#i have no idea where i'm going with this i am throwing spaghetti at a wall here

[notquiteaghost]

People can’t come back from the dead.

It’s not a place you can go, death. There’s no bridge to cross, no river to ford, no gate to open – moving from one place to another requires a path and a body to walk it and a light to see by, and death takes all three. I know this. Everyone knows this.

"You have done my kin a great service," the Lady says, in her voice like wind rustling through leaves. "I will give you a gift, in return."

I had expected as much. She won’t let me leave her lands with a debt unpaid, and she can’t hold me here however much she would like to.

Not that it’s beyond her, mind you. It would just be politically problematic.

"I thank you for your generosity," I say, polite, and don’t dare wonder what she might see fit to give me. A gift, I know, is only as good as the giver’s knowledge of you, and I have taken great pains to ensure the Lady knows very little of me.

I hope, distant, small, that she won’t remake any of me.

She curves up her lips at the corners, doesn’t bare her teeth, and waves a hand. A gateway opens, nearer to me than to her, and something steps through. Someone? Tall and thin, bipedal, plain dark clothes, hearth-warm and alive, sharp dark eyes, face I see in my sleep, alive, alive–

I swallow, and make myself look at the Lady. "What is this?"

She tilts her head, bird-like, hunter-like. "Do you reject my gift?"

Questioning her is not wise. Walking into her lands was not wise – Leaving my home, such as it is, for anything other than the necessities isn’t wise. I have never lost the knack of weighing the costs. I know full well what I do.

I keep going. I get up, I keep going, I wear smooth and safe the path for anyone who comes after.

"I accept your gift," I tell her. "Your debt is paid." The weight of my words rings, metal pulled from the heat and struck sure. She nods her head, just once, and becomes small and winged – a sparrow, with a long tail and a hooked beak – and takes her leave.

We are alone in the clearing. It makes more sense, now, that the Lady met me here, in the gatewoods, with no guards. I have heard nothing of her giving impossible gifts. I wonder who else would necessitate such a show of power.

Bel looks just as I remember them.

That is, I think, the shirt they were wearing. The hole is gone, as if never there.

They’re looking at me. The gateway closed behind them, and the clearing is quiet, and for all I have dreamt of this moment I cannot think of a single thing to say.

"Hey," they say, soft. "Where are we?"

They’re looking at me with concern. I am far beyond knowing what my face is doing.

"Old realm," I say, somehow. "Oak and holly. Hill folk, mostly. Not many travellers."

"Why are we here?"

"There was a–" I trip over a word I haven’t used in years. I don’t say it. "There was a beast. I– made peace. Helped make peace. You–" Oh, the crease above their nose, how did I forget it, all the lines of their face I’ve spent so long tracing. "What do you remember?"

Their frown deepens. "You were here for a job?" I nod, once, and they glance around, look me over. "We should leave, then."

My pack rests on my shoulder, and we’re standing in the gatewoods. It’s not a difficult conclusion to draw. It hits me, anyway, like a blow. Their assessment of the situation; how much I still trust it.

I take a breath, and pull open a gateway. There’s no wards, not here – the Lady has other means of preventing an exit. No need to lock the door when it sits so high in the wall, so far from the floor. Bel hums, some suspicion confirmed, and waits for me to step through first.

[breaddwoo]

-Bloody Kisses-

pairing: wednesday x vamp! reader

word count: 3.22k

warnings: slight nsfw, blood

desc: wednesday helps you with your blood deficiency and becomes addicted to the pain of your bite :)

a/n: lowkey erotic despite there being nothing sexual 😭😭 will probably write a pt 2!!

edit: pt 2 is out :)

tonight was like any night for wednesday; pitch black gear on to help camouflage her in the dead of night, hoping to once again get a glimpse of the hyde.

what she didn't expect was to watch a girl tumble limply down the incline that wednesday took shelter at the bottom of.

she heard a few coughs, painful ones that sounded full of death. coughs like those came from people close to hades' door.

in her intrigue, wednesday couldn't help but lift from her hiding spot and slowly trek towards the girl laying face down in the fallen autumn leaves. she knelt, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to flip her upright.

who she saw was someone she recognized to be one of enid's closest friends. from enid's stories, her name is (y/n) and she happened to be part of the vampire division of the school.

wednesday noticed your eyelids begin to flutter with consciousness and she took a step back.

when you fully opened them, it took you a second to recognize where you were. taking in your surroundings, wednesday's attentive gaze smothered you.

your arms began to lift you from the ground, but they went limp and you collapsed into the leaves once more.

"you look awful," wednesday said in her monotone voice.

you looked up to her, eye twitching with pain, "gee, thanks."

"i suppose you're (y/n)."

"and i suppose you're wednesday addams," you retorted, a painful coughing fit following soon after.

"how come you're in this state?" she questioned. it almost sounded like concern, but you knew enough from enid that wednesday doesn't feel emotions like that.

you let out a self-pitying laugh, "i can't ingest the animal blood offered at school. i always throw it up, no matter how hard i try. i'm dying and i can't tell anyone."

"are you not already dead?"

her insensitivity was astounding.

"my bad for not using the correct terminology," you spat, another coughing fit taking over your lungs and causing you to clench the soil beneath.

as wednesday watched your life drain from your weak body, an idea dug itself into her thoughts. "is it human blood that you desire?"

you looked at her like she was stupid. the expression on your face was answer enough, so she continued, "i will give you some of mine."

now your pale face was dumbstruck. is this bitch crazy?

"why the fuck would you want to do that?" you asked, thinking her suggestion was absolute nonsense.

"to say that i am curious about the feeling of a vampire bite would be a... crude understatement," she replied, her eyes the color of the sky above, omitting the stars.

you shook your head defiantly, "absolutely not. i don't think i could control myself, i might just suck you dry."

wednesday's mouth twitched, restraining a masochistic smile.

"do you really have a choice, (y/n)? "

you looked down at yourself. your throat felt like hell fire and every single limb held an unbearable ache. you were treading a thin line between immortality and mortality, and that scared you.

running a hand through your hair, you gazed back up at her, "fine. we do this once, and i will owe you. just please, please don't tell anyone. i'm afraid everyone will believe i'll go ballistic without blood and i'll get expelled."

wednesday nodded and slowly sat beside you, her small frame accentuated by the moon light behind her. getting a better look, you could tell how pretty she was. enid never mentioned that.

"what is it that you need me to do?"

you looked at her, examining what she was wearing. a black spaghetti strap dress that zipped from behind with a long sleeved turtle neck beneath.

realizing what you were about to say, your face began to warm, "uhm- you'll need to uh, to removed the turtle neck under your dress."

she nodded, then said, "it would be easier if you would unzip the dress for me."

how she kept a calm, emotionless expression on her face was beyond you. having this much contact with someone you've only heard about through stories made your face flush red.

after unzipping her dress, wednesday didn't even hesitate to pull the turtle neck over her head. this exposed most of her bare, pale back and the inky lace bra that her clothes had hidden. you were intensely mortified.

"w-wait, are you okay with me seeing this? i-" your words of embarrassment were cut short by more hacking, this time with a string of blood down the side of your mouth.

"i am fine," she stated, moving the dress back up and concealing her bra once more. now her shoulders and neck were fully exposed. your mouth practically flooded with saliva at the thought of piercing the smooth skin with your fangs.

"(y/n), " she said, this time with a little force in her tone, "do it. i want you to."

these words made your chest tighten. you tried to breathe a little more steady, "okay."

scooting closer to her, you moved one of her black braids from the left side of her neck to let it hang behind her. you took her bare shoulders in your hands, leaning close to the skin of her exposed neck.

though you felt awful for what you were about to do, you also felt completely exhilarated.

and, surprisingly, so did wednesday. the way you gently caressed her as your warm breath tickled the skin about to be pierced; it had her mind tangling in knots that she couldn't be bothered to unravel.

the prick of pain that followed the penetration of your teeth made wednesday's entire body shiver. she was hyper aware of the blood draining from the spot you assaulted but the feeling was intensely pleasing.

she felt warm. then she felt cold. her shoulder went fuzzy, like it no longer blonged to her. then her mind floated in a euphoria she'd never experienced before; the pain was like a bruise she enjoyed pressing on.

you also felt incredible. with each second that passed by, it felt like life was entering your body once more. the liquid vitality that you consumed almost made your still heart beat again.

you loved the feeling. you wanted to drink. you wanted all of it, all of her. but in the back of your mind, a small voice screamed at you to stop. the voice got louder until you forced yourself to pull away.

a small stream of blood dripped to wednesday's collarbone. "you can lick it," she said in a monotone voice laced with need. you shook your head, wiping your mouth.

wednesday couldn't wrap her head around the euphoric feeling that your bite had inflicted on her; all she knew was that she wanted to experience it again.

with your fangs on full view, color returned to your face and a body back to it's original state, you looked like a whole new person. this thought set a fire ablaze in her stomach and she couldn't tell if she enjoyed it or not.

her arms felt like wet noodles. she tried to lift them, attempting to put her garment back on; it was to no avail.

you saw this, "i'm sorry, i drank too much. let me help you."

as you went to help her, she fell backwards onto your lap. eyes widening in concern, you lean close to check her complexion, "wednesday, are you okay? i'm sorry, i really should have restrained myself. "

"no," she shook her head adamantly, "i requested this. and it's not like being in this state is unenjoyable."

you pressed your lips together in a line full of judgement, but said nothing. after her clothes were placed back on her, she tried to lift herself off of you.

"wait, wait- trust me, if you can't put your own clothes on then you can't stand by yourself," you said with care, standing and placing her arm around your shoulders.

the walk back to nevermore was quiet. neither of you spoke a word, wednesday too light headed from the painful pleasure of your teeth. she even forgot what she had been doing outside in the first place.

when you arrived at her dorm, she was still weak and needed support. wednesday held a finger to her lips. her dead eyes motioned to the door. you knew that enid was inside, and hopefully, she was asleep.

with the door unlocked, you assisted wednesday to her bed. when you went to set her down, however, you tripped on the corner of her bedsheets that hung to the floor.

wednesday's eyes widened in surprise as you came crashing down on top of her. chest to chest, the details of her face were in close proximity. you could practically trace patterns in her constellation of freckles.

shuffling and the sound of a comforter moving came from the other side of the room. enid.

wednesday's arms encircled you as she pressed you closer to her chest, forcing your head to hide in the crook of her neck.

your face was practically on fire. this is so not how tonight was supposed to go.

"shhh," she whispered, completely unfazed. you could tell she was being cautious of her sleeping roommate.

as her soft, black hair began to tickle your nose, she released you. you quickly backed away from her, making sure you stayed quiet.

"thank you," you whisper. she gives you a slightly perplexed expression in response.

tiptoeing to the door, you open it. looking behind one last time, you notice that wednesday has situated herself into a more comfortable position. you waved at her, and close the door without a sound.

wednesday lay there, mind recounting the events of the night. she tried to cipher through them, but one thought continued to surface through the rest:

she smells like vanilla.

> > >

wednesday wanted to see you again. it seemed like every time she caught a glimpse of you in the hallway, you soon disappeared as if you hadn't been there.

it was starting to frustrate her. were you avoiding her?

the thought made her grind her teeth; it also made her insanely confused. normally, she would prefer that people avoided her. but with you, it just made her want to scratch at her skin.

finally, during lunch period a week later, she saw you sitting with enid and her group. wednesday contemplated whether or not it would be a good idea to go up to you; she had promised to keep the ordeal a secret. no one knew the two had any connection to one another.

her heart outweighed her brain in the end and she stepped into the maze of lunch tables.

"(y/n)," she called. the words you were speaking to enid dropped from your mouth when you noticed the girl in black next to you.

you smiled, fangs displayed, "oh, uh- hey, wednesday."

wednesday's eyes turned to where your tray should be, noticing that you had nothing to eat.

"i need to talk to you," she stated, "in private."

enid raised a brow, trying to subtly ask her why? but wednesday pretended to be ignorant; though, she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid an interrogation later.

you awkwardly laughed, giving a strained smile, "sure."

when wednesday lead you to a deserted hallway, her expression changed into a slightly angry one.

"are you avoiding me?" she asked bravely. you were surprised.

"well, we're not friends so i didn't think we needed to see one another."

the answer irritated her.

she tried to restrain her snarkiness, "i see you're still avoiding the animal blood."

you nodded, afraid of where this was going. it's not like you didn't enjoy what you both did a week ago; it was quite the opposite actually.

every time you thought of her your breath caught in your throat. the image of her bare shoulder basically served on a silver platter plagued your mind. god, avoiding her was awful.

you just knew that if you saw her again, you wouldn't be able to control yourself anymore. the little restraint you had was terrifying.

"so? what do you want?" your words came off a bit harsher than you intended, but you were afraid of her intentions.

she cracked a small smile, but it quickly dissipated as she said, "i want to do it again."

you knew it.

