#magpie is so extra

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

'Five for silver, six for gold, seven for secrets to never be told.'

[majormeilani]

pick your poison

[ash-and-starlight]

sooo so happie to launch into space the art i did for this @zukkabigbang2024 for the beautiful fic

The Mercy of Magpies

written by the wonderful showstopping @ranilla-bean and betaed by the equally iconic @faux-fires. Featuring dilves, birdies, true love, war, crazy plans, dubious plastic surgery and a galaxy far, far away. Please check out the rebloggable fic post with its special cover art here (or jump directly to the fic, I can't blame you, it is That Good)

also, some extra juicy plot relevant characters pop up in later chapters and havent been included for 👀 spoiler reasons 👀 but you can already try to guess who they are who's that pokemon style <3

[nipuni]

A little life update!

I'm back from our latest trip and leaving again in a couple of days but! I can finally say we are officially moving! 😄

We've been looking for houses travelling back and forth from Galicia weekly these last few months. It was an ordeal in many ways, a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare honestly, we found and lost many houses and spent so much money, time and braincells in the process. But in the end we found the most amazing house so it was worth it!! In our favorite city, beautiful antique furniture, several floors, extra rooms for hobbies, enclosed balcony, a fireplace, a whole garden with a lemon tree!! and for the same rent price than what we are paying for our small apartment in Madrid now lmao, big city prices are nonsensical 😭

We met the neighbors over the garden fence one morning and they are so lovely, they have apple trees and offered some to us and we met their dog too and they told us the story of the house and the people who have lived in it and places and customs of the town and offered to take us to the farmers markets to teach us about the best choices 🥺

We also met our landlady's family and they are so nice and friendly too. They helped us out with furniture, all their children and husband helped too and we offered to invite them all for dinner sometime to thank them when we are settled and they said they would invite us instead because they are six and we are two lmao Ahhh I just can't believe this is all real, it feels like a dream.

The weather is also colder and way rainier and we can finally enjoy summer like the earth intended, I'm no longer a summer hater!! We have wildflowers and mushrooms and magpies in our garden!! and chestnuts!! and an attic!! and a stone grill!! and a big bright kitchen aaaaa I can't stop gushing about everything

Nicolas is so happy too, he has been teaching himself everything about gardening and house keeping and the animals and plant species of the area. We already told all our friends and family to plan their trips to visit us since now we can host them more comfortably and for longer stays!!

I can't wait to be done with the move and start our new town life close to the sea in a beautiful house with friendly people and peace and quiet what the hell!! I never thought I could ever have something like this in my life I'm so serious 😭

[mothyandthesquid]

A new batch of Magpie so it is back in stock for @thewoolmontyshow on the 8th & 9th June. I am working extra hard just now as I am writing my dissertation this summer so I have to earn enough to get me through that period.

[spookyrea]

Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?)

Everyone keeps pointing out the fact that Loki can't keep his hands off of you - but that's just the kind of guy he is, right? Right...? (Or: the one where Loki keeps giving you mixed signals and you decide to take matters into your own hands. To mixed results.) Chapter 1 / 2 to read on AO3, click here

The office was empty and drearily dark; the sun had only barely crossed the horizon, bathing the 27th floor of the Avengers Tower in a deep purple haze. The early morning silence was tempered only by the sound of rain pattering against the window and the occasional rumble of the metro a couple blocks away. It was the kind of morning best enjoyed in bed under a mountain of blankets - not filling out cost-analysis reports.

Fury had had you out in the field for three weeks straight on consecutive missions, meaning you had returned home -  bruised, exhausted, dreaming of clean sheets and hours of mindless television -  to a veritable mountain of paperwork. Paperwork that you probably could have finished by now - or, at least, made way more progress on - if it weren’t for your resident distraction-on-legs.

Loki rearranged himself in the seat across from you; the toe of one of his meticulously polished shoes bumped against your sneaker, bullying its way between your feet to hook around your ankle. Your desk lamp cast a warm golden glow across his cheeks, accentuating the long line of his nose and the narrow cut of his jaw. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was loose and curling wildly.

You signed off on the file in front of you, pointedly ignoring the warm flush that crept along the back of your neck, and added it to the mounting pile to your left.

Not twenty minutes after you’d settled in at your desk, Loki had strolled out of the elevators into the office. With all the magnificent theatrics he could muster, he’d thrown himself into the chair opposite yours - his chair - and plucked up the paperback he’d left dogeared a fortnight ago.

(Loki had a desk, kitty-corner to yours in the Avengers semi-circle. He seemed to prefer to sit at yours and complain about the lack of space.)

Not that it mattered where he sat. Your eyes seemed intrinsically magnetized to him; to the dark curls that brushed his jaw; to the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. You could spend hours watching the meticulous flick of his wrist when he crossed his t’ s, or the way his fingers deftly rolled his cufflinks free to turn his sleeves up. 

Or, like you were doing right now; your pen hovered lamely over your paper while you admired him through the fan of your eyelashes, fixated on the way his index finger and thumb rolled the corner of one page as he read.

“Particularly interested in fourteenth-century extraterrestrial poetry, are we?” Loki intoned. Your eyes darted up to find that his were already on you, watching with a peculiar expression. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that he wasn’t human, but up this close there was a preternatural edge in his eyes that pinned you in place.

“No,” You replied quickly. Flustered, you flipped a random dossier open and scanned it over, adding the appropriate signature on every other page. Loki’s eyes burned a hole in the side of your face - you could practically feel the patronizing arch of his brow. “Just tired. Zoning out. You know. What was the name of the knife you let me borrow?”

“Earthbreaker.”

“Right, thank you.” You jotted the name down under Resources Returned With. It was the only weapon you’d not lost in Shanghai; all your other daggers and close-combat tools had been dissolved by an alien gunk that ate through Earthly metals like sugar in water. Loki had sliced the offending creature’s head clean off its shoulders before flipping the knife around to you, hilt-first. 

You did not, however, mention the pocketful of extra-terrestrial stones Loki had shared with you after the fact - but you knew from experience that Finance didn’t care about Loki’s magpie-like tendencies.

( These were very rare on Asgard. Courtiers sometimes sewed them into their sleeves as symbols of status.

They’re beautiful.

Yes, he’d agreed. But I think they’d look better against your arm, no?)

You finished off a comment on page seven and tucked your report into the Shanghai, Domestic (Earth) Threat folder. Despite Tony’s seemingly endless pockets, the Avengers finance department was meticulous about tracking your spending, which required an extreme detail when justifying any and all decisions made out in the field.

(It probably had something to do with the Berlin Incident, where a stray explosive arrow and a couple hundred tons of Hulk had cost Stark Enterprises a few hundred million dollars. Which, you would like to remind everyone, was not your fault. You were off a few blocks away wrestling mutant bat-dog-horses away from some celestial object intent on challenging Thor for his hammer.)

Loki materialized something out of thin air and slipped it between the pages of his book. “I think a break is in order, pet.”

“It’s only been forty-five minutes.” 

He flicked an errant curl out of his eyes while leveling you with a truly magnificent pout. “Forty-five agonizing minutes.”

“You haven’t even done anything today.”

“I’ve been keeping you company. It’s exhausting work. Really - I have a sudden appreciation for the court jesters back home.”

“Well your jester routine could use some work.”

Loki gasped. “I’ll have you know I am a wonderful jester.”

With a syrupy petulance, Loki plucked the folder from your hands and handed it off to the little robot Tony had assigned to the bullpen - the Paperwork Assistant Lite, or PAL for short. PAL shot off with a chirp, zipping on his tiny treads, the security badge on his chassis swinging merrily behind him.

You tried to tug your foot away in retaliation but Loki was faster. His other foot slid along the side of your shoe until your ankle was trapped between both of his. You twisted in his grip but with a quick yank Loki had you teetering on the edge of your seat. He leaned across the desk and bracketed your forearms with his. “Yield.”

