#magpie bridge

[bakedbeanchan]

Sokka and Yue reuniting in the spirit world

[visavice]

[creativesplat]

Stargazing

[yearnstarved]

─── ⋆ IF A DOG ACTS OUT, ITS MASTER MUST ANSWER FOR THE MISDEED. At least, that was the way Chang'e was taught. The edicts of the heavenly realm followed the same principles and that was the way she had to run her Guanghan palace. The train of her dress rippled in the wind following her descent. The blanched and plainness of the undyed fabrics caught the moonlight over them.

She contemplated how to address him at first. When she was the one carrying all this shame on behalf of her pupil, which of his name would convey the most deference? Tianhu (heavenly tiger)? Demon hunter? Finally she drew a breath in and settled on,

"ZORO."

"Jade Rabbit informed me that one of my pupils came to the mortal realm without my sanction and caused you trouble. He challenged you to a duel it seems. On his behalf, I wanted to apologize for the insolence."

( @3katanas )

[iwillruletheuniverse]

In the magazine that comes every friday, the editor in chief took this picture of a magpie🥺❤️ I often called Thomas magpie💖

[writeronartblock]

Hestia. Hestia. HESTIA. HESTIA

If you're gonna approve any one of the boys in Shulaina's vicinity to be her partner, PLEASE APPROVE CORY!! HE'S LITERALLY THE BEST CANDIDATE, NO STRINGS ATTACHED!!

HE'S THE MOST NORMAL ONE OUT OF ALL OF THE LOVE INTERESTS, PLEEEEAAASSSEEEE!!!

[literaryphilanderer]

Webtoon: I Don't Want To Be a Magpie Bridge

Author(s): 살오른 곱등이

Artist(s): Chubby cricket

I’ve been reincarnated into a side character of a novel. On top of that, I am the character who is like a magpie bridge in the mentally-exhausting story, "The Guys Around Hestia." There is no romance in store for me, and it absolutely horrifies me to think that my family is destined to drown in debt! I planned on becoming a civil servant, enjoying a life of wealth and honor that I was unable to attain in my previous life but… why are the guys behaving out of character? Why are you blushing in front of me? Why do you keep giving me food? “Can you Imagine Shushu being shy when looking at someone?” “Whoa… It’d be amazing if that happens.” As Cory absent-mindedly said to Hiley, Eve frowned and murmured under his breath. “Should I run away with her…” Swan remained silent while he hid his face with his sleeves. His face and ears turned red. What’s up with you guys? Why are you guys doing other things instead of being obsessed with the female lead? Get yourself together! This is the survival story of an academy student, Schulaina West, who wants to pursue a wealthy future in a reverse harem novel. TL/N: Magpie Bridge is the bridge made by a flock of magpies that connects the two star-crossed lovers Orihime and Hikoboshi in the legend behind the Tanabata festival.

Thoughts:

This...this is incredible? I don't even know how to start my review. The characters are incredibly constructed, with believable flaws and motivations. The friendships are complex and textured. The plot is intriguing. Of course it is a manhwa and the standard suspension of disbelief is mandatory but the webtoon manages to straddle the fence between believable and outright ridiculous incredibly well. The protagonist is fun and even as readers realize that she's not a very reliable narrator, they can't help but root for her since she's so utterly charismatic. Of course, the magic school, the bickering and the banter between several very pretty people doesn't hurt. All in all, I want to read more. Now.

[nought-shall-go-ill]

A Bridge Made of Magpies please! 👀

Certainly! Annoyingly, I have most of this piece written out by hand and don't have my notebook on me, but I do have the first line saved in my notes:

The end of the world shouldn't start with soft kisses.

A Bridge Made of Magpies is my Jily version of The Cowherd & The Weaver Girl. In the story, Lily and James are forced to be apart for decades by an ancient curse, except for one day a year.

I have a feeling it won't be my most popular story, but it is probably one of my favourite ever plot bunnies, and I love it very much. (Difficult in execution though).

