender with every order.

Chernabog / 'Eyeless Jack'

Ever since Chernabog joined Slender as a proxy or servants of sorts. Chernabog or better known as eyeless jack dawns a somewhat iconic / original inspired design. A black jumpsuit along with a balaclava underneath his iconic mask [also i'm still VERY new to drawing plus size characters [im also kinda proud how it came out] and kinda hc him to be slighty plus size. Mostly cuz i wanted him to have a unique silhouette comapired to other characters. That and I also think it'd add to intimidation if you just see this 6'7 silhouette in the darkness watching you]

Lore:

Some time after agreeing to work for the Operator / Slenderman, Chernabog better known as Eyeless Jack. Roams inbetween towns collecting fresh meat not only for the Operator but for himself with his new boss's permission.

I know you've probably seen this but I really like how this came out for being a slightly rushed doodle, Featuring The Operator and my Oc Grimace! Grimace has his own little entry into my fanfic series and will have entries featuring him every now and then!

The Idea for The Operator's design in my au is kinda to be more tree like! In this image the tentacles Slender is known for comes from the roots at the base of his feet [at his feet?? I mean idk if he has feet or not at this current point. I mean he might] he also appears somewhat statue and organic like, As if a human was kinda made from bark, roots and what not. I also just really love drawing Slender like this it's funny

--

That's all I think i can share for Creepyhornets so far But i've been really happy with how some of these drawings are coming out. I dont say it much but i'm extremely proud of the process i've made with this year even though i only just started spending time on practicing how to draw. If I showed u before & after of my art you'd def see alot of progress

Anyway that's all for this post! I'll try to draw some more creepyhornets related stuff eventually! Hopefully draw more of these two since I'm happy with how they came out with my latest drawings