You blew out a breath and screwed your face up in mock defiance. “No.”

“Do not force my hand, mortal.” His eyes shone a brilliant green and a crackling bolt of seidr whispered across your wrists warningly. He plucked your pen from your hand and tossed it aside carelessly. “Yield.”

“You’ll run out of things to throw eventually.” You swatted ineffectually at his calf with your other foot.

“And when that happens, it will be you I put over my shoulder.”

He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You could hear the storm outside swelling; the rain was deafening, the wind rattling the glass in its frame. The desk groaned under his weight as he leaned in just a hair closer. Your breath caught in your chest as his mouth parted, lips shiny where he’d chewed them in contemplation. “You’ll yield one day, pet.”

The train rumbled along in the distance.

Twenty-seven stories below, a car horn blared.

Your pinky brushed the inside seam of Loki’s sleeve, and the whisper of skin on wool seemed deafening.

Loki fell back in his seat with a shove and loosened his grip. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “What if I promise to leave you alone. On the condition that you let me buy you breakfast.”

You blinked at him. “Alone-alone? Or ‘alone for ten minutes before you blow up the coffee machine’ alone?”

He nodded grimly. “Alone-alone.”

You sank back in your chair. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that the smarter, more sensible part of your brain cautioned you about. When you didn’t immediately respond, he offered his hand and wiggled his fingers enticingly.

“Fine.” As soon as you acquiesced, Loki unfolded from his chair and rounded the desk. He had already pulled your jacket off the back of your chair in the time it took you to locate your security badge and was holding it out for you. He helped you slip your arms in and straightened the collar so it lay flat across your shoulders. “But I fully intend on eating you out of house and home.”

He grinned. “Only the best for my little mortal.”

Loki stood at mock attention, his body ramrod straight but eyes slitted rebelliously, and offered you his arm. You rolled your eyes but did not deny yourself the luxury of folding your hands over his bicep.

Sleepy beams of sunlight filtered through the gaps between high-rises, drowned out by sheets of rain. The first few commuters were filtering along the sidewalk, heads bowed and shoulders up to block out the chill. Loki magiced an umbrella from nowhere and drew you in tightly. The cover it provided was cramped, giving you an excuse to tuck into his side. 

The two of you made the three-block journey to your usual coffee shop in companionable silence. It wasn’t until he had deposited you safely under the store’s awning that he dropped your arm, only to usher you inside with a hand on your back.

The shop was a hole-in-the wall, the kind of place without any seating except for a few mismatched tables in the back. Narrow enough that you could almost touch either wall if you stretched hard enough. But the coffee was good and the food even better, and on freezing mornings like this it was a welcome distraction from the sharp cold outside. 

Your usual barista, Yvonne, barely glanced up when you entered. Her dark eyes flickered knowingly between the two of you, lingering on the casual way Loki thumbed the seam of your coat sleeve.

“Morning,” She pulled open the pastry display and piled an assortment into a paper bag for you. “Coffee will be just a second. You want to try something new today?”

Loki was already nodding, sliding a stack of bills across the laminated countertop. To you, he said: “pick whatever you want, pet,” and then slipped to the end of the bar to wait for your drinks.

Yvonne dipped into the kitchen before returning with a little plastic container. “It’s a new recipe but we’re not sure if we’re going to sell it yet. Let me know what you think.”

You smiled and accepted the box, along with a paper bag containing your usual orders - a bagel for you and a couple of honeyed pastries for Loki. You and Loki were the only patrons in the shop, so you didn’t feel too bad lingering at the register. Yvonne leaned her forearms on the counter and poked your forearm. “So how’s it going with… you know.”

You took a forlorn bite of your bagel and cast your eyes to the end of the bar. Loki was chatting with the other barista, leaning over the counter to whisper something conspiratorially to her. She hung off of every word which, how could you blame her. He was, after all, charming and handsome and princely and a notorious flirt.

It was no secret that Loki thrived off of attention. When he had first arrived in his brother’s tow he’d been nothing but easy grins, sandwiched between Thor and Banner. It only took a week before Loki was grudgingly accepted after helping to stop the Bad Guy of the Week in a fishing town in New Brunswick, Canada and saving Natasha’s life, and it only took a year and another brush with near-death - which involved Loki using his seidr to literally hold Steve’s insides inside - for him to gain some leeway among the team. 

Which he abused immediately.

He was a terror. He was unpredictable, constantly underfoot, and he and Thor spent just as much time brothers-in-arms as they did at eachothers’ throats. He flirted his way out of most scrapes and connived his way out of the rest. Meaning - he absolutely thrived.

You had all come to rely on having him in your back pocket for missions. He was a great strategist and an even better fighter - even if he gave Tony a run for his money in the obnoxiousness department.

And you liked him. You really liked him - liked his company, liked his dry sense of humor. You liked the way your stomach swooped every time you heard his voice from around the corner, and how your heart clenched whenever he shot you a private smile during briefings. He was a great sparring partner and he seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed a pep talk. But his attention never settled on you the way it did on marks or pretty secretaries or baristas.

A larger-than-insignificant part of you understood that what Loki liked about you was how your focus never waned. He liked the attention - for his little mortal to fawn over him. 

You’d thought he’d been interested at first, in the week after he’d saved Natasha. 

The touching. 

The pet names.

And then months went by and you watched him flirt with anything that breathed. And, on one occasion, something that didn’t.

“I still think he likes you,” Yvonne said. “He practically hangs off of you. Like one of those little baby sloths in a Dodo video.”

“That’s just Loki,” you said around a mouthful of bread. You’d confided in her a few weeks prior about your little crush in a moment of weakness and she, like Natasha, had taken to the cause like a dog to a bone. “He’s like that with everyone. I mean - look at him. He doesn’t really like me like that.”

The doorbell chimed, and Yvonne pushed away with a dramatic sigh. “He’s an ass then. Not worth it.”

“Who’s not worth what?” Loki sidled up beside you, coffee cups balanced in either hand. Yvonne shot you a look and waved the question away. You said a hurried goodbye and let Loki corral you into the deluge outside.

Heavy droplets of rain battered the pavement. Cars trudged along through broad trenches of water. Sliding his arm around your waist, Loki steered the two of you back the way you came. He held you tightly against his side to keep you both under the umbrella, so that your hips bumped with every other step and you could feel the heat coming off his coffee cup at your elbow. You took a sip of your own drink to distract yourself.

“Oh, I think you gave me your drink by mistake.” You pulled the cup away to check the label. Instead of an order, you found a ten-digit phone number scrawled in thick black marker.

“Terribly sorry, pet.” You didn’t miss how Loki’s grip tightened on your forearm when you strayed a little too far from the umbrella. He swapped your drinks, then made a disinterested noise. “I have to admire her bravery. I mean, it was clearly a stupid decision, but brave none the less.”

“Oh, be nice. The poor girl can’t help being charmed by your wiles.”

“I am devilishly charming, aren’t I?” Loki jostled you with his shoulder. You swallowed a sigh when he turned his nose into your cheek, his hot breath fanning over your jaw. “But I’m clearly not interested.”

“Loki,” you chided. “Your idea of clearly not interested is most peoples’ ‘oh god take me now’.”

“Preposterous. On Asgard we took courtship incredibly seriously. There were steps involved. A whole process. That,” he waved his hand, “was merely my enchanting nature.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jane told me that Thor offered her the head of a robot overlord he took down in Brazil.”

Loki pulled you to a stop to wait for the crosswalk sign to turn. “It likely would have been a stag on Asgard. Thor made do with what he could. Though I always imagined myself offering up a manticore, personally. Maybe a giant serpent.”

You hummed. “What a romantic.”