[lilnasxvevo]

Now, now, this is Eurocentric! Different cultures have different names for our galaxy. For example, in China it’s called the Silver River, and the legend is that the gods created the river to separate two forbidden lovers, the heavenly weaver girl Zhinv and the mortal cowherd…dammit! Never mind, this one has cows too!

We have GOT to pick a better name for our galaxy than the Milky Way, if aliens ever come from the Andromeda Galaxy they're gonna think it's a horny thing

[probablyjustamagpie]

Re-writing part of my story because I think Marigold deserves more violence. As a treat

[shalotttower]

Will-o'-the-wisp

Title: Will-o'-the-wisp

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)

Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.

Word count: 1700+

Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed

You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.

The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.

Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.

When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.

There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.

That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.

And this is where you see him for the first time.

The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.

"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."

He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."

His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.

"Thank you."

The smile widens. "You're welcome."

---

It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.

You do enjoy gardening.

Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.

The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.

You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.

---

You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.

The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.

"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."

---

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.

You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.

Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.

At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.

You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.

It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.

Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.

It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.

After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.

There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.

You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.

Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.

Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.

It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.

Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.

The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.

Then it disappears.

No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.

There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.

But it's impossible.

Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.

Why is he here?

"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."

Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.

There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.

Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.

"I need to go."

"Where?"

This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?

"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.

"And where is home?"

"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."

He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.

Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.

How?

Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.

"That's enough, dear."

"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"

A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.

"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."

There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.

"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."

It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"I didn't know!"

He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.

Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.

"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."

[sillygoofyqueer]

More silly heavenly demon crowyuan things!

I like the idea of this particular crowyuan showing up before Binghe gets tossed into the abyss.

Shen Yuan considers sneaking his way onto Cang Qiong Mountain, but unfortunately he is a demon and isn’t entirely sure how to get through the wards without just smashing them to pieces.

Even if he could, the whole golden tipped feathers, and glowing golden flame Zuiyin on his forehead, makes stealth missions way more challenging for him than they are for his cousins and half siblings.

(I do think Shen Yuan eventually learns how to hide these features, just like Binghe learns to hide his demon features and Zuiyin, but he both initially thinks he’s a hybrid crow/firebird or something, and is still getting a hang of his powers).

Instead he’s stuck just getting the crow family together (regular crows and yao-crows included) and having them help him acquire items and deliver the goods to Binghe (the non demon crows do the delivery part).

(As an aside: for added possible silliness maybe the demon and yao crows didn’t get along before, since crows can be quite territorial, but after transmigrating Shen Yuan just sort of bulldozed over the division by befriending everyone and being too indestructible for the initial murder attempts to work. Heck, maybe he unknowingly became the de-facto ‘Corvid king’, with even ravens, magpies, and Airplane’s weird made up corvid species thinking he’s cool 😂).

Back to the Binghe stuff, Shen Yuan’s crow delivery system mostly works great, with only minor hiccups! Binghe has no idea why a shabby looking qiankun pouch with 15-different cultivation manuals showed up in his woodshed, but he finds all the selections quite useful.

(The corvid army heard Shen Yuan’s ponderings about good techniques from various sects/clans/forbidden crypts/etc. that might suit Binghe and decided that it was a fun ‘gotta catch them all’ quest situation. There were good shinies to be had at all those locations too! Nice!)

Binghe also somehow gets his mother’s jade guanyin dropped on his head mid meditation—with an apology note attached???—a few days after Ming Fan tossed the thing. (It was pretty, so a crow stole it, and Shen Yuan had to bully/bribe them into giving it back.)

