#he's just full third-wheeling fifth-wheeling

[stbot]

And many a knee weakens, and pulse quickens, at the mere mention of Thraxus Relaxus-

Boorman!

[igetthedisneybox]

Carlos Madrigal

Inspired by @hannahhook7744's Encanto AU, and her own character headcanons.

Third image made using https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1558575

Fourth image made using https://www.dolldivine.com/la-colombiana

Fifth image made in Disney Dreamlight Valley

Carlos’s full name is Carlos Darío Guzmán-Madrigal.

His first name means “army” and his middle name means “goodness”. 

He is the third child of Dolores Madrigal and Mariano Guzmán.

He has his father’s lighter skin tone, jawline, and hair, and his mother’s eyes and nose. With these traits, he looks oddly similar to his Tío Camilo.

He is fourteen years old.

He has an older sister by five years, Leta, an older brother by a year, Andrés, and younger sisters by three, Avila and Amada.

He is uninterested in romance or sex.

His gift is duplication, and he can duplicate any non-living objects twice. Any more, and he gets really nauseous, and will eventually pass out. He loves his gift, and of course, uses it for evil. The adults in his life placed strict rules on duplicating money, so he doesn’t cause inflation, but he doesn’t really listen. He runs a bit of a duplication black market of sorts.

His door portrays him grinning, with one hand over his heart, and the other holding two orbs. Around his feet are more orbs.

His room looks like a store. There is stuff everywhere. All the walls are shelves, and the shelves are filled with more stuff. The floors are dark wood, and the walls are stucco red. The bed and amenities are all on wheels, and can be moved around at will. Carlos moves them out of the way during the day, because he literally runs a whole ass shop out of his room. 

His symbol is two overlapping orbs.

He and Dolores love each other, but don’t spend much time together. He’s eccentric and loud, while she’s quiet. She’s also the only one who knows his secret, but keeps quiet about it.

He and Mariano butt heads sometimes, just because Mariano wishes that Carlos was a bit more selfless…because he doesn’t know his secret.

He and Leta like to cause mayhem together, and she helps him with his black market business.

Carlos and Andrés are polar opposites, and therefore don’t get along very well. Andrés’ shyness and ‘goody-two-shoes-ness’ bugs the crap out of Carlos.

He encourages Avila and Amada to be wild, and to be themselves. They get free stuff out of his store.

He mainly hangs out with Amelia, Beatriz, Lidia, and José.

He gets along best with Bruno, Camilo, and José.

He’s hiding a huge secret: he’s a very generous person, and uses almost all of the money he earns to buy gifts for his friends and family, or donates it to the local orphans. If anybody questions him about where his money goes, he lies. He has a reputation to uphold.

He enjoys acting, like Bruno, Camilo, and Marcos, and so helps out with the theater a lot.

He dislikes poetry, but has a knack for scripts, and he and Mariano (when they get along) will take the time to write together.

He’s very popular with the Encanto, especially the children, who he has a soft spot for. He duplicates their sweets. Laundresses also love him, as he can duplicate socks that have lost one of a pair.

He has mild ADHD, and can’t sit still for very long.

His favorite colors are orange, yellow, gold, and maroon.

[rosanna-writer]

Karma Is My Boyfriend (3/6)

Summary: Elain Archeron saved countless lives by vanquishing Graysen Nolan, her literal demon of a fiancé. She's a hero, but it's just not fair that being a good witch destined to rid the world of evil has left her tragically, painfully single. Enter Lucien Vanserra, the best cupid in the business, who's been sent by the universe to balance the karmic scales and find Elain the perfect new partner…

Another update for @elucienweekofficial!!!

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

The third chapter can be found Here on AO3 or under the cut.

Archeron family dinners were a chaotic affair. That night, Nesta was using her telekinesis to move Rhys's wineglass another half-inch to the left every time he stopped paying attention, and Cassian was tossing grapes in the air to see if he could catch them with his mouth before Feyre turned them to mist. And when they weren't terrorizing their siblings-in-law, both married couples were holding hands under the table and making eyes at each other over their plates.

Elain loved them all—as individuals. But she hated feeling like a fifth wheel in her own home.

And she had to admit, it was better with Lucien there. Partially just because it was a relief that for once, she wasn't the only one with table manners. But also, because things felt…balanced with him there. Like he'd filled in a spot that none of them knew was vacant.

Elain could almost fool herself into believing that Lucien was a permanent addition to the household. But when the plates were cleared and Lucien stood to go, the illusion was broken, and she felt a strange sense of disappointment.

He held out a hand for her and said, "I have something to show you."

"Now?" Elain said.

"No time like the present. And I think unclogging that block is going to be quite the undertaking."

Elain wondered if he was really so eager to be rid of her that quickly. Perhaps as a cupid, he really did think of her as nothing more than a particularly nasty drain in need of a good plunging.

She took his hand and tried not to look hurt.

There was a flash of red light, and they found themselves in a crowded basement at a Halloween party. As Elain blinked and took in their new surroundings, a girl in cat ears walked straight through her and Lucien. And there was a strange, dreamy haze over everything.

They were watching a memory.

A version of herself from the past came down the stairs, wearing a headband with a halo on a spring and a pair of cheap plastic wings. She'd scrounged up the costume at the last minute, less worried about how she looked and just wanting one night of non-magical, normal fun.

As she made her way to one of the coolers full of drinks, one of the wings knocked into someone. "Sorry!" Elain said in the memory, turning to see who she'd bumped into.

It was the man she'd been hearing about all night. He wore a headband of his own, one with bright red horns, and carried a cartoonish pitchfork—no wonder Elain had been getting such strange looks when mentioned that she'd come here alone. Everyone had assumed they'd planned a couple's costume.

Graysen Nolan was even more handsome than she remembered.

Elain found herself clutching Lucien's hand as she watched herself flirt her way through her first interaction with her future ex-fiancé.

Their costumes, his cheesy line about whether or not it hurt when she fell from heaven—all of it was so much more painful in hindsight. She'd been so stupid and naive, starting with this very first night when she went home with him.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and her grip on Lucien's hand became painfully tight. "Why did you show me this?" she said, and the memory around them paused.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Lucien said gently.

"He was just another demon." One in a very long line of them—Elain had vanquished more than she could count.

"In the end, yes. But I brought you to this moment because none of that had happened yet. I won't deny that Graysen ruined it all later. But beginnings—when there's nothing but a spark and infinite possibilities—those are pure. You're blocked because you stopped believing in that."

Elain wiped at her eyes with the hand that wasn't entwined with Lucien's. "It was doomed from the start."

As a seer, she knew all about fate and inevitable sad endings. Her gift was meant to help her find innocents in need of protection—she never had visions of her own life. But still, a part of her thought that with all that experience, she should have predicted where things would end with Graysen anyway.

Lucien wasn't looking at her like she'd been silly or naive, though. There was a deep well of understanding in his eyes as he said, "Perhaps. But if that's the case, it makes you even braver for trying."

Before Elain could even begin to figure out what to say to that, there was another flash of light. This time, they appeared in a rooftop garden. The place where Graysen had proposed.

And the place where Elain had killed him.

He'd gotten paranoid, in the end. Elain had known something was wrong when he tried to isolate her from her sisters—urging her to move out of the manor, complaining that they stifled her, refusing to even be around them. After they'd discovered he'd lied about no longer killing innocents, Nesta or Feyre would have gladly been the ones to land the killing blow, but it was too difficult for them to get close enough. It had to be Elain.

To make a potion strong enough to vanquish him, they'd needed to brew it together, imbuing it with their combined power. Elain had dipped a dagger in it, then packed the blade along with snacks for a picnic and told her fiancé she'd planned a surprise for their anniversary.

The memory played, and Elain watched herself kiss Graysen hello for the last time. Even though it had been a risk—he might have found the dagger—she hadn't pulled it on him right away. To the very end, she'd been stupid and sentimental, and they'd reminisced about their first meeting in the place they'd gotten engaged.

Graysen hadn't known it, but it had been her way of saying goodbye.

Lucien wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Elain watched the memory. She leaned into him, grateful for the support as they watched the version of her from the past pull out the dagger. Graysen hadn't tried to fight her off; instead, he'd tried pleading with her, promising he wouldn't hurt another innocent again if Elain just let him go. He'd even cried.

Just for a moment, she'd considered it. He'd smiled when he saw the hesitation in her eyes, and that was when Elain plunged the blade into his heart.

Without thinking, she turned her head, burying her face in Lucien's chest as Graysen began to scream. The memory stopped, but they stood there in silence for a long moment, and Lucien's thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto her upper arms.

Safe. Elain felt so safe with him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and she let out an involuntary sigh. They might have been standing right in the middle of the worst memory of her life, but she'd want to stay there forever if it meant Lucien kept holding her.

