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[youareunbearable]

Its late and im tired so please excuse if this doesn't make sense but lately, I've been thinking about Angry Aredhel must have been

Like realistically, when has this woman made a single decision about her future for herself, and in the few times when she did, when did it not end in tragedy

She must have been so angry, so frustrated and wrathful at her lot in life. She was meant for other things, greater thing! She was a disciple of Orome, the Maiden in White, one of the best hunters in his group along with her cousin.

Yet here she is, caged and trapped like a pretty little canary in a wire house. Stolen from her purpose because of her eldest brother's blind loyalty, her father's stubborn pride, her second oldest brother's blinding grief, and her baby brother's terminal bravery. She's across an ocean, escaped one cage for another by her tormentor and abuser posing as a husband.

The bastard won't even name their child.

She must have be so angry, stuck in that endless darkness, the forest must be such a familiar landscape but so different, twisted and wrong like looking into a warped mirror.

Shes grieving outside her "home" one night, having managed to convince the trees to part their branches just enough that she can glimpse a star or two so she can bask in the starlight. Its been a year since the birth of her son, and nothing has changed. Eol won't look at the boy, and she can feel herself drifting. Without the ability to see the passage of time, without the Light of the Trees or with the Sun and Moon chasing each other across the sky, things are blending together and she feels adrift.

At least when they crossed they ice, they were able to watch the stars move across the endless dark.

The starlight warms her skin, as weak and distant as it is, so she basks. With her eyes closed and face tilted up she feels like a lizard in the mid day sun. Behind her, she hears a noise, a twig being deliberately stepped upon. Aredhel whips around, raising her glowing lichen lamp, wondering if its her husband or one of his servants come to take her back. She feels a little feral at the idea of being dragged away from the pitiful starlight.

A wolf, with a pelt as crisp and clean as the snow dusting Himring's mountain top, slinks into the soft glow. Its fur takes on an almost sickly colour in the green luminescence. The wolf settles at the edge of the light, resting on its haunches as it observes her.

Aredhel thinks she's beautiful, for it is a female wolf. Even in the weak lamplight the beast's silver eyes seem to glow on their own, piercing her very fea and enticing her to come forward, to come closer. There is a power within the she wolf, one Aredhel craves.

The white beast introduces herself as a member of Orome's hunt, and Aredhel believes it, for the she wolf looks like the perfect hunter. The wolf asks her what she, as a fellow hunter, is doing out so far away from her kin and cub.

Momentarily surprised by the ability to speak, for not even Huan can speak so freely, Aredhel responses. She shares her desire for light, her frustration with her "husband," and how she wants a different life for her son. She never wanted this, and she wishes she had the ability to take control of her own fate.

The wolf is sympathetic to her plights, and offers to help her free herself and her child.

"You do have the ability to change your own fate, young one. Asking for help is something no one else could have done for you."

So Aredhel leads the wolf back to Eol's house. They walk through the entry way, both hunters are silent as the dawn as they go. Aredhel heads towards the master bedroom, but hesitates at the door. She can see Eol on his side of their bed, snoring lightly as he does. She hesitates, seeing a vision of what will happen once he realizes she's gone. Fire, doom and death follows her, poison and a flash of fang would flicker in him before he strikes her down for disobedience, for stealing away the son he won't even name.

The wolf nudges her aside, ghosting past her into the room. Aredhel's throat closes up and she slinks away, heading towards Lomion's nursery. She leaves to go strap her sleeping infant son to her chest, then grabs some supplies from the kitchen in a bag. Not even hearing a mouse skittering in the walls, let alone her wolf companion, she steels her nerves to check the master bedroom one more time.

As she passes her bedroom, she can see through a crack in the door and her breath freezes. Standing over the now corpse of her husband, maw dripping red from the freshly torn out throat, the white wolf looms. Aredhel stares transfixed, she can almost taste the blood between her own teeth, feel the rush of the kill, ache of her gums as tendons and tissue would rub against them. The wolf turns to look at her, silver eyes wild, white fur stained with her kill. Aredhel feels the air return to her lungs, she feels lighter and free, a little giggle slips past her lips and the wolf peels back its lips and bares its dripping fangs in a smile.

Aredhel leaves the house, fleeing on foot and all the while she can hear the wolf following her, keeping pace and shadowing her in the darkness, and at some points, ahead of her, leading her out of the woods. Running like this, oh she hasn't done this in years!. The wind snapping at her hair, branches and leaves kissing her cheeks and arms, the rush of a completed hunt with another one ahead of her feels like her first real breath in a long time. It feels like days later, and seconds, heartbeats, when she can see the treeline, dawn's hazy reddish glow peaking through the trees.

Aredhel gives a joyful cry and runs faster. That laughter bubbling up inside of her finally bursts past her lips once she breaks the treeline. The sun on her skin is warm and bright and all she wants to do is laugh and cry and scream until her throat is raw and her tears run dry. But she has to keep moving, she has Lomion still with her, and she is too close to the woods to feel truly safe yet. She walks north, and east, not really knowing where she's heading but knowing that she'll cross into her cousins' land soon. As she walks, she soon realizes that she hasn't seen or heard from her she wolf in a while. Stopping, Aredhel turns to look back, but no where can she see that brilliant white coat, or any tracks that look like wolf paws. She squint, looking back at the distant treeline and sees nothing but shadow. She mourns for her companion, wishing she could have wished her well or at least thanked her for her help. She wonders if Orome set the wolf to free her, not wanting to see one of his hunters in chains.

Its about mid morning when she comes across some of her cousins men, and they're horrified. They ask if she's ok, of she's hurt, they take her to a nearby stream even though she insists she's fine, that she wants to see her cousins.

When she sees her reflection she's scared for a moment. All she can see it blood, dried and crusted down her throat, staining her lips and chin. There is red all along the collar of her white dress, her sleeves, but her hands are clean, and so is her son still asleep strapped across her chest. She looks into her reflection, not yet comprehending. Silver eyes that seem so familiar stare back above the red, above the proof of her freedom.

She bares her bloody teeth in smile.

[cryptonewspod]

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[alyrasturnz]

can u do bsf!matt hcs but hes in denial and reader is too

FRIENDS

❐ summary » matt and y/n are best friends, their bond forged in the fires of shared laughter and silent understanding. they are both insanely in love with each other, though neither dares to voice their feelings. their hearts dance around the truth, each convinced that the other sees them only as a friend.

❐ pairings » bsf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » they're so painfully oblivious it HURTS

❐ a/n && w/c » this has been rotting and collecting dust in my inbox • 2.0k

┆ bsf!matt who always finds an excuse to be near you, whether it's helping with homework or just hanging out. he insists it's just because you're such a good friend, but everyone else can see the way his eyes linger on you a little too long.

» you’re sitting at the kitchen table, textbooks and notes sprawled out in front of you. the afternoon sun filters through the window, casting a warm, golden glow that dances across the pages. matt sits across from you, ostensibly focused on your notes, but every so often, you catch him stealing glances in your direction, his gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“thanks for helping me with this,” you say, smiling softly, your eyes meeting his briefly before darting back to your notes. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

matt shrugs, a playful grin spreading across his face as he leans back slightly. "what are best friends for, right? besides, you know i'd rather be here than anywhere else."

you laugh, shaking your head as a soft chuckle escapes your lips. "you say that, but i’m pretty sure you’d rather be playing video games.”

he leans in closer, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "nah, i can play video games anytime. hanging out with you is way more fun."

you roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "yeah, right. you just like the free snacks."

matt chuckles, reaching for a chip with a casual grace. "well, the snacks are a bonus. but seriously, i just like being around you. you make everything better."

you glance at him, puzzled, your brow furrowing slightly. "what do you mean?"

he shrugs casually, but his eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary. "just that you're good company. plus, you have a knack for keeping me entertained."

you shake your head slowly, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you allow your gaze to drift back to your notes. "you're weird, matt."

he grins, his eyes softening as they linger on you, a quiet warmth emanating from his gaze. "yeah, but you love me for it."

you don't notice the way his gaze lingers, too absorbed in your work to catch the subtle affection shimmering in his eyes.