"wednesday, what we did- we can't do it again. i'm not as strong as you think," you tried to explain, "i was able to restrain myself last time. i won't be able to again."

wednesday took a step closer; her cold breath sending a ghostly chill down your spine.

"what if i don't want you to?"

you didn't know what to say. her words were painfully tempting; if you could, you would tear her uniform in the middle of the hallway and consume a waterfall.

you stayed silent for a moment, then cracked, "okay, fine, meet me at my dorm tonight. my roommate has plans so she won't be there."

elation filled wednesday to the brim; if she could scream and jump up and down in excitement she would've. instead, she nodded her head once and said, "see you then," before slipping into the darkness of the empty hallway before her.

you took a seat on a nearby bench, putting your head in your hands.

she really had you wrapped around her finger.

> > >

as you had instructed wednesday later in the day with a slip of your dorm key in her hand, she snuck into your room at the devil's hour.

there she caught you in pajamas, reading a book on your windowsill. she cocked her head a bit. the scene perplexed her.

wednesday had never seen you in casual clothing before; nor did she know that you enjoyed reading. this information was practically useless but it made her feel a closeness to you that felt impossible before.

your room wasn't bright like enid's; there were a few pinups of different artists and a cd collection on a small bookshelf. warm lighting made the room feel comfortable, unlike the white hospital lights that wednesday utilized in her own.

it took you a second to realize wednesday had arrived, quickly placing a bookmark in a page and turning towards her.

"are you sure you want to do this again?" you asked, wanting to reaffirm her consent.

wednesday already began taking off the black cardigan she wore over her tank top, looking at you with eyes that spelled are you daft?

you nodded, socked feet making small thumps on the ground as you walked toward your bed.

you patted the spot to your right. wednesday understood this signal, sitting close enough that her thighs touched your own.

a shaky breath left your throat. you were going to do this. it was too late to back out now; not with wednesday waiting patiently before you.

she pushed the strap of her tank top off her shoulder, leaving it completely naked. then you realized that the position the two of you were in wouldn't make this process comfortable enough.

"wednesday, do you mind- uh, shit, how do i say this," you were practically sweating as you swiveled towards her, legs criss crossed.

she mirrored your movements. her eyes were leveled with yours, patiently waiting for your directions.

"please- fuck, please sit in my lap. it'll give me the best angle so that i don't hurt you too badly."

you swore you saw a little flush spread on her freckled cheeks.

"alright," she agreed, crawling over to you. wednesday put her hands on your shoulders as she placed herself in the divot between your crossed legs. in this position, she was basically straddling you.

shit, isn't this a tad too intimate?

your thoughts were far beyond obsurd considering this was your request. knowing this, you sighed and let your eyes wander to her exposed shoulder.

"you're looking at it as if it's a buffet, you know," wednesday stated. you looked up at her, giving an annoyed face.

"i'm just nervous, geez."

wednesday's icey hand slithered up your back and rested at the nape of your neck. she guided your head closer, encouraging you to feast.

"do it," she whispered, her breath tickling your ear. by now, any self-discipline you tried to scrounge up had long vanished.

you leaned in. licking the chosen spot on her neck for a second, wednesday shuddered under your touch.

when you let your teeth puncture the virgin skin, you couldn't help but wrap her in your arms as you gripped her back.

wednesday let her head fall back, closing her eyes. the painful ecstasy was hers once again. this time felt different, though.

this time it was more than just the fangs deep in her skin; it was you, holding her tight as the familiar fragrance of vanilla washed over her senses. pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin and wednesday felt light headed as she experienced both at once.

your fingers found their way under her tank top, wanting to grab at more than fabric. the taste of her blood made the world turn to static. your ears went deaf and all you could focus on was the girl in your lap and the way her jet black hair brushed against your face.

this act was like a drug administering the same affect on both addicts. you felt drunk and as your teeth sunk further in her shoulder, so did wednesday.

with her abdomen against yours, there was no room for you to get closer. when you pulled away, wednesday looked at you with her eyes half-lidded.

your mind was in a fog as you gazed at her. with the taste of blood still afflicting your tongue, your only thought was how beautiful wednesday looked.

and as she met your inebriated gaze, an overwhelming urge to kiss you took hold of her actions.

she leaned in. despite knowing close to nothing about you and wanting little to do with romance, she wanted you. she wanted you and the painful pleasure you bestowed upon her.

you got swept up in the moment and kissed her back instantly. you squeezed her closer, grazing her lip with your fang. irony blood tainted your lips. the taste left you higher than any drug.

opening her mouth, wednesday deepened the sinful kiss and you reciprocated in full. you felt like you couldn't breath. you didn't want to pull away.

just as wednesday's tongue skimmed your teeth, you pulled away.

deep breaths fogged the cold windows of the small dorm room. you still held her as her dead eyes held something a little more than a dark abyss; something even wednesday couldn't understand.

she wanted to continue, to ask you to bite her again and again and again. it didn't matter if you took all of her; it would be a great headline on a tombstone.

so, once you'd filled your lungs, wednesday stole away the distance of your lips once more.

you fell back, holding her. by now it was far past four in the morning, with school in three hours.

neither of you cared. the bloody kisses were an intoxication full of need; tonight would feel like forever.

[wundrousarts]

Do you think Hawthorne has some sort of connection to Morrigans's wundrous song? I'm not going off on a lot except that the song talks about a son of the morning and that Hawthorne feels like the definition of sunshine. And the fact that Morrigan is an eventide kid and she has something with darkness. (??)

Idk what the song could mean, but maybe it's like a foreshadowing to their dynamic, maybe they'll become enemies or opposites or like kids with a destiny because so far it feels like they're far too buddy buddy. Hawthorne is Morrigan's first friend. And he's her best friend. Like. Help.

Also the song talks about the son of the morning being liked, or well someone who has something good ahead of him, and that reminds me of Hawthorne's promising career in dragon riding. He has a lot ahead of him, and in that snippet of Holliday Wu with Hawthorne she said 'the kids are gonna love him', and I feel like Hawthorne is gonna be super popular and well-liked. (Like maybe that's what the song means with 'up with the sun where the winds are warming', he climbs the social ladder.) Meanwhile Morrigan seems to become more and more unpopular because she's a wundersmith. Like it doesn't matter who Morrigan is, it just matters that she's a wundersmith. And soon she'll go down to where the pale things bite or something. As in she'll be an outcast. Or worse.

But if that's the case, then what could it mean??? What will it lead to?

Can we then connect the two wundrous songs of Morrigan's and Squall's? If Morrigans's song is foreshadowing then what if Squall's song is a warning? Or another foreshadowing? A foreshadowing to what then? Is it a prophecy? Are both prophecies??

Help.

🫠

Oooh this is a great question. I don't think that Morrigan and Hawthorne will find themselves not being friends at any point, because I feel like they've already gone through a lot together and have had each other's backs, so I can't see that ending at any point.

I do love any opportunity to discuss the Nocturne songs though!!

I'm hiding my ramblings on this below the cut, because as a true "spaghetti theorist", I am truly just throwing everything and anything at the wall:

One thing I wonder is if the Morningtide nursery rhyme is derived from Little Crowling, or if both songs are derived from a third same source, or if perhaps they are two songs that existed at the same time. Why does Squall seem to recognize Morrigan's song, and Mog recognize Squall's song?! It haunts me. I wish Wundersmith was adapted so maybe we could hear both songs (because hopefully Little Crowling will be in the movie...?). Maybe as Mog trains with Squall we might learn more!

On Discord awhile ago, I said

they’re not like 1:1 but like “o daughter of night” and “with button black eyes” have the same # of syllables (and are possibly depicting the same thing/idea), and “swoops down into the meadow where the rabbits all hide” and “deep down below where the pale things bite” are similar ideas and maybe even an inversion a bit

and I really think there's something there. Maybe it's playing with who/what is "good" vs "evil"? IDK.

In one of the Garrett interviews (which are my favorite Nevermoor/Jessica Townsend interviews everrrr), there's this bit:

ASTRID: Jessica, back to Ezra Squall. When a Wundersmith calls Wunder they sing something. They sing a tune that means something to them, and we know that Ezra Squall's tune involves the words ‘little crowling, little crowling’. Look, Morrigan Crow. Crow Manor. My question here is obvious. What can you tell me? JESSICA: Actually, I can't tell you anything… but that should give you your answer. ASTRID: Look, I had to try. JESSICA: I can tell you that's a really good intelligent question and it's a good observation. Don't worry, there will be satisfaction there. All I can tell you is that there will be satisfaction.

I hope we learn more about Nocturne songs at some point, because I wonder if Little Crowling has been Squall’s song the whole time, or if it’s a new thing? He calls Mog “little crowling” a few times, so yes there’s definitely a connection there.

You sent this question at a great time because I had asked a question about Nocturne songs during the Q&A and she answered it after you sent this. I asked if there was any reason the Nocturne songs sound similar, or if I was reaching, and (in short) she said:

This is a really good question. I think they probably sound similar because they're both intended to be nursery rhymes. I wrote them as to be nursery rhymes in this world, in Nevermoor. I think you should think about the fact that they both chose nursery rhymes as their songs to call Wunder.

I have many thoughts, but at the same time, it’s so hard to theorize when there’s no info to go off of. I hope we learn more of the verses of Little Crowling at some point— I don’t care if the last verse is too grim to end up in a book!

Some ideas:

— Do Wundersmiths write their own songs? Is this perhaps how Nocturne is mastered?

— Maybe choosing nursery rhymes to summon Wunder could indicate something about their personal relationships with gathering and using Wunder?

—— Are they above Wunder, or below it? Not sure if that's the right wording, but just trying to think about what the dynamic between Wunder and Wundersmith for both Squall and Mog could be.

——— While writing this point I misremembered for a moment and wrote "Summoner and Smith", for which the full phrase is, "Summoned Wunder shows itself to summoner and smith." Are "summoner and smith" both the same person or entity (such as a Wundersmith), as "once it's summoned, any old Wundersmith can see it," or are there people out there that can be a summoner but not a smith, etc.? IDK.

— Maybe Little Crowling is a song encouraging Mog to be evil? We don’t know how long Squall has been keeping tabs on Mog.

— Lots of discussion lately about that one dream and if it could relate to Mog’s mom:

���— Maybe she was singing a song and then Squall sung Little Crowling afterwards

—— Maybe Mog’s mom was singing a happier version of Little Crowling, or it’s a song that Squall twisted.

——— Unrelated: everyone thinks that Mog’s mom must have been nice and caring… imagine if she wasn’t really that kind, LOL

—— I think it would be interesting if Mog’s mom was singing Little Crowling (or a variation of it) because of a reference to a rabbit… perhaps inspired by a certain toy rabbit passed down from mother to daughter? And again the obvious “crowling” and a baby (Morrigan) Crow… 🤔🧐🤨

— Perhaps Little Crowling is an older (anti-?) Wundersmith song. Squall was part of the last generation of Wundersmiths so maybe when he was young people were getting tired of them and the system they are a part of.

—— The “button black eyes” just makes me 🤔 because so far the only two Wundersmiths we know notably have black eyes…

— Also back to rabbits having to stay with their mother to be safe from the crowling… y’know who doesn’t have a mother?? Both Mog and Squall!!

Anyways. I really just took a sliver of your ask and ran with it, lol. We don’t know much about Nocturne songs, especially these particular ones, and I hope we learn more soon. Perhaps by training with Squall, Mog might be able to learn more? More verses and more history and information? I certainly hope so!!

I also have to take a moment to shoutout u/AlexWigg on Reddit, who made these renditions of Morningtide's Child and Little Crowling that I really enjoy.