"I know this one was painful to watch," he said eventually, "but I hope you can come away knowing how strong you are. You have every reason in the world to be afraid of finding love again, but I fully believe you can master that fear."

"Thank you," she said, voice tight.

There was another flash of light, and this time, a forest emerged around them. A gentle breeze was sending autumn leaves tumbling to the ground, and the air felt crisp as Elain breathed it in.

It was beautiful, but…completely unfamiliar. This memory wasn't hers.

Before Elain could ask where they were, she caught a glimpse of auburn hair gleaming in the sun. This was Lucien's memory, one old enough that there was no mechanical eye or scar on his face.

He looked contented enough, hiking a trail alone. And it seemed like he might have been the only person around for miles, but the sound of a dog barking shattered that illusion.

A woman Elain had never seen before came around a bend, her excited little dog wagging his tail and straining at his leash to get closer to Lucien. They stopped to talk. Lucien scratched the dog on his head, and somewhere in the middle of the conversation, the dog's happy bobbing and weaving between their legs resulted in the leash tangling together Lucien and the dog's owner.

They both nearly fell over, but at the last minute, Lucien grabbed her and pulled her flush against him. The woman giggled and blushed prettily.

"Her name was Jesminda," Lucien said quietly. Past tense.

He'd said that dating wasn't in the cards for him anymore. Perhaps it was rude to ask, but Elain supposed he'd shown her this for a reason. "What happened to her?"

"My stepfather was a demon, and she was one of the many innocents he killed before he was vanquished."

"I'm sorry." The words had never seemed so pathetically small, but there was nothing else she could think of to say.

"I became a cupid to honor her memory. After everything we shared, it seemed fitting to connect people with their true love so they could experience the same blessing that I did."

Elain turned to face him fully. By bringing her here, Lucien had bared a part of his soul to her. It was far more vulnerability than he needed to show in order to fix her block.

There was something more he was trying to tell her than just that she needed to believe in herself. "What makes you think you couldn't experience it again?" she said.

"It's exceedingly rare for lightning to strike the same place twice."

"But not impossible."

Lucien's smile didn't meet his eyes. "Not impossible. But close to it."

Elain couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't the only one whose past had left them blocked. But she wasn't a cupid whose expertise was matching people up with their happy endings.

Maybe…this had been Lucien's way of letting her down gently. If he wasn't ready to try again, she understood.

"Thank you for this," she said, taking another step away from him. "Really. It was all quite…illuminating. I think I might be closer to moving on."

"That's good to hear," he said, voice tight.

One last flash of light, and Elain was back at the Archeron manor, with Lucien nowhere to be found. She'd see him again—after all, she hadn't actually found true love yet—but with a pang, she realized she wished she could have bid him goodnight.

After everything she'd seen…Elain didn't want to be alone. The kitchen light was on, so she headed that way and found Cassian washing dishes. They did have a dishwasher, but it was out of commission. And since Cassian's job as a handyman repairing the manor was revealed to be a ruse that allowed him to keep an eye on his charges, nothing in the Archeron manor got fixed quickly anymore.

Ducking around one of his massive, feathery wings, Elain grabbed a clean towel and started drying plates. Might as well make herself useful.

"So what did you and Lucien fight about?" Cassian said, not even bothering with a greeting.

Elain nearly dropped the plate in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"You left to go unclog yourself or whatever and came back looking like you might cry."

"Nothing happened," she said quickly. Cassian just dropped the sponge, raised his brows, and waited. Elain sighed. "Nothing important happened."

"If it involves one of my charges, it's important."

Elain bit back another sigh—it wasn't fair of him to play the guardian angel card. She wouldn't be surprised if Nesta put him up to this. "Lucien's not a threat."

Cassian raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture, then went back to scrubbing a pan. "Good. Because if I need to give anyone the break-her-heart-and-I-break-your-face speech, I'd rather not find out last minute. And since you're dating again…"

He let the implication hang in the air. And despite herself, Elain's cheeks went pink. "It's too early for that."

"I'm just saying, since I'm banned from Adriata and all, I'll need extra advance notice with Tarquin."

Right. The wrecked building that he'd refused to share any further details about, no matter how many times she and Feyre asked about it. Elain found herself cracking a smile.

"You'll be the first to know. I promise."

"This is why you're my favorite charge. So much easier to keep track of than the other two," Cassian said, knocking a wing against her arm affectionately. Dropping his voice to a stage whisper he added, "Don't tell Feyre and Nesta I said that."

By the time the last of the dishes were dried and put away, Elain was feeling just a bit better. It helped that Cassian gave the best hugs of anyone she knew, wrapping her in both his massive arms and cocooning her with his wings, too. Once she was alone in her room, she sent a quick text message.

But somehow, once that was done, Elain was unable to shake the feeling that she'd just made a wrong choice.

[monosanimegenericzone]

What do you think bonfei dates would be like ^_^

HEHEHE

very quiet. they don't talk much, so they really just spend time together. since they're both advanced nen users they can sense shifts in the others' desires without speaking so it becomes a balance of what to do and when.

i think their top three are stargazing, concerts and sparring.

sparring is probably the most common since its the one they can get away with the whole troupe watching. this is as close to pda as they ever get- beating the shit out of each other or other people. i feel like bono wouldn't get too into public cage matches but if he wants to train he'll take it up with feitan first and then if he's not available, any other troupe member who wants to take a punch. phinks usually third wheels these dates and its only by the fifth one (in the span of two weeks) that he realizes, '. . . . oh my god they're flirting-'

concerts can take any form but usually they will just break into venues. is this inspired by the concert i went to recently? hell yeah. for classical or symphonic bands they'd go to enjoy or (for bono) study the music. for more modern style concerts (for feitan) it took a while for bono to get used to the volume and for a while they just used to watch from the top of a building nearby the venue so that it wasn't too overwhelming. however, as bonolenov started listening to more pop music they started crashing more pop-star ish concerts with a few other members bcs yeah. they're fans <3

stargazing is the most rare because they refuse to share it with anyone else. It's hard to do on jobs or in meteor city because of light and smog pollution. so this is like a once a month or once in a full moon occurrence where one or the other will mention there's a meteor shower or an eclipse or whatever it might be. and then they'll both meet and go see it. and it'll be a private meeting, just them two. if someone else is there, they'll just enjoy the view as individuals.

a few more casual dates are library dates, for research or just boredom purposes they'll go to a library or when on a heist, steal some interesting looking books.

hikes, again mostly for troupe business or reconnaissance for a job. bono enjoys the outdoors but to a certain degree. and temperature greatly effects how long he wants to stay outside XD if it too humid fuck nah he aint doing that shit.

cooking dates, where they'll spend like an hour or two making food and then sharing a meal. feitan struggled with this one and bonolenov is the only one he'll trust enough to eat with.

theyre so cute im ill i need to. grip them. and shake them around.

[askroahmmythril]

Development of the RMN Series

A recent ask got me thinking about how I developed my set of Robot Masters over the years, which ones were made earliest, which ones came later, design elements that changed over time, etc. So figured I could compile some of that here.

High School Era

The earliest one I made was Vegas Man. I've always had a bit of a fascination with playing cards, so I wanted to theme a Robot Master around that sort of idea, I definitely wanted to make card suits part of his design (I don't think I'd seen RM&B by that point, so I was unfamiliar with Magic Man). His design changed a bit over time, gaining some slight western theming, as well as a change to his weapon, the Casino Shield. The earliest version was an actual physical circular shield he wore on one arm, designed to look like a roulette wheel.

Next up was Bow Man. I think I was somewhat inspired by RMs like Knight Man and Yamato Man that were equipped with solid "real" weapons. Sword Man might have been on the list by that point as well, come to think of it. I figured an archer robot could fit right in. My mind immediately went to Robin Hood as a design base, an overall medieval look. It took some time to come up with a design that carried that feel but looked "robot armor" enough, but I'm fairly pleased with the current iteration.

Third in order was a very early version of Glass Man. I had the overall design elements, and solid idea of how I wanted his weapon, the Shatter Shard, to work. Earlier versions were more solidly based on more colorful stained glass, but I could never really come up with a solid design that I liked, they all just came out looking too complicated or just an overall shape I didn't like. As such, design for him kind of sat on the bench for awhile.

Fourth was Met Man. This one seemed like an obvious design to go for, as I always liked the Met / Metool / Metall enemies from the series, a longtime favorite. His design is probably the overall least changed from conception to current iteration. Earlier designs had the usual line and + mark on his shoulder pad "helmets" as well. The artist who drew the usual reference art I show for my RMs, Alex, drew him without those markings on the shoulders, and honestly I think that looks better, less cluttered. (I know I just recently posted his art of my RMs, but I put it up above at the start of this post for easy reference, and hey, I love the art and was honored to receive it, so I like showing it off, haha) I think the biggest change Met Man got was getting armed with a pickaxe, a design that came about when I started getting into the MMBN series and wanted to get a bit of Mettaur virus design in there.