┆ bsf!matt who pretends not to notice when your hand brushes against his, yet his heart races every single time. he convinces himself it's just a friendly gesture, even though he secretly wishes you'd hold his hand a bit longer.

» you sit beside matt on the couch, the movie playing softly in the background, casting a gentle glow across the room. as both your hands reach for the popcorn simultaneously, your fingers brush against his, sending a subtle jolt through you. 

you pretend not to notice, your focus returning to the screen. matt, however, feels his heart race, each beat echoing in his chest, though he masterfully maintains a neutral expression, concealing the whirlwind of emotions within.

"oh, sorry,” you murmur softly, withdrawing your hand with a slight, almost imperceptible hesitation.

"it's all good," matt replies with a casual smile, though inside, he battles a longing desire, wishing your hand had lingered just a heartbeat longer, craving the warmth of that fleeting touch.

as the movie continues, you find yourself gravitating closer to him, your shoulders gently brushing against each other. matt's mind becomes a whirlwind, desperately trying to convince himself that it's merely a friendly gesture. yet, with every subtle touch, his heart yearns for more, a silent hope blossoming within him, wondering if you share the same unspoken desire.

┆ bsf!matt who teases you endlessly, making you laugh until your sides hurt. he tells himself it's just for fun, but deep down, he loves seeing you smile and hearing your laughter more than anything else.

» you clutch your sides, gasping for breath as waves of laughter ripple through you. "oh my god, matt, stop! i can't breathe!" you manage to exclaim, your voice breaking with the effort to contain your giggles, each one more uncontrollable than the last.

matt doesn't reply immediately. instead, he leans back, his eyes softening as they linger on you. the playful mischief in his gaze gradually transforms into something gentler, something deeper.

he absorbs the sight of your eyes crinkling at the corners, the way your laughter fills the room like a melody, and he can't help but smile, captivated by the moment.

you finally catch your breath, wiping away a tear that has escaped to the corner of your eye. "you’re really funny,” you confess, a wide smile spreading across your face. 

matt continues to watch you, his expression softening into one of sincere affection. in this moment, words become superfluous. his gaze, filled with unspoken emotions, conveys everything that needs to be said.

┆ bsf!matt who gets protective whenever someone else shows interest in you. he claims it's just because he wants the best for you, but the jealousy in his eyes betrays his true feelings.

» you notice the subtle tightening of matt's jaw, the way his eyes darken, almost imperceptibly, as another person approaches you. it's a fleeting moment, but one that lingers in your mind. later, when the two of you find a quiet moment alone, you can't help but bring it up, the curiosity gnawing at you.

"matt, why do you always get so protective whenever someone shows interest in me?" you ask, a half-smile playing on your lips, your eyes searching his for an answer, the curiosity evident in your voice.

he shrugs, attempting to mask his true feelings with a nonchalant demeanor. "i just want to make sure you're with someone who deserves you," he replies, but the flicker of jealousy in his eyes betrays the deeper emotions he's trying to conceal.

you tilt your head slightly, your eyes narrowing as you study him intently. "are you sure that's all it is?" you ask, your voice tinged with skepticism.

he crosses his arms, a stubborn look settling on his face, as if trying to fortify himself against further probing. "of course, that's all it is. i just don't want you getting hurt," he insists, though the tension in his posture suggests there might be more he's not willing to admit.

you raise an eyebrow, skepticism etched across your face. "it seems like there's more to it than that, matt," you say, your voice gently probing, seeking to unravel the layers of his guarded emotions.

he shakes his head, his expression resolute. "you're reading too much into it. i'm just looking out for you, like always," he declares, though the firmness in his voice does little to mask the underlying tension that betrays his words.

you let out a small sigh, recognizing the immovable resolve in his stance. "okay, if you say so. but you know, you don't have to protect me all the time," you murmur, your voice carrying a blend of resignation and gentle reassurance, hoping to pierce through the armor of his unwavering determination.

he gives you a half-smile, the stubbornness still glinting in his eyes. "someone has to," he replies, his tone firm and unwavering, leaving no room for argument, as if the weight of his unspoken thoughts anchors his resolve.

┆ bsf!matt whose brothers are well aware of his feelings for you, remains obstinately in denial, unable to reconcile with the truth that lingers just beneath the surface.

» nick and chris share a silent exchange, their eyes reflecting a deep understanding as they catch matt's unwavering gaze locked onto you from the far side of the room.

"hey, matt," nick nudges him, his touch a gentle disruption breaking matt's trance-like state. "when are you going to tell her?"

matt's smile wavers, his expression hardening into one of resolute defiance. "tell her what?" he retorts, his voice edged with a defensive sharpness.

chris chuckles softly, a knowing glint in his eyes as he shakes his head with a resigned sigh. "come on, matt. we all know how you feel. it's obvious."

matt's jaw clenches, a flicker of unease crossing his features as his eyes dart away from yours. "there's nothing to tell," he insists, his voice firm yet betraying a hint of uncertainty.

nick and chris exchange a meaningful glance, the tension in the air palpable. "matt's just being stubborn, as usual," chris says, his tone softening with a touch of empathy. "he can't admit what everyone else can see."

matt shoots him a warning look, but chris just shrugs, unfazed by the silent admonition. "it's okay to feel something, you know," he adds, his voice softening with a touch of understanding.

matt looks at you again, his eyes brimming with a tumultuous blend of frustration and longing. "it's not that simple," he mutters, almost as if speaking to himself, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

nick sighs, shaking his head slowly. "one day," he murmurs, almost as if speaking to the wind. "one day he'll get there.”

┆ bsf!matt who stays up late calling you, sharing secrets and dreams. he tells himself it's just because you're his best friend, but he can't help but wonder what it would be like to call you his.

» "remember that time we got lost in the city and ended up at that random street fair?" matt says, his voice filled with amusement, his eyes sparkling with the memory as he leans back, the corners of his mouth curling into a nostalgic smile.

you laugh, the sound bubbling up as the chaotic yet delightful memory floods back. your eyes light up with amusement. "oh my gosh, yes! and you tried to win that giant teddy bear for me but failed miserably."

matt chuckles, a soft sound that reverberates through the room, shaking his head slowly. "hey, i almost had it! that game was rigged, i swear."

your laughter fills the room, a joyous sound that seems to make the walls brighter. matt can't help but smile wider. "yeah, sure, blame the game. but you did end up getting me that funnel cake, so i guess you redeemed yourself."

"funnel cake always saves the day," he replies, his grin widening as if the mere mention of the treat brings back the sweetness of the moment.

as your laughter fills the space, matt falls silent for a moment, simply watching you. the way your eyes crinkle at the corners, the genuine joy illuminating your expression—it makes his heart skip a beat. he's lost in thought, contemplating what it would be like if you were more than just best friends.

but he shakes off the thought, not wanting to tarnish the moment. "you know, i think we should make getting lost a tradition. who knows what other crazy adventures we might stumble upon?"

you nod, still giggling, the sound like a melody. "deal. as long as you promise to keep buying me funnel cake."

"always," matt says, his voice softening as he continues to admire you, his best friend, and perhaps, one day, something more.

┆ bsf!matt who feels a pang of disappointment whenever you mention another guy, but he quickly masks it with a joke. he convinces himself it's just friendly concern, even though his heart aches at the thought of you with someone else.

» as you chat excitedly about a date you had recently, matt's heart tightens with a pang of disappointment, a subtle shadow crossing his features. he forces a smile, masking his true emotions, and quips with a hint of forced levity, "did he at least have a good sense of humor? you know, like me?"

you laugh, completely oblivious to the fleeting shadow that darkens his face. "yeah, he was pretty funny, but no one can out-joke you, matt."

matt chuckles, though his heart aches with an unspoken sorrow. "well, i guess i have to keep my title then. but seriously, i'm glad you had a good time."

he convinces himself it's just friendly concern, even though the thought of you with someone else gnaws at him, leaving an indelible mark on his heart.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Aventurine hc's

At first he hates the realization he's actually falling for someone

It eats away at him every second, this reminder that he's not, and likely never will be, in a great position to just have a normal life...

He's a pawn, always has been, so why would he put someone else through that?

Especially you...