[frozenjokes]

i continued being unable to sleep so i continued shoving as much of your writing into my brain as possible, by which i mean i just read alllll of the mumbomaid au pretty much at once and am being Normal about it

i love them all, i love all of them so much, i'm very invested in their shenanigans, i love how almost nobody understands gender and they all misunderstand it differently

i am ALSO aro in the "no i don't have feelings for anybody, yes i would date basically any of my friends" way and everything surrounding scar's aromanticism is so well done, i kept being soo exasperated with grian and the like. the incredibly allo misunderstanding of aromanticism, and not listening when scar and cleo try to tell him he doesn't get it, i have friends i've had almost those exact conversations with (but slightly less messy because of varyious factors including but not limited to Not Being Desert Duo, Thank Fuck) just ajfhdjdhjshdjfsk

also also i love textbook monsterfucker scar and i'm convinced bdubs thinks etho grew up in a cult or some shit (i'm throwing words at this ask box like spaghetti)

anyway uh. i'm probably gonna keep wanting to say words about your fics as i keep reading them and the ao3 comment section scares me so. i will probably be back, feel free to tell me to buzz off if this is not a preferred communication method

-guy that said mapleshade=p!scar (maplescar? scarpleshade? there's gotta be something here, did i mention the sleep deprivation sorry if this is all insane rambling lmao)

maplescar is a really cool tortie kitty name I like that a lot. maplescar would go crazy. ALSO PLEASE KEEP SAYING WORDS!!!!! say words FORWVER!!!! spam my ao3 comments and I will respond to them 9/10 ten times!!!!!!! I love talking I love when people talk to me THANK YOU!!!!!! you could send me an ask every single time you finish a chapter and I would kiss you on the lips each time but my followers might be killing you with hammers so. Pick your poison.

yeah my favorite part of mumbomaid is that no one knows what a gender is and they misunderstand in all different ways you put it 100% perfectly. I also find Grian to be frustrating but he’s also a vessel to explore More Feelings and in his defense a little outside of complicated aro/allo interactions scar is a bit of an asshole. They are both assholes. Two guys they Will have their cake and they Will eat it too and they are exploding because of it. I too thank god every day I am not desert duo I! hate them. Generally though I do not feel bitter about allo misunderstandings of aromanticism because I spent 21 years of my life also not understanding. Which. Is the fault of a normative society. However. It is deeply difficult to understand the internal experience of someone who functions differently than you on a chemical level. This is a bit of a tangent but my mom and I’s ability to communicate has been drastically improved by the acceptance that I am autistic. She sees me and we reflect on my life together and it makes Sense that the way I experience the world is Different so whenever we talk about something my mom doesn’t understand in relation to me her mind is so open because she knows my perception of the world is not the same as hers. neurodivergence isn’t entirely related to queerness but it has genuinely opened up so many doors for our communication. she goes aromantic? oh yeah that makes sense. I think she catalogs it with the autism which is correct because to me autism and Every Other Way I Experience The World is related. This is say I have a very amusing experience with one of my trans friends where he was like: …so you’ve never questioned your gender,,, like…. Ever..? and I said nope. and he like couldn’t believe me. He did obviously but it’s the idea that our experiences are so integral to the people we are that it’s extremely difficult to imagine it any other way. can you tell I’m a psych major yet. what was I talking about.

I haven’t thought of exactly what bdubs thinks about etho’s past but it’s probably something like that. Deep down, it doesn’t really matter. Bdubs just wants to protect him. He’s so worried, but he just wants etho to feel safe.

lightly suggestive under the cut bc I talk about the monster fucking a little bit and I don’t know your age/if my elaboration is unwarranted I’m just talking. I’m here for a silly time not a sexy one.

monsterfucker scar is dear to me. extremely important. Grian will never be able to do to him the, frankly, deranged things he fantasizes about. they can try but the mood is going to be ruined when scar is like :( your tentacle dick isn’t real. and Grian is going to sigh with his dumbfuck strap and the blue curtains and lights they hung up to make it look like they were underwater. Their entire experience in the bedroom is going to be a series of extremely comedic extremely unfortunate events to make up for the fact that scar is never getting any fish pussy 😔 scar will be put off the mood because Grian just isn’t Convicning enough like COME ON if I don’t believe I’m going to die THEN what’s THE POINT??????? their home life is just increasingly deranged. grian has accepted that he will never be able to compete with the horrors of the ocean and you may think that’s a ‘but he’s still a little jealous though..’ but he’s not. He’s accepted it. Full acceptance. The kind of worn down you get from fishing for a mending book for weeks on end but without the agony and more just. Amused. goodtimeswithscar is going to die young and by drowning but you’d better believe he’ll do it in ecstasy.

[flufallo]

I can't stop making these now

Niko: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

Crystal : I want a bf.

Crystal : Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.

Crystal : When I find out who you are, I’m going to punch you in the face.

Cat king: Hello friends!

The Squad:

Cat king: You might be wondering why I’m taped to the ceiling

Crystal : If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it

Edwin: If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.

Cat king: I did it! I memorized everything in the book! I'm gonna ace this test!

Esther: Ok, Cat king, I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1916?

Cat king: edwin

Esther: ...You're ready.

(I edited this one obvs)

Cat king, when Charles walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza.

Cat king: *accidentally smacks Edwin in the face with the baking sheet*

Cat king: Never gonna make you cry!

Monty: Never gonna say goodbye!

Cat king: Never gonna tell a lie—

Crystal : I will hurt you.

Edwin: You spent all our money on THIS??

Charles, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Edwin: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

Cat king: *blushes* What are your thoughts?

Edwin: The fourth sentence-

Cat king: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

Edwin: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

Bailiff: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Crystal : No.

Niko: Nice rock.

Charles: Thanks, Jenny gave it to me.

Jenny: I threw it at you!

Charles: Aren't they the sweetest?

Monty: How did none of you hear what I just said?!

Charles: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Jenny: I got distracted halfway through.

Crystal : Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Cat king: As your best friend—

Edwin: Charles is my best friend.

Cat king, holding a knife: As your best friend—

Cat king: *watching their house burn down*

Cat king:

Cat king: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

Charles: Well, I'm very sorry to hear about your mother.

Monty: Mmm, we aren't really that close.

Charles: Oh, good.

Monty: What did you get Niko for their birthday?

Charles: I got them a kitten.

Monty: Really? Me too!

Crystal : I also got them a cat.

Edwin: Looks like we had the same idea.

Charles: Cat king, please tell me you didn't get Niko a cat as well!

Cat king: ...what do you think?

*later*

Niko, in their apartment surrounded by cats and kittens: This is the best birthday ever!

Edwin, setting down a card: Ace of spades.

Crystal, pulling out an Uno card: +4.

Charles, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you!

Niko, trembling: What are we playing?!

Edwin: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Monty: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Edwin: But you’re always acting stupid?

Monty: ...

Monty: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

Niko: Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, but I am also in the house tonight.

Crystal : But are you shuffling?

Niko: Everyday.

Edwin: What language are you two speaking??

Cat king, holding a toy lightsaber: I’m Darth Vader!

Edwin: I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.

Monty: Niko, what are you doing?

Niko: *shaking a cat shaped piggy bank* I’m just trying to figure out how much change I have inside.

Monty: You could always take it out and count it.

Niko: Where’s the fun in that?

Cat king: Hey.

Edwin: Hey?

Cat king: I can't sleep. :/

Edwin: I can. Goodnight.

Niko: I can’t believe my birth certificate says F...

Niko: ...How did I fail being born?

Niko: The only thing I'm guilty of is being adorable... ...and also assault with a deadly weapon.

Charles: Edwin, I got suspended from school…

Edwin: WHAT?!?! What did you do?

Charles: My teacher pointed at me with a ruler, and he said “there is an idiot at the end of this ruler”.

Edwin: And…?

Charles: I asked which end…

Edwin, unable to contain their laughter: Okay, you just made my day.

Charles, working at McDonald's: Sorry sir, we don't serve a McFuck here, so either you throw that one slice of pickle out or we're gonna have a McProblem.

Crystal : *trying to get five seconds of sleep*

Charles, poking Crystal ’s arm: Crystal Crystal . Crystal . Crystal .

Crystal : WHAT?

Charles: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Edwin, to Charles: You're starting to forget your Spanish. You don't practice.

Charles: Lo siento. Estoy embarazada.

Edwin: You just told me you're pregnant.

Niko : Congratulations Charles, you're glowing!

Cat king: I just ended a five year relationship.

Niko: Oh no, are you okay?

Cat king: It's okay, it wasn't mine.

Niko : I was voted “friendliest classmate” in high school.

Charles: I was voted “most likely to become a clown”…

Cat king : You think that’s bad? HA! I was voted “most likely to get rabies”!

Edwin, playing a video game: How do I play?

*Edwin has drawn first blood!*

*Edwin is on a killing spree!*

*Edwin is on a rampage!*

*Edwin is unstoppable!*

*Edwin is dominating!*

*Edwin is godlike!*

Edwin: Don’t worry guys, I figured it out.

[dotthings]

Here's the thing. While it's great to encourage an environment where different approaches and nuanced variances on the canon are welcomed and prompt more discussion, there comes a point where chronic negative misreadings set in, and it becomes an echo chamber. Projections. Bad faith readings. People unable to discern themselves from the characters' pov. People unable to discern between their fears on what the character's intentions/motivations are vs the character's intentions/motivations. Not all of this is on purpose. But there are some truly nihilistic, chronically negative takes, and bad faith takes, and this is something that has eaten the fandom since the beginning of the show. I'm referring here to something different than people getting pissed at a particular episode or arc--spn is imperfect and sometimes it is an aggravating text. There has to be room for criticism, and space made for people to disagree.

But room for criticism and space to disagree doesn't mean having to throw the doors wide open to every chronic bad faith, nihilistic, or highly negative reading that comes along.

There is such a thing as a canon and throwing spaghetti at the wall, and protecting it under the idea of "interpretation," when that is protecting chronically negative, worst faith readings heavily based in projections, isn't how media discussion actually should work. It gets to the point where certain chronic uncharitable readings get popularized and it results in a miserable environment where anyone who sees it differently gets driven out of fandom space after fandom space just for not hating the way others hate. It's not joyful. It's stressful.

It's not about Dabb era. It's not about S15. It's not about The Trap. It's that I've had to see this in spn fandom over and over and it's been there since Kripke era.

Just pulling out one example. The discussions over The Trap. Most takes, chronically, since that ep aired, have tipped over into either far too blaming about Dean, or far too blaming about Cas. I'm not sure which character has in fact gotten the worst most chronic unjust reading, I just know I've witnessed it in stereo, from the Cas stan side against Dean, from the Dean stan side against Cas.

It's nails on a chalkboard reading some of those takes. It was back when those seasons were airing and it is now, 4 years after spn has ended. It's a record scratch on the canon song, over and over and over. It's chronic.

And it is wrong. I'm just going to say it. Both sides have been wrong. And they are wronging both Dean and Cas and they are wronging the story told by a whole team of writers who cared about the story and the characters. I actually don't care that much what people think of me. I do have a right to assert myself there, and defend myself, but that isn't what this is about at the core.

I can't just shake this off.

Dean and Cas both deserve better and the story deserves better. They're both deeply complex characters, neither is a villain, neither is [insert whatever bad faith unfairly harsh distortion of their canon selves one side or the other tripled down in clinging to this time].

I have to triple underline how CHRONIC THIS IS. (Not just on Dean and Cas).

It's been in every era of SPN.

But right now late SPN is still a hot topic, it's the most recent, its ramifications are still rippling, it comes up most often in my orbit and pocket of fandom.

I am consciously trying to keep my own bitterness about the "antidabbnatural" chronic takes contained so it doesn't distract from the actual reasons I'm here and what I want to focus on, but sometimes it is really hard, it's like I'm never going to escape from it, and like, of course, people are allowed to be angry, at the characters or the creative decisions, but at a certain point it tips over into chronically nihilistic negative hot takes that leaves little room for anything else.

Maybe people who came in late also don't know just how bad it got during the airings of those final seasons, how much hatred there was, how many attacks there were on good faith meta writers.

I don't have spoons for it any more, so I insulate myself and curate really strictly. Even with all my curating, it's not enough. It's a cycle that's inescapable.

Can't do anything about what other people do or what their takes are on the canon, this isn't a tone police or oppressing people or saying they can't post whatever the heck they want. I'm saying I'm allowed to have feelings about it and react to chronically negative takes.

I also am fed up with people having to apologize for liking S12-15.

Anyone who doesn't like that I actually appreciate the work of the writers room and the end results that wound up on screen, that I don't hate that era, that I've had my own grievances with it, but also have with Carver era, Gamble era, Kripke era, is just going to have to cope.

And let me make this completely clear: Dean is my favorite. He's been my favorite since episode 1 aired. Dean's been the character whose pov I consider first since the beginning. That doesn't mean I don't relate to or feel for Sam or Cas's pov, this is me being realistic and honest about being a Dean fan--not in the sense that I only care about Dean, in the sense that Dean has been my heart center of this show, and the most dominant lens of my entry point into the story. Not the sole entry point. But my heart center. I've been an spn fan for almost 20 years. Dean is my very favorite. That doesn't mean I have to throw other characters under a bus and capitulate to what bitter Dean stans think I should capitulate to.

And one of the reasons I like the final seasons is Dean's arc.

It is because of Dean. It's not despite how Dean was treated, I like it anyway. It's because of Dean. Because of his storyline. Because of the compassionate, painful arc the canon took him through.

I have seen "antidabbnaturals" go off on why they hate those seasons and they shout about how Dean was portrayed, treated, and depicted, and it puts flames on the side of my face because they are being reductive and insulting. Not the canon. Stans. Or it's Dean stans or it's Cas stans, going on another bashfest against Cas or against Dean.

But I want to make this absolutely clear, my so-called "apologism" for those seasons isn't about Destiel. It's because Dean's story, most of all, that I find it compelling. There are things I wished had been done better, or more completely, things that got short-changed. Mostly that concerns the ending, and I'm also not saying there are no problems at all. But I'm absolutely exhausted from seeing Dean's arc attacked by "Dean stans" and I'm exhausted from the cycles of Dean bashing or Cas bashing and exhausted from writing/episodes I really love being ripped to shreds, chronically. Non-stop.