Loki shot you a curious look. “I spent much of my boyhood imagining how I might court my future mate. The gifts. The parties. I always imagined a woman at the edge of a dancefloor, how I might ask her to dance. She’d be dressed in my colours in a public declaration. Covered in gold. My sword at her hip…”

The crosswalk chirped. Loki drew you along, finishing lamely: “So no. That’s not ‘interested’.”

The rain was coming down harder, whipped up by the wind so it blew directly in your faces. A bead of water slid down your cheek; the umbrella only covered so much, and dark splotches were beginning to pepper the shoulders of your jackets and creep up the hem of your pants. A chill had settled over your skin unpleasantly… yet you couldn’t help but groan as you rounded the corner and the crisp steel contours of the Avengers tower melted into view.

Loki glanced over his shoulder, a boyish grin tilting his lips upwards. A few damp curls clung to the column of his throat.  “Tell you what, pet. Why don’t I practice my court jester routine a little longer?”

Loki crowded you against the side of the Avengers tower, shielding you from the worst of the storm. He launched into regaling you about the book he was reading - a collection of alien poetry from sometime around Earth’s 14th century, found in one of Tony’s art collections gathering dust. ( We called them engagements on Asgard. Because suitors would often ‘forget’ them in their intendeds’ parlors as an excuse to return later. ) All the while, he drew the plastic container Yvonne had given you from your paper bag and pried the lid off. Inside was a collection of small pastries with cracked sugar shells on top - profiteroles, you thought. Loki plucked one and gestured with it wildly to emphasize his point, nearly upturning the entire box in his enthusiasm.

“Okay, that’s enough.” You took the container from him and held it securely in your free hand. “What were you saying?”

“I was quoting. I said ‘ If love was like an ocean, then mine was like a well.’”

“Deep and drinkable?”

“Hand-dug.” Loki popped the sweet in his mouth. His eyebrows rose comically. “That’s good. That’s very good,” he said around a mouthful.

You hummed and held out your coffee so you could try. Instead, Loki took another one out and held it up to your mouth.

You sputtered out a nervous laugh. “What? No, take my coffee.”

Loki tsked and prodded your lips with the dessert. He fixed you with a strange look, something coy but serious at the edges. A warm flush rose along the back of your neck under his scrutiny, growing so unbearable by the second that eventually you opened your mouth and let him place the treat between your teeth. Sweet cream burst out of crisp, flaky pastry and chips of hard sugar - he was right, it was delicious. 

His narrowed eyes shone with mirth. “Good?”

Your breath stuttered when Loki pressed his lips to the pad of his thumb, licking away some sticky residue. His mouth pulled away with a wet peach sort of sound.

Your knuckles brushed the fabric of his shirt, warmed by his skin - a pleasant contrast to the cold, wet city air. You felt his muscles twitch under the barest touch. 

His mouth tipped upwards; the back of your hand slid against his abdomen when he leaned his hand against the wall next to your head, dominating your personal space.

In a panic, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Do you have a date for the party tonight?”

“Oh sweetling,” he purred. “I thought you would never ask.”

You grimaced. “Very funny. I thought you would have already asked Emily from Accounting.”

Loki blinked down at you. “What?”

“Emily? Tall, big hair, legs for days?”

“Why would I ever ask her?”

You picked at the label printed on your coffee cup. “I don’t know. I just figured someone like you would…”

“Would…?”

You huffed out a sharp breath and glanced at him from the corner of your eye. A strange expression had crossed his face. You regretted asking at all; it wasn’t like you wanted to know the answer to that question anyway.

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’ll be fending people off left and right anyway.”

Silence settled over the two of you, decidedly less comfortable this time. His hand slipped from the brick wall and into his coat pocket roughly.

“Do you… Do you have a date tonight?”

“No! No, I…” You laughed uncomfortably. “No. No dates right now.”

Loki hummed. The furrow between his brows lessened but only slightly. 

You pushed away from the wall a little awkwardly, still balancing the box of profiteroles in your hand. Loki followed a step behind, pulling the door open for you mechanically. 

You rode the elevator up in silence.

When you reached the floor for the common office, you found PAL waiting dutifully outside the elevator. His little paper tray bobbed as he spun circles around your feet. 

“You are entirely too kind to him,” Loki chided while you cooed down at his adorably square face.

“Maybe he’ll be my date tonight. What do you say, PAL? Want to dance the night away?”

PAL lead the two of you to your desk, where he waited for you to assign him another file. The city was shrouded in a thick grey haze behind the floor-to-ceiling windows and bright, early morning light had flooded the room - a far cry from the intimate room you’d left. You sighed and slunk heavily into your seat.

Loki loitered. He drew the tip of one long finger down the cover of one of your folders, flipping through a quilt of post-it notes. “Ok. I’ll keep my promise and let you work now.”

“Thank you.” Before he could leave you reached out and grabbed his sleeve. He startled, glancing down at your hand before his eyes flickered back up to yours. You rolled the seam of his coat sleeve between your thumb and forefinger, dropping his gaze when it grew too hot. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

Loki hummed. “I’ll be the one in black.”

You couldn’t help but feel like you’d said something wrong. His hand slipped from yours and into his pocket, his little book of poetry tucked under one arm. Your eyes lingered on the elevator doors long after he’d left.

—

You were in the process of deciding between two pairs of shoes when your front door slipped open. Never one for boisterous entrances, Natasha sashayed down your front hall into your living area, shoes and makeup bag clutched in one hand, and made a bee-line for your bathroom. You padded after her, adjusting your glittery skirt as you went.

It had become customary for you and Natasha to get ready together in your apartment, even outside of Official Team Events, so you didn’t bat an eye when she leant her hip against your counter and started pinning her hair out of her face. You hoisted yourself up onto the bathroom counter while she unpacked her tools, idly playing with a tube of toothpaste in companionable silence.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the crisis you’re having?”

“How can you tell I’m having a crisis?”

Natasha waved her hand, as if to say international super spy, duh.

“Like a twelve,” you moaned. “I can’t do this anymore. I just get so… so awkward around him. And he gets off on it, I know he does. He amps it up to a hundred because he knows it makes me uncomfortable.”

Natasha leveled a look at you through the mirror. 

“He called Lydia in the mail room ‘Enchantress’ for a week. He calls me his pet. ”

“Some guys are into that.”

You made a face. “He’s not a guy though. He’s a god. How could I ever live up to that.”

You heard the front door open. Wanda had promised to come by once she’d gotten dressed. You called out her name, then returned to your moping.

“He just- ugh - he makes me crazy, you know? I like him so much. I swear if he touches me one more time I’m going to burst into flames. Or cry. Or worse, say something embarrassing. Something needy like ‘I love you please oh please let me have your babies’.” You wailed and buried your face in your hands. “I just need to find a guy to fuck it out of me.”

“If you’re looking for sex, Loki would be more than happy to help you,” Natasha grumbled. “Even if he wasn’t doing the roll-over-and-show-my-belly routine for you - which he absolutely is - he’d jump at the chance to ‘fuck it out of you’ .”

“You are not being helpful at all.” You hopped off the counter and adjusted your skirt. You were beginning to regret your decision, but the dress was a beautiful shade of green that both Wanda and Natasha had cooed at over Facetime a week ago. “I’m serious. I just need some random guy to blow off some steam. Get my mind off of him.”

Natasha tossed her eyeliner pencil in her makeup bag and zipped it shut. “Maybe you’re selling yourself short. Maybe you’re way more of a catch than you think you are.”

“And maybe sleeping with someone who actually wants me will fix my ego problem. Maybe my problem is that I’ve been spending way too much time around super soldiers and GQ models. Someone in my league. Someone totally normal who won’t laugh in my face and pat my head like I’m a horny lap dog.”