College Era

While at Full Sail, my habit of doodling in the margins of my notes continued, and along the way, more custom RMs were born.

Fifth up and starting this period was Devil Man. I wanted a fiery volcano stage, but wanted to go with a less standard fire based idea. I had the idea of an RM using a grappling hook to get around the dangerous volcanic tunnels, and that idea ended up taking the form of a sharp, pointed devil-style tail. I didn't really have a solid personality in mind for him, though the actual visual design came along fairly quickly. Alex again gave me something that I adopted as canon for this RM, in his drawing of Devil Man, he was depicted "throwing the horns," so now I imagine him to be a major metalhead, headbanging on the job as he listens to his favorite heavy metal music.

Sixth in line was Origami Man. Origami is an art form I always liked, my mum had a lot of books on the subject, with step by step instructions for various creations. I knew I wanted to do something with that. The overall design gave me trouble, figuring out something that truly looked like origami armor. The pallet was something else that gave me trouble, but in the end, I opted for a softer pastel pallet, largely for some visual contrast from other RMs I had, a good number of which were already on the warmer side of colors.

This was also the period of time where I largely had Vegas Man's finalized design pretty much down, as well as the redesign of his weapon.

YouTube Era

For lack of a better term of time frame, I didn't really think too much about my custom RMs for awhile after Full Sail, until I had started making videos on YouTube and hanging out with various friends. One conversation with a group of people I used to hang out with involved the idea for a Mega Man fangame, and so, we set to designing RMs. While I did think of my older designs, I also decided "why not try making some new ones?"

Seventh on the list was Fruit Man. Our overall designs for the RMs for this game were more on the silly side, so I decided to go wild with his design, making him a mascot character for an orchard, and thus fully theming him on various colorful fruits. In keeping with the sillier ideas, I made his weapon a pun, the Pineapple Grenade.

The eighth and final design was Disco Man, or as he was originally dubbed, Groove Man. His original design was a bit less solidly themed on one genre of music, instead he was sort of build like an entertainment system featuring tape decks, a CD slot, speakers, etc. I was playing around with visual designs for the head, and the one I ended up liking most had a sort of disco ball afro design. Thus, he started leaning more toward a Disco design, with the disco ball motif migrating to his shoulders, the mixtape taking over his chest, chill shades, platform boots, and a more refined afro design. What can I say, I'm a sucker for disco aesthetic (bring back Miror B. you cowards).

This was also around the time I finally came up with a solid visual design that I liked for Glass Man, and thus, the family was complete.

The Mystery 9th Robot Master...

Technically speaking, back in the High School era, I did have one more RM I had been working on. In true order, he was the fifth design I was working on. His name was Quartz Man. He was going to be a time based RM, armed (literally) with a wristwatch device that gave him time control abilities. However, it was a case where a) I couldn't come up with a visual design I liked enough, and b) I couldn't really think of a solid way to give him time powers that felt unique enough. I think about the only solid part of his design aside from the watch was I think I wanted him to have glasses, I felt it would give him a sharper, more "intelligent" look. I think I had it in mind that he was sort of a strategist type, using his time powers in clever ways to gain the advantage. (EDIT : One further detail I remembered was his color pallet, I wanted him to have at least some sort of bright teal-ish green in reference to the "glow" function of digital watches.)

And so, that basically wraps up the ol' design process I went through over time for the RMN series. Hope you enjoyed this bit of personal history.

[pleasejustletpercyrest]

I’m surprised I haven’t caved and done this yet, but I NEED to talk about how fucked up it is that ole Papa Ricky missed out on prime ace/aro representation via Leo Valdez in favor of? Ruining part of his character arc? Let’s get into it.

Essentially, Leo’s entire character is based off of the loser boy who relentlessly flirts with anything that moves because he’s desperate. We see this in almost every book until he starts to get serious, and of course when the Calypso plot line begins. IGNORING THAT ENTIRE SECTION OF THE BOOKS, and instead looking more closely towards the whole “seventh wheel” thing, I would very much like to point my gay little finger and declare Leo on the a-spec.

Leo as a character is very performative, and we see him taking the role of the comedian, or the resident funny guy along with his throwaway usefulness as the engineer and repairer. In his POV multiple times we see a deeper exploration to his thoughts and actions, while in everyone else’s eyes, he’s just annoying, funny, and hyperactive. While this is an entirely different post I should be making in the name of Leo Valdez and all of his quirks and flaws, I also think that this inherently plays into the loneliness and separation that we see over and over again casting him as the third/fifth/seventh wheel.

I think there’s also something very telling about that desperation. Besides Rick very quickly throwing him into a romance to solve most of his “problems”, a lot of the earlier books show him flirting and throwing himself at women, but there’s no SUBSTANCE to it. In my personal experience, and in something very often seen in the aro/Ace community, to fit into social norms, you often try to attach yourself quickly to people, or convince yourself and your peers that you are experiencing crushes/attraction for a way to fit in to conversation and convention. Unintentionally, Rick wrote this little playboy character who is SO EASILY read as queer, specifically ace/aro!!!!

While we can only give the books so much credit for diversity and representation (as they are written by a cishet white man well past his 30s), the way that Leo is written so stereotypically gives me FUEL to headcanon that he is better than written. I like to think of his third wheel era with Piper and Jason as a sort of PART 1 to this realization, and then PART 2 comes around with Hazel and Frank. There could have been so many silly interactions if he was actually pursued as a queer character, and I will forever rage because of the sloppily thrown labels after HoO with Nico’s coming out arc.

(Once again, big W for the representation being shown, but I do have some issues with the execution)

I just imagine Leo, confused, watching these relationships on the Argo II and taking notes about what romantic attraction looks like. He has messy notes scribbled on his palm like:

-Laughs at joke that is NOT funny because they are blinded by love???

-Look like idiots holding hands and staring into each others eyes

-‘I would die for you’ but in a sexy way (aka how to date in demigod 101)

-Whatever the fuck Percy and Annabeth have going on

Relationships, specifically romantic ones, seem to be the only way that Rick truly allows important interactions to happen. What happened to declaring your loyalty but in a platonic sense? What happened to fighting for the power of friendship? What happened to Grover?!?!!!

I also truly believe that there could have been an entirely new angle explored between Nico and Leo’s relationship, and how they could’ve become tentative friends after Leo comes back from the dead, especially after the death of Jason Grace. I see perfectly an interaction that would go something like:

Leo, approaching Nico wearily at the dining pavilion: hey man, how did you realize you were gay?

Nico, not paying much attention, absolutely destroying a bowl of cereal: didn’t like women, liked men

Leo, nodding seriously, knowing full well that he isn’t gay but also not straight: I see…

ADDITIONALLY there could have been such a fun friendship with Piper and Leo if Rick Riordan wasn’t a coward and actually gave Piper a character arc where she was established as queer instead of just sprinkling it in at random. Piper, as a daughter of Aphrodite, with that ‘love sense’, I truly believe they’re could have been such fun scenes such as:

Piper, suspicious that Leo isn’t straight: so…you have any crushes?

Leo, panicking because now he has to think of someone who could reasonably be seen as someone he was crushing on: uh, um, uh, what’re you? A cop???

Piper, getting literally no vibes of any attraction whatsoever from Leo, throwing her tf off: uh, maybe

This also leaves the very real, very hilarious question of what Leo would see if he ever met Aphrodite. As Jason sees a lot of Piper, and Percy sees basically just Annabeth, I think it would be interesting to have an internal dialogue of Leo meeting the goddess of love and having her features shift constantly to try and fit an impossible attraction by melding together traits that are stereotypically pretty or beautiful.

Not all of this was entirely coherent, but I have very strong feelings on this headcanon and I am HORRIBLE at articulating anything in a way that makes sense. Thank you for, once again, coming to my Teddy Talky.

[raitrolling]

Lap of the Gods

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

(This drabble is the third episode of the Drive to Survive series)

Revoire City was known for three things: Being an almost-exclusively highblooded city and popular location for rich socialites and celebrities alike, being home to the largest and most famous casino within Alternia’s Central region, and hosting the most prestigious race on the Formula One calendar. 

Twice a sweep, the city is transformed into a full race track, blocking off all traffic and pedestrian access so that twenty of the planet’s best drivers can compete for the highly-sought-after position on the top step of the winner’s podium. Its history spans all the way back to the very first season of racing well over a century prior, and those who have competed in the sport consider winning the Revoire City Grand Prix to be one of the biggest achievements they can aim for, second only to winning the entire championship itself. 

Motorsport fans travel across the planet to try and catch a glimpse of the race in person. Trolls rich enough to afford apartments within the city gaze down at the cars driving right past their doorstep. Those who own yachts park in the city’s marina to watch the competition from the comfort of their own luxury vessel. And those who cannot afford the journey sit glued to their television screens at home, recognising every single landmark of the track despite never being physically present.