It went on for four seasons in a row of non-stop hate and 4 years after spn ended I recently got a reminder it's all still out there. It's not that everyone involved was being that chronic or that hateful, but there's always an inevitable chain reaction and it brought the old hatred to the yard. I had to block more accounts. I'm just so done with it.

Anyway, this is my personal perspective. What people do with it isn't my problem. But I really needed to say it.

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52424179/chapters/132621133

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks/735068803984228352/part-1?source=share

Part 3 below:

. . . . .

"Loki?," Mobius called out again. God, he hopes this will work. After a lot of planning at the TVA, the gang decided the first step was to get Mobius back out there. The hypothesis being that Mobius being on a timeline somehow allowed Loki to contact him.

Whether it was because Loki couldn't reach the TVA or couldn't find it at all was an unknown among millions. But living in uncertainty comes with the job when dealing with time and alternate dimensions.

Either way, if Loki could hear Mobius right now, he better be trying to say something back. Mobius thinks this to himself, trying not to let the concern-disguised-as-annoyance show through too much.

Just as he took another breath to call out again, he felt an odd hum in his ears. It started off as just a vibration. He couldn't tell if it was meant to be a sound or not. He couldn't tell what it was meant to be at all, frankly. But soon the sound evened out into a whisper of his name in a voice so familiar, it made his eyebrows shoot up and his head shoot around to look for his friend.

"Loki! I heard you! Where are you?"

Faintly, Loki whispered back, "I'm still...with...the branches." There was no physical strain in his voice, but rather, it sounded like he had to concentrate very hard on saying the words he needed to say. "It's difficult...to focus on anything...but...the branches. It's getting better. Though, it will...it will take time for me to better control it."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Casey thought something like that was going on. Was that why you hadn't contacted us earlier? You couldn't divert your attention from the branches yet? Or could you just not see us in the TVA."

"No, I can't see the TVA from here... It doesn't exist on a branch, so... It doesn't exist in the realm I-"

"The realm you're in, yeah, I got it," Mobius finished the sentence for him. He sighed. He wasn't sure asking his next question was a good idea. It's a vague question that usually doesn't get you more than simple and vague answers in return, at least with most people. Not to mention, distracting Loki with unnecessary questions that would likely just lead to more questions that would also distract him, was basically putting the multiverse in jeopardy. But, fuck it. Mobius needs to ask him this. It's been weeks of nothing from or about Loki. He needs to ask this.

"Are you okay?"

Predictably, Loki pauses. "Am I okay?," he asks.

Mobius doesn't roll his eyes. He may look up for a second, but he lowers his eyelids over them, so he's obviously not upset or frustrated. He's not.

"Yes, are you okay!?" he asks again as he starts throwing his hands around to make his words seem more pointed and planned than they are. "I asked if you are okay. You've been basically missing for weeks and we figured you were at least alive since the branches are all still alive and nothing was turning into spaghetti. But we still didn't have any idea what was happening to you. We had no way to reach you, check on you, just fucking talk to you." He huffs out a breath. He lets his hands rest on his hips and his head hang over his chest. He lets another breath out, slower this time. He evens them out and pinches the space between his eyes. Okay.

Maybe he was a little upset and frustrated.

Loki gave him the moment to breathe before speaking. "I am alright. It's oddly...calm here." That pause sounded more like one he would put in normally. "When I first pulled the branches together, I... purposefully sent my magic through them... to bring them back to life.... Not long afterwards, once they were all more or less settled around me,... I could feel them start to pull my magic from me on their own, like a root takes water from the ground.... I was worried it would take what I had and I'd run out of magic and even my own life force to give it. I was worried I wouldn't be enough."

. . . . .

'Why am I telling him all this?' Loki thought to himself. 'I was supposed to explain that the branches are safe, and that I wouldn't be able to contact anyone very often because the whole bloody multiverse needed basically all of my attention or else it'll throw a hissy fit and die again. Then they'd only see one another when absolutely necessary.'

Which was likely never, and Loki knew this. That's why it would be a good plan. Keep Mobius safe and away from all this as much as possible. Away from Loki as much as possible.

...Ah, that would explain why he's spilling his guts out to Mobius. He doesn't want to let go. No one listens to him so attentively as Mobius does. Most people stop really listening to him much after an interaction or two. Even more-so once they got to know him. But that hadn't been the case with Mobius.

"I soon realized that it wasn't just taking energy from me; it was giving energy back. It comes from me, cycles throughout the tree and comes back to get sent out again. It's terribly fascinating. Like sharing blood."

He looks at Mobius. Even though Mobius can't actually see him, he feels safer sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with Mobius than with anyone else. And he takes no greater happiness than when Mobius shows his own to Loki.

Can Loki really expect to be able to stay away?

Can Loki really expect Mobius to stay safe while the God of Mischief and Stories holds him so close?

There's nothing for it. He has to stick to the plan.

Or at least try to.

"Mobius-"

. . . . .

Mobius picks his head up again at the gentle call of his name and immediately feels like an idiot for thinking Loki was right there for him to see. He really needs to pull himself together.

"...Mobius, I am okay. Truly. I am safe and well. The multiverse is safe and well. There is no more need to worry."

"Ha," Mobius scoffs. "Yeah, I know you're okay. I just wish you could be better than okay. I think you more than deserve it at this point. You deserve more than this, Loki."

"That's very kind of you," Loki replies after a moment. Mobius can almost feel his smile from here. The smile that tells Mobius just how much it means to Loki when someone shows they care about him. How much it surprises him. He does appreciate when someone is able to surprise him.

"But how are you," Loki continues. "Have you been 'better than okay,' as you put it?"

Mobius fights another scoff. Loki is trapped in a magical tree for the rest of eternity and he wants to know whether Mobius is okay. Of course he's okay. Except, he realized he had a whole other life that he can't really go back to because he can't remember it, had a disappointing first go on a jet ski, got pruned, got nearly spaghettied, and just generally, has been running around like it's the end of all time and space (which it was) almost non-stop. Not to mention he lost the best friend he's had since Ravonna, and no longer has any idea what he's supposed to do with the rest of the life that suddenly feels like it has a huge empty space in it.

Now, how does he explain all this to Loki without sounding like he's complaining?

"I'm alright. Things got a lot more boring after you were gone, though."

Loki laughs softly, "Most people would call such circumstances 'safe' before calling them 'boring.' However, I must admit, I understand the sort of dismay one can experience when there's nothing interesting going on."

"'Interesting' is one heck of a word to use to describe total annihilation of all existence. But we actually have had plenty to do, tracking the He-Who-Remains variants and making sure they don't cause a catastrophic war or anything."

"Ah."

"Yeah... I was actually mainly talking about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I got used to having more mischief in my life. You got me hooked on it." He may want to pull it back a bit. That's probably a bit much to say right now. "Cubicles and war rooms are pretty scarce on chaos and mayhem."

There was a longer moment where Loki didn't talk. Mobius had a feeling it wasn't because of the difficulty to manage the timelines this time, at least not entirely. He's actually had fewer breaks in his sentences since the start of their conversation, now that Mobius thinks about it.

"Have you thought about where you want to go? What you want to do, if not staying at the TVA?"

"How did you know I was leaving the TVA?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, I caught some of your conversation with Silvie when you were... on your old timeline. I was trying to reach you."

"Okay, so can you see pretty much...everything on the timelines."

"Basically, yes."

"Huh," Mobius is just going to pretend it's not unsettling at all to know it is perfectly possible for powerful beings to know what you're doing without you ever knowing they're there. That sort of thing has already been established as believable as far as a large portion of humanity is concerned, anyway.

"Well, I actually don't know what to do next. I just know the TVA is not the place for me anymore. I tried jet-skiing, but it felt like going for a nice walk with a hole in your sock. It was nice, but there's just something that keeps poking at me like there's something else I need to be doing. The more I think about it, the more I realize I've felt like that for a long time; it was just more subtle."

"The hole in your sock wasn't as prominent."

"Exactly. That and the scenery on the walk was busy enough to keep me distracted more, even if it wasn't as nice to look at."

Loki hummed in consideration.

"Do you still feel that hole in your sock?"

Mobius thought about that. He was still wildly uncertain about what he wanted. He has no plan. Yet, he doesn't feel quite so adrift as he has been.

"I feel like I got new shoes," Mobius replies.

"...new shoes?"

"Yes, new shoes. Ones that are more comfortable than my old ones. It doesn't fix the socks, but something has still improved the situation."

"Ah, I see." He sounded like he did.

How they turned this into a conversation about shoes, Mobius will never know. But it feels nice to talk with someone about things that don't have to make sense again. It's nice to be able to talk to Loki again.

"Mobius, you still have access to a tempad, yes?"

"Yeah...?"

"Is there anywhere you've always wanted to see, in all of time and space?"

His job for the longest time, has been reading about and "protecting" a timeline full of phenomenal places, astounding people, and extraordinary events that he never got to fully experience for himself in a way he could appreciate because it would affect the "sacred" timeline. Of course he has places he's always wanted to see. He's got an endless list. There is literally a library full of the places he wanted to be a part of.

An entire timeline had been tucked away into countless words onto an endless sea of pages, and Mobius has been an avid reader.

"Maybe a few," he answers. "Why?"

Again, the smile comes through Loki's voice. "How'd you like to go for a walk?

. . . . .

Next up part 4/?. Time eludes me. No knowing when it'll be up. I'd be either a terrible time traveler or a great one with how little the passing of time makes itself known to me. If you've been reading this, thank you and I'm sorry. Hope you enjoy :)

[lsdunesarchive]

L.S. Dunes at the 100.3 The X Rocks Acoustic X Session (Boise, ID) | Part 3 | July 31, 2023

Transcript under the cut

Host: Well, it's awesome, and you can tell he loves what he does. I mean, I know he's kind of, a little bit of a prop up with Turnstile and Code Orange, and stuff like that, but it's really great to see him work with you guys as well, and the record sounds fantastic, of course. When you're putting together things like that, of course, everybody talked about how busy they are, is there, when you're preparing music, do you think about, "Okay, this is something that I want to do for L.S. Dunes", or do you have to be in a particular state of mind? Do you compartmentalize that stuff? How does writing work when you have so many different things going on?

Frank: There's no formula, you know? I mean, kind of, the universe will tell you where you need to be, and if you listen to that well enough, you kind of figure out the path. But I think, often times, and this, I don't know, is something that works for me. If I have different projects going, if I hit a wall or I create a block on one, I'II jump to the other projects and, sometimes, that'll open up some doors for me. But, as of right now, I feel like, you know, this is my main creative band, so there's, no, it's not a hard decision, you know?

Anthony: I don't know how it is for everybody, but I, kind of, need to be in a mode of, like, okay, everything I'm doing right now is going to go down to Dunes, like, everything I'm working on is Dunes related, so there's too much stuff going on at all times, so I need to make sure that there's only one thing on my plate to focus on.

Tucker: Besides my family, this is all I think about, so everything is an L.S. Dunes song to me.

Anthony: Yeah, I agree.

Host: Love it. You know, we talked a little bit about how when the band kind of came together, it was a little bit pieces, sometimes you're at different places, putting all this stuff together for some, at least, demo tracks for the album. Now that you're together, you're on the road, do you find yourself coming up with new music and writing together, or...?

Anthony: It's crazy, it's crazy. We had a day-off the other day, Frank and I sat down to figure out a cover song, didn't figure out the cover song, wrote a new idea, and we sort of have been practicing this thing where we get to a point where we have, like, a couple different parts, and a couple melody ideas, and we're able to, like, bank it, put it away and, like, when we're in the mode to work on something further, we can go back to it that way. It's not, like, beaten into the ground, you know, but this is the most creative situation I've ever been involved in with people who are just so anxious... I used the wrong word, but just ready and prepared to always make new music, that's all excited to make new music.

Host: That's awesome! So, I heard Frank tease a second album already, we're talking about, perhaps, future projects in the works?

Frank: Oh yeah, yeah, we have a lot of demos already, probably more songs than a record.

Travis: You know, just sitting around on this tour, we have countless song ideas.

Frank: It's a spaghetti incident.

Tim: Spaghetti sandwich incident.

Host: I am definitely looking forward to more stuff and we would love to hear one more song, if you got any.

Frank: Alright.

Anthony: I'm going to throw up... Okay.

Frank: This one's 2022.

[rahleeyah]

So I read a lot of fic lol and one of the things I find so funny is that authors either write that Liv still can’t cook a thing and still gets takeout for everything or they’ll say she had to learn for Noah’s sake and now she’s actually a decent cook. (And as someone who now lives alone and had to grow up and figure some shit out and has actually gotten pretty good at cooking now if I do say so myself it really isn’t that hard so I’m usually team liv figured out how to use her kitchen for Noah’s sake)

Anyways I always have this head canon (that I’ve never wrote out but maybe I should) that when liv got Noah she got a phone call from Nick’s abuelita who was like “my Nicky tells me you have a baby and you cannot cook anything” 😂 and then Liv goes to her house and learns how to cook. And probably Barba’s mom and Mrs. Carisi teach her some things too cuz I want to believe they shared more time together than could be shown on screen.