Natasha tsked. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. So, what’s the plan? You find some guy, take him home, ride him into the sunset and then… Go on pretending you’re not totally in love with-?”

“Don’t say his name! I’m serious, you’re going to jinx it or something.” You glared at her reflection. “The guy doesn’t matter. In fact, he shouldn’t matter. Someone I have absolutely no interest in, who I can spend one fun night with and then move on from. I just need to regain control over the situation.”

“Mhmm. I just don’t see why Loki’s not an option here. Plug this in for me.” You squawked indignantly while she handed over her curling iron. “Worst case scenario, he’s only ok and you never have to talk about it again. Maybe he has a tail or something. Horns.” 

You tried to imagine her head exploding. Or stubbing her toe really hard. Tripping up the stairs. “It’s more complicated than that.”

Natasha hummed. She sorted through the belongings strewn across your bathroom counter mindlessly, straightening out your array of weapons leftover from when you stumbled home in the early morning. One of her manicured fingers traced the edge of an ornate gold knife. Earthbreaker . “Interesting choice for a telekinetic super spy. Abandoning quiet and calculated for something a bit more ostentatious, are we?”

“I’ve been meaning to return that.”

“Return what?” Wanda rounded the corner, a tote bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in another. “Cute dress.”

You smiled. “Thank you. What took you so long?”

“Oh,” Wanda sidled up next to Natasha and began pilfering through her makeup bag. “Nothing, really. I couldn’t decide between this dress or an old red one I found in the back of my closet. I came as fast as I could.”

“No, I mean, I heard the door-”

“She’s going to hook up with a stranger tonight,” Natasha interrupted.

“What? Shit-” Wanda dropped the kohl pencil she was using and licked her thumb, scrubbing at her eyelid. “Wait, why not Loki?”

“I never said I was certain,” you interjected.

“She’s worried he doesn’t feel the same way she does.”

Wanda pouted at her reflection, assessing the symmetry of her eyeliner. “Not to be dramatic but… does it matter? He’d say yes.”

“You don’t know that. Just this morning he turned down a barista when she gave him her phone number.”

“But with a little wine? A little dancing? He looks amazing, by the way, I passed him on my way here.” Wanda turned to face you, leaning her elbows on the counter. “He’ll say yes.”

“Speaking of wine, why don’t I-”

“Worst case scenario he’s only an okay lay. Loki will leap at the chance for a one-night stand. Why would you-”

“I don’t want to just fuck him, okay?” You cried. “I know he’d fuck me. But I want more. ”

You turned on your heel and fled to the kitchen. You had never gotten around to buying wine glasses - something Natasha loved to make fun of you for - so you pulled mugs down at random.

It was only your familiarity with Natasha that tipped you off to the fact that she’d joined you. You avoided her eyes while digging through your cutlery drawer for a corkscrew.

“Babe.” Natasha took you by the shoulders and tipped her head so you were eye level. “Hey. Tell me what the worst-case scenario is.”

You shrugged, a little pathetically. “I don’t know. He’s uncomfortable. Or- or he makes fun of me.”

“He already does that.”

“But not- not like this.” You scrubbed the heel of your palm over your eyes. “I really like him. And I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”

“I think you’re gonna lose him as a friend no matter what if this continues. And I think he likes you a lot more than you think. I- and you can never, ever repeat this - I think he’s a lot more empathetic than he lets on. Hell, his brother has tried to kill him multiple times and they live on the same floor.”

Her thumbs worked in small, soothing circles over your shoulders. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against her chest and sighed. “What if he says no?”

“Just ask him to dance tonight. If he says no then no harm, no foul.” She pushed you back by the shoulders and leveled you a look. “We’re master tacticians. We can seduce that stupid peacock. Now come on, come help me do Wanda’s hair. I curl, you pin.”

You took a deep breath in and held it. On the exhale, you pulled away. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You gathered up your glasses. Wine bottle in hand, you started to formulate a plan. A strategy. Something Peter might call Operation Get Laid if he didn’t blush every time a kissing scene came on TV. 

You nodded. “Okay.”

-

part two!

[ohnoitstbskyen]

They turned him into an anime boy haha https://twitter.com/spideraxe30/status/1676427863992463362?s=46&t=iPiW6_AcyhGzA3TEHU2-mg

... hhhhhuh. Yeah okay, that's definitely An Update. Does he actually look any different in-game? Did he get new animation?

Either way, that sure is... a way to approach him. A rather boring way, I feel.

Like, Vladimir is a dandy. Ignoring his terrible, terrible presentation in League of Legends, to me he always felt like he was supposed to be this over-the-top Dorian Grey hyper-hedonistic maximalist pleasure seeker, fully reveling in wearing outrageous fashion and being The Most Extra at all times

Wild Rift Vladimir certainly looks less silly, and a lot prettier (which is, in its way, an improvement, Vladimir SHOULD be an impossibly beautiful pretty boy I think), but this just feels aesthetically way too basic for him.

It's reduced his colors down to just the Noxus Base Palette, and completely removed the decorativism and ornamentation from his outfit. It seems like a design that's going for Sleek™ and I feel like he should look more like covered himself in glue and rolled through Howl Pendragon's bedroom

Like, he should look like he has a taste for the exotic and expensive, someone who hoards trinkets and jewelry and fashion items like a magpie, someone who wants to show you such delights, my dear, oh truly, someone who dazzles and overwhelms with sheer magnitude of decoration.

Someone who disarms his victims by seeming like a harmless, foppish pretty boy, right up until the blade of his claw rises up your neck and he asks you if you won't please stay for a drink.

Which, by the way, if you wanted to tie him more deeply into Noxus as a region, having him be someone ostentatiously displaying the looted aesthetics of regions and cultures that the empire is actively conquering would be a great way to do that. He's basically a vampire, you won't find a more pitch-perfect metaphorical avatar of imperialism than that.

All my criticisms aside, mind you, anything is better than how horrid he looks in League of Legends right now, so call it a step down aesthetically and a big step up in production value.

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

Late, I know, but…! Only by two days, so I’ll still label/tag it:

Ichihime Week, Day 7: Mythical Lovers / Rainbow

I was planning on adding in magpies in the background this time, but I was getting lazy, and it’s already late, so maybe next time ^^;

(Also I was thinking of making a rainbow version, but it didn't come out as I would have liked? Idk. I still think it’s cute, though, so I put it under the cut)

Alrighty, listen: I really didn’t mean to wait this long to post. But, like, very shortly after Eid, my iPad’s storage filled up, like, to the point I couldn’t even access my mail (that’s how I found out, pfft). I was wondering why I’d ever need 256 GB 4 years ago… but still, it was $100 extra bucks. Sure, it was a grad gift, but 128 GB was expensive enough—still a lot of storage, too… Not enough, clearly!

Hoarding layers (and recoloring my own art, pfft) has really caught up to me… but also, it wouldn’t help too much if I didn’t either. After deleting what I could bear to part with, that took away around 5 GB, but merging layers in other works barely made a dent.

So I’ve spent these past few weeks wondering what to do, thinking about emailing my 2019 (imported from my 5s) and 2020 works to an email I also created 4 years ago for some reason I totally forgot about and never used so that I don’t end up taking any space in my actual one and then uploading them onto two (since I really don’t want my files corrupting) USBs via my laptop, trying to get those USBs from Target (but since I was adamant this time in getting 256 GB USBs—I don’t want to have to worry about storage for a longgggg time—there were none in stock), ordering them off of eBay instead since my dad insisted on their cheapness, waiting a week for them, then transferring them to that email and uploading them onto its Google drive if the files was too big…

But that was taking much too long and still left space on my iPad while I was doing it. I managed to complete the 2019 and 2020 pieces from my iPad, but it also only ended up being around 1 GB… So, like, I need to clear more years (breaks my heart, it does ;~; Sure, I still have access to them via that email and those USBs, but it’s not convenient anymore, and there are still pieces I plan on getting back to… ackkkkk).