But God if it isn't impossible not to love, to keep his fluttering heart from hoping, yearning for just your warm touch

Just the sight of you is enough, he decides to himself, as if that makes any difference in the end

It's obvious he dotes on you, his teasing remarks and genuine smiles are impossible to miss...

He follows you around in his free time, happily inserting him with a smug little grin, as if it's completely normal to have a IPC executive tailing you constantly

You're entertaining, or that's his excuse

He has to keep you safe, it's not like he trusts any of these other idiots to do it, and getting to watch you huff at him paying for everything is only a bonus

In that stage he enjoys being subtly possessive

You're not his, sure, but seeing you in his hat and sunglasses, or maybe with one of his cute little calling card chips fastened into a necklace, constantly on you...

His arm around your shoulder is enough to denture most people immediately, definitely not looking to get into a scuff with the "loose cannon of a gambler" he's generally seen as

When you're finally together he's not keen on taking his hands off you

Whether it's a light arms around your waist, just securing his spot by your side with an occasional squeeze, or his hand grabbing desperately at your hair as he focuses on pressing a kiss to every inch of your face with steadfast resolve

His favorite thing is just resting his chin on your shoulder, his pretty eyes staring up at yours endlessly

It's the perfect position, of course, arms around you with easy access to your neck, and it usually ends with your face hot to the touch by his intimate little kisses pressed so lovingly to your skin

He does have an appearance to maintain, so self care days where he paints your nails, washes your hair in a joint shower or bath, and drags you out to buy expensive clothes are must

Money is meant to be gambled or spent, it's not for hoarding, and that's abundant obvious by how he throws it around

It's another form of possession, really, seeing you decked out in what he's bought you, it gives him a sense of pride

It's hard for him not to project his childhood fears onto you, too

Like if he notices you're not eating, not drinking enough, brushing off a small injuries

He's seen plenty of people die to all those, and fighting down those blaring alarm bells can be difficult at the best of times

You'll often find a glass of water and small snack with a cute little note when you wake up, if he can't be there himself to make sure your needs are met, and he's expecting a text as soon as you're up to confirm you're fine

Anytime without contact for too long will consume him, gnawing at his insides, eating him slowly until he sees you again

He hates it, it's such a painful disadvantage in his line of work, but god if he can't help it...

He's very quick to scoop you up and pepper kisses to your pulse points immediately after, nuzzling against the physical feeling of your heartbeat and your warmth

He also can't help shaking off the mindset that he's merely a chip, to be used when  useful and discarded after

He knows that's not the case with you, knows it... But it's impossible to not feel a bolt of pure fear when you're unhappy with him, as if his worth is tied to his ability to be perfect for you

Pet names are obviously a must, and you might start to joke he doesn't actually know your real name with how rarely he uses it

You're his "darling love", his "perfect match", and, of course, his "adorable sweetheart"

He'll pout a bit if you don't reciprocate the absurd level of endearments on your end too

He probably won't even respond to "Aventurine" after a while, pretending not to hear you with an unmistakable smile, until you properly address him

He's left wondering how he's ever lived without you, and if he ever could again

[endivinity]

Hey yall!

it's been one of those weeks. a very, very expensive week. my savings will be completely wiped, but I can't open commissions, so it's not looking too hot for me right now. I'm not in any danger of eviction or other major consequences, but I can't front the costs by myself.

If you'd like to help out by chipping in a little bit, I've got the tl;dr over here! https://ko-fi.com/endivinity There's a pack of every public deathclaw artwork available through that as well, if you'd like a bonus incentive.

Long version and plan of attack under the cut!

I've been medically unemployed for a couple of years now. I've also been recently diagnosed with ADHD - inattentive. I was given an initial trial course of meds for them, which so far aren't working in any helpful ways. NZ has free prescriptions... but it does not have free mental health diagnoses, and especially not for adults. The initial diagnosis appointments cost me $1100, and there are at-cost followup appointments and other medical related costs that are chipping away at it. My medication will need reviewing and possibly switching, which requires more at-cost appointments. This was fine for me to pay! But. Miraculously, I barely self-medicated prior to diagnosis but when I did.... it was with sugary foods. I'm sure you can see where this ends up :'D

The other day I got hit with a dental bill that was not only staggering, but the treatment itself was a gutpunch. I'm not quite at root canal level but two of my teeth are tending towards it, even as the dentist commended my brushing and flossing. The quote is between $3200-4000 (give or take a couple non-priority preventative treatments). I can get government funding assistance up to $1000, and anything beyond that is a loan.

And unrelated I NEED new glasses, because the vision in my left eye from uveitis has deteriorated significantly. this costs less at i think $200-300, but the government does NOT assist with this for... some reason??

The plan of attack:

I'd - hoped, that the meds would let me focus more on owed work. I'd hoped I'd be able to clear the board. That's not the case right now. I'll keep trying, but for now I have to focus on the present.

So, the Ko-fi page is open! There's PWYW files of every deathclaw art I have, so if you'd like to help me out and get convenient lizards instead of browsing my posts, that's the option for you. I will also be making deathclaw designs to auction. I'd like to do customs in future because there's a hungry hungry market out there, waiting for me to do so, but that'd be a commission and I wouldn't complete it. So, premades it will be. My Inprnt store is currently barren; I will see about getting it filled. That'll be linked later. I can't mail out my print stock I use for cons, because I don't have a car or easy access to shipping packaging for larger prints. (And shipping would be immense because, NZ)

So far those are my only attainable options. If you have other suggestions though, please let me know! <3

[flamingpudding]

I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.

I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)

But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.

Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.

RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.

Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.

So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.

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

The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.

The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.

"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.

"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.

"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.

"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.

"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."

The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?

"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!

"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.

Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"

They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,

Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?

"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."

Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."

The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."

That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"

Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"

They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.

By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.

Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.

Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.

Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.

"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.

"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.

"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."

"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."

"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"

Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."

The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."

Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.

Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....

Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.

A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.

[seat-safety-switch]

At the grocery store, they have Coke-flavoured Oreos, and Oreo-flavoured Coke. This cross-pollination of brands has gone too far. Even though the pious talking-heads at CNN call me a brand-mixing bigot, I just want to eat one food product at a time.

A couple years ago, when I worked in the food industry, we talked about stuff like this. We dreaded stuff like this. Someone's CEO's toddler would get a little froggy and decide to ask for a peanut-butter-and-Cool-Ranch-Doritos sandwich for breakfast.

Turns out that flavour combination is shockingly good, at least the first time you eat it. The CEO would rush it into production, damn the torpedoes, and take a huge bath on the fact that nobody wanted to eat two of them. Who felt the consequences of that loss? Us little folks, who would be rewarded with a much smaller bonus cheque in exchange for our sorcery in the fields of making food that should not have been made.

It gets even worse when two big brands collide. Suddenly you've got twice as many CEOs getting their egos caught up in the whole deal. Who comes first on the label? Maybe both of us release our own crazy product, build hype for the other guy's project. I'm here to tell you that it all ends in tears, just like that one summer vacation where you hung out with your buddy every day, until you were suddenly no longer buddies anymore. Except that it cost half a billion dollars for you to be buddies, and the grocery stores are tired of having to throw out unsold Rainbow Chips Ahoy bologna every week.

Here's my advice to the food people. Don't try to make new things. Instead, sell us the same old things, but make them either smaller or larger. Who wouldn't want to eat an Oreo the size of their head? Or a very tiny scale model of a pizza bagel? It's stuff we already like, but it seems like we're standing closer or farther away from it. The ape brain reels at this concept, which translates into spending money to resolve the discomfort.

That one's free. The next time you assholes come over here asking for product advice, it's going to cost you: I will insist that you bring back taco-flavoured ice cream.

[avatar-anna]

Picnic

Part of the florist!reader universe: part one, part two, bonus

You looked down at the sleeping form in your lap, fingers tracing delicately over sun-warmed skin. Harry’s eyes were closed, his long hair curling around his cheeks and temples. This close to him, you could see the eyeliner from last night he still hadn’t managed to wipe off smudged around his eyes. He looked calm, peaceful. So unlike the broody rock singer you’d come to know.

It came as a surprise to you when Harry fell asleep on your lap. Today was the first time in a while where you and Harry were able to spend some time alone together. Between your busy schedules and him having to care for his goddaughter often, there wasn’t much time left for just the two of you. You didn’t mind, of course, you loved spending time with Lucy and seeing Harry perform at his gigs, but you liked these stolen moments too.