Anyways I’m thinking about this mainly because there’s been some fics from Mrs. McCann’s POV and obvs she’s an excellent cook. And that’s not to say liv doesn’t get takeout often I’m sure she still does but I mean she’s also an adult with a child I’m sure she learned how to make some meals😂

You mention food a lot regarding svu and how it was nice in 1.0 when the characters sat down to meals together and how it made them very human which I totally agree with so I was wondering if u had any thoughts?

Have a great day!! Happy L&O Thursday!! ❤️

I love this so much thank you friend!!

So the thing is like. 1.0 Liv doesn't ever cook, it's established there's no food in her fridge, she's always getting delivery. There's a scene early in s13-14 where she is actively trying to cook at home when Nick brings her bad news and she throws her half cooked dinner in the sink, as if she no longer has the strength to keep trying (or as if she no longer thinks she deserves it, but that's another post). By s15 she is throwing dinner parties, of the manic kind (@calliopecantaloupes being of course the expert on the trauma response dinner parties). When Noah is going thru his particularly unbearable phase we see Olivia actually making dinner for him and trying to get him to eat his vegetables.

So my theory is that Liv always knew how to cook in theory, but never spent the time on it in practice. When you're just cooking for one delivery is so fucking easy, and she's barely ever home, why bother? I live alone and I love to cook and I'm pretty good at it and I know a lot about it and I cook once a week on Sundays and heat up leftovers or order in every other night of the week. It's not lack of knowledge that held her back, it was lack of need. She just didn't have to.

Now we know Cassidy cooks, at least a little, and cooking with someone is a special kind of intimacy, and I like to think he taught her some recipes. But then he's gone. But then she has a baby.

And Olivia is devoted to being a Good Mom. She sings to Noah she's working with him on his speech she's buying him all the little toys and outfits and trying so fucking hard. I absolutely think Liv started to cook more - not learn to, bc she already knew how, but started to actually do it - bc she had a child and feeding her child is important emotionally and practically.

But she took the boy to get shake shack this season, she is not above a return to her old ways lol

But I love your thought bc I love the idea of all these older women who are tangentially connected to Liv - Nick's mom even looks after Noah! - taking her under their wing and I love the idea of Noah growing up in this rich and varied quasi family with influences from multiple cultures/traditions, not being any one thing but being deeply loved.

But I do think Elliot can't really cook (beyond one or two set meals like spaghetti or whatever) and if I see one more fic that treats cacio e pepe like it's a fancy complex dish that Elliot "learned" how to cook while he was in Italy I am going to start biting people

[wutheringmights]

I've just found Call Them Brothers and I am so in love with the way you write Warriors, Time, and Wind. The characterizations are all fascinating and they all feel like real, breathing people and it's super impressive. They're definitely my favorite characterizations I've found in any lu fic and I just wanted to say thank you for giving such complex characters such a fascinating and cathartic story.

Also, the way you have crafted the plot together and connected so many different narrative threads into what I can only describe as a gorgeous tapestry is absolutely masterful. You are truly composing one of the greatest and most well put together stories I've ever read. As a writer myself, I feel like I'm learning so much about how to use stylistic choices to better support plot threads. I absolutely adore CTB so thank you very much.

If it's alright, can I ask how you manage all the various plot threads and especially all the political intrigue?

I hope you have a lovely day/evening and thank you so much for Call Them Brothers

Thank you so much! You're really kind and I'm so happy you like CTB so far!! This story has been a big experiment of just throwing stylistic spaghetti at the wall and seeing what happens, so I'm glad you're enjoying it.

I am a proud preacher of the importance of character drama in a story. Any genre or idea or world is carried by the writing for the characters. I have spent a long time honing in on how to write character dramas.

I say that because all of the various plot threads, even the political intrigue ones, are at their core about two or more characters at odds with each other.

Every plot line about the war can be broken down into what Warriors's relationships are with other people, like Spirit, Lincoln, Zelda, Impa, Anders, and more. Typically, each character is a mouthpiece for a specific stance that Warriors opposes. Let them clash, and what is essentially a story about a bunch of people trying to figure out how to fight a war becomes 10 times more intriguing.

I know I wrote a very long post some time about about how I came up with some of the world building stuff concerning the politics, but I can't find it. Here is a quick summary of what I probably said:

Don't be afraid to just use real world politics in your story; my Hyrule is brimming with a lot of the classic Americanisms

Focus on cause and effect; if character X does something, then it should have a ripple effect

Look at other stories about the topic you're writing on; I was pretty familiar with literature and movies about war before writing this story, which certainly helped me in writing about a war

Get everyone's perspectives; I find that a lot of political intrigue focuses on the upper classes, which is why I think the story becomes richer when you look at how all these policies affect the people

For the copious amounts of plot threads... I'm not even sure, pal. All I know is that I established that certain characters are going through stuff and as I write the story, they kind of just do things on their own.

I can talk more about how the present day and the past are worked together:

For purposes of character development and plotting, I considered the past and the present two different stories; thinking them as the same one makes it more complicated than it needs be

I picked a point in both plots where the events had to happen in the same chapter, then paced CTB around it

The past is more thoroughly planned out in the present so that I could reference one in the other without worrying about inconsistencies

Everyone already knows how the past ends, as it ends in the present. That means the two sides of the story will have different types of tension: one where the reader sees the train wreck but can't stop it and one where the reader doesn't know when the crash is happening; understanding they have different types of tension and intrigue and leaning into it will help the plots match up

Everything beyond that I just kinda wing it. Truthfully, I can tell where in the story I shoe'd in a convenient plot point to help move things along. I don't think many people notice where the plot is weak since I try to make everything come off as being on purpose.

So that's my last bit of advice: be confident, especially if this is a genre you're not used to or a project that you think you're not prepared for. Readers can tell when you're scared. I swear that if you just commit and show no fear, your story will appear more put together than it is.

[the-ravenclaw-werewolf]

Thank you so much for this! The quotes and characters fits so well! Let me return the favor!

MCS (WE): (In)Accurate Dialogue

Part 2!

1

Saitama: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity? Kobayashi: *turning to Gojo* How tall are you?

2

Italy: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life. Yuuri: It would be nice to get my sense of purpose back. Fujinuma: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thanks for finding this! Levi: My will to live. I haven’t seen this in 15 years. Saitama: Ha! I knew I lost that potential somewhere! L: Mental stability, my old friend. Italy: … Guys, could you lighten up a little?

3

Mako: What if mayonnaise came in cans? Hanako: That would suck because you can't microwave metal. Senku: Good morning to everybody except these two people.

4

Rin: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait. Soma: You and me!!! Rin, tearing up: Okay.

5

Ciel: Someone will die. Emma: Of fun!

6

Edward, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Haruhi: You did WHAT– Senku: William Snakepeare

7

Iruma: What do you think Hanako will do for a distraction? Tanjiro: He'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do. *Building explodes and several car alarms go off* Tanjiro: ... or he could do that.

8

Langa: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth? Kuroko: You’re a hazard to society Hinata: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

9

Korra: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it. Izuku: Korra no. Zuko: Mistlefoe. Izuku: Please stop encouraging her.

10

Mafuyu: What time is it? Haruka: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out Haruka: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune* Ciel: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING Haruka: It’s 2 am

11

Spike: *Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff* Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB? Gojo: Bold of you to assume I was born at all. U-1146: I personally was created in a lab. Italy: I just straight up spawned.

12

Serinuma: Hah! 69! You know what that means? Mob: What? Saiki: That you're a child. Saitama: HOW'D YOU GUESS MY IQ!?

13

Fujinuma: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people? Yuuri: Plane tickets? Kobayashi: Concert tickets? Gojo: Prostitution? Fujinuma, holding his broken frames: Glasses.

14

Korra: Zuko isn’t answering his phone Izuku: I’ll call Korra: Italy and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi- Zuko: Hello?

15

Edward: Rules are made to be broken. Haruhi: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Hinata: Uh, piñatas. Serinuma: Glow sticks. Rin: Karate boards. Langa: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Edward: Rules. Haruhi:

16

Gojo: Pre broth, is an amazing stage! It's when you're the most alert! Levi: Good, cause some need to be alert tonight.. This "Snake Juice" is basically rat poison. Everybody's wasted. Italy: You don't even know one thing! I didn't even say one thing! And she asks me the whole thing, and I didn't even do it once! Spike: I'm, like, an elephant. Okay? If I walk into a room, it's like 'Okay, he's in there.' Kobayashi: I'm gonna tell you, that... that bitch over there. I'm gonna tell... I don't mean to brag. Fujinuma: Baba-Booey. Saitama: Turn this music down. [singing] Farts and boobs and love and stuff... macaroni salad... Heine: [rapidly speaking gibberish in German] U-1146: [Laughes, coughes, then drinks more snake juice] Yuuri: [wearing a party hat and dancing frantically] Fujinuma: Is this everybody? Levi: Gojo and Spike took a cab. Itay's in the trunk. L's on the roof. Where to first? Kobayashi: Your mother's butt. [everyone laughs except Levi] L: I'm so alone.

Sooo... @the-ravenclaw-werewolf ...

Remember your dialouges...

Well, here's some more! :D

MCS(WE): (In)Accurate Dialouge.

1.

Hinata: I've sent good vibes your way... They're coming. There's nothing you could do to stop them.

Saiki: That is the most threatening way I've been cheered up.

2.

Emma: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three-

Emma and Hinata, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks!

Italy: Our turn! Ready? One, two, three- vanilla!

U-1146, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

3

Korra: I think we're missing something. Izuku: Teamwork? Soma: Cohesion? Zuko: A general sense of what we’re doing?

4

Killua: *Gently taps table* Ciel: *Taps back* Emma: What are they doing? Ryuzaki: Morse code. Killua: *Aggressively taps table* Ciel: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

5

Neagi: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Senku: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Mako: Smad.

6

Tetsuya: If I went missing for a like say a week, do you think you'd be alarmed?

Hinata: I think so?

Tetsuya: Oh that's nice, I didn't think you'd be alarmed.

Hinata: You're my friend.

Tetsuya: ... I don't like how you said that- you said it like you're-

Hinta: You're my friend!

Tetsuya: Wh- Okay stop yelling at me,

Hinata: YOU'RE MY FRIEND!

Tetsuya: AH- OH MY-

Hinata: I WOULD BE CONCERNED IF YOU DISAPPEARED!

7

Store Worker: Would a Spike Spiegel please come to the front desk? Spike, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Hinata and Mafuyu Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Hinata and Mafuyu, simultaneously: We got lost :( Spike: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

8

Ciel: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Emma: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!? Ciel: No! Four to five seconds! Emma: Too late!!!

9

Italy: What is your biggest weakness? Levi: I can be uncooperative. Italy: Okay, can you give me an example? Levi: No.

10

*Spike is standing around the broken coffee maker* Spike: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Tohru: ...I did. I broke it. Spike: No. No you didn't. Hinata? Hinata: Don't look at me. Look at Edward. Soma: What?! I didn't break it. Hinata: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Soma: Because it's sitting right in front of us, and it's broken. Hinata: Suspicious. Soma: No, it's not! Langa: If it matters, probably not, but was the last one to use it. Chika: Liar! I don't even drink that carp! Langa: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? Chika: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Langa! Tohru: Okay, let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Spike-san. Spike: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Zuko: Spike... Korra's been awfully quiet. Korra: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Spike, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand, so I punched it. Spike: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Spike: Spike: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

Dude, this took so long- Especially that last one- dude, I'm gonna weep inside-

[khneltea]

Day 3 - Original

So...About That Jacket...

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Marinette was going to kill him. She was going to murder Adrien "Radiant Carefree Dreamy" Agreste. Say goodbye, world, to the blond sunshine. He was not long for this world, and it was inevitable for it to be shortened because of his actions. She could handle the drama. She could handle the daddy and mommy issues. She could even handle the goddamn leather cat suit.

But this? This was where she drew the line.

"What," she growled, pinning her brother down with her glare and the mop she found in the kitchen, "did you do to the jacket?"

Adrien was cornered. He had nowhere to go. All possible exits were blocked by Marinette, Plagg was preoccupied with two whole wheels of Camembert, and Marinette had that look in her eye. The one promising pain and torture and his anime collection finding itself on eBay before he could even say "spaghetti". What's worse was that Marinette knew she had him on the ropes.

He gulped. "I can explain?"

"Start talking." She leveled the handle to his neck, and his eyes grew frantic. "If you talk fast enough, I might cancel the auction for your PreCure action figure in time."