Contemplating it some more and discussing it with a friend, much as I abhor subscription services, I finally decided to purchase a premium membership on Ibis for that 20 GB of cloud storage. I can afford the 30 bucks a year, and I like the app anyway—serves me good—and not having to watch an ad every 18 hours to access my go-to brushes would be nice, plus having access to the other stuff, but yeah: ✋🌈✨cloud storage✨🌈 🤚

Anyway, I’m pretty sure a good chunk of what’s taking up my space is actually the cache, as I’m already more than halfway through my drawings, and I’m not sure if I’ll reach that 75 GB of storage Ibis was apparently taking up with just my drawings. So I’ll probably need to download everything, then delete the app and redownload it ‘cause stupid IOS doesn’t let you easily clear it 🫠

Anyway, I really thought I’d be done by now, but am not—that said, I managed to clear out around 10 GB off of Ibis (not my iPad; I somehow managed to gain back 5?? Somewhere?? I’ve no clue; I don’t see it), which is wayyy more than enough to get one drawing done for IH week, so I paused the whole storage thing for now. I actually tried to get day one’s drawing done on the 6th, but I’m dealing with perspective that’s hurting my brain, so I decided to get day seven’s done instead, ‘cause I thought I’d be on time…

Me? On time? Man, who knew I was so funny… 😒

But yeah, day seven is done! I’ll definitely revisit that day one drawing in the future, but not anytime soon. As if I wasn’t backed up already, this whole storage mess has backlogged even further, and there are other dates coming up 😮‍💨 And, y’know, gotta finish the storage transfer, too… Ahhhhhhhhhh!

Anyway, on a more positive note, gradient maps are actually very neat to use—had a little too much fun, eheh. I won’t confess how much time I spent testing it out on this piece, but here be my favorite:

They’re so golden <3 ☺️

[i-heart-hxh]

I feel a hundred years late to this but if Nanika’s species is called the Ai then Killua saved Gon with the power of love. And she promised to give Killua back to Gon one day. Birds are also associated with reuniting lovers in the Tanabata festival and Killua and Alluka healed a bird together. Me thinks Togashi is hinting at Alluka playing a role somehow in them reuniting.

Good observations, thanks for sending them in! I've always thought it was interesting Nanika's species is called Ai, too, not just because of this tie-in but also because of the themes of Nanika's story in general as well. It was literally Killua's love for Gon that saved Gon, so that makes it fit extra well.

I definitely think that line Alluka said about giving Gon back to Killua is significant foreshadowing. I tend to take it as an assurance from Togashi that he does fully intend to reunite them and let them be together ultimately, that their separation is temporary and even Alluka knows they need to be together again. It's definitely possible she'll play a role in making that happen.

That's a great observation about the bird backstory! I actually hadn't thought about that in that sense so I'm glad you pointed it out. Another notable thing is that there's already been bird symbology tied in with Killua's story that is very likely connected to his Tanabata birthday/parallels: Canary in particular, and quite possibly the Zoldyck butlers as a whole due to their uniform designs being reminiscent of magpies, which are significant in bringing the separated lovers back together in the Tanabata legend. Here are two great posts on the topic for those who could use more context: Post 1, Post 2

The Tanabata story and the way it ties in with Killua's arc with Gon is one of those things I have a hard time dismissing as far as romantic implications, especially when tied in with all the other romantic implications between these two. Like come on, Togashi definitely knows what he's doing here. It also is a great sign that they will get to be reunited again.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Mint Plays Games: Rotted Capes (And the Lesson I Keep Learning This Year)

Last month I finally played a long-awaited one-shot of Rotted Capes, and I (once again) learned a lesson that’s been leaking into my brain over the course of the past year.

(tldr: you should play games you think you don't like)

The Context

Over the past 4 years, one of the settings my home group has returned to time and time again is our own personal superhero universe. We call it the Dover City Universe (The DCU for short), and we started building it in Spectaculars, by Scratchpad Publishing. Spectaculars is great for folks who like playing in person, and like building their own comics universe, and it comes with a lot of fantastic aids for new GMs who like a structured adventure that they can customize to fit the themes of their table.

Since then we’ve also run games in MASKS by Magpie Games, Henshin by Cave of Monsters, and i’m sorry did you say street magic, by Caro Ascersion. Each game has been an expansion from the original setting, placing a focus on a different location or time period.

Now, one of the players in my group has a really big love for media that turns a bit darker, including post-apocalyptic media, so when we were talking about possible future games, I suggested Rotted Capes, by Paradigm Concepts. He got very excited, and even offered to help me buy it. It then took me nearly 2 years to get it to the table.

The Rules

Rotted Capes is what I consider a crunchy game, far crunchier than what I’m usually willing to tackle. Character creation involves a point-buy system that makes stats and abilities more expensive the higher you push them, and there are many advantages or powers that require you to build your character in a specific way before you have access to them. The rank of your ability, skill or power determines how many dice (and what kind of dice) you roll for any given action, and the ranks also scale the passive modifiers you add to certain things in a very gradual way.

When it comes to the powers, your characters are b-list super-humans - all the A-listers died, disappeared, or turned undead when Z-Day hit, so you’re all that’s left to defend humanity. Not all of you were heroes either. Combat against regular zombies is meant to be reasonably easy (with the bigger threat being bit) while combat against super-Z’s is meant to be terrifying. Rotted Capes provides you with loose categories of superhero types to guide you towards a character build that is going to be useful/effective in combat, but the superhero abilities themselves are general, allowing you to interpret exactly what it means to “generate energy” for your character, or how you have the ability to “entangle” your foe.

When you play the game, your character will roll 2d10 for any given action, and try to beat a difficulty number set by the GM. You add extra dice based on your Attributes, Skills, Powers, and equipment, the dice ranging between d4’s and d12’s, depending on the rank of your skills. As you might see in the above chart, once you get high enough, you might even be adding 2 dice for a rank of something once you get it high enough. Beating a 5 is so trivial, it might not even require a roll. Beating a 40 is an astounding feat, and extremely unlikely.

In combat, players roll Xd10 (X=initiative) and look for the lowest result. This result determines their place on a 12-slice clock. Each player has their own personal clock, while the GM uses a GM clock, which they use to track what slice of initiative is currently happening, as well as where all the NPCs are. Every time the GM moves to a new slice of the clock, whoever is on that slice has a chance to do something, and depending on what kind of move they make, moves a number of slices forward on the clock. They will not be able to act again until the GM hits that slice of the clock. If you do something big and complicated, you can do it, but you’ll have to wait more than a few turns before you can do something else.

There’s also a player resource called Plot Dice, which are dice that you can spend or add to rolls to give yourself a chance of success, help out a friend, resist harm, and re-roll failures. Plot Dice is determined by your lowest Attribute, but they can be refreshed by playing to your character’s personality flaws (the zombie apocalypse changed everyone).

The character sheet for Nautica, the big bad of our session.

The Game

To make this only difficult once, I decided to put the entire table into a Google Sheet, so that I only had to worry about how many points I was spending, rather than continually referring back to the table to change things like passive modifiers or dice sizes.

I also took on the bulk of character creation, asking my friends to build half of a character (choosing archetype, highlighting favourite powers, and describing to me their background) and then doing the number crunching on my own, to make sure I knew how their character abilities worked. I did this because I was the only one who had reliable access to the rulebook, and I knew that asking a group of people to study how to play a game just for a single one-shot was not likely to work out.