D-Don't look at the date, it hasn't been that long since I've updated hahaha... ANYWAY. LET ME GET INTO THE ✨MINDSET✨ OF CROWYUAN. So, heavenly demon crowyuan. Pre-abyss Binghe. This shit is brilliant. I really love the idea of Shen Yuan chilling with his family for like a get-together of sorts, (crows bonking each other on the head and squabbling over shiny shit the moment he looks away), before he has a sudden startling realisation that he's still in PIDW and just shoots up with an "AH FUCK, BINGHE!!" The crows are startled, he's startled, everyone is staring at him like he's lost his mind. And he immediately sets about muttering the things the poor kid'll need to survive on Qing Jing Peak. I like to think he definitely takes a look at the sect and its wards, but he obviously can't get in himself, so....CROWS. Now, imagine this from Binghe's perspective. He's having a generally shit time on the peak, bullied and abused and all that shitty shit, when he suddenly gets a full arsenal of cultivation manuals and cultivation aids. It'd be like a gift from the gods, to him!! He prays, more comes. This happens way too often, so he stakes out his woodshed one time and finds out that...crows are leaving them??? He's baffled. Then he hears rumours of a corvid king whispered around amongst the other disciples. Apparently this king can be linked to all types of corvids, even bridging the gap between territorial ones!! At first it sounds like a stupid myth, a joke that nobody really believes. I mean, come on, an ARMY of corvids??? Then Cang Qiong sect hears of an overconfident group of Hua Huan cultivators being attacked by a flock of corvids for trying to destroy a forest that falls into the apparent "territory" of the Corvid King, a part that borders on Huan Hua's own territory. A coincidence? Sure. Until Huan Hua get greedy and try and do it again, with the same results. Every. Single. Time. Binghe can now only assume the Corvid King has taken a liking to him, and even if he doesn't quite know why, and isn't sure if he should be receiving help from a demon...HE VOWS to put the king's gifts to good use, to find and show him just how much his gifts have helped Binghe. This ran away with me a little... I love the idea of Shen Yuan just wandering in, not caring about any form of customs and dragging two warring/territorial groups of crows and just chilling with both of them so they have to be like..."FUCK, okay fine we can share..." Just for now. Check out the crowyuan tag on my blog for more information :D I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER, BUT I'M BACK. I'M HERE, ANON. IT'S NOT OVER FOR US YET. HAVE YOU MISSED ME??? After I've checked out the next ask (probably answering it tomorrow), I'm going to take the initiative and think about the peak lords' reactions to this random demon that's shown up

[yearnstarved]

─── ⋆ "STOP WASTING TIME," Chang'e said point blank. "You're making me fish for a needle from the bottom of the sea. You wouldn't be entertaining this unless you think there's something I could provide." It took everything not to let her anger break her countenance. No matter how much cultivation these beasts underwent their spirits remained putrid, selfish. They never batted an eye to the way of morality if it didn't serve them.

"You're clever, but proud. If the gods offered their help, I don't think you could manage to swallow your pride." Chang'e angled her head as well, seeing the same arrogance in his eyes. Even in a dire situation like this, she didn't want to beg—not as long as she was an immortal.

"I know the demon's true identity and weakness. Wouldn't that be a more efficient way to defeat the demon without spending your magic or worse, the potential of it stealing your cultivated qi?" At this point, if he wanted to put on additional bravado, she wouldn't mind watching him meet his karma first.

Unsurprised that she'd been able to figure out who he was he merely watched her, gaze utterly detached as he waited for her to come up with a reason as to why he should help. When it arrived he couldn't help the small huff of amusement that caused his shoulders to rise for a moment. Gaze shifting then from her to the entrance of the cave that the scorpion demon had claimed as its home. It was inelegant, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The demon wasn't well known for being smart.

"I am not fool enough to walk into another's claimed home if I did not think I would win." He countered her claim that he needed her help as he returned his gaze to the goddess. He'd lain several traps and scripts before even entering the lair of his enemy. Planning out countless ways in which the encounter could go and countering them with the ease of one born to strategy.

"I have never needed the help of the gods." Moving forward he slowly crouched down before her, gaze sweeping over her bindings before his head tipped ever so slightly to the side as he reiterated. "I will ask only once more, why should I help you?"

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Seven Deadly Sins pop-up event.