And Harry could be so private sometimes, so quiet about his feelings. You knew he never meant anything by it, but he definitely held back when it came to physical affection. You respected his boundaries when it came to affection, but it was nice to see him take initiative, to know he felt comfortable enough to rest his head in your lap and sleep for a while.

You invited Harry to your little cottage for a midday picnic. He’d been busier lately, writing new music and taking care of Lucy, so you thought it would be a good idea to do something stress-free and simple—a small picnic in the field behind your house. You set up your soft blanket—the one you crocheted a couple years ago—under a tree, not wanting to completely bake under the sun. There was fresh bread, cheese, juice, and chocolates packed up in your basket to snack on; you used to picnic by yourself often, but you could get used to having company under the tree behind your house.

Ever so delicately, the pads of your fingers traced the angular planes of your boyfriend’s face—the bridge of his nose, his sharp cheekbones, all the way up to his hair so you could run your fingers through it. It was soft and silky, a sign that he took good care of it. Harry’s music and stage presence was on the grungier side with his chipped nails, ripped jeans and smudgy eyeliner, but he had very good hygiene. He even had his own detailed skincare routine (though you were pretty sure that his goddaughter was behind that).

Harry’s chest rose and fell heavily as he continued dozing, his nose slightly pinched with red from being in the sun for a couple hours. He looked so serene. Like an angel, you thought. Sun-dappled skin, a smattering of freckles, and eyelashes that curled perfectly and graced the tops of his cheekbones. Leaning down, you pecked Harry’s forehead, his skin warm. Your thumb brushed over the spot you kissed affectionately.

You left Harry alone for a while, reaching for the book you brought and read it as your hand continued to card through his hair. It was the perfect moment, and you weren’t sure it couldn’t get any better.

As you read, however, you spotted the small bouquet of wildflowers you picked as you and Harry walked out to this spot. Unable to help yourself, you set your book down and nabbed a couple flowers. You pulled off the stems one by one, nestling them into Harry’s hair as he continued to sleep, completely unaware.

By the time Harry blinked his eyes open, little wild daisies covered his hair. He squinted up at you, eyes still bleary with sleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said.

Harry’s nose scrunched up. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Maybe an hour?”

“Oh. Sorry. Was supposed to spend the afternoon with you,” he said. He began to sit up, but before he could, you put a gentle hand on his chest.

“Wait! You look so cute, let me take a picture,” you said, quickly looking around for your phone.

Harry grumbled, but stayed put like you asked. You were pretty sure he was saying something about not being cute, but the way he rubbed at his eyes made you want to pinch his cheek.

Not wanting to move him quite yet, but also wanting to be closer to him, you set your phone down. Harry met your gaze curiously, patiently waiting for you to speak. He did that often, letting a comfortable silence grow between you until you gathered your thoughts enough to say what was on your mind. And when you did, he mostly just listened, though you never got the feeling that he was ignoring you. “Sorry, you don’t have to listen to me ramble,” you found yourself saying once. But Harry simply shook his head, a small smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologize. I like listening to you.” And that was that.

“Can I join you?” you eventually asked him.

“Course. You don’t have to ask.”

Grinning, you shuffled until you were laying beside him on the blanket. You rested your cheek against his chest, which was warm from being in the sun for so long. You weren’t sure how he was able to stand the heat in all black, but you rarely saw Harry in anything else. It was always funny to you because he came off so cold and grumpy, but he was the biggest softie there was. He might’ve had tattoos running up and down his arms and on his neck, and his nails might have been painted black, but only because his goddaughter painted them while they played “spa.”

Your hand reached below his shirt, running the pads of your fingers along his skin gently. Harry’s stomach tensed beneath your fingers, but only a little. He hummed and settled deeper into the blanket, almost leaning into your touch. Scooting up until your face was in the crook of his neck, you began to pepper his skin with kisses. Your lips sponged against his skin gently; no nipping or pressing particularly hard, you just wanted to feel him.

“This is nice,” Harry murmured, his hand coming up to rub your back gently.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” you replied, not moving away from him.

“Try me.”

You took your time answering, preferring to just kiss his neck some more. From the curve of his jaw all the way down to the base of his throat, you kissed him, smiling when his breath hitched in certain places. Stoic as he was, you’d come to learn all of the little places that made Harry gasp and groan and arch. It was a treasure hunt you were happy to go on.

“Sometimes I just want to kiss you. Like all over. And I don’t necessarily want anything out of it, I just…want to kiss you until I can’t breathe. Is that weird?”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” he said. His eyes were closed as he spoke, but he suddenly tilted his head toward you, and you found yourself staring right into his eyes. His gaze was still a little sleepy, though they squinted the tiniest bit with mischief. “There are parts of me that are feeling a little left out, though.”

Harry ran a hand through your hair, his lips curving up into a smile as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You knew that look. It was the one that always made you feel like you and Harry were on an even playing field. You were definitely more expressive than he was, which meant you vocalized and showed how much you liked him more than he did. You knew he cared for you, he just expressed himself differently than you did, which you were fine with. Harry often cooked for you, he always held your hand if you were on a date, he texted you first thing in the morning and right before you went to sleep—even when you had just been on the phone with him for hours—because you mentioned that your last boyfriend never did, and one time you caught a glimpse of his phone and saw that there were three heart emojis next to your name, even though you knew he didn't really use or like them.

But it was this look, the one he made just before he was about to kiss you, that brought you the most peace of mind, except for the excitement at what a kiss from Harry might lead to. To you, that look said it all. You felt it right down to your toes. I’m so in love with you, he seemed to say. At least that was how you interpreted it. You hoped that was how he read the look on your face.

Harry leaned in, and you were right there to meet him. His curly hair tickled your nose and chin, but the sensation was nothing compared to how his lips felt on yours. Kissing him felt like magic, like the first day of spring. It was true that Harry didn’t always express how he felt about you verbally, but when he kissed you, there was no doubt in your mind. He kissed you like he was desperate or starving, like the rest of the world fell away and you were the only two beings to ever exist. His hand gathered the material of your dress, bunching it at your hip in a tight grip, his tongue caressing your lower lip, eager to feel yours against it. He made you arch into him, wrap your arms around his neck before dipping below his shirt in search of warm skin.

After a few minutes, Harry tried to pull away, suggesting that the two of you head back to your cottage, but you clung to him even tighter, kissing around his jaw until you found the spot that always turned him to mush and sucking on it.

“No? You want me right here?” he asked, his eyes closed as you continued to nip and suck all over his neck. Your lack of response was answer enough for him. Grinning, you pulled him back down over you, and Harry was more than happy to oblige.

[miss-musings]

A TBB Mini-Meta: Crosshair's Two Sides

This is a quick observation combining some of my own previous thoughts and a few that @yavln4 and other folks have discussed.

While it's not quite to the level of Harvey Dent/Two-Face from the Batman franchise, Crosshair has two distinct sides to him. I mean that more so in a physical sense, but I think there's something to be said about the emotional aspect as well.

Crosshair's right side represents who he is as a soldier and sniper.

Everything that serves as a physical reminder of his time in the Grand Army of the Republic and/or Empire is on his right side: His tattoo, the burn scar on his head, and his shaking/missing hand.

Additionally, the inhibitor chip was embedded on the right side of Crosshair's and the other clones' heads.

His right eye is also the one he primarily uses to aim. His viewfinder is on the right side of his helmet, which has zoom and infrared capabilities, and when he looks through a scope, he does so with his right eye.

I'm sure you all know exactly what I'm talking about but here are a few visual reminders:

Now, his left side represents Crosshair as a person -- specifically, as a brother and dad.

It is the side of him that is completely unmarred: No scar, no tattoo, no missing hand. It's his "normal" side, so to speak.

In general, a person's left side is traditionally associated with the heart (ie, wedding rings, etc.).

Crosshair also keeps his sidearm on his left side, which makes sense because he normally has his rifle in his right hand. I only mention this because he uses his left hand to kill Nolan in 2.12 "The Outpost," which becomes a HUGE turning point for him.