But, in order to compete in the race, one must first complete the qualifying round. And for the Revoire City GP, qualifying as high as possible has never been more important.

In the early sweeps of the championship, the cars were much lighter and smaller… But also deadlier to drive. As safety standards have improved and design choices for the vehicles focused more on perfecting the aerodynamics of the chassis, the cars have become larger and thus less suitable for Revoire’s track. Overtaking opportunities outside of pitting strategies are limited, meaning it is up to the driver to put together the perfect lap during qualifying. 

Tira had been knocked out during the second round of qualifying, his fourth Q2 exit in a row. This left Sharle as Aeon Racing’s only hope for a podium position, or perhaps even a win.

The blueblood had been wheeled into Aeon Racing’s pit garage after banking the initial qualifying lap, currently sitting at a decent but not desirable fifth place. He needed something on the board in case another driver crashed out and ended the session early, which was something to always be wary of in Revoire City. The circuit’s barriers were close to the track with few run-off areas, meaning that yellow or red flags during any session were highly likely.

Sharle continued to sit in the car as the mechanics swapped his used soft tyres for a fresh pair, analysing the data on the screens ahead of him. At the same time, his race engineer Prozit communicated to him via the radio, while the indigoblood sat on the pit wall.

“Your sector three is down five tenths to Komaii, but your sector one is up two. If we can put that final sector together, we have a good chance at pole,” the engineer stated, tone calm and clear as always.

“Yep, copy,” Sharle replied, eyes glued to the screens in front of him. The data allowed him to compare his sector times to the other drivers in this qualifying session, as well as watch the live timing screen.

Xersta Komaii currently held the provisional pole position at 1:10.573, but still had his final lap to complete. It was inevitable that he was going to improve that lap on his last run, as will every driver on the track. More rubber gets laid down on the circuit from the tyres, fuel is depleted to lighten the cars and batteries recharged for extra power, and minute changes in track temperature and wind speed are certain to occur within these final four minutes.

Sharle knew he could not aim to just beat Xersta’s time, he had to destroy it.

The wait until the head mechanic could release him from the garage was agonising for the blueblood, but timing was crucial. Despite only ten cars remaining in the final qualifying, finding the perfect track position to perform a flying lap could make or break one’s chances. Excess traffic and dirty air from nearby drivers would slow Sharle down, and without the second Aeon on the track, the team could not rely on creating a slipstream to allow for the cars to tow each other to the finish.

But as Sharle’s mechanic stepped out to motion that it was clear for the car to leave the garage, and the rest of the pit crew removed the tyre blankets and data screens, the falcon troll’s reaction was almost instantaneous. He peeled out of the garage, travelling down the pit lane and onto the track to start his out-lap.

By now, he only had about two and a half minutes to warm up his fresh tyres and assess the track conditions. While other cars around him were completing their flying laps, he drove off the racing line, making sure to maintain the same distance between the cars on their out-laps ahead of him to ensure he didn’t get caught in their traffic. 

An average flying lap of Revoire City was around 1:11. He was safe to take it slowly and get into the zone.

Remember what they discussed in the garage. The turns he can shave some tenths of a second off, the sectors he was lacking in compared to his main rival. Sharle’s heart was racing, but he kept his breathing steady. It was important to maintain a specific rhythm, holding his breath during the high g-force corners and releasing upon the exit of every turn. Even something so small as the rise and fall of his chest could affect his handling of the vehicle, especially at the speeds a Formula One car is capable of reaching.

The conditions felt right. The fuel load in the car was as light as it could be. The grip on the tyres felt good and the brakes were balanced. Sharle’s head felt almost eerily cool. He was ready.

He crossed the line with only two seconds left on the clock to spare, reaching full speed as he began his flying lap. It was now or never. He only had one chance to put together the perfect lap.

The first three turns breezed by quickly - the historic subjuggulator church at Sainte Devote, the uphill climb at Beau Rivage, then the long left-handed turn known as Massenet corner. The street circuit was tight and technical, but the first sector was probably the easiest section with its long curving roads with slight right-handed bends. Had he not been as focused, Sharle might have reminisced about the time he took his matesprit around the track, pointing out those exact landmarks which make the circuit so iconic. 

The second sector was where he really needed to start concentrating. The track descends down the hill, through the car park of the famous Revoire Casino and into the Mirabeau corners. Hivestem apartments had replaced the long-since-demolished hotel of which the corners were named after, their balconies loaded with trolls relishing in having the best seats to view the track. The blueblood kept his head down and his gaze firmly ahead as he drove past them, trying to not get distracted by the waving banners and cheers barely-audible over the car’s engine. The best racing line required him to skim as close to the side walls as possible, and with the sudden shift into the slow corners of the upcoming turns many drivers have made race-ending mistakes in this section.

The sixth turn of the circuit, known only as the Hairpin, is the slowest corner of the entire F1 calendar. As Sharle braked all the way from over 120km/h to 45km/h to make that left-handed hairpin, he thanked his lucky stars that none of the cars ahead of him had misjudged the turns and blocked the track. He could pick up the pace slightly as he approached the second Mirabeau corner, and once those three tight turns were completed, he was free to race once more.

The worst part of the track was finally over, but Sharle could not relax yet. He was only a few turns into the second sector.

“18.642 seconds, sector one,” Prozit repeated his time back to him on the radio so he could keep track. The call was somewhat delayed, but the blueblood knew that he was on a good pace.

A right-hand down through Portier corner, where Sharle was greeted by the sea off to his left and the famous long stretch of tunnel ahead of him, the only track on the calendar with such features. He had once taken too much speed into this corner and smacked the back of his car into the barrier, but this time no such mistake was made. As the road slightly meandered around a right-handed bend, he slammed down on the accelerator and picked up the pace.

He barely registered the two cars driving off the racing line as he soared through the tunnel, a Laudi and the Zaxium on their cooldown lap. He didn’t need any distractions.

Harsh moonlight flooded his vision as he exited the tunnel, rendering the entrance into the Nouvelle Chicane an almost blind one. He operated on pure muscle memory from sweeps spent training on-track and in the virtual simulator as it took precious milliseconds for his eyes to readjust to the changed lighting.

The car took a slight amount of kerb over the chicane more than he had intended, causing a less than perfect entrance into Tabac corner, and Sharle cursed to himself under his breath.

Stay calm, stay calm. He knows this circuit. He lives and breathes this circuit. Focus on nothing but the turns ahead of him and keeping his breathing steady.

Through the Swimming Pool sections - a chicane, a short straight down the main harbour, and a second chicane back onto the streets of Revoire City. There was no hesitation from Sharle as he angled the car to ride over the edges of the kerbs, hearing the rumble of the rubber against the grippier cement. The second chicane had a somewhat harsher angle, requiring him to slow down and tilt the steering wheel full lock to line up beside the barrier to maintain the racing line, before returning to the higher gear.

“Sector two, three tenths to Komaii.” Prozit calmly explained over the radio.

Three tenths. Sharle had to find three more tenths of a second in the remaining two turns, the most technical part of the track. Every moment counted. 

The fastest way through was to drive full-tilt through every single corner, aiming as close to every single barrier as possible without touching any, but it was also the riskiest strategy. One mistake and he could clip a wall - or worse, lose control and skid straight into a barrier, costing him the entire weekend in a single second.

Sharle nodded to himself. He knew what to do. 

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he went full throttle down the exit of the Swimming Pool, and full commitment into maintaining the tightest racing line possible. He was but a hair’s breadth away from the barrier as he drove in towards La Rascasse corner, then crossed over to the opposite side of the track in order to line up his car and hit the perfect apex. The car just barely scraped by the barrier of La Rascasse’s right-hand turn, as again the steering wheel was in full lock to make that exit.

Those watching from the grandstands may have wondered if the car was on rails with the way it so easily carved a path through the corners, with little to no margin for error. The driver of the Aeon appeared to be completely synced with the car, breathing heavily yet in perfect rhythm to match to constant shifting g-forces from switching between brake and throttle. 

A few minor corrections to the steering wheel were made as he went full throttle and soared through the final S-Bend corner, driving like a man possessed. He rode as close to the barriers as he could, keeping to that racing line with almost machine-line precision, thinking of nothing but the exact moments he needed to adjust his foot on the pedals and listening to the sound of his own heartbeat roaring in his chest, keeping in time with telemetry of the car.

Upon the final exit, the right front tyre barely kissed the side of the barrier. A move that would cost him a few hundredths of a second, but he did not dare to waste any time correcting the steering wheel or assessing the potential damage. Not when he was so close to the end.

All that stood between him and a potential pole position was the main straight. 