Some Real Good

Prompt: Gluttony | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | CW: Alcohol Consumption | POV: Gareth | Relationship(s): Gareth & Eddie BFFs, Background Steddie | Tags: Corroded Coffin on Tour, Bus Travel, Road Manager Steve Harrington, Eddie: The Magpie, Gareth & Steve: Who Love Him Anyway

"What do you have in here, bricks?" Gareth asks, picking up one of Eddie's duffle bags, trying to wrangle it up into the open storage bin under the bus. It's not easy. For some reason Eddie's stuffed the fucker completely full today, and it's unwieldy.

"Yep. And sex toys," Eddie quips, and Gareth rolls his eyes. Unfortunately, Gareth knows that's not where Eddie keeps all the dirty shit he travels with. Because Gareth's seen it all, even if he wishes otherwise.

Eddie finally gets it wedged underneath, and they can roll out.

Meaning, Gareth forgets about the overfilled luggage, until the same thing happens at the next stop. It's definitely not going under there this time, because Gareth swears it's getting bulkier by the stop. 

Eddie's trying to re-zip the damn thing after rearranging, and it's clearly not going well. 

Gareth moves to squeeze both sides together so Eddie can zip it easier, when he catches sight of what's inside. 

"What the fuck?" Gareth says, letting go and picking up a travel size bar of soap, surely from one of the many hotel rooms they've stayed in. He digs his hand in, combing through the mess of small, plastic bottles. It's filled to the absolute brim with travel toiletries, and a variety of shit from green rooms. Mini liquor bottles from airplanes.

Eddie snatches the bag back from Gareth's hands, "They're free. We're supposed to take them." 

"No, we're supposed to use them if we need them. Which I know you don't. I've seen your bathroom bag."

It's definitely fully stocked.

"Well, someday I might need them," Eddie argues.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie. No you won't. This is insane, even for you."

Eddie's part magpie, they all know that, but this is a bridge too far.

"You never know," Eddie says, like he's being sane and rational. He's being neither.

"How is this - you - hoarding them under the bus any better than just leaving them behind? They still aren't being used, Eddie. And now we're just the ones lugging them around."

"I want them," Eddie argues and Gareth's hands find his own hair, pulling. Eddie can rarely be rationalized with on a good day, but this is beyond. 

"You will never need these. We can buy shampoo and soap. We do buy shampoo and soap. In appropriate quantities and in brands we actually like. You damn well know Steve has never once let any of us run out. The minute I toss an empty, a new one magically appears. Which, awesome. But also scary, because that means your boyfriend knows far too much about what I do in the bathroom."

Eddie smiles, but then is clearly headed back towards making excuses for his insane life decisions. His gluttony. His hoarding. 

"But-" 

Gareth pivots. He might not be able to reason with a crazy Eddie, but he knows someone who can, does, "Does Steve know about this? Because he's gonna shit."

And he will. Steve doesn't stand for superfluous anything on the road. He has everything down to a science. Last week he even made Gareth get rid of one of his jackets, because he'd apparently crossed the threshold of the acceptable amount of luggage, at least as far as Steve was concerned. 

Gareth liked that jacket.

So, Eddie squirreling away all the soap he can carry for no damn good reason? Not efficient in the slightest. Steve can't know about this, and he's gonna be pissed when he finds out. For sure.

"Just help me unload it," Eddie demands, and before he can ask what he means by that, Eddie slides forward the sticker-laden dead with the warped lid. Instead of tossing it, Goodie wants it fixed, so it's been taking up space, but when Eddie flips it open, it's absolutely jam-packed with more of his secret stash. 

"Oh my god. Wait, is this a growing up poor thing?" Gareth asks, and Eddie pauses. Gareth never wanted for anything. It may have just been the two of them, but Mama Jones had it under control.

If this is that, well, maybe Gareth could understand. Could give him a pass.

Eddie gives him a withering look, saying, "No. Wayne would hate this, too."

"Then why are you doing it? Damn," Gareth asks, laughing.

"Because we paid for it. And they just throw them away if we don't take them."

"That's crazy talk," Gareth answers.