Additionally, when he collapses after shooting Nolan, he falls unconscious with his left side facing upwards. As someone else pointed out (I'm not sure who, but if I find the post I'll add the source and link here), this suggests that Crosshair has been "reborn." He's rejected being a soldier and is instead becoming his own person again.

Also, as I've pointed out before, his left side tends to be associated with Omega and/or Hunter.

Of course, Crosshair uses his left hand to save Omega from Hemlock in the finale.

In several key scenes throughout the show, Omega and/or Hunter are on his left side. Examples include but aren't limited to:

Omega talking to Crosshair in the brig in 1.01 "Aftermath"

Omega talking to Crosshair while they're trapped in Nala Se's lab in 1.16 "Kamino Lost"

Omega finding him unconscious on Tantiss at the end of 2.16 "Plan 99"

The family meeting scene at Shep's in 3.05 "The Return"

Crosshair and Hunter reaching an understanding immediately after facing the Ice Wyrm in 3.05 "The Return"

Crosshair and Hunter talking to Ventress at the end of 3.09 "The Harbinger"

Crosshair and Hunter facing down Hemlock as he holds Omega captive in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

The group hug in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

BONUS: Hunter is also to Crosshair's immediate left when Echo joins CF99 in TCW 7.04

Essentially, in S1, Crosshair's "two sides" were in conflict with each other. Initially, it was because of the inhibitor chip. However, once he regains his free will, he doesn't want to give up the life of a solider/sniper.

As much as he loves his family, in 1.16 "Kamino Lost," he ultimately chooses his identity as a soldier versus his identity as a brother.

I think that's why, when he shoots Nolan and collapses in 2.12 "The Outpost," it's significant that it's his left hand and left side that's given importance. He's finally choosing to be his own person again. He's rejecting his identity as a soldier.

Unfortunately, that choice is short-lived, as he is imprisoned at Tantiss for half a year. There, he's subjected to Hemlock's "re-education" efforts and develops a tremor in his right hand.

But, even after escaping and reconciling with his brothers, he can't completely let go of his identity as a soldier and sniper. Unfortunately, his fight isn't over yet. The Empire is still after Omega, and as long as they are, Crosshair's family won't be safe.

So, he continues to fight -- to be a soldier -- but for his family's sake this time.

It's not until CX-2 cuts off his hand in 3.15 that, in a sense, he's freed of that identity. I mean, what good is a sniper without his shooting hand?

As @yavln4 summarized nicely on my "Was there a better way to handle Crosshair's hand tremors?" post:

IMO, his hand doesn't represent his PTSD - it represents his identity as a soldier. It's more important to him than family in s1 due to reconditioning- it wavers after he loses Mayday- and it's completely severed from him before he finally rescues Omega. He goes into that final conflict not as a soldier, but as a parent.

It's only once Hemlock and Tantiss are subsequently destroyed that he's finally free to be his own person. Now, he can focus on just being a brother and a dad, and not have to worry about being a soldier again.

Of course, he'll never be able to erase he who was and the choices he made. His right side still remains -- his tattoo, his scar, his missing hand. And that part of him will be useful if he ever chooses to fight again.

But, he can be reborn. He can choose another path, another life.

His right side represents who he once was, who he was created and born to be. His destiny and his purpose.

But, his left side represents who he is now, who he chose to be and how he wants to live. His future and his freedom.

Crosshair might've been "born" on his right side, but he chose to live on his left.

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Silco HCs

CW: Intimidation, kidnapping, manipulation, guilt tripping, gaslighting, and whatnot. Somewhat proof read :P

A/n: Soft yandere Silco?? He's desperate for human connection. Not much to say. Silco brain damage XD

Possessive, dominate, and manipulative

The smoothest manipulator you will ever encounter. He is brutal- Cruel with his ways of keeping you around his thin fingers. Just before you break, Silco knows exactly how to let you down easy with his iron grip.

"Aw, don't cry dear. You know I only do what is best for you. If you really think this is so bad, then go ahead and venture out into the lanes. Taint yourself in the thick air, polluted waters, the violence of whom i cannot control. I do think you rather not return to those conditions, no?"

Silco falls for you when you show your strengths and weaknesses. There's no facade or display when it comes to the thought of you. It's simply just the feeling your omit from your presence that softens his cold heart.

Would not dare to court you directly. Especially if you're from Zuan. He would show you his affections through messing with the stresses of your life. Money running thin? Oh why don't you look at that? An "old friend" sent you some cash. Job sucks? A business scout invites you to work at a larger company while you're doing errands.

If you're from Piltover, then he will try his best to fuck your life over. You seem to be pretty well off, so there isn't much fixing to do from afar. You will be stalked by his best, followed late at night, subtly threatened by a few strangers on the street, the ones close to you will leave and not say why, and so much more. Though, they will never be enough for you to take real legal action. Silco will chip away at you bit by bit, so when he finally has his grasp on you, it will be more of him "saving you" rather than kidnapping you.

Sometimes he visits your home and rummages through your stuff personally. Looks through photo albums, digital devices, inventory of food and whatnot, and clothing articles. His favorite thing to do is to lay in your bed- hug your messy blankets and lay in your scent. It's a drastic difference from his smoking habits. Cigars are so expensive, but intruding your home and melting in your presence is free.

Breaths in and out like he's on a machine. Like if he DOES NOT repeat the cycle of oxygen and carbon dioxide, he will fucking perish. Silco has been so deattached from love and physical touch, that this is his best replacement.

Would never admit doing this. He makes sure Sevika is guarding the front door at all times. One, to make sure you dont come home unexpectedly, and two, so that she doesn't know more than she needs to.

Bonus points if you can sway Jinx. Whether it be you talked her down during one of her fantastical massacres, or you happen to simply run into the time bomb of a girl- If she likes you, you're officially on his roster forever. No take backs.

When he takes you, it's slow and thorough. Most likely when you're peacefully asleep and somewhat unaware- a syringe is injected and you're relocated.

Silco keeps you in a select few locations in Zaun. Despite his access to luxury, he wants to remind you of what situation you're in. He will take care of you, but he will not coddle you.

Silco is an older man, so puppy love isn't much of a thing for him. By the way he creeps around your shit, you'd think he gets flustered just by the mention of your name, but no. He screams on the inside but is easily composed on the outside. Years of the undercity does that to a person you know?

But when he's angry? Oh when he's upset, he's goes off the rails. Usually, the origin of Silco's rages can be traced back to either your disrespect, or his thinning patience. He gets a bit physical and guilt trips the hell out of you. Grabs your face and pushes you down; Making you focus on how badly you fucked up.

"Do you think I enjoy you screaming at me? Through all those difficult times, I've been the one to have your back. From rent to keeping those who wanted nothing but to take advantage of you away- I've only cared for you. If it were up to them, they would've sold you out for just a vile of Shimmer! But me? No, no I would never would give you up for anything. Because I love you. I adore you Y/n. I do this not for my own gain, but because you deserve to be happy. Don't be fooled love..."

He would rather keep you away from his work. He wants to fall into your arms after a long day in the office and or running around trying to find Jinx. Silco doesn't need you to question his authority as future ruler of Zaun. He already deals with that from ungrateful underlings. He doesn't need that from you either.

Definition of touchy. Has a bad habit of invading your personal space out of nowhere and demanding your time of day. His favorite act of affection is holding and taking you in as you two stand. It's mighty awkward, but Silco thinks it's nice. Cuddling makes him feel too vulnerable and kind of childish, so this gives him somewhat of a limit.

Kiss him on the disfigured side of his face and he'll get sentimental. He won't cry much- maybe let a tear run down when you're not looking. He cherishes you so much despite his actions sometimes saying otherwise.

Silco doesn't feel ugly or extremely insecure because of the disfigurement. Rather he feels changed because of it. As he said, "I let a weak man die that day." Through years of living under the grime and corruption of Zaun, he's come to accept things as they are.

He does not give two shits what you do. As long as you don't die, run away, or mess with his plans, go at it. Obviously there is a limit to things, (Such as no explosives or Jinx-like foolery) but everything you used to do in your normal life is available. Other than being an independent person that is.

Silco doesn't stress too much if you run away. As long as you're in Zaun or Piltover, you will never really leave his grasp.