The exit of the Antony Noghès S-Bend was the only zone on the entire circuit where the Drag Reduction System can be activated, allowing for those precious few extra tenths of speed to be gained. Sharle pressed down hard on the DRS button on the steering wheel and planted the accelerator to the floor with his foot. The flap on the rear wing opened up, increasing the amount of aerodynamic air flow the car can handle. The blueblood stared straight ahead and did not dare to breathe, as even the slightest movement could affect the car’s handling, his hands gripped the steering wheel stock-straight, and-  

The chequered flag was nothing but a blur of black and white as he flew past the finish line, and when the car passed through the sensors, his name shot up the scoreboard.

1:10.159

The crowds in the grandstands leap to their feet in wild applause. The mechanics in Aeon Racing’s garage exploded into enthusiastic cheers, hugs, and fist pumps. Engineers belonging to rival teams stare agape at the last entry that appeared on their timing screens. Even the commentators are speechless for a few moments.

Sharle could not hear the cheers of the crowd as he continued around the track for the cool down lap, but he could see fans jumping up and down and waving. He took a hand off the steering wheel to return the gesture, unaware of exactly what had hyped everyone up until the radio crackled to life with his engineer’s calm voice.

“Okay, Sharle. That is a P1 start for you, we have pole position for the race. Congratulations, you’ve broken the course record for the fastest lap.”

For a moment, Sharle thought his heart was racing too heavily in his ears from the adrenaline that he didn’t hear correctly.

“Er, huh? What was that?” He replied, incredulous. He knew his lap was good, and he’d given it everything he had, but-

On the pit wall, Prozit cracked the rarest hint of a smile.

“I repeat - Pole position and a course record. You’ve done it Sharle, we’re all so proud of you.”

The words stunned the blueblood so much he almost drove straight into the barrier.

“Oh- Oh, my god. Oh my god? Are you serious? Did we do that??” Sharle’s voice becomes progressively louder as the words properly sink into his head, and all the adrenaline flowing through his veins feels unable to be contained any longer. Underneath his helmet, he is grinning practically ear to ear, and his eyes are filled with manic excitement.

“LET’S FUCKING GO!! WOOOOO!!!!”

The sheer power behind his scream of pure elation peaked his microphone into distorted incomprehensibility for the television audiences listening at home, but the bout of joyous laughter that followed could be understood by all.

He’d done it. He’d conquered the track that he called home. It was as if every second spent behind the wheel had led to the exact moment, cruising down the last few turns of the track to wave to the crowds and park his car on the number 1 position on the grid. He had started on pole for quite a number of races before, but here - in historic Revoire City - the victory felt like nothing he could ever describe. It was pure magic.

Sharle had completed the hardest part of the Grand Prix and came out of it a record holder. Now the team will have to pull out all the stops for tomorrow’s race to ensure their driver is crowned the champion.

[nicodemuslily]

A day at work

Those uber-sketchy-sketches illustrate a text that I have written about my favorite BAU team and, most of all, about my favorite character ever: Daddy Hotch! /o/

Well, the story takes place after Haley’s death and before Jack is able to go to school. On the first drawing, JJ enters Hotch’s office to discover him with a surprise package in his arms. Jack is sleeping into them when his father is working on the accounts of the BAU. Hotch explains her that Jessica is on a country trip for family business and that the babysitter is not available. Then, Hotch has to stay at the bureau when the others wheel up for a new case. 

Second drawing, JJ was the only one to know about Jack presence when he suddenly talks to his dad in a middle of a visioconference with his crew. Garcia immediately runs to the boss office to squeeze tiny-Hotch in her arms. And Jack is thrilled to meet again the shiny and funny FBI agent. During this time, Hotch is just trying to reach for a tiny colored felt cap that rolled under the couch. 

Third drawing: Hotch has to make an evaluation for Strauss. As so, he entrusts Jack to Garcia for an hour. A good point because she’s the only one in the building able to brake the FBI firewall to have access to some streaming platform with many animated movies. She is supposed to work during this time, but Hotch finally finds them enjoying the same movie together.

Fourth drawing: actually, this one takes place before the third one but whatever. Garcia is working on a request from the team, when she turns on her wheelchair and discovers that the boy disappeared. Following Morgan advice, she runs to the men bathrooms as he is under no surveillance camera. She enters the room, eyes closed, hand on her face, apologizing and calling for the boy at the same time. Receiving no answer, she comes out to bump into Hotch himself. [spoiler]Jack wasn’t into the toilet but he ran back into his father office to take his favorite toy with him. His goal was to turn back to Garcia’s office then. Hotch was searching to Garcia only to reassure her because he knows she will be upset then.[/spoiler]

Fifth drawing: Hotch is trying to explain to his son why he calls Penelope, Garcia, and not Penelope, even if he considers her as a closed friend (that’s why he also calls her Penelope sometimes). [spoiler]He didn’t succeed to make his son understand this weirdness of the adult world[/spoiler] Then, they choose what they want for lunch. 

Sixth drawing: Garcia, Hotch and Jack take their lunch altogether in Hotch’s office. Jack wants to eat his ice cream sit on his father chair and Aaron agrees only if he doesn’t put his fingers full of chocolate everywhere on his desk. Garcia and Hotch take this time to have a tchat together, Penelope wanting to be sure that her boss is okay. 

Last drawing: end of the day, the team is back after they closed the case, as they caught the bad guy. Penelope suggests for a restaurant and Jack asks to come with them. JJ tells him he will be their special guest and, as Jack wants for some pizza, Rossi says that he knows a place. 

___

Did this at work, with absolutely no references and not even the good materials. Sorry for the sketchiness of this, but that was fun. :D

[diabelskoga]

Birthdaay assskk! The door of the kitchen’s cabin is opened and shut with a single slam, the artist holds it closed as there’s loud bagging on the other side. Mr 3 seems roughed up, out of breath as if he just ran a whole marathon. “ IF THE WAX WASN’T EDIBLE YESTERDAY IT NOT GOING TO BE EDIBLE TODAY GA NE! IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT! JEEEZZZ! IT IS NOT ! E DI BLE GAAA NEEE! ” He screams, sweat dripping from his forehead as he finally turns an angry gaze towards the blond there. “ Y—YOU MANIAC, CRAZY, IRRESPONSIBLE! Yeeeess I may have been a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle harsh on my little pay back but this? THIS IS INSANE! HYAAA— ” After one last big thud, things seem to settle as Mr 3 slowly slips to the floor, sitting down but still holding on to the door. “ ……….Fuwaaaaa! Oh! the things I have to say—but not today. Today I shall indulge in a little kindness... ” The artist looks over the window while fixing his bow tie. A shiny and adorned wheel lighter is taken from his shirt pocket. A single slide is enough to open and show the flames and it closes in a pleasant click as he throws it to the blond. “ To match your golden one, huh. It’s always good to have more than one, right? Have a terrible birthday, ga ne. I shall take my leave. ” An annoyed huff to the side as he triumphantly walked to the door… just to turn back, shoulders dropped in anxious stance. “ Aaaaactually may I stay for a little more?… Pretty Pleaaaaseee gaaa neeeee ”

birthday asks. ( accepting! )

This was his third? No, his fifth cigarette; a certain day where Sanji would happily go through at least two packets to feel normal. Is this bad for his health? Yup. Does he care? Nope. He brought his fifth cigarette to his lips, his hands now patting his pockets for his lighter. Then suddenly there's a slam, which made him drop his cigarette out of surprise and shock. He swore underneath his breath; he was not expecting that. ( Then again, he should've. )

Turning around, Sanji saw Mr 3; all dishevelled, panting, as if running for his life. He sounded like he ran for his life, and then his exclaims made him grin, amused. He was definitely running for his life. He bent down, plucking the dropped cigarette off the ground and brushing off the dust or dirt with a few quick swipes of the hand.

With the cigarette back between his lips, Sanji stood there, arms crossed over his chest; facing the angry trumpets that was Mr 3's voice. ❝ Little? ❞ Offended by that, Sanji uncrossed his arms; hands now relocated on his hips, glaring down at the devil fruit user. Little?! ❝ You know what's little? Canapés! Finger foods! That's little! Your finger food was a full-on middle finger and a shit show of humiliation! That is not little to my standards! ❞

His tongue clicks at the roof of his mouth, tsking, his anger simmering for a moment like it was on low heat. Then he glanced at the present. He grabs it in mid-air, catching it and looking at it, flickering the lid up with practise effort. Humming, Sanji marvelled at the mermaid. What a cutie! He looked satisfied with that, liking the silver and the blue.