"They do! And it's built into the price. Of the hotel rooms. The flights. The gig contracts."

"Eddie," Gareth says, then changes tactics. "Fine. I'm sure that's true. But, just. Move. Let me," Gareth says, nudging Eddie off to the side. "Get on the bus."

And somehow, Eddie listens, and does.

When Steve sidles up to him, and sees the red milk crates surrounding Gareth's feet in the hotel parking lot, Gareth sorting the loot, he's instantly irritated, "What're you doing? What's all this doing here?" Steve asks, arms waving. "For fuck's sake, Gareth, what have you been taking all this shit for? Do you know how much this extra weight affects gas mileage?"

And Steve seems to be doing that math in his head.

Gareth grinds his teeth together, "This was not me. This was Eddie."

"Oh," Steve says. Immediately changing his tune, softening, which is fucking annoying. Eddie would never have to get rid of a jacket.

Steve then asks, "What's the plan?"

Gareth nudges the crate full of liquor bottles, and they all clink together, "Day drinking?"

Steve puts his hands on his hips. 

Gareth picks up the one full of shampoo, "I was thinking about donating them to a homeless shelter or something. My mom volunteers at one back home. Says they always needed stuff like this. Eddie hoarding them isn't helping anyone, it's just as wasteful as leaving them to be tossed, right?"

And Steve pauses. Thinking.

"You can't donate liquor to the homeless," Steve says.

And Gareth laughs, "Well, I didn't mean the liquor. That we'll keep. Have some fun. I'm gonna deserve a drink or ten after sorting out this mess your boyfriend has made."

"Oh, he's my boyfriend when you don't like whatever he's doing, but your best friend any other time?"

Gareth laughs, and nudges against Steve's shoulder, "Exactly."

"Alright," Steve concedes.

Great. Awesome. Gareth had the idea, the plan, but he definitely needs Steve to be the one to figure out how to implement it.

And Steve does.

From then on, the sorted milk crates live in the under bus storage compartment. And now it's not just Eddie, no, now all of them save and throw their unused freebies into the correct ones after each stop. Soap. Shampoo. Conditioner. Lotion. And if they ask the front desk for toothbrushes or razors that they've forgotten from time to time, well, then that's their own business. 

And yeah, the liquor they keep for themselves. But they don't let it languish, hidden away. Instead they drink it, doing shots, playing cards as they rumble down the highway, getting tipsy as they cheat more and more blatantly at cards the drunker they get. It's fun. 

When a crate of toiletries gets full, Steve has a plan, a connection, of where they can donate it, wherever they currently are in the country.

It really doesn't take long for word to spread, and then there's a charitable foundation with a damn good purpose bearing Corroded Coffin's name, and several other touring bands helping. Reaching out to Steve. Their reputation precedes them: they're the heavy metal band that gives back. That they don't destroy hotel rooms, just rescue the toiletries from them that were destined for a landfill anyway.

Before long, many hotel managers start meeting them at check-in, handing over boxes of toiletries they want to donate to the cause.

Eddie's hoarding, his gluttony, turned on its head, and instead is being used for some real good.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[yearnstarved]

─── ⋆ NEZHA? Chang'e had sent her guard to escort their visitor into the palace. Leave it up to the third prince to come at an inopportune time for Guanghan palace. Her pacing left a trail of figure 8's across the cold jadite floor.

"My lady. Nezha approaches." The announcement rang through the hallways and beyond. She smoothed out the layers of her gown and held her hands poised and clasped together.

Her head nodded in a quick bow. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit from our stinky boy? I have to admit you've come at a time where things are in a state of DISARRAY." Normally Jade Rabbit would be by her side as he always had been for the past millennium upon millennium. Today she was alone—a sight jarring for everybody in the palace from top to bottom.

( @inmiasma | NEZHA )

[iwillruletheuniverse]

Mum got her magazine about antiques today. Oliver Rhy Girl With Magpie was sold in june: I often called Thomas magpie❤️