The players all made very different characters. We had an ex-military martial artist who showed no mercy, a former sidekick who was still learning how to use his fire-powers, and an ex-villain trash man who could talk to rats and mainly fought using sticky bombs and magnets. When we rolled up to game day, we passed around printed versions of the character spreadsheets, the initiative clocks, and a number of polyhedral dice. I set the scene for the culinary school the characters were looting, and ran the group through 2 easy combats and 1 terrifying confrontation with a villain (who was one of my old DCU characters, but in an older, grislier form). After the combat, we spent about half an hour talking about the hideout where our enclave was camping out in, and playing through ending scenes between the heroes and various NPCs.

The Takeaway

I bought Rotted Capes for two reasons, and neither of those reasons were because I was genuinely excited about the game. I suggested it because I knew my friend loved the genre and I knew about it in the first place because I had heard about it because I listened to Fandible’s actual play series and the group sounded like they were having a lot of fun. But zombie media isn’t usually my thing, and crunch makes me hesitate because as a GM, I know the bulk of the work is going to be on me.

However, once the initial hurdle of reading and prepping the game was cleared, we had so much fun. The actual rules for rolling were very easy compared to the amount of math that goes into building your character, and the biggest obstacle for the players was trying to navigate all the cells of our Google Sheets.

The two most exciting pieces of game-play for me were the moments where someone got to roll a whole fistful of dice, and when combat clicked. Moving on the initiative clock was so wonderfully intuitive, and having a visual aid made it so easy to keep track of who was going next, and how long you had until you could do something again. Tying your actions to moves on the clock ensures that no one person is doing a bunch of interesting and complex moves one after another - if you do something really complicated or impressive, you have a kind of cooldown before you can try something again. Meanwhile characters who do something small and simple will be able to act again before you know it, and might get to do something right before a villain gets a chance to respond.

This brings me to the big lesson I’ve been learning this year:

Play Games You Might Not Like.

Three of my most positive experiences over the past year were games that I played for reasons other than because I thought they were really cool. I picked up Last Fleet because I needed another space game to run (that I already owned) for our Galaxy Squad run, and it turned into a big dramatic story that was cathartic, satisfying, and truly jaw-dropping in its narrative twists and turns.

I played A Complicated Profession because my co-GM was really excited about it and wanted to use it to lead out from our Scum & Villainy arc. We ended up having the most hilarious time coming up with various customers (including a goat-man played by Danny Devito and his himbo boyfriend).

I played Rotted Capes because I like my friends, and I really love building a superhero universe with them. I ended up discovering an initiative clock that rocked my world, and had a blast throwing mitt-fulls of dice around with my friends.

There were also games that I was super hyped about to play that ended up not being as much of a fun experience as I was expecting. I think that since I had built up such a big idea in my head of what those games would feel like to play, that when the dice hit the table (or in our case, the Discord chat), the result couldn’t possibly live up to what I’d imagined.

So do it. Pick up the game your friend is asking you to play. Take a chance on that game that sounds like it might fit the genre you’re looking for. Read the rulebook for a system you’ve never tried. Not every game is going to be a hit, but in all of that mess you’re going to find real gems that you carry forward into future projects, and come away with moments beyond what you can dream up.

[bogkeep]

some time ago i watched This Video about ergodic literature and got inspired to get the book S. by jj abrams & doug dorst. i've finally started reading it and i have Thoughts

the video i linked shows and explains the premise of the book, but here's the tl;dr - two students(ish) are writing annotations in the margins of a novel called 'ship of theseus' by mysterious author V M Straka while passing it back and forth. they are getting to know each other as well as trying to solve the mystery of Straka. it's a non-linear epistolary story told through a footnotes, scribbled comments, and inserts such as postcards et cetera.

there's a couple reason this book caught my eye in particular:

- i love "two people getting to know each other through letters/accidental text messages/notes" trope. it may just be the internet denizen in me but i'm a sucker for characters who get to know each other through text.

- immediately intruiged by the mystery author's name, Straka - it means magpie in czech, so i feel like i'm getting a head start on the mystery because i'm the specialest little boy in the world!!!!

- it looks cool as hell

(i purchased a used copy that was apparently a library copy so it feels extra Authentic hehe)

ANYWAY i'm still very early in, but i have many impressions to chew on already. first off, i really love the whole premise/medium, and it looks Really Good. there's a lot of really cool details that make it look authentic (if we ignore the COMICALLY LARGE MARGINS) - the book absolutely looks like something i could find in my grandparents' bookshelf. the comments being written in different colours of pen to signal when in the chronology they were written is very good. everything is pointing to a Very Fun and Immersive reading experience.

howeverrrrrrrrrr

while i Am having fun so far, there's also a lot of details that keep shaking my suspension of disbelief. like i am trying my best to hold on to it - im accepting the Comically Large Margins and the silly premise that these two people absolutely had to pass the book back and forth to communicate. like i am fully on board with that. it's just... i feel like this book is trying to Appear more clever than it actually is?

i think maybe the main problem for Me Specifically is that it's pretending to be a book written by a Probably European author and translated to english, but S. was so obviously written/created by americans and not intended to be read by someone who knows any of the languages they're dragging into this.

i was correct in assuming Straka is meant to be czech, as ship of theseus was originally written in czech - but it's weird to me that the narrative is completely uninterested in like... the original? there is a foreword by the translator, who goes on and on about the mysterious circumstances under which v m straka died, but the fact that the original language is czech is mentioned in a *footnote*. i would think a foreword by a translator would, realistically, say more about their credentials or their actual process of translating. or is that weird??? i took a class in classical literature in uni where that's kind of a big deal so maybe i'm biased???

BUT ALSO the fact that straka's identity is So very mysterious and very possibly a pseudonym... if you're like, genuinely trying to untangle this mystery, wouldn't you make a note about the meaning of the name??? like wouldn't you put a picture of a magpie on your conspiracy board about it?? Straka is absolutely a valid czech surname because most czech surnames are seemingly random nouns or adjectives, but if you think it's a pseudonym then someone made a very deliberate choice!!!! HELLO!!!!!!

then they listed the names of people who are thought to possibly be v m straka (of varying nationalities), and like okay maybe i'm nitpicking but i has to take a pen and fix some of them. they used SOME special letters for some of the names but very sporadically - they wrote vaclav instead of václav, and ekstrom instead of ekström... like at least be consistent if you're going to ignore special letters!

the worst language offender by far is this:

if you want "the monkey dances" it's "opice tancuje". you could also do "opičí tanec" for "the monkey's dance". this particular abomination is causing me physical pain.

one of the first inserts i ran into was a letter written in swedish + a direct translation:

GUESS WHAT I CAN READ SWEDISH TOO... i can't tell if the "original" letter is supposed to be the swedish or the english one - while the swedish seems to be grammatically correct (I THINK), it extremely reads as Something Written In English And Getting As Directly Translated To Swedish As Possible. it reads very stilted and oddly phrased. i get the impression i'm not actually supposed to be able to understand it, it's just here for Flavour, and that's fine! this one i can easily justify as the swedish being the in universe translation.

here's another very small thing that made me sigh very deeply

"at what point does this book stop being straka's alone & become *theirs*?" THE BOOK IS CALLED SHIP OF THESEUS. AREN'T YOU GUYS DOING LITERARY ANALYSIS OVER HERE??? IT'S THE FIRST CHAPTER AND YOU'RE JUST SPELLING OUT THE PREMISE TO ME TO THE POINT OF CONDESCENSION.

like. okay. maybe not everyone knows what the ship of theseus refers to (also i want to point out it feels like a very english language phrase to me. it Does exist in czech but it doesn't sound like a good or catchy title i think) - but i really do feel like two university students doing a deep dive into this book + author would 100% analyse the meaning of the title, that's like 101 level stuff!! this comment would be so easy to save - just have Mr Black Pen add a quippy comment about this being a bit on the nose, or pointing out the aptness or irony of the title, Anything. it would add so much to the believability for me.