❝ Funny enough, I was looking for my golden one. ❞ But this will do, as Sanji lights it up, using it to burn the tip of his cigarette. Ah, that is so much better. Raising a curly eyebrow, Sanji watched Mr 3 almost leave. He took note of his anxious form, a clear sign that he did not want to step out. He huffs. ❝ Fine. Stay. Annoy me even a little and you're out, got it? I'm only letting you stay because you got me a fine gift. ❞

[posswrites]

When the end of October rolled around, Harry and Hermione had been spending most of their evenings in the Room of Requirement, which Hermione confirmed by their location on the map when they left, sneaking to the fifth floor after everyone had gone. Hermione frequently complained about how useful this room would’ve been when she had the time turner, because it would have been great for doing homework. Harry did feel bad because he still hadn’t told Ron about the room at all. He knew he’d have to, and he’d been meaning to, the right opportunity had just never come up. He’d wanted to wait for a time when no one was around, which was rare, and he couldn’t just blurt it out, so he was waiting for relevant conversation, which was nearly impossible. He could just see it now - “yeah, Hermione and I have been spending our nights in a secret room that I haven’t told you about because it’s great to be alone”.

But it felt weird to be there without him. For years, it had always been the three of them - the trio . And as much as he loved spending alone time with Hermione, this felt like a weird sort of betrayal to be here without him. Not that he’d have a good time just spending his nights studying, but he had to be careful about this sort of thing. Ron had joked about being their third wheel over the summer, and Harry had promised him he didn’t have to worry about it. With Hermione’s head resting on his shoulder from where she’d fallen asleep in the middle of studying, though, it was beginning to feel like Ron had a point.

Full chapter on AO3 -> Patreon (access to drabbles, early chapters, and drafts) -> Possum Hollow Discord (chapters posted a day early) ->

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Please please infodump about the lore please 🥺

You’ve just opened a Pandora’s box full of nonsense (thanks for enabling me <3)

Poe is a great cook - he used to spend HOURS in the kitchen with Shara, watching her cook and helping whenever she’d let him. Now, it’s something that makes him feel close to her whenever he makes a meal for someone else because he remembers how much effort and love she’d put into all of her food

Finn is The Matchmaker. He got Rey and Rose together (it was significant easier than trying to get Poe and Reader together). He just loves to see his friends happy, but he never feels like a third/fifth wheel because they’re friends first and couples second

When Poe joined the Air Force straight out of high school, Kes didn’t talk to him for a few weeks. As much as he loves his son and supports him in anything, this was the one thing Kes said he could never do. Poe just wanted to be like his parents, wanted to honor his mom’s legacy

Adding onto that last bullet point, Kes is the one who convinced Leia to give The Resistance to Poe and Finn - ultimately it was her idea but Kes definitely did some meddling. She loves stopping in unannounced - those are her boys, she loves them like sons, but they get spooked easily (they just want to impress her)

Finn is scared of birds, and everyone gives him shit for it. He can’t explain why, but he hates all birds. Like if one comes near him, he’s going to move

Rey also wanted to join the Air Force, but she quickly released it wasn’t for her. The boys, who she’d met literally a few days before she made this decision, supported her 10000% and made her promise to keep in touch. She did, and then she went to college and worked her ass off. She’s a kick ass lawyer (which I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned)

Just like how Leia decided they were all her children (she’ll meet Reader soon I promise), Kes practically adopted Finn and Rey as soon as they met him. For at least five years straight they were spending every holiday at the Dameron household (he still loves Rose, but he saw two orphans who were besties with his son and said ‘they’re mine now’)

These are all just kinda off the top of my head, but please keep asking questions!! Literally anything anyone wants to know, I’ll tell you (except major spoilers, y’all will just need to wait…)

[lunanheartache]

this is babygar. young jgar & lamb.. theyve been adventuring for a little bit, known each other a smidge. theyre on watch on a job together and just hangin out. 1.9ish k

nature is loud. nightfall just means new music. sheltered in a small copse just off the road, j'gar sits with his back against a wagon wheel and admires the sound. crickets and cicadas and chatterbugs, each chirping their own recognizable chorus. it sounds like back home, like walking back from town with his family after one of any dozen of festivals with his heart warmer than summer, like staying up late nearly half out the window to read by moonlight. insects themselves don't live for long but the instinct does; there's that almost-butterfly feeling in his bones, a weird sort of comfort that these are the same sounds his momma heard growing up in the valley, same sounds her momma and every other iteration before him heard. he's looking at the same full moon and listening to the same bugsong as back in lunan, and that.

well, it's bittersweet tonight, but bittersweet don't mean not good. it's good. like a pink clay balm, it settles some itch that he knows has been growing under the skin for a while. if he closes his eyes, he can pretend he's out in the field with ruva while he talks about constellations and star stories.

but he's on a job, and ruva is not here. the stray fireflies that wander in, lost from the honeysuckle vines and windy fields, are familiar but new to him. the starlight through cracks in the canopy is unnameable.

j'gar takes a deep breath.

he scans the woods in front of him again. with the full moon drenching everything in thin silver, it isn't hard to see. finer details blur and jumble, but the core is still unmistakeable. the horses are quiet standing side by side, kept in a small makeshift corral. that's a good sign. no smell or sense to frighten them means nothing to worry about. nothing moves beyond leaves in the soft breeze, almost like blessing between the sticky heat of summer. the insect chatter drones unchanged. nothing to disturb it, nothing to break it to silence like a warning.

j'gar twists at the waist, one hip pressed to the dirt, and peeks under the cart. there's a thin shape leaning against it. "lamb, you see anythin'?" he whispers loudly.

"nothing but trees," lamb returns.

"nothin' over here neither. you know how much time we got left 'fore we can wake up what's-his-name?"

lamb's silhouette shifts a fraction. "a few hours," they say.

"damn."

j'gar turns back to his side with a half-hearted sigh. watch is boring. it's easy money at least, some rich guy - a wannabe politician what with his accent but lack of official guards - asking for hired help to make sure he travels safely through the boondocks. hardly feels like honest work, but the money from his last job is down to a few copper and that ain't enough for more than a day or two's room and board at any inn. he don't have to do nothing but stay up late and scan the horizon like a starving hawk, and by the time they reach the next town, his pockets will be plenty replenished. free travel, even.

still, there's something kinda funny. sitting crosslegged, j'gar props an elbow in the meat of his thigh and his cheek on his hand. this is the third job he's handled with lamb. fifth time they've run into each other. half of those, something went wrong. that job in munelle, playing hired hands to protect a shipment of wine until lamb asked a few pointed questions and the courrier flew off the handle (j'gar still isn't sure on the details there, too busy dodging to pay attention); vanerbrook was crooked from the start too, apparently, trying to find a missing mother and child when she had rushed out by the skin of her teeth and this man just weren't going to let her go easy; with ravet, it wasn't even the job but the inn, owners using a combination of magic and sleight of hand to rob folks blind in their sleep.

like lamb spells trouble. a bad omen, but a pretty one. if he were superstitious, he might be worried.

at least they're a familiar face. he'll take that. she says hi when she notices him, stops by his table if they're at the same bar. not quite a friend but not a stranger neither. another liminal space, personhood abandoned in the rush.

insectsong drones on as he stares blankly at a patch of dirt. he hums a vague tune to himself in response. the air smells warm and wet with summer, lifted up by leaflitter, fresh growth, and honeysuckle. too hot for a fire, it stays dark beyond fireflies and the full moon, and that's fine. it's enough to see by. he thinks about taking his shirt off to sleep, but he might just have to sweat.

"hey," comes a soft voice from behind him. something touches his hip.

j'gar startles without a sound, snaps away from the cart and pivots to face it in one smooth motion. his hand claps primed to the pommel of his axe, and.

it's lamb.

lamb, lying on his stomach in the shadowed dirt under the cart, looks at him with wide eyes. her hand stays in the air where it was, where it tapped him for attention. her eyes reflect starlight, color washed away to shiny silver.

the adrenaline collapses with him; j'gar drops the held position for a comfortable slump. "shit-hell, lamb, you scared the fuck outta me," he hisses quietly.

"sorry," lamb says, ears drooped sheepishly. "i didn't mean to. i thought we had talked so. um. sorry."

"s'fine, i just needa minute for my heart to settle. woof."

"want a cookie?" offers lamb hopefully.

"what, you got cookies under there? nevermind, don't needa ask me twice, i'm comin' in."

lamb shuffles back at an angle to make room, disappearing into the dark under the wagon. j'gar crawls forward and flattens to his stomach, squinting to see better; propped up on their elbows, lamb lies halfway under, a small cloth between their arms. it smells buttery, a little floral. distinct enough that it cuts through the wood, sweat, and dirt. he's not hungry but his stomach flips.

he pulls himself to mirror lamb. like this, they can both see out the other side, can still maintain some semblance of a watch.

not that j'gar pays much attention. nothing is going to happen. travel has been uneventful and bland thus far. his attention latches onto lamb eagerly. they're hard to see in the dark but j'gar knows them well enough he can fill in the blanks: messy brown hair, soft brown eyes cracked with amber, and the faintest hint of freckles. their eyes catch with the moon, harder to read but friendly nonetheless. the laced front of his shirt is casually, comfortably halfway undone.

he's not hard to look at. much more interesting than the trees.

j'gar smiles distractedly, half crooked. it widens when lamb returns it. "so what kinda cookies ya got?" he asks.