Being on the run in Zaun is some shoulder deep shit. He has eyes everywhere, so getting an update of your recapture isn't much but of an hour behind schedule.

If you somehow get to Piltover, he'll push everything and everyone out of the way to recapture you. Marcus better hope you're taken back soon. If not, Silco will have near impossible demands for him to carry out. Fuck the council, and fuck the citizens of Piltover. Silco cannot rest until you're dragged back down into the murky waters of Zaun and be drowned for your crimes against his heart.

But if you really aren't giving into things over a certain period of time, Silco will be forced to dispose of you. It's not you, it's him. He would crawl to the ends of the Earth for you, but the combination of his feelings and your blatant displeasure is just too much. He cannot falter- He will not wither because of something he foolishly called "love". So when he decides to get rid of you, he will come and do it personally. Cut off a weak part of him just as he did before.

[theminecraftbee]

so, first, accountability statement: I plan on trying to finish the “zedaph steals a baby” fic by the end of the month and god is that one-line summary no longer accurate but we’re sticking to it, said here publicly so now I have to do it. obviously I also have recursive exchange and the writing I have for hotguy comics zine, but I am not SUPER worried about either of those time/inspiration-wise at the moment and also for Reasons I know it won’t be long until I have more free writing time after that, SO.

various items that are on my potential writing docket, I am curious which of these appeal most:

I dust off the supervillain support group au. two ways this could go: I chip away at the second arc of my original outline and acknowledge this will be like a 300k fic I’m not ready to feel “done” with or “ready to post” with for ages, or I re-work it into something a little more doable and less ambitious keeping the same premise (ren runs a support group for supervillains, doc pov as he starts to heal and redeem himself). this MAY honestly be a target for “if I don’t hate the first 50k on re-reading it and I can actually make my brain write the second arc, do a slower release schedule and then start releasing chapters before I’m done writing”? but this ALSO runs the risk of “I stopped writing it, which is often a sign I was having trouble writing it”.

pearl monster au, which has been cooking in my head for a long while. the basic premise is “one day, pearl, with no memory of how or why this happened, wakes up in a facility as a monster and must try to figure out how she got there, escape, and find her way home, even knowing she may be irrevocably changed”. now with bonus season 10 fish flavor to add to this creature design I’ve been iterating on in my head for forever! this one is ALSO an experiment for me in “can I write a fic where I can’t write dialogue for basically the entire first act”, which would be interesting to see from me, you know?

the related “bigb folklore au”, where after secret life bigb is woken up by Cat and Dog by the tracks of the King Snake, which bigb can recognize as the railroad track, and decides to journey down the railroad to see if he can figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to do video review of life series bigb for this one. this is my excuse to get Weird and Metaphorical and also assign everyone to various animals for no reason, along with using some very specific aesthetic I have wanted to use for some worldbuilding but hadn’t gotten around to yet in any of my stuff. man walks through the desert with animal, confronts train that might be the watchers, might be death, and might just be a train. also, realizes that “confront” is the operative word there and has to deal with that. you know how it is.

““office au””, in air quotes because it’s not REALLY what anyone going to an office au is looking for so much as an excuse to write weird horror. iskall, normal-ish software developer man in a boring office job who does game jams in his free time, goes to work one day to work in his boring downtown office on a payment system for a client. and then things, uh, Take A Turn. this would be a LITTLE me going “what if I wrote an au with a guy who works in tech but like, the boring side of tech I’m in. like, banks and consulting and manufacturing and shit. where you sit in meetings all day and tweak java 8 code even though that language is ten years out of date. but THEN. something exciting happens in the worst way possible.” I’m doing to iskall what I did to mumbo stuffed bird is what I’m saying. it’d be fun.

DO ANY OF THESE PARTICULARLY INTEREST ANYONE. your input will be valued. like 50% chance i get hit with a strong bolt of inspiration then IGNORE that input but it’ll be valued all the same,

[the-apocrypha]

DVD Bonus Features: Fanfic Edition!

I have like 6k of cut scenes from my last fic (the fourth dimension) and many of them were not cut because they were bad, but because they weren't working with the overall story. Seems a shame to let them languish on Google docs. So, for anyone who might be interested - here's two scenes that didn't make the final cut!

<<<>>>

The hourglass is broken. 

The glass is intact, of course, as is the intricate brass housing Dream had spent so many hours bending and curving into symmetrical spirals. It is the spring plate that forms one of the bases—designed to depress slowly as the weight of sand gathers, thereby stretching a miniature steel coil beneath such that it begins to draw back a tiny gilt hammer. When the full weight of sand is upon it, the catch releases, and the hammer strikes the chime. 

Dream had left the mechanism skeletonized, proud of both the ingenuity and the beauty of the gears he had crafted. This is what allows him to see, today, that even though the sand piles upon the spring plate, the hammer remains stationary. The plate is not depressing.

He has migrated to the window for better light and turned the hourglass every which way. The symmetry of the hourglass means that an identical mechanism exists on the other side, for convenient comparison, and it is from this that Dream is hypothesizing that the issue is perhaps with the pinion gear. 

He will not know for certain until he attempts correction. 

And herein lies the problem, for in a masterful stroke of arrogance on his own part: 

The glass is intact. 

His only options now to access the mechanism are to melt the glass, or strategically break it apart, and in either case hope for both minimal damage to the contents and an aesthetically pleasing repair following the—

“What’s wrong, dove?” 

Or rather, what Hob actually says is hǒu is th' problem, culver?, because Dream is standing in the kitchen next to an abandoned bowl of muesli, because it is breakfast, because during breakfast they speak Middle English. Hob is before him, coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other. 

“It’s broken,” Dream replies. Is brokæ.

“It’s nearly eight,” Hob replies, eyebrows up. 

Dream abruptly sets the hourglass down. 

“So you noticed the Astrid Alarm was broken,” Hob says, as Dream swings the freezer door open and starts shifting ice packs and frozen pizzas about. “And then you didn’t set a different alarm. You didn’t eat your breakfast. You didn’t pack your bag.” 

“This is unhelpful.”

Hob goes quiet as Dream frantically stuffs notebooks into his backpack, then a water bottle (too light, probably empty), the peas, headphones, and a sweater from the back of a chair that is likely not his own. Three binder clips go into his pocket. All he needs is—

He turns to find Hob waiting, Dream’s wallet in one hand, sandwich in the other, meat now removed. 

Dream accepts both, and heads for the windowsill. 

“No kiss?” Hob complains.

The broken hourglass, too, goes into his bag. 

Dream doubles back, cups the side of Hob’s face more for the sake of injury prevention than tenderness, and presses a quick kiss of gratitude where it belongs. 

The hand on his wrist stays him. 

Hob’s fingers fall comfortably between the three watch bands that lie there, his thumb over Dream’s pulse point. 

“Tonight, five o’clock,” Hob reminds him. 

Dream holds up his other arm in reply, where a fourth watch glints golden. 

“Ah, perfect,” Hob says, beaming. “Hob Fob to the rescue.” 

It is one of the many great failures of Dream’s life, that this nickname has persisted. 

“Five,” Dream agrees, and pulls his hand free. “You will be wonderful.” 

“Best in my age group,” Hob agrees proudly, and raises his coffee mug just as Dream turns around to make for the door. The mug is a custom job from the internet a few years ago, chipped in both paint and porcelain, but the original black with white lettering can still be read: 

It does not belong to Hob. 

WORLD’S 

LEAST 

PUNCTUAL 

WATCHMAKER 

<<<>>>

(Originally there was an OC named Astrid that Dream would birdwatch with every morning, and Hob had a piano recital in the evening. Obviously these plot points went, and so the breakfast scene had to be rewritten.)

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. 

It cannot feel the sun moving across the sky. It does not know the axis of the Earth, nor the ellipsis of its orbit. It does not reach into the fabric of the universe and pluck divine truth from the red-shift coefficient of the galaxies that hurtle through space as afterthought projectiles of the origin of existence. 

A watch begins with a mainspring—or perhaps a quartz crystal, or microscopic solar panels—but traditionally, a mainspring. This is where the potential energy is stored, to be released as the kinetic energy that will drive the gears to turn the escapement, which is what moves the hands of the watch forward, and would do so without rhythm or reason were it not for the staying hands of the balance wheel. 