like i didn't study literature at a higher education level so maybe i'm completely off base, but i DID study art history, and it seems almost absurd to me that these characters are doing so much digging and mystery solving about the author's mysterious past and rereading all of his books to find out more... and not engage with the basicest basics such as, the original text(s) pre-translation, possible cultural contexts, tHE TITLE... why are they drawing connections from choices made BY THE TRANSLATOR that absolutely would not be there in the original czech!! !!???!!!????!!

anyway my biggest actual problem so far is that i'm really struggling to read the actual ship of theseus. i have fun reading the annotations, but the actual book... i am Struggling. i've never been any good at reading ~*The Classics*~ so it might just not be my vibe, but i'm not sure if TOS is even a Good Book? like in this universe it's Allegedly a classic and very iconic or whatever. and obviously it's a challenge to write A Classic that makes its mark on history. and gods know there's discourse about whether or not The Classics are actually good books and that's way above my paygrade. but idk i couldn't get through chapter 1 without skimming through it because it kept boring me so bad.

i suspect i might just, keep reading the annotations storyline and not bother too much with the 'book' part of the book. i genuinely wanna see where the story goes!! despite my complaints i Am sold on the emotional core of it.

i think the premise rules so hard but i really feel like the authors are too monolingual and american and maybe haven't read that many books????? i can't speak on the latter but the former.............. maybe im the one who's too european

[wittebaness]

YAAAAAAY HES HERE!!!!!!!!!! 🥹 I LOVE HIM!!! I love all the little extra goodies too! I put him next to the other one for scale, hehe

@a-magpie-in-gravesfield thank you so much for making these plushies, they are absolutely adorable!!!!

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 6

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Here we are on book 2!

I took a couple days off because my body was perishing (read: my uterus was being a little bitch) but I am back :D

Today's tea is an apple crumble with milk and sugar and my little reading buddy (Charlie) has returned for this chapter Extra Needy and sporting his new necktie.

Let's get into this long chapter:

And we start three years later! I was wondering if there was going to be a time jump and there is! :) p9

Why is everyone so thirsty in this world RE: Ning YingYing p10

Oh dang. I really want to know what's making people melt into skeletons p13

Shen Qingqiu is such a vibe" I know I am physically useless, but i'm also a walking encyclopedia so I bring that to the party" p14 honestly same

So many corpses in the water!! p18

Oh shit, what the heck Wu Chen's legs? p22

RE: Wu Chen I did lol at "Great Master, you call this a bit uncomfortable?!" p 22

this totally feels more like a curse than a standard plague p24

why am I laughing so hard at "fuck me, with this speed, they wouldn't lose to a runner doing the 100-metre hurdles! 'Old Lady'? Yeah right! I must be blind!"p26

oooo! Gongyi Xiao is back! p28

Baby is back too!! Luo Binghe! pp29-31

omg and now there is a height difference! Shen qinqgiu being the smol one p32

Re: on the subject of thinking it was a curse like 15 pages ago, it is not a curse. I don't know why I thought it would be literally anything other than demons LOL this is the plot of the entire fictional universe of this book p37

Luo Binghe still only has eyes for Shen Qingqiu- even after being tossed into hell p38

I truly love the inner monologue of Shen Qingqiu's thoughts vs what people just kind of assume he's feeling. SQQ: Luo Binghe has brainwashed these disciples, he is definitely coming for me, I am fucked. Everyone else: this poor man misses his student so much, he is so hurt that Luo Binghe didn't go back to him.

LOL at Luo Binghe's hatefire at seeing SQQ and Gongyi Xiao bonding together p42

I can't XD SQQ: I have a huge announcement guys, Luo Binghe is back!!!! Everyone else: who tf is that? RIP p44

no shit that demonic activity increasing in frequency is 100% indeed a bad omen. p47

I'm crying SQQ thinks Luo BInghe is about to kill him p48

not the magpie bridge reference p50

This man is just crushing his windpipe for funsies -> why do I feel like this is their dynamic? p50

SQQ is actually an idiot. This fool is continuously operating under the assumption that nothing in the story has changed and the original story is guaranteed. If he heard these words and responded appropriately he'd probably be fine RE: "Then why did you tell me not to put too much weight on race and that no one is intolerable to the heavens" p55

Goddamn is Luo Binghe just going to keep beating the shit out of SQQ?? pp57-59

He really made him drink his blood (side note: when this is all said and done, I need to read some vampire aus) What even is that blood going to do to him?? (do not actually tell me, I assume I will find out soonish) p59

I am once again here to talk about how utterly Fucked SQQ is. He still has 0 idea that Luo Binghe has absolutely claimed him p65

Oh dang. Still, even after all this, SQQ has not shaken his original fate of being hated p69

Bro should have let Qi Qingyi finish that sentence. Re: out of his mind with grief" also probably would have changed some things (even if he was embarrassed as hell) p71

omg so much happening in this scene rn AND then Shen Qingqiu's ex shows up out of no where?!?!?!?!??!!? p73

this man truly cannot catch a break p75

holy shit not even his ex- his wife??????? p75

oop, we have SQQ backstory reveal p77

But also with this reveal: it's a little weird for her though. Like her family takes in this kid from the street, makes him a servant. He continues to serve them, his "family" starts to view him a sibling, AND THEN they get betrothed (not married). Like what. This is wild poor guy- weird because sibling dynamics, also he was their servant. I think she is the weird one honestly. p77

okay, well, he did kill her brother LOL p78

the water prison does not sound good. p81

he really wants to try and last a month there??? best of luck buddy, he cant even handle riding in a carriage without a snack p85

Bonus picture with no notes!

I'm actually so excited for the water prison- it sounds vile, but I need to know how he get's out/how his relationship with Luo Binghe progresses.

[princessbrunette]

im interested to see if kitty!reader x maggie would have insane chemistry or would not work well bc they’re kinda similar in ways… but honestly i feel like maggie could work w any reader she’s so hot

˖ ࣪ ᳝ ࣪ 💭 𖥻♡⌇🩰

you scuff at your black shiny mary-janes, rubbing your feet together on the ground as you avoid the gaze of the girl stood infront of you, toned arms crossed over her cut-off band tee.

“are you really gonna do this all day? i actually have been making a very conscious effort to be nice.” maggie tossed the rag she cleaned her hands off on over her shoulder, and although you weren’t looking at her you could tell there was a ghost of an amused yet vaguely annoyed smile on her face.

“i told on you.” you blurt out suddenly, eyes darting up for a second to hers. she raises her eyebrows, now suddenly more interested in the conversation as she leans against the car she’d been previously been working on.

“you… told… on me?” she questions, and you glance up once more — this time eyes lingering a second longer.

“yeah. to jj. said you hadn’t been cuddling me. because you hate me. jj said he’s going to talk to you.” you sass, awfully proud of yourself. she huffs out a laugh and walks back round to the car bonnet, realising how unserious the whole thing was.

“jj? oh i’m terrified.” she leans over the bonnet and you watch her work at the inside of the car, twisting some kind of valve. “you know i don’t hate you, you’re talking out your ass. i can’t cuddle you because my hands are covered in grease. you’re just mad because i had to wake you up early and if there’s one person who loves sleep more than me in this world it’s you.”

when you don’t respond, she reappears from the car front and looks at you, lips tugging upwards. “does that about cover it sweetheart?”

you pout angrily, swinging you legs from where you sat on her workspace. you were needy and maybe you were just feeling extra needy that day and she wasn’t giving in to your demands, too busy doing, well — her job.

“i just want you to like me, magpie.” you cross your arms and her body deflates, squinting and shaking her head.