"lavender thyme shortbreads," lamb says.

"don't think i ever had one'a those," j'gar says, reaching out to take one. "not a chocolate chip fan? i do like a good oatmeal cookie. that's probably my favorite, really. back in lunan, everybody goes to the shed barn an' they make a real good fried sage blossom but i don' think they done nothin' with herb cookies like that. oh, they do gotta herb bread though, but tha's just okay."

"the chocolate at spinner's gorge wasn't exactly high quality. i usually like chocolate."

"just not spinner's chocolate," says j'gar. he cracks the cookie in half, florals light on his tongue. "oh, shit, this ain't bad. you got this in spinner? i guess i'on't really got money to be spendin' on pastries, really, so maybe all'a spinner's got good shit."

"no, i had plenty of bad pastries there," lamb says, nudging the cloth and its contents closer to him, "but these were decent. are you looking for jobs in kaszka?"

"i mean, i look for jobs everywhere. just seemed like there weren't much left in uwlbern. i figured might be time to try a big city, y'know? you know. you from up that way, or somethin'. not from any'a these backwoods villages."

lamb almost looks embarrassed, ducking their head and mumbling grass between their fingers. "you wouldn't be wrong. kaszka can be a lot, though. you know cities have pickpockets," he says.

"i got a good eye on me," j'gar says around a mouthful of cookie.

"how many scrapes have i pulled you out of?"

"that ain't fair," he complains, goodnatured. "none'a those jobs we been on were out there wavin' red flags. they was just borin' scutwork, an' iunno how you seen through what you seen through, lamby. better eye than me, for sure."

"you're too willing to take people at their word," lamb says, not unkindly. there's something almost wistful about it, curling wry at the edges. "people aren't as good as you want them to be."

"i mean, sure, but most folk only got their word an' if i don' take 'em for it, where's that leave me?"

"safer," says lamb, "usually."

j'gar grins and takes another cookie. "i been takin' you for your word, should i not be?" he teases.

"you've taken more than my word."

"lamby," j'gar says, playfully scandalized. his face warms, but it's dark and stupidly hot anyway. he swats at her shoulder. "you taken more than my word way more than me. gettin' cocky on me jus' 'cause i rolled over once?"

ducking their head, lamb laughs, quiet. there's a sleepy sort of fondness plain on their face like this, half-obscured in shadow. like between the dark and the hour, their guard's down and they're something more like a friend than a friendly stranger. a person, if only briefly.

j'gar's heart aches. he thinks about home. thinks about lunan, and everyone he left behind, and all the people he hasn't seen in a handful of years. thinks about all the people he has, and how he don't mean nothing to them beyond a tool, a solution, a quick fix to some problem they can't handle. no connection, no care. he's as nameless and faceless as anyone, meaningless and useful in the same breath, and lamb - and everyone - is in the same stupid boat.

it's funny in a sad sort of way. lying on his stomach under some rich fuck's carriage eating cookies and joking about one night stands with someone he barely knows, and that's what means something.

ah, well. he's lonely.

"shut up. which way you headed after we get to kaszka, tough guy?" j'gar says, poking lamb's arm.

lamb bats his hand away, sticking out her tongue. "haven't decided yet. i was just in kaszka recently. not much for me there," she says.

"whatcha goin' back for then?"

"there's a good- bread i miss," he says. his eyes flicker, hesitant. "nothing fancy. it's just- sweet."

j'gar gasps exaggeratedly. "you like somethin' not fancy? hon, you down here in the dirt eatin' lavender, what's so special about this bread an' where can i try it?"

lamb lets out a little self-conscious laugh, bowing their head to his shoulder. "how about you come with me when we get there?"

"it's a date, lamby."

[quillyfied]

top 5 pirates

Aha! The vagueness of what pirates you meant automatically means I can wriggle out of how my knowledge of historical pirates has significantly diminished since my POTC-induced pirates phase in high school and skip straight to fictional pirates, which I will do so immediately!

First: Ed "Blackbeard" Teach, Our Flag Means Death

Invented not only having eyes, but making an entrance, wearing definitely historically accurate leather, and falling head over heels for a man covered in his own blood and looking like an unfortunate wet noodle accident. Searingly clever, beautifully complex, an ADHD King we can all get behind. I drool enough about him and his character on the daily but truly, is there ever such a thing as too much appreciation for a man who's good at the ugly bits of piracy but longs for softer things? And is played by a multi-talented actor who goaded an incredibly skilled stunt double into pulling off the most impressive whip maneuver to make it look like he'd gotten his balls whipped? (And, of course, honorable big mentions to the rest of the cast, you're all doing great jobs sweeties.)

Second: Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean franchise

If you were a kid in the aughts, this guy was life-changing. Quippy, expressive, an unconventional strategist, and got to have fights in the coolest places (the water wheel three-way duel in the second film lives in my brain as a top cinematic fight). Did he influence my desire to own tall boots and layered jewelry long before they were fashionable in my teenage years? Yes. Yes he did. And his fluid morality was equally interesting to watch. Not sure if he ever crossed into antihero territory, but it was certainly entertaining to see the guy you were rooting for double-cross the other heroes you were also rooting for and wonder how he was going to talk his way out of this one.

Third: Westley, The Dread Pirate Roberts, Princess Bride

Now this guy, this guy was the original quipmaster supreme of clever plots. Perhaps only a pirate in the loosest definition, since he abandons piracy pretty much immediately the second he sees Buttercup again and we never see him on a ship, but those skills don't leave--and his sword fight with Inigo is another banger of a fight scene. Dashing, romantic, sarcastic, and determined, delivering a scathing bluff the likes of which I haven't seen before or since, Westley is a sly rogue I personally wouldn't like to be in the way of.

Fourth: Silver, Treasure Planet

You want to talk about pirates with grey morality but hearts of gold, plus excellent character design and voice acting, it doesn't get much better than Mr. Silver the Cyborg here. In a richly-animated movie stuffed full with more atmosphere and unique character design than you can shake a stick at, for Silver to stand out as not just a main support character, but a fully-realized one with a complicated past and a truly frightening dark side along with genuine emotional depth is quite a feat. I haven't read "Treasure Island", so I don't know how far the script changed for this film, but he's a standout for Disney pirates--and fictional pirates in general, tbh.

Fifth: Captain Shakespeare, Stardust (movie)

What can be said about this magnificent man that hasn't already been said? The performance was stellar, and done in such a way that Captain Shakespeare's cross dressing, while humorous because of how flirty and over-the-top he acts here in front of his mirror despite danger right behind him, doesn't feel like the butt of a cruel joke. He's still a capable captain and leader, and he gets to embrace the soft side of himself while still maintaining a good relationship with his crew and a tough reputation. If piracy as a genre is about freedom, I think this guy might have been one of the first to start challenging the hyper-violent, hyper-masculine image of a pirate on the fictional screen.

So many pirates to love (or hate), so little room!

[otterant]

. ✧ . * . ⌜ nico hiraga, twenty-three, cismale, he/him / falling by harry styles + the soft thump thump thump of a skateboard’s wheels traveling across corridor stone, a dank herbal smell clung tight to wrinkled shirts, and trying to make a leap year out of your birthday for fear of growing up.⌟ hey, have you met ANTHONY “ANT” OTTERBURN yet? they’re a FIFTH YEAR at hogwarts and are a HUFFLEPUFF. makes sense given they tend to be a bit RELAXED and UNSERIOUS. it seems the death of the boy who lived has placed them on the NEUTRAL side of the looming war. let’s just hope they make it out alive.

tw: drug use, intense guilt, potential drug/alcohol abuse, death mention

full name: anthony 'ant' kei otterburn

date of birth: october 17th

star sign: libra

place of birth: cork, ireland

family: gin otterburn (father), brigitte stump (mother), esme otterburn (younger sister, npc)

sexual orientation: dislikes labels, very much an open-minded individual.

religion: atheist.

tattoos: countless at this point, but some standouts are: a little ghost ripping a bong near his right elbow, a 'meh' face in his ear, a fish riding a bike on his left thigh, a frog failing at skateboarding on his left ribcage, and a leafy sleeve down his right arm.

style: vintage shirts with stains that haven't been magic'ed away yet, a beanie present regardless of weather, white socks stretched past the ankle, black and white vans, a jean jacket one size too big, a second jean jacket spattered with various patches, beaten converse, flannel shirts always worn open, an array of solid colored hoodies, dad jeans with rips at the knees, questionable dad caps.