"You don't mean..." He gasped, covering his mouth with his hands. "Not Cure Twinkle, Go! Princess Precure limited edition! Anyone but her! Take Cure Flora, or Scarlet, but not Twinkle!"

"Then, you better start talking, Agreste."

He cried like a baby after that.

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

"You what?"

"I'm so sorry, Mari! I thought it was one of my jackets."

"It was on my bed. It was in my room. You don't just take stuff out of my room—"

"But we had movie night in your room, and I was in a rush! You know how my professor treats students who are late, even if it was just once!"

"That doesn't mean you get to give the jacket to a random stranger in the street who looked cute!"

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

Marinette flopped on the couch, grabbing onto a discarded throw pillow. "What am I going to do?"

"Can't you just buy him a new jacket?" Adrien suggested, then held up a throw pillow in front of his face. The amount of times a heavy object was hurled at his head by a grumpy or catastrophizing Marinette was enough for him to be fearful of her moods.

She mumbled gibberish into the throw pillow. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that again for me, Mari?"

"I can't." She lifted her head off the pillow to give him a self-loathing glare. "His grandmother made it for him. He told me when we went on that study date."

"Oh." Adrien deflated, not even noticing she called it a date like he had been telling her it was. An idea hit him. "Well, why don't you make one for him? An MDC original, handmade by MDC herself, has got to be worth something, right?"

Marinette opened her mouth to refute it, and closed it, thinking. If she could make it exactly how it was when she got it...

She jumped up, rushing to her bedroom. She needed to research where the hell could she buy flannel from Kansas fast.

As soon as she left the room, Adrien collapsed on the couch. He congratulated himself. He wasn't going to die today. Maybe.

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

Two days and one sleepless night later, she regretted all her decisions. Thank Kwami it was a weekend.

Somehow, she had convinced Kaalki to transport her to a small haberdashery in rural Kansas. The isolated town of Smallville was quaint with its little shops and smiling folks. Vintage cars and retro shops lined the streets, and they even had an old school general store near the center of town. It looked like a place she could imagine herself growing old in, and she would have loved to explore the place more, maybe get one of those famous apple pies Jon kept telling her about, if she hadn't seen the boy himself sitting in the back of an old blue pickup truck the moment she stepped out of the haberdashery.

So, you might ask, what did she do?

Simple. She ducked in between the haberdashery and the laundromat, summoned Kaalki, and portalled out of there in five seconds flat.

That wasn't even the least of her troubles. When she came back to class on Monday, Jon sat next to her like usual. It would have been fine until he mentioned her visit to Smallville. She didn't even realise that he'd seen her.

"Uh— yeah Smallville went— I mean, I went to your Smallville— wait, no that's not right, I wanted to jacket—" She lit up bright red and shoved the box she carried into class at him.

"Oomph!" Jon held the box and furrowed his eyebrows. "What's this?"

She took a deep breath. "So you remember that jacket you lent me when we first met? The flannel one that your grandma made you? Well, my roommate slash brother kinda took it without me knowing and somehow gave it to a stranger, so I made you a new one and it's made of the same materials that your grandma used, at least I think they're made of the same material and I couldn't find the correct buttons so I picked the closest one to it and I'm sosorryagainit'sallmyfault—"

She didn't even know her eyes were closed until she was shocked by a weight falling on her shoulders. The surprise made her jump, hitting Jon on the forehead.

"OUCH!"

They looked at each other, and they laughed at the red forming on their heads. They were a pair of blue-eyed clumsy idiots. But, they were a pair of blue-eyed clumsy idiots together in the same economics course.

Grinning, Jon opened the box, took out the jacket, and put it on, showing off the back to Marinette. "How do I look?"

The MDC original signature fluttered on the collar as he spun around.

"It's perfect." She beamed, clutching her hands close to her heart.

---------

Bloopers:

Adrien nudged her as she ran to the car waiting in front of the campus. "Hey, hey, hey—"

"What do you want?" She hissed, resisting the urge to yank him by the ear. Damn tall genes.

"You might want a stop staring at his neck like that." He wiggled his eyebrows. "He's gonna start thinking you're a vampire, or maybe you've got a neck kink—"

"START WALKING, AGRESTE!"

so i've rewritten this author note at least four times now, so I'm just gonna leave it at the regular greetings. like, reblog, and comment! thanks for @maribat-calendar-events for the wonderful prompts, and everyone have a good day

tag list: (OPEN TAG LIST)

@verymuchimmortalcat @wolfy-kat @jumpingjoy82 @couffeeine

[feathersandfoxtails]

Lost

Pairing: Piraguero/Reader Rating: Explicit (NO MINORS) Warnings: sexy sex, swearing, temperature play, strangers

Words: 3.6K

Summary: On a sweltering NYC day, a piragua seller offers to cool you down, but things heat up instead.

[hi I'm reposting my AO3 fic!]

“Are you lost, Babygirl?”

You aren’t, but in that moment you decide to be.

“A little,” you say.

He lowers his book and eyes you up and down over his reading glasses. “Well, I can help you out.” A half smile crosses his lips and you already know it’s going to be an interesting afternoon.

The piragüero tucks his book into the green cart next to him. Though the air is sweltering, the street is fairly vacant and you wonder why he’s on this corner instead of near one of the many parks in the neighborhood—certainly he’d get more business there.

After he hikes up his cargo shorts, he removes his reading glasses. Held by the neck strap, they fall against his blue striped shirt. “So, where is a pretty girl like you heading today?”

His brown eyes hold you in place for a moment before you respond. “Just trying to stay cool; my office is on the top floor and I just couldn’t stay there any longer.”

He nods. “Que calor. This will help for now, at least.” He starts shaving ice on top of the cart. You watch the muscles in his upper arms flex as he moves and feel new parts of you heating up.

As he puts the shaved ice into a cup, he flashes that playful half smile at you again. “Now, what flavor?”

You raise one eyebrow. “You tell me.”

His eyebrow matches yours. “Hmm… coco, perhaps? Or guava for a sweet girl?” He places a hand on his fanny pack as he peruses his flavor bottles. “Maybe you’re a little tamarindo or limón? Wait… I know…” He reaches for a far bottle. “Parcha.” He pours the syrup from a height you think it impossible for him not to spill everywhere, but every drop lands in the cup.

When he holds out the cup to you, you let your fingers rest around his. His hand stays there as you stare at each other. You say, “My Spanish isn’t great; what’s parcha?”

He licks his lips and lets go of the cup. “Taste it first.”

You bring the pyramid shaped treat near your mouth and slowly let your tongue touch it. Then you put the tip into your lips and suck, all while holding the piragüero’s gaze. As he watches you, his lips are slightly parted and you can hear his breathing speed up. When the syrup meets your taste buds, it’s a delightful mix of sweet and tangy. You close your eyes a moment to savor it, the slightest moan coming from you.

“Passion fruit,” he whispers.

“Just what I needed today.” You take another mouthful.

“I’m good at my job, Babygirl.” He takes a step towards you. “And many other things.”

As you slowly eat your piragua, he leans back and watches you. Just as you let him take in the sight of you, you let your eyes roam over him. You have a thing for dad bods.

“Cooling down now?” he asks as you finish.

“Hmm…. Only a little.”

His eyes follow as a drop of sweat meanders down from your temple to your jaw line. Then he turns and scrapes a little ice from the large block. “Turn around.”

You have no idea what he’s up to, but you obey. After a few seconds you feel a shock of cold on the back of your neck and gasp. He’s holding a handful of ice against you; it quickly starts melting against your skin.

“How about now?” he whispers into your ear.

“Mmm… better.” As the last of the ice melts, he gently swirls the water around the tops of your shoulders, your spaghetti straps soaked now.

When he steps away you turn to him. “You know what I really need? To get out of this sun for a few minutes.”

“Once again, I am here to fulfill your wishes.” He throws a towel over his shoulder and turns his cart around. “Follow me.”

As he pushes the cart down the sidewalk, you walk behind him so you can witness the swaying of his hips as he moves. He keeps looking back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

In a few blocks he stops near an apartment building. “Wait here,” he says and then disappears around the corner with his cart. He quickly returns without it and unlocks the front door, gesturing for you to enter first.

You step into the entryway and wait for him to open the inner door. He sidles up next to you and grins, so you hook your fingers into the belt loops of his shorts and slowly pull him towards you. “Is your apartment air conditioned?”

“No, but I have other ways to cool down.” He lets the tip of his nose touch yours and you part your lips, waiting for a kiss. Instead, he frustratingly pulls away and unlocks the door. Once again he stretches out his hand, gesturing for you to go in first. As you walk past him you spin and grab his hand, pulling him inside. Your hips bump together and he immediately moves his other hand to your waist. Following his lead, you move into a few salsa steps.

“You dance well.” He pushes you away into a spin, then brings you quickly back to him. You fall against his chest, nose to nose again.

“With the right partner I do everything well, “ you say, letting your hand come to his face, slowly raking your fingers through his beard.

“I’m sure you do,” he growls.

“But right now I am so very… hot.”

“I’ll take care of you, Babygirl.” He takes your hand and leads you to the stairs. After two flights he turns a corner and unlocks an apartment door, pulling you in after him.

He closes the door and all you want him to do is grab you and kiss you, but he removes his hat and then leans back against the door instead. You wait and he leers at your body. Enjoying the attention, you rub the sides of your neck. “It’s even hotter up here.”

He nods. “Bedroom is behind you. Go lie down.”

His commanding tone is making you wetter and you turn around, shaking your ass a little for him as you walk to the bedroom. You wonder if he wants you to remove your clothes, but the thought of him tearing them off you is too enticing. So you only remove your sandals and lie on your back on top of the sheets.

From the direction you came from you can hear him rummaging around. You lift your head and try to peer out, but then you hear the fridge door slam and his footsteps come your way. You lie your head back down, stare at the ceiling, and wait.

You hear him stop in the doorway. “Close your eyes,” he instructs. You do, and he enters the room. Listening, you hear him cross to the other side of the bed and set something down. The bed shifts as he lets his weight onto it. You’re holding your breath.

You feel his fingers near your waistband, then he slowly lifts the hem of your shirt up, stopping just below your breasts. He trails a fingertip down your middle, stopping below your navel. “Mmmm…. Your skin feels on fire, Babygirl.”

Removing his finger, you hear him grab something beside him. Suddenly you feel something frozen on your belly and gasp, your eyelids popping open. Letting out a breathy laugh, he lets the ice cube swirl around on your stomach. His gaze alternates from the ice to your face. “How does that feel?”

“Cold!”

That laugh again. “Better than hot?” He looks down at your navel, where melted ice has pooled. He lowers his face and rests his lips around your belly button, slowly sucking up the water. Then his tongue makes slow circles around it and you let out a moan. Putting the ice cube between his lips, he grabs your sides and lets the ice glide around your middle. Eventually he swings a leg over and hovers above you.

He lifts his head and looks at you, the ice gone now. Happy you wore a cute bra today, you start pulling your tank top further up. He reaches up and helps you lift it over your head, tossing it on the floor. Then you sit up just enough to reach behind and unhook your bra. When you lie back down he puts his hands on your forearms to stop you from moving your bra off of you. You like the pressure of his arms on you and are delighted when he finally sits, letting his weight rest on your thighs. He’s pinning you down and you just stare up at him with the sexiest bedroom eyes you can manage.

Finally he moves his hands to the edges of your bra and gently removes it, revealing your breasts. He lets the bra slide to the floor and a small sounds escapes from him as he stares at your chest. “Preciosa,” he whispers.

He brings his hand up to touch you, but stops just shy of your skin, his hand hovering in the air. Instead, he reaches over and grabs another ice cube from the container on the nightstand. You gasp again when he brings it to your nipple, the skin instantly hardening. After swirling the ice for a few seconds, he removes it and replaces it with his mouth. As he sucks your nipple, the warmth from his mouth mingles with the chill left from the ice. The sensation is almost overwhelming and you squirm beneath him. He brings the ice to your other nipple and then sucks that one. As he does, you increase your squirming, trying to get the right angle to rub against his bulge with your hips. When you find it, he releases your nipple and moans, letting his forehead fall between your breasts. Both of his hands cup your tits and gently knead them while you continue grinding against him.

Abruptly he shifts his weight, unable to take it any longer, and moves his hands down your body until he finds the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them down roughly and you lift your hips to assist. He kisses you just above your panty line, which makes you shiver. Slightly less roughly now, he peels your underwear from you. Kneeling near your ankles, he stares at you and you are keenly aware of how naked you are and how fully clothed he still is. He seems to realize this, too, and slowly undoes the second button on his shirt. He grins at you.

“Not fair,” you say.

“I never said I was gonna be fair.” He pauses. “But I’ll give you a little more, because you look so damn good right now.” You smile as he removes the blue shirt. His white tank top underneath is sweat splotched and you stretch your hands towards it. He grabs your wrists. “Not yet.”