“i actually don’t like anyone but you. crazy, right?” she leans her hands either side of where you sit, faces close. “known jj since we were kids and you’re still my favourite person. i’d say that’s an achievement.” she lilts in that raspier voice that you can’t resist.

your lips press together as if resisting a smile, and she grins before leaning in and kissing you. “oh and if you’re gonna snitch on me to jj, atleast tell him to bring me a coffee when his scrawny ass gets here. all your attitude is wearing me out.” she pushes off where she leans, back to her usual ways. you consider going back to yours, but maggie made you soft.

˖ ࣪ ᳝ ࣪ 💭 𖥻♡⌇🩰

[yanderelmk]

It's my birthday today 😊🎂

How do various yanderes celebrate their darling's birthday?

~💜💫

Oh my gosh happy birthday!! :D For the sake of not running out of space Imma group this together: ☀️MONKEY MEN🌑: They tried to make you a birthday cake...thing is neither of them know how to bake. They had to set their bitterness aside (or- well, they tried to) and the result was Wukong trying to distract you while Macaque scrambled around trying to find you something, even sending out his clones so he could sweep multiple stores at once (while pocketing a few shiny things for himself b/c mfer is a magpie). 🚦TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO🚦: Mei got you a gift weeks in advance, she stays on top of birthdays. Same for Red Son! MK however didn't remember until the night before because ADHD is a bitch, but he likely ended up drawing a bunch of pictures of you, him, Red Son, and Mei. Mei also has a cake ready b/c she's The Best Ever. The trio's general vibe is just "BFFs 5ever because it's longer than 4" and everyone they care about is given the same treatment. 📖FREE NOODLES🍜: Pigsy is gonna be cookin' up a whole-ass STORM!! All of your favorite foods will be made, and breakfast is definitely served in bed. Dinner's gonna be a whole feast with the cake made extra special. Tang's the type of guy that follows "It's your birthday, so whatever you say goes!" He'll be fully open to trying out something new, and his gift is going to relate to a really niche subject that he knows you absolutely adore. It's likely he's done research to make sure he got the gift just right! 🕷️SPIDER DEMONS🕸️: These four are so wild it's funny. Spider Queen probably used her silk to make you a really fancy outfit, Syntax (who had your birthday set up as a reminder on his phone) probably is gonna give you some kind of drone that can help you out with mundane stuff (you get to name it). Goliath tried to make something, but whatever it is it's gonna be messy...he did his best. Huntsman? Deadass he probably went to go hunt your favorite animal so he could stuff it. If your favorite animal isn't in the area or it's a fictional one catch this extra-ass motherfucker carving a big-ass statue of it.

They had these gifts prepared. They knew your birthday was coming. They still all forgot until the actual day/the night before, for various reasons. Hey, at least the gifts are well-made. ☠️BONE DUO👻: Both the Lady Bone Demon and the Mayor are going to appear on your doorstep at midnight. They have a full day planned with ways to celebrate your birthday and 'no' is not an option. You will be spoiled!! The Mayor's got enough money to take you out in style, probably in his limo to fancy restaurants, most likely one of those rotating ones. The gifts will be exactly what you need, even if you didn't know you needed it yet. Even if it seems odd at first, best to just go along with it. 🪷CELESTIAL SQUAD🌙: Chang'e has a gigantic cake prepared, most likely one layer for each year of your life. She's been working on this for forever!! Nezha helped her prepare a big party on the moon for you. Both of them are likely to gift you presents of Celestial origins (blessed jewelry that protects you from demonic possession, or a very rare book). They might have lost count of their own ages, but they understand how important birthdays are to some people. 🦁THE🐘BROTHERHOOD🦅: They're completely unfamiliar with how mortals celebrate birthdays, but they're going to do their best. Cake? OK sure they can make one (it looks god awful). Presents? Surely any mortal would appreciate dangerous weapons and armor (it's horribly wrapped)! With the whole "listen to the birthday person" thing they might take it too literally. Like if you say "Let's hit the road" they are going to demolish that goddamn road b/c you said to and are the birthday person. Your wishes must be followed. They're trying they really are.

[humanityinahandbag]

What Rhymes with Chest Hair (pt 2)

Steve is around more. 

He was around before, swinging by to pick up Eddie for movies or drives to D&D or physical therapy. 

Only now Steve’s around the same way as Wayne’s wall calendar or Eddie’s miniatures. Steve’s around like the wallpaper, the couch, the magnets on the fridge, or the mugs across the kitchen’s back wall. 

He’s a fixture. A part of their little home.

Ever since the phone call, Steve’s made a point of drifting closer and closer to Eddie’s orbit, and bits of Steve begin to exist everywhere Wayne turns. Suddenly there’s an extra toothbrush in a cup by the bathroom sink, Nike’s by the door, cans of hairspray in the hall closet. 

Eddie’s sunflower petals were still pressed in the pages of books, a red sticky hand was at his bedside. 

And new items appear, too. New little tokens Eddie collects like a magpie. A mood ring from a gumball machine, a new set of paintbrushes set to dry on a newspaper, a collection of notes stuck to the fridge in Steve’s handwriting (all of them mundane and ordinary; reminders for dates and times and medication schedules, and Eddie keeps each and every one of them close). 

But now, when Steve hands them over, his eyes meet Wayne’s, and he smiles. A secret thing between them. 

I like your son, it says. I hope I can be enough for him.

Wayne nods his head back, always. You’re all he wants. He hopes Steve can hear that, somehow. 

To watch Eddie fall in love is a privilege Wayne nearly lost. It’s sweet. Simple. Full of kindness and care and pink faces and twirled hair. His boy is wonderful. And deserving.

There was just one issue. 

His wonderful, deserving kid wasn’t fucking getting it. 

-

On the first Saturday after The Phone Call, Eddie comes back home from Gareths with a pink tinge across his face that doesn’t slip past Wayne. While Eddie shucks off his sneakers, Wayne peeks out the window. In the driveway Wayne watches Steve back out the driveway. He catches Wayne’s eyes and throws him a wave and then heads off down the road.

“Steve drop you off?”

“Mmhm,” says Eddie, picking at the tight knot of laces.

“You could’ve called me,” says Wayne. “If you needed a ride back home.”

Eddie swallows and pauses untying his shoes. “I didn’t call him.”

“You didn’t-”

“He sat in on band practice.” Eddie says it quickly, ducking his head as if Wayne might not notice he’d dropped that little gem onto the floor. “He asked if he could last week.”

“Oh?”

Eddie pulled off one sneaker, and then the other. He rose up but still didn’t look at Wayne. 

“Did he like it?”

Wayne finally gets a peek at Eddie’s eyes under his bangs, though most of his face vanishes anyway when his kid pulls hair in front of his smile. “He told me I was really good.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Amazing,” Eddie says, in what Wayne would call a swoon. “That’s what he said. He wants a private concert, he said, sometime. Told me he wanted to learn a little if I would teach him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Eddie drops his hair and laughs. His eyes sparkle. “The guys couldn’t even believe it. That Ste-eee-eve Harrington was there to see me! But he was and he sat down and clapped after every song and-” He pauses. The sparkle in his eyes shuts off as he watches Wayne’s face soften into a smile. “Wait. Wait.”

“Eddie-”

“No. I know what you’re going to say. And it’s- he’s not like that, Wayne.”

“I’m just saying-”

“He’s not.” Eddie looks moments from stomping his foot. “He’s just. He’s so great and I can’t. I won’t. I just.” He sucks in a breath and lets out a groan, turning on his foot and stalking away to the backyard, slamming the sliding door. 

It slides open and he stalks back in. “And I can’t even smoke anymore!” he snaps 

“I quit, too.” Wayne pats his chest. “Lungs have never felt better.”

“At least you still can poison your lungs.” 

Wayne snorts and hopes next time might fare better.

-

(Next time does not fare better.)

-

Find the rest of the story here on AO3!