the soft thump thump thump of a skateboard’s wheels traveling across corridor stone, the pain of tattoo needle and for no added meaning, assignments turned in perpetually late, a dank herbal smell clung tight to wrinkled shirts, a false feeling of home, dad caps turned backwards, cat hair clinging to jeans rolled twice at the hem, escaping to the roof of the tallest tower and ignoring the fearful beat in your chest, growing unsanctioned plants in the back of your dormitory closet, forever kicking your feet up, putting blinders on for prophet headlines, and trying to make a leap year out of your birthday for fear of growing up

let's get the important part out of the way first— anthony couldn't remember the last time anyone had called him by his given name aside from three occasions: 1) the first role call in class, 2) anything to do with the ministry, and 3) when he went had put himself into trouble, earning a tongue lashing from his mother. those aside, he was ant. a small few called him otto, a riff off his family name but regardless it was always a nickname.

but back to before the very start, his parents had been hogwarts sweethearts, finding each other officially in their third year and, well, making that history. they weren't a perfect couple by any means but they loved one another, still do, and created a happy home for their two children to grow up in.

a happy, regular, standard, perfectly fine childhood... up until his sister never displayed any signs of magic. esme and anthony had been a set of irish twins, close from the very start. but things started to splinter when ant had his first case of accidental magic and hers never came. a long lists of incidents confirmed ultimately by a lack of hogwarts letter on her part. she'd taken off to america instead, a fracture turned continents wide. it wasn't that they didn't like each other anymore, or that they argued... there had just become this painful sense of different. and for ant a sense of guilt.

ant had learned early into his hogwarts career, thanks to some upperclassmen, how to get out of his head about everything. so those that knew him early, might've remembered his quieter era, but come late second year onward, ant had become both a relaxed individual and someone constantly placing himself into trouble. funny how occupying your thoughts with escape routes and a mary jane haze affected things.

likely absentmindedly, the hufflepuff found himself drawn to activities more muggle, less magic. he liked plants because it reminded him of his mother's garden, (and other reasons). he picked up skateboarding from his neighbor, now prone to skate through the hallways, travelling from class to class. and most of his tattoos were even muggle, save the frog— that one he gotten magic'ed on after losing some stupid bet. funny, he didn't even remember what it'd been about now, yet the frog was there, and would remain.

with the incoming war, it's not that ant doesn't believe it's happening, it's that he'd like to forget it is. like, fuck, merlin forbid he's allowed to have some time to enjoy himself (especially if dying is supposedly on the table). and clearly none of them were safe if harry potter was one of the first casualties. he'd been fortunate enough to not have been in the stands at the time, having dipped during the long wait to take a fews puffs in a dark corner under the structure. in fact, he didn't understand what had happened until hours later in the common room. he thought he misheard, that the weed had tangled things but... no. three guesses what he did after that. it's why ant is the person to go to if you need an escape. he's in his twenties, he wants to act and exist like he's in his twenties. he didn't remember signing up for a war when he came to school.

came into hogwarts pet-less, but was graced by the cat distribution system. really, he's not sure who could have lost their cat with everyone around, especially with the posters he'd posted to follow, but somehow, that ginger cat wound up in his dormitory, on his bed for some reason that one tuesday morning. And he just never left. elmer continues to be a loving pain in his ass to this day.

operates mostly on a 'why not' mentality, which is what led to him on the quidditch team as a beater. it's not something he wants to pursue professionally, something he hardly takes seriously at this level, but his buddy needed a partner and ant was always the sort to answer the call.

seriously, he'll try and fail right alongside you. not one of his friends ends up in detention alone without him. and injuries? if not earned by him solely, you bet he's matching. he goes along with things, as if he's got something to make up for.

… as usual...... still figuring out more cause he's a new muse. any gaps/questions, feel free to ask!!

general connection ideas: best friends, friends, ex-friends, pseudo siblings, childhood/family friends, classmates, stoner buddies, party friends, flirtationship, exes, fwb, one night stand, one-sided crush, old crush, enemy, annoyance, good influence, skateboarding friends, his sister's friends/exes/connections, extended fam… others that i cannot think of

[ PINTEREST ]

[bigbugmonsters]

Day 11 True monster (not knowing what it meant, I just chose Vampire) and day 12 Insect.. Part 1. Lots of guys already but there's even more to come soon.

First one is my kinksona. Feeder vâmpire man. And yes I'm not 'big' at all. Sorry.

Second is Camil, a character I've had for years and went through many redesigns but kept the same concept- he's a vampire that meets a feeder that works at an hospital, and gives blood bags for him to snack on... He quickly gets hooked on them and gets big pretty much immediately.

First bug is the bee king. He's the 'queen' of a whole beehive that works to create as much honey as possible for him to feast on. His tts may look like stingers but they're not actually that.

Second bug is Gael and he's the bee king's boyfriend, but they have an open relationship. Gael being an honeypot guy, he gorges himself on honey as much as he can, and 'feeds' other bugs by kissing them and letting them press his abdomen(s) to squeeze the honey out of him.

Third one is the mosquito king. Normally mosquitos take blood meals only to lay eggs, but this member of a powerful family decided to drink blood without ever laying eggs. He loves the feeling of his sloshy gut full of blood. He was going to leave it at that, until he meets you/reader, that lets him take a non lethal amount of blood from them to feed on. At first he's pretty much using you/reader, but as he grows bigger with each meal, he starts to appreciate them more and more. He's not nice by any means, but he's definitely less... Unpleasant.

Fourth has a clear inspiration from a certain pocket monstr but... I like it okay? This guy's Brooklyn and he eats nothing but fast food and take-out. He walks around the city he lives in and takes as much food as he can afford for him to feast on. What would happen if someone else could afford more food for him to eat?

Fifth might be familiar to some- he's my trucker au repurposed into an oc. His name's Jackson and he loves anything greasy. While his truck travels are part of his job, his many stops at food stores certainly isn't. He's not particularly nice but the fuller he gets, the more he's open to talking. His belly often presses against his truck's steering wheel.

Sixth is an old character, his name's Dan and despite being a caterpillar, rest assured, he's an adult. He just chose to never turn into a butterfly, choosing instead to continue eating as much as he can. He doesn't care about the added weight he gains. He doesn't even seem to notice it.

Last is Cory, he's a model that poses for things like ads and photography alike. He tends to pose naked, and wear little clothing even outside. He's not exactly a gainer but he isn't against growing bigger either, he just does it at a slower pace. He decides to gain only when he's bored of his current weight.

[f1]

Perez passes Leclerc for sprint race win Verstappen third in damaged car | 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix

Sergio Perez https://www.racefans.net/wp-admin/post.php?post=504479&action=editSergio Perez took victory in the sprint race for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix after overtaking Charles Leclerc mid-way through the race and pulling away from the Ferrari driver. The Red Bull driver used DRS to pass Leclerc for the lead along the pit straight and then gradually opened up the gap to win by four seconds. Leclerc held off Max Verstappen for second place after the Red Bull driver suffered damaged from opening lap contact with George Russell. Leclerc lined up on pole position for the first sprint race of the season and when the lights went out the Ferrari leapt out into the lead of the race with Perez settling into second place behind. Verstappen came under pressure from George Russell behind with the Mercedes driver pulling ahead of the Red Bull on the run to turn three. Back in the pack, Yuki Tsunoda struck the barrier at the kink of turn 13, losing the tyre from his wheel. As the AlphaTauri recovered to the pits with damage, the Virtual Safety Car was deployed with the remains of Tsunoda’s tyre on the circuit on the entrance of turn 16. Tsunoda pitted and rejoined with his car still clearly damaged from his collision with the wall, earning an investigation from the stewards after the race for being released in an unsafe condition. With drivers complaining of debris on the track, the Virtual Safety Car was upgraded to a full Safety Car. The race restarted at the end of lap five, with Leclerc leading the field away from Perez, Russell and Verstappen. Russell was easily passed by Verstappen at the restart, the Red Bull diving to the inside into the first corner to move back into third. At the end of the first green flag lap, DRS was enabled for the first time in the race. Perez quickly began to put Leclerc under pressure out front and managed to slip by the Ferrari into the lead at the start of lap eight, before soon pulling clear of DRS range of the chasing Ferrari. Leclerc kept Perez’s lead to around a second until the leader began picking up the pace with around five laps remaining, building up his advantage to over three seconds. Verstappen pursued the Ferrari ahead of him, but despite sitting within a second of Leclerc he never got close enough to attempt a pass. Perez continued to eke out his advantage and ticked off the remaining laps to secure the victory by just over four seconds at the chequered flag. Leclerc finished six tenths of a second ahead of Verstappen in second place, with Russell a further three seconds behind in fourth. Carlos Sainz Jnr finished in fifth, ahead of Alonso, Hamilton and Lance Stroll claiming the final point in eighth place. Alexander Albon just missed out on points in ninth with Oscar Piastri completing the top ten. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/