“But you must be so warm in those clothes…”

He chuckles. “Soon, Babygirl.” He lifts one of your hands to his mouth and kisses your palm. Then he lets his tongue trace your arm to your shoulder, leaning over you again. As he kisses your neck, you moan, his hands still encasing your wrists. You turn your head towards him, longing for his mouth on yours, but he pulls away. You let out a sound of frustration and in response he lifts your arms above your head, holding your wrists against the bed with one hand. “Paciencia…” he chides.

Still holding you down, he takes out another ice cube. He follows the line of your collarbone with it, then up your neck and along your jaw line. It feels amazing on your still burning skin. Eventually he lets it touch your lips and you part them, holding the now small cube in place. He releases your wrists and finally your mouths come together. First he pushes the ice inside your mouth and your tongues dance together around the cube. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. You pass the ice back and forth until it completely melts.

When it’s gone you move your hands along his arms, relishing the feel of his biceps. Slipping your hands under the front of his tank top, you run your fingers down the small line of hair you find there. Then up again, finding his chest. You push the fabric up and gently bite one of his dark nipples. Hearing him inhale sharply, you make circles with your tongue around it before moving to the other one and doing the same thing. When you stop he removes his tank top. You savor the view of his caramel skin, letting your hands roam his chest and stomach. A low hum comes out of him as you do, his eyes closed.

You go for his mouth again, urgently pressing against him. He kisses you back with the same energy, his hands finding your breasts. After a minute one of his hands snakes down your middle until it finds your most sensitive spot. You moan as he just gently circles it, then moves to find your folds.

“Damn, Babygirl—are you so wet for me?”

“Yes, Papi.”

His fingers are already slick with you as he gently explores. After giving you a long kiss, he pulls back and takes another cube in his other hand. He moves down so his face is finally near your pussy. He opens your folds slightly and touches the ice against your clit. Your gasp stutters this time and you clench the sheet with both fists. So softly he rocks the cube against your nub for a bit. When he removes it he immediately replaces it with his tongue and presses harder. Your mouth agape, you make animal noises as he alternates licking and sucking. Then the ice returns and the varying temperatures make your nerve endings go wild. He keeps the ice on you until it melts away, then uses his mouth again.

With his face still between your legs, he blindly reaches for the ice bucket. His hand dips into it and he holds it there for as long as he can stand to. Then two of his wet fingers enter you smoothly. Again the coldness is a shock to your system, especially inside of you now. But the shock is also a pleasure and you rock against his fingers. Still licking your clit, he matches your tempo and slides his fingers in and out of you.

He removes his fingers and dips them in the bucket again. While he lets them sit in there, he rubs his other thumb against you. When he can’t hold his fingers in the freezing water any longer, he pushes them inside you once more. The cold is delightful. He curls his fingers, petting the roof of your cavern. You feel yourself already reaching your crest and start panting.

“Are you going to come for me, Babygirl?”

“Yes… yes…”

“Call me ‘Papi’ again.”

“Yes, Papi! Don’t stop…”

He increases his speed a little and reaches up to your breast with his opposite hand, squeezing your hard nipple.

You tip over the edge and arch your back. “Papi… yes!” Waves of pleasure roll through you and you lose all sense of time and place. As you come down, his fingers slide out of you. You open your eyes to find his, which are filled with hunger.

You sit up and reach for the buttons on his shorts. “Take these off,” you tell him.

He grabs your wrists. “I’m the one who gives the orders.”

You let out a breath of irritation and glare at him.

Still holding your wrists, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. “Kneel.” You slide off the bed and go to your knees, thankful for the rug underneath. As he looks down at you while sitting on the edge of the bed, he leisurely unbuttons his shorts and brings down his zipper.

You ask, “Can I help you take them off?”

He nods and you grip the shorts cuffs and pull down. You can clearly see his dick outlined in his boxer briefs and your mouth waters.

“Are you ready for my cock?”

“Yes, Papi.”

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pulls his underwear down, his hard cock popping out. As he finishes getting his underwear off his ankles, you reach up and grab an ice cube without him noticing. As he sits fully again, you gingerly wrap your hand around his shaft. He hums again and closes his eyes.

That’s when you bring the ice to the underside of his member. With a gasp he lifts his hips off the bed, but you lean forward and take his tip in your mouth to keep him in place. As he settles you lightly run the ice along his shaft, your tongue twirling around his tip the entire time.

He shivers and moans, “Oh, fuck…”

When the ice has melted a little, you put it in your mouth. Then you wrap your lips around his cock. Taking your time, you move up and down his length, your tongue weaving around it. The ice moves around your mouth, quickly melting away.

His breath is heavy now and he brings a hand to the back of your head, guiding your speed. He lets out a long moan and you can’t help bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing yourself.

Abruptly he pulls out of your mouth and grabs your arms, sloppily pulling you onto his lap so your legs are wrapped around him. He kisses you hungrily and you tangle your fingers into his black hair. His cock is under your folds and you gently move your hips so you can rub against it. He grabs your ass and helps you glide against him.

You break your lips from his and go for his earlobe, nipping and sucking at it. He growls low in response. Then you whisper, “Fuck me, Papi. Please.”

In an instant his hand moves to his cock so he can position it. You lean back as he guides it inside you. When you sit back up completely, he fills you, every part of you craving him. You seize his shoulders and pitch your hips into his. The two of you find a slow rhythm at first and your forehead falls against his.

He pulls you tight against him and kisses you softly. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You kiss him back, wanting your tongue inside his mouth while his cock moves inside you. Gradually you both increase your speed and you can feel the heat rising through your insides, getting ready to erupt again.

Then he stops and pulls out of you. You whimper, but he says, “Shhh… turn over.” So you go on all fours, lifting your ass in the air, begging for him to enter you again. He does, ever so slowly. As he moves in and out of you, you arch your back and put your chin in the air, moaning.

You hear him grab from the ice bucket again. Expecting it this time, the cold on your back feels exquisite. He runs the ice up and down your spine slowly while still moving inside you. When most of the ice is melted, he leans forward and licks the water from your skin. Then one of his hands finds your clit and taps out a quick rhythm against it. You move your hips faster into him, the triple sensations of his cock, hand, and tongue almost too much too handle. You almost scream when you come and you can’t hold yourself up any longer, your front half falling onto the bed. But he keeps your back half lifted up as he pounds harder, seconds behind you in his own waves of pleasure. You’re elated at the noises coming out of him as he empties himself into you.

After a few final thrusts, he collapses next to you, pulling you with him. He wraps his arms and legs around you as if to keep you in bed with him forever. And you’d like nothing more in this moment. After a few minutes, he shifts away from you to grab some tissues from the nightstand. As he wipes himself, you stand up and search for your clothes. He’s sitting up and staring at you, so you give him one last look at your ass as you bend over to pick up your underwear from the floor, pausing at the bottom. When you straighten, you peek over your shoulder and relish the stupid grin on his face.

“This not at all how I expected to spend my afternoon,” you tell him.

“Me, either.”

“We should do this again sometime,” you say as you step into your underwear.

He stands. “I have to tell you… I’m married.”

You don’t turn around. “Is that so?”

“Yes, and she is the most amazing and sexy woman on the planet.” He brings his hands around your waist.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Just you, mi amor.” Your husband kisses the back of your neck and you snuggle against him.

“Hmmm…. I’ll have to skip out of work more often.”

“Anytime, Babygirl. Anytime. You know where to find me.”

[bogkeep]

Hey! I'm the one who asked the poorly worded art process question. I'm here to give it another try by being more specific. The problem is . . . that's hard. Because that was about a specific as I can get, since I kind of want to know everything about how your art works.

Big things, like how you come up with ideas, or how you design characters. But small things, too, like what tools you use for drawing, how you balance between traditional and digital art, and how you decide what color to use for your unique and beautiful line art.

I want to be more specific so you can answer, but the question in my head is too vague and broad for me to be specific about it. So . . . here are some subquestions of my question, I guess! Maybe that helps?

Sorry this is so weird, and thank you, your art is amazing

first of all, thank you so much <3

and yes, this is far more answerable! i hope i can satiate some of your hunger for insight without writing a whole book.

HOW DO I COME UP WITH IDEAS?

this is obviously going to be very different for everyone. i very rarely have to dig for ideas or sit down and brainstorm, unless of course i am trying to achieve something very specific, like fulfill art contest criteria or working on a commission. my brain is very visually wired, so a lot of my ideas literally just pop up in my head (i know of several artists with aphantasia - some people don't have any visuals in their head at all and I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT'S LIKE AND I AM IN AWE OF THESE ARTISTS), sometimes i see a character or character design and im like HNNNG i need to draw them, or i just... have a concept i really want to Exist and i'm going to figure out how.

my biggest problem is that often, when i get an idea i want to DRAW IT, NOW NOW NOWNOWNOW, and that's just Not Feasible. sometimes because i'm Literally In Bed, sometimes because i have too many things i need to do or draw first... but i need to clear up space in my head, because my Urge To Draw will be like, beeping and whirring until i satisfy it... so i write it down on my TO DRAW-list! it's a real list that exists on my phone and i have to use it frequently. if i keep scrolling down i start finding weird notes that i have NO idea are supposed to mean anymore, but that's fine. i can't satisfy every Art Urge. sometimes i need to let them pass.

HOW DO I DESIGN CHARACTERS?

this one might vary a bit, but it can often be boiled down to "i sketch around until i figure something that Works." many of my characters, especially my older characters, became characters by accident when i kept drawing them over and over and i was like Ah I Like Drawing You... You Exist Now. that's how sparrow spellcaster happened, at the very least. this could happen because i had school and i would focus in school by doodling/sketching while listening to class. since i no longer go to school, pretty much all of my new characters are far more intentional. Timian and Vinta specifically exist as a result of a "favourite character fusion" challenge, and a lot of iphimery characters started with a Purpose rather than just harnessing the vibe of something i drew multiple times without thinking.

it helps to write down elements or tropes i want to include, like "sturdy-looking" or "VILLAIN OF EVIL SCARY MAGICS but it's a little girl and the dark magic is bright lightning and not shadows" or something. it can vary from a tiny visual detail to their role in the story. whatever i want to Achieve. my Intent. because my brain works so visually, i just really need to sketch somethign repeatedly until i nail it and can be like Yes That's It.

sketchbooks look a little messy but that’s what they’re for.

WHAT TOOLS DO I USE

for digital art, i’m currently using an ipad pro and procreate. i use a lot of the brushes that came installed, like Mercury is my primary lineart brush, and Moorilla is my primary sketching brush, but i also buy a lot of custom brushes on the hunt for More Delicious Textures (DAUB has a lot of good ones, especially if you want some that imitate traditional art). i have also used Huion and XP-pen tablets and generally recommend them, as well as clip studio paint as an art program (i love it very much and if it wasn’t subscription-based on ipad i would still be using it).

for traditional art, mostly just whatever sketchbook i have + my trusty mechanical pencil. i mean i have two: one with softer lead (it comes out darker) and 0,7 mm thickness, and one that’s 0,5 and harder lead for more light sketching, or if i’m going to line it with ink.

i also have a trusty pentel brush pen that i love DEARLY and feel bad for not having used in a while for reasons i will get to.

when i work on calendar pieces traditionally, i like to draw lines with ink - i use a dip pen with exchangeable nibs - and then color with watercolors. i have several sets because they’re all slightly different and i want the Range.

i sometimes travel with a little sketchbook in my bag and an assortment of pens, so that i can sketch Anytime, Anywhere. i think doodling with a pen can be very useful because you gotta become comfortable with the mistakes and imperfections and keep going anyway. if i doodle at work that’s the tools i have -  regular ball pens and a bunch of paper lying around.

HOW DO I BALANCE BETWEEN DIGITAL AND TRADITIONAL ART?

currently, i... don’t, really. it was easier when i had school, and i would just doodle freely and then maybe use some of my sketches as thumbnails or concept ideas. it’s harder now that i need to intentionally sit down with my sketchbook, and tbh... the ipad works very well for sketching. it’s so CONVENIENT and i have WORK all the time and my time to create art has become much more limited than it was. i miss going to my weirdo art high school where we would try out a whole bunch of different tools and methods. sure, yes, i had to paint with Acrylics My Beloathed, but getting to play around in different mediums is VERY valuable.

i genuinely want to be able to make more time and space for non-digital art again, but i just don’t have the ability to right now. it’s also different now that i’ve moved away from my parent’s place - i used to have an enormous desk and my mother has a large collection of art tools and there was a lot more storage space for whatever i created. digital art is very convenient and very accessible. ah well!

HOW DO I DECIDE ON THE COLOR FOR MY LINEART?

i usually line in black or a very dark color, and when i’m done coloring + shading i might play around with the colors and see what works. if you lock the layer you can just throw all the spaghetti at the wall you want. i decide on whatever fits the piece. i tend to be pretty fast and loose about it too, sometimes you can probably spot parts of my lineart that have slightly mismatchy color, but it’s like... done is better than perfect! i don’t have the energy to overlook every single pixel of my piece or else i would drive myself utterly mad.