The balance wheel is the best part of a watch. The most precise. The most expensive, for the precious gems encrusted upon it that almost entirely eliminate the enemy of constancy: friction. It is what decides the length of a second, for it is what checks the urgency of the marching army of gears that say go go go go go and instead says no. It says, stop. For one thousand milliseconds or one million microseconds or one trillion picoseconds, it holds the entire watch in perfect stillness. 

Then the second hand ticks over. The next interval begins. 

On, and on, and on, and on, it goes. 

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. It is a mindless contraption, a work of metal and stone and glass, and it grinds inexorably forward with a steady tick, tick, tick, tick, tick that may at first listen sound like the drumbeats of progress. But listen closer. Listen carefully. 

It is not a ticking that you hear. It is one small gear, striking back against the machine, protesting, crying out again and again: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

(I liked this little meditation on the nature of watches, but it's a few shades off from my central thesis, and in the end was not needed.)

And that's it! Alas, sometimes good pieces must be sacrificed in the name of a greater project.

[docholligay]

Let's Get Physical: DocDoc's Run Draw

Hi everyone! Since @keyofjetwolf was brave enough to run a 5k, and we all know I really and truly support getting into running and racing and race walking and basically physical activity in general.

I am giving away AN EIGHT DAYS OF CONTENT DAY. This will be done during Eight Days (obviously) and because it's an eight days day, it's 6 hours, and VERY freeform. So, do you want 4 hours of liveblogging, and then a two hour stream? No problem! As always, I have veto power but I'm pretty reasonable I think and I'll work with you to make you happy.

WOW HOLLIGAY, HOW DO I WIN THIS?

You run! You run. If you run a chipped race of 5k or better between June 1st and October 1st, you get an entry. Let's drill down what that means!

A 'chipped race' is a race with an official timekeeping method, that generally uses a chip on the back of your bib for an official time. (For those of you in the Uk and SOME parts of the US but definitely the Uk, parkrun is chipped!! Chipped and fucking free. Bless)

In the US, I really recommend using runsignup to find races near you. In The UK I would use findarace. I haven't found a site I like for Canada.

The entries scale in approximately 5k increments. A 5k is one entry, a 10k is two, half marathon is four, etc.

SUBMISSION PAY ATTENTION HERE:

Once you finish, you will, through most sites, get an email or link that looks very much like this:

There will be the above chip, and then I want anywhere from two lines to as long as you want to go about how the race was. So, for this race chip above: I raced this to get a coupon, and it turned out that I was ineligible anyhow. Annoying, but I was proud of myself for doing better at making like Kate Bush and running up that hill than I ever have. That would be a totally fine entry. Does NOT have to be elaborate.

You will put this IN THE HOLLIGAY'S DUDE RANCH COMMUNITY. If you need to join, just ask me either on this post or in an ask to add you. I would love to have you anyhow! I doubt I will need to but if I need to further verify your participation, I will contact you.

Bonus entries!

No bonuses for speed, that's the EXACT opposite of the environment I am trying to create here. Walk the motherfucker if you want, it's about getting out there! If you're faster than me, i will simply hate you privately.

But! There will be a bonus entry for:

Funniest race summation/review

Best cheerleader (Posting comments on other people's race entries)

Most hilarious/miserable looking race picture (pictures are not required for an entry but very very welcomed)

I reserve the right to give out multiples of these extra entries.

I think that's it! Ask me any questions you'd like, and get out there!

[chokedonaturtle]

my humanized cars headcanons

Cereal Choice Edition

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Strip: he ain’t allowed to eat cereal it makes him hyper. Lynda makes him oatmeal instead and he throws a tantrum every time.

Cal: he ain’t allowed to eat cereal, eats POPS in moderation when supervised (he will eat the entire box)

Lynda: Oatmeal. she don’t really care for cereal.

Tex: Great Value Apple Fritters Cereal (it’s discontinued and he pays $60 on ebay each time he needs another box.) Usually just has Blanton Gold Label for breakfast (it’s whiskey).

Lightning: Cocoa puffs, Reese’s Pieces Cereal, anything incredibly sweet and borderline life threatening. The occasional Cheerio.

Mater: anything you put in front of him. whether or not it’s edible is not important.

Bobby: actually doesn’t like cereal. mostly just doesn’t like milk and won’t eat it dry.

Brick: Frosted Flakes but ONLY the ones that are travel sized. He said they don’t taste the same as the big box. Also says that if they’re bought in the store, they taste different than the ones from the hotel breakfast line.

Sally: Honey Smacks, Choco Chimps. thinks the chimp is cute. drinks a glass of orange juice with her cereal and it drives Lightning insane.

Doc: He’s a doctor and only eats Raisin Bran and Cheerios because sugary cereal is bad for you…………

Cocoa Krispies. he likes when they go *pop pop pop*

Sheriff: he’s a simple man and doesn’t ask for much.

German cereal Vitalis Schoko Müsli Klassisch, Kelloggs ICEE cereal and Peeps cereal. makes Doc cry. who tf introduced him to those.

Sarge: MRE Future Essentials Corn Flakes Cereal #10 Can. man has not shit in six years.

Fillmore: organic gluten free sugar free preservative free strange crunchy objects. no milk.

Flo: prefers granola, mixed with cream and some fruit. makes a bomb parfait.

Ramone: eats whatever Flo is eating. if Flo is not eating he WILL starve.

Red: Honey Nut Cheerios, Apple Jacks….. Gerber snacks for baby. they’re fire and he won’t tell you otherwise.

Lizzie: has literally never heard of cereal, is shocked every time she sees someone eating it. it’s been 40 years of this.

Luigi: Swissli, but hasn’t found a good enough alternative in the US. Cheerios will do.

Guido: Doesn’t care for cereal, makes a real breakfast instead.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

lmk if i forgot anyone i wasn’t looking :p

ta ta !!!

<3

bonus !!

thomasville eats cereal too

Smokey: puts straight granola in milk. adds chocolate chips and maybe some fruit.

River: Honey Bunches of Oats, Honey Nut Cheerios, anything honey flavored

Louise: There’s a discontinued brand of strawberry yogurt Cheerios that she used to love. She swears on her life it existed and the boys like to mess with her and swear otherwise.

Junior: also fucks with Gerber snacks for baby. Prefers apple sauce from the squeeze tube--

is this man an actual child ???

[yelenasdiary]

Omg your requests are open lol

I humbly ask for something adorable and fluffy for BuckyNat x R. Like maybe just some cute domestic activities after the three of them have been super busy and they're finally able to catch up with each other and just be together 💕

Bonus points for including Alpine and Liho

Free Time

Pairing: BuckyNat x Fem! Reader

Summary: After what felt like months, you and your partners finally had a week off from work, allowing you all to enjoy some much-needed quality time. 

Fluff

Warnings: None | 1.1K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I love me some BuckyNat! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy it x

You couldn't help the soft smile that tugged at your lips as you stirred the butter chicken sauce to keep it from burning. You'd been waiting for this night since Fury said that everybody is to take a little break from work to relax and recharge. This meant that you would finally be able to have some much-needed quality with your partners.

Bucky and Nat were doing some last-minute mission reports before clocking off for the week, meaning you had the perfect window to cook them dinner. Cooking was one of your favorite hobbies, you loved cooking for people but mostly you loved cooking for Nat and Bucky. 

Your shared apartment smelled like an Indian restaurant, which only made you even more hungry. Your favorite playlist played softly in the background while you danced around the kitchen, grabbing plates and glasses from the cupboard before setting the table. You couldn't wait for them to come home and be able to enjoy a home cooked meal and a movie on the sofa with Alpine & Liho head butting for pets. 

Nat & Bucky came home just as you had finished dishing up the butter chicken, rice and naan bread as if the smell lured them home to you. "Something smells good detka!" Nat smiled softly before she gently pulled you in for a kiss. Bucky following behind her, "butter chicken? my favourite!" He chipped in, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

"Well, before you even think about sitting at the table, you need a shower! You smell" you chuckled, noticing he was in his gym clothes that had a noticeable sweat stain at his collar. 