HOPE THIS ANSWERS ANYTHING AT ALL!! THANKS FOR ASKING!!!

[duckprintspress]

"And Seek (Not) to Alter Me" Story Teasers: M. K. Mads and Nickel J. Keep

Presenting And Seek (Not) to Alter Me: Queer Fanworks Inspired by William Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing"

Duck Prints Press has launched our second Kickstarter, running now through April 14th, 2022 - And Seek (Not) to Alter Me, a gorgeous collection featuring the work of 16 authors and 16 artists in a full-color, A4 size soft cover size-style book!

Today, we're highlighting 2 more of our authors...

*

Author Spotlight: M. K. Mads

Biography: M. K. Mads has been writing stories since she was seven years old. While she is most prolific in fanfiction and has works scattered among more than a dozen fandoms, she has been making strides into original fiction. Her favorite genre to read is romance. When she isn’t reading, writing, or falling headfirst into a new fandom, she can be found baking, walking, doting on her niblings, or playing Pokemon Go.

Story Title: Dear Don Pedro

Tags: getting together, modern setting, polyamory

Teaser:

"Are you going to join us for dinner anytime soon, or are you going to sit there on your computer all night?"

Pedro glanced over to where Beatrice was hanging over the back of the couch. "I'm working, Bea."

She pouted, but she didn't try to touch his computer; Pedro was grateful for small miracles.

"Come on. I know for a fact your deadline isn't until tomorrow afternoon." She jerked her head toward the kitchen, where Benedick was mixing up a truly gigantic bowl of spaghetti and marinara. "You can stop working for an hour and have a conversation with your friends."

"You know she's not going to let it go until you decide to be sociable," Benedick said. "She's never learned to take 'no' for an answer."

Beatrice rolled her eyes and shoved off the couch to saunter over to her husband. "And just why might I do that, hm? Might it have anything to do with certain other people in this room who are too stubborn for their own good?"

Benedick caught her hand and kissed it. "No idea what you're talking about, Bea, my love."

She yanked her hand back, but her cheeks flushed and she was suppressing a smile. "You're incorrigible, and I don't know why I love you."

*

Author Spotlight: Nickel J. Keep

Biography: Nickel (they/them) was born in a galaxy far, far away. No. Wait. That’s not their origin story. They currently live in Pennsylvania with two of their three partners, their two children, and a fat, lazy, chonk of a cat named Sphinx. When not writing, Nickel can be found drawing, playing video games, or running Magic: The Gathering tournaments as an L1 judge. They can frequently be found lurking in the Haven, Leverage, and Witcher fandoms.

Links: Archive of Our Own | Twitter

Story Title: Some Cupids

Tags: friends to lovers, meddling friends, mutual pining, wlw

Teaser:

“It’s not that easy, Claudia.” Hero frowned. “There are people who would harm them just because they love one another.” He nodded towards Bea’s balcony. “She would rather suffer and love Beni from afar than do anything to put her at risk. And, I venture to say, Beni’s the same way about Bea.”

Claudia shook her head. “What a pair of cockeyed broads.” She stood up, nearly throwing Hero off-balance as she got off of his lap. “We’re going to fix this. Beni is my dear friend, and yours. I’ve grown rather fond of Bea, too, and you two are in her corner. The best repayment for helping us love freely and fiercely is to make sure that they can as well!”

“You picked a firecracker, didn’t you, Hero?” Matthew leaned back and shook his head, smiling. “I’m in if you’re in. They got me off the hook as much as did you.”

“Well, then.” Hero looked between his friend and his fiance. “I guess we’re in cahoots. What brainchild are you cooking up, Claudia?”

“I am so glad you asked…”

***

See our art, read more teasers, peek at our merch, and learn much more about this project by checking out our Kickstarter Campaign!

[devilbat]

Quarantine and Chill

Tom Hiddleston x reader

Warning: Just more fluff

Summary: This is part 2 to Quarantin online when the reader finally meets Tom after months of talking online.

               Tom: Biscuiteers, 194 Kensington Park Road, London, W11. Let's say 9 am, this Thursday? Will that work for you?

              When you woke, you'd thought it was all a dream that you didn't just Skype with Tom Hiddleston. That was until you looked at your phone. Finding that Tom had texted you after the both of you said goodnight. Even sent you a photo of himself this time of his far to a handsome face.

         Y/n: Sorry again for crashing on you last night. I've never been there, so sounds great. See you then.

———-

You stood outside the shop of Biscuiteers hoping you had the right place the quaint little cafe was a bit busier than usual as people line out the door distancing themselves from others. You looked at your watch once again. You got to the cafe thirty minutes early. You were not able to stay home. Time seems to go far to slow for your liking.

"Y/n?" A deep velvet-smooth voice purred from behind you, making you squeak out in surprise, turning on your heels to come face to chest with Tom Hiddleston. Not realizing how much taller he was then you.

"Yeah." You said shyly, your eyes fluttered upward to look into those baby blues of his. ”Hi."

"It's nice to meet you, Darling, finally." Tom took your hand being ever, so the gentleman placed a light kiss onto your knuckles. Lingering a minute longer. Tom's eyes never once left yours he smiled as he watched you turn a light shade of pink.

"It's nice to meet you as well, finally." You managed to breathe out.

"These are for you." Tom offered you a lovely bouquet. You could feel your cheek heat up when you took the arrangement. It was a perfect size, and Tom had remembered your favorite flowers.

"Oh, Tom. You didn't have to." You hummed.

"Anything for a beautiful woman." Tom winked. "Shall we grab our coffee and maybe wander around London?" You smiled up at him with a nod.

Tom grabbed coffee for the both of you, even after you laughed at Tom for how silly he looked in his mask when he came out of the shop. He showed you around London. Taking the whole day to play tour guide, Ken.

After a late lunch, Tom took you down to Tavistock street for candy floss and ice cream, a little place called Milk Train. Though you may have told him he was crazy that ice cream and Cotton candy don't go together. Which ensued a small discussion on the right term to call the sugary cloud.

Tom ended up getting cookies and cream on roasted green tea ice cream with colorful sprinkles. You got the unicorn on Matcha ice cream both as a Choo-choo, which was when they added the cloud of candy floss or as you corrected Tom as it's real name Cotton candy.

Tom being the proper gentleman that he was even took you home—not wanting you to walk back alone—even walking you to your door.

"Thank you, Tom. I had a wonderful time." You said shyly. Not wanting the night to end. Tom had been great, and you hoped that he wanted the same.

"I did to Darling." Tom smiled down at you. Both of you stood there for a moment longer, unsure of what to say or do next. "Eheh." Tom was rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you like to come over for dinner sometime? ..... To my home, that is. ... Only dinner and maybe a film."

       You giggled softly at how reassuring that it was nothing more than that. He was definitely nervous. It was nice to see this man be so normal in away. You would have always thought he would be confident in every aspect of his life.

"I would like that, Tom." You nodded with a smile.

              "Really?" Tom's voice cracked a bit overjoyed. Making you giggle. "I mean, you don't think I'm overstepping ." Clearing his throat. "I don't want to pressure you on the second date by having you come over to some stranger home. Who may or may not have his way with you. Not that I'm going to I'll be the perfect gentleman. I mean if you wan-."

            You cut Tom off, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.  "You're overthinking."

            "Eheh." Tom nervously chuckled his hand, running along with the spot that your lips were.

——-

     Tom wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted you to have the perfect night with him. He may have even gone a little overboard to make it so. Purchasing outdoor movie projector and screen. Stringed lights littered his backyard. He searched ideas for the best setting for the movies and dinner. Finally, settling on to large style inflatable mattresses. Every pillow and blanket he owned laid thoughtfully.

         The menu he had made simple something he knew you would like, and he was known for his spaghetti bolognese. You may have mentioned that you wouldn't mind seeing if he did it the right way. It didn't help with his nervousness that you cooked professionally. While he waited on the sauce.

        He almost jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang. Looking at his watch, you were early. Well, at least he hoped it was you and not his sisters spying on him. He had let it slip to his mom about you. Therefore his sisters knew and had given him a hard time. However, they did help with ideas on his little backyard project.

         Tom grinned when he spied you throw the peephole of his door. Tom noted that you wore comfortable clothes. He wanted you to be comfortable. You didn't have to get all dressed up for him.

         "Hello, darling." Tom greeted you when he opened the door.

           "Hi, Tom. I brought wine. I wasn't sure what to bring." You rambled Tom pulled you into a hug to make you stop. Relaxing you as you hugged him back.

"You didn't need to bring anything, Darling, just yourself." Tom smiled as he took your bag and wine for you as he escorted you outside. "Dinner is just about ready. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and I'll be right back."

——

       Tonight's movies: The Jungle Book (Disney version.) starts after dinner, followed by Jurassic Park.  The sign said on a table as you both moved over to the area Tom had set up the movie.

      Tom set up the projector while you got yourself comfortable on one of the mattresses. Few minutes of trying to figure out the machine a few cuss words under his breath. In hopes you didn't hear him.

        Tom finally got the projector working and settled on the other mattress, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable if he were to get in with you. You looked over at Tom when you movie came up on the screen.

          "Tom, did you mean to have the movie play upside down?" You smile, trying not to laugh.

             "Eheh, No." Tom groaned as he stood back up. To fix the problem. "Before I forgot there is popcorn, sweets, and drinks on the table if you would like at any point."

              "I'm so full from that amazing dinner maybe later. Thank you." You hummed.

             Tom finally settled, and the movie started. You giggled when Tom began to sing out loud. 'Look for those bear necessities.'

           "You, sir, are a dork." You throw a small pillow at the man.

           "Hey, now I saw your feet swaying to the music. You know you were just about to bellow it out." Tom tossed the pillow back at you.

         "You saw nothing, mister. I was rudely interrupted from the movie by off-key singing." You teased sticking your tongue out. Placing the pillow back under your head. "Now, shh it."

         Tom settled down, and you both went back to the movie. Soon the second movie started. Twenty minutes into the film, you decided on some popcorn.

         "Do you want any popcorn?" You asked, looking over at Tom, who was watching you as you got up.

         "Popcorn does sound good. But I can get it, love." Tom hummed, pulling himself up.

         "I got it, Tom. I mean, I'm already up." You smiled, walking over to the cute little setup Tom had put a lot of thought into.

         "Where's mine?" Tom poured as you came back with some candy and one bag of popcorn.

         Carefully you kneeled on to the mattress with Tom. Making sure not to spill any of the contents from your arms, laying everything down on the blanket. Tom corked an eyebrow at you. Humming to the music. While you moved under the blanket.

          "I figured we could share." You shrugged a shy smile played along your lips. Brushing a loose strand of hair back behind your ear.

          "Of course, darling sounds like a lovely idea." Tom moved over just a bit, giving you more room.

         You scooted closer to the man popcorn in hand as you rested yourself against him. Your head was resting lightly on his chest. Tom didn't hesitate to put his arm around you. You both went back to the movie.   

         "Thank you, Tom, this has been the best and one of the most thoughtful dates I have ever been on." You spoke up kissing Tom cheek, almost startling him.

           "You are more than welcome." Tom smiled.

Tom leaned forward, capturing your soft lips with his own, testing the waters almost to see if you would pull away. He paused for a moment only for Your lips pressing back along with his. Your hand that was already resting on his chest, gripped into the smooth fabric of his sweater.

          He kissed you softly, yet there was so much passion behind each movement. His arms wrapped around your waist. Your other hand found it's way to tangled into his soft locks. Forgotten popcorn spilled over the blanket. 

            Only breaking apart when a roar that made you two jump apart. Both of you looked to the screen, chest heaving and out of breath as you saw the T-Rex come back on-screen attempt to kill a car. And two kids screaming for their life.

           "Eheh." Tom laughed as he turned back to look at you. Gently Tom moved so that he wasn't crushing you too much. Some point he had slowly started leaning into you. You bit your lip when you looked up at Tom; his hair was a bit of a mess. You could feel your cheeks heat up.

          "You know for being dead, dinosaurs do have the worst timing." You said breathlessly.

          "That they do." Tom smile kissing your lips once more.

         "Popcorn?" You offered Tom as you took a piece from the pile that was currently on top of Tom's lap.

        Soon the movie came to an end, and Tom was the one that didn't want the night to end. However, he hadn't realized yet that you had fallen asleep. Not until he went to get up to turn the projector off that he noticed. You looked so cute draped over him, with your face practically buried into his chest.

"Darling, the movies over." Tom gently stroked your cheek even though he didn't want you to wake you.

"Mmhmm." You nodded sleepily but didn't show any other signs of moving.

"Y/n?" Tom kissed your forehead this time.

"Five more minutes." You yawned your arm wrapped around Tom's waist tighter.

"All right." Tom smiles as he covered both of you up. Though he didn't intend on falling asleep himself, he did.