"Yes ma'am" he winked before making his way to the bathroom. 

"How was your day?" Natasha asked as she wandered into the living room to kick off her shoes. You placed the dishes on the dining table and took a seat, waiting patiently for your lovers to join you. "It was boring but Alpine, Liho and I had a pretty fun game of laser!" You replied.

“Ah, that would explain why they’re basically passed out” Nat chuckled lightly. 

After a dinner full of conversations and laughs, you and Nat allowed Bucky to pick the first movie. It was no surprise that he had picked The Godfather. You sat between Nat and Bucky, Nat rested her head on your shoulder while Bucky wrapped an arm around the two of you and soon enough, Alphine and Liho woke up, jumping up onto the sofa to be sure they wouldn’t miss out on any snuggles. 

----

The next morning, Liho woke you by jumping up onto the bed and headbutting you for a morning pet. The bed was empty, making you frown slightly at the loneliness of being in such a big bed by yourself. You gave the cat a good pat before you slipped out of bed and wrapping your night gown around your body. 

“You know, I’m never going to let it down that you burned pancakes” Bucky chuckled as he poured maple syrup over his stack of 4. Hearing his comment to your girlfriend made you smile softly knowing they were still here, “Nat, don’t tell me you actually burned pancakes” you chipped in. 

Natasha playfully rolled her eyes, “it was Alpines fault, she almost knocked the batter over” she said, defending herself. 

“Sure, sure” you teased before taking a seat next to Bucky at the dining table. “Good morning doll, did you enjoy your sleep in?” He asked. “You guys could’ve woke me” you reached for the plate of pancakes. 

“You looked so peaceful though and you did cook the best butter chicken I’ve ever had, take it as my gift to you!” Bucky smiled. 

“Besides, we don’t have any plans until late this afternoon” Nat added, taking a mouthful of pancake. “What plans?” You questioned with a cocked brow. 

“It’s a surprise” Bucky replied. 

“Oh, come on! you know I can’t handle knowing there’s a surprise coming!” 

Both Nat and Bucky chuckled, “and you should know just how much we love to tease you” Nat said. 

After breakfast, the three of you went grocery store. Natasha pushed the cart while Bucky and you ticked items off the shopping list. His hands interlocked with yours as the three of you walked up and down each aisle, “come on baby, tell me what the surprise is” you said in an almost whisper so Nat couldn’t hear. If anybody was easy to break a secret, it was Bucky.

“Sorry, doll, no can do” he smiled before placing a kiss on your temple. You sighed playfully while you racked your brain for any idea of what might be the surprise they’re holding from you. 

“I think that’s everything” Bucky spoke, looking back at Natasha before the three of you headed for the checkout. 

After that, it was a quick drive home to unload and pack away the groceries then back out again for a little late lunch before it was off to the surprise date that Bucky and Nat had in mind for you. Nat gently put a blind fold on you once the car had come to a stop, “guys, I’m nervous!” You said as Bucky took your left hand and Nat took your right, helping to guide you. 

“Just a little longer, I’ll love it!” Bucky’s voice eased your nerves but made you more excited for what was planned. You felt like you were stomping your feet as your lovers led you to a stop eventually, “ready detka?” Nat questioned. 

“Yes!” You replied with excitement. Slowly, Bucky removed your blind fold to reveal a large hot-air balloon in front of you. “Surprise!” Bucky and Nat said in sync. A date on a hot-air balloon had been on your bucket list since you could remember. Your smile grew bigger as you turned to face your lovers. 

“No way!!!” You almost jumped with happiness before hugging them both tightly. 

“Anything for you doll! We’ve had this planned for weeks” Bucky smiled. 

“Are you sure this isn’t because I made you one of your favourite meals?” You joked. Nat lent forward and whispered, “that’s exactly why” she chuckled. 

“I thought so!” 

----

The views from the hot air ballon were better than you could ever image, the wind softly blowing through your hair as while Bucky had his arms wrapped around you, Natasha snapping a phot of the two of you before turning the camera to selfie mode just to capture a photo to add to the photo albums. 

You gently pulled Natasha closer, gently kissing her deeply. “This is beautiful, thank you” you smiled softly, “Like Bucky said detka, anything for you” she smiled softly.

~~~~

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[radiojamming]

PLEASE tell us more about mummy types, i know ice is your fave so feel free to go ham on that but all of them are so interesting to me

drives up in my cozy coupe that has MUMMY MOBILE written in sharpie on the side (ALSO PLEASE EXERCISE CAUTION WHEN LOOKING THESE UP; SOME OF THEM LOOK VERY GNARLY)

ICE/PERMAFROST - If you've followed me for a little while, you probably know more about these than the average fella! These are your Beechey Island Trio, your Ötzi the Iceman. Ice keeps bacteria from turning the body into a smorgabord, thus keeping these people fresh (and fluid-filled) for hundreds to thousands of years. And maybe some day down the line, some nerd finds you and thinks you're beautiful and never shuts up about you.

THE BOG - It's Tumblr. You all know about The Bog. Bog bodies are essentially turned into leather purses by the tannins and the anaerobic qualities of The Bog, sometimes effectively snapshotting their causes of death (usually something violent). Special shoutouts to fan favorites like Tollund Man, Lindow Man/Pete Marsh, Yde Girl, Grauballe Man, and Windeby I. And Hozier, probably.

HOT, DRY DESERT AIR - Think the Atacama Desert, the Mummies of Guanajuato, or your pre-embalming times Egyptians. In fact, it was the natural qualities of desert air that probably tipped the Ancient Egyptians off to the fun and fabulousness of preservation. You dry out to potato chip crispness but lose all the wet bits. Also Anubis is probably repping you.

ARID, COLD MOUNTAIN AIR - Same idea as the desert as far as lack of humidity, but better for your skin. Mountaintop mummies are some of the best preserved in the whole world. La Doncella is a fantastic example, as are the rest of the Children of Llullaillaco or the Cherchen Man and Siberian Ice Maiden. Sometimes this was done on purpose (hi bog bodies), but sometimes people just go up to high altitudes, die, and stay there forever.

HONEY/MELLIFICATION - This one doesn't fit the bill of spontaneous mummification, which is what I study. Honey mummies are made on purpose, allegedly by feeding someone honey until they're dead, and then dunking them in a coffin full of honey for them to steep like tea for the next century or so, then digging them up and making medicine/snacks out of them. Lots of alleged's, but still pretty cool if you're into idk becoming one with the slime.

SALT - Human jerky! Salt does to you what it does to all the other edible meats, of which you're just another brand. Salt sucks all the moisture out and keeps you nice, fresh, and flavorful forever and ever. The Saltmen of Iran are Thee Pinnacle of this type of preservation. Bonus is that you get weirdly sparkly when you're salted like a slug.

SAPONIFICATION - You become soap. Actually, if you want to get technical, you turn into what's called corpse wax (which is a surprisingly badass name for turning into a human candle) or adipocere. Mrs. Ellenbogen of the Mütter Museum is probably the best example of this, but it also happens to, uh, cave divers. Which is another great reason not to go cave diving.

PRISTINE AIR OF A SACRED BUILDING - Catacomb mummies! Incorruptible saints! Sokushinbutsu! If you're stuck in a religious house of worship and it just so happens to have its own little ecosystem (usually pretty dry, probably full of resinous incense), there's a non-zero chance that you'll get preserved very similarly to the mountain mummies. Getting stuck in a crystal casket doesn't hurt either. (Disclaimer: this is semi-anthropogenic for those keeping score at home. Some of these mummies are preserved this way on purpose.)

TAR PITS - Like the bog, but hotter, stickier, and smellier. Go in the tar, have no oxygen causing you to fall apart, turn into another leather bag time capsule. This more often happens to animals like those in the La Brea Tar Pits than people. At least that we know of.

WEIRD, AS OF YET UNKNOWN MEANS - Can we say for sure that there was only one reason why Lady Dai/Xin Zhui's stayed so preserved for so long? What about the other wet mummies? What about ones people find in trees? Or whatever the hell was going on with Elmer McCurdy? Maybe it's not unknown, but it doesn't fit the bill of typical mummies, or there are so many factors at play leading to preservation that we can't just call it by one category.