#martina belli

[pocketseizure]

After years spent investigating the mysterious shrines of East Necula, Dr. Calip has joined the Zonai Survey Team’s efforts to study the Ring Ruins of Kakariko Village. The ancient structures are fascinating, but what has captured Calip’s attention is the chasm in the forest on the hill. While Calip has been gazing into the abyss, however, the leader of the Zonai Survey Team has been gazing at him.

complete at 4,000 words . ( on AO3 ) . illustration by Martina Belli

[tonytylerdraws]

@drawinglinestoconstellations

Take my hand 🫴

Fanart by MartinaBelliMB

[dracimexidae]

GRAZIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE 😭💥🎉 💚🤍❤️

[verystrawberryfestival]

Warning: Belly/fat kink

Just got into this game and the girls are too beautiful!

[poetsblvd]

BABY WHO? ꪆৎ CS55

“Please Carlos, not Juana!”

You grumble exhausted, two whole hours of bickering about baby names and you’ve gotten no where.

Not even a single clue as to where you could meet at a middle point, with your husband seemingly dead set on giving your unborn daughter a name you’re sure no one’s heard of in years and you ready to take it through a slightly more modern route, you’re seemingly stuck in the middle of nowhere.

So far you’ve heard a variety of names you’re sure won’t suit your princess, or even be to her taste, if she’s anything like you that is.

Alondra, Benita, Biatriz, Martina, Alejandra and nothing!

Nothing feels right and you’re sure you’re at your wits end with discussing baby names.

A whine tumbles out of you, the fear of possibly choosing a bad name for your unborn daughter that could lead to her resenting you forever and ever practically chokes you, causing you push your head into a pillow, shoving the plate full of your current pregnancy obsession of coconut ferrero rochers into Carlos’ chest.

“Mamita no! Estaba bromeando, lo juro!” ( i was joking, i swear! ) Your husband muffles a laugh, placing the plate of treats onto the bedside table next to him, he buries his head near yours.

“She’ll have a beautiful name like her mother, prometo.” ( i promise )

He pushes your hair back from your forehead, the cool of his gold wedding ring pressing itself into you, letting you nuzzle your face into his hand.

You stare at him softly, one hand joining his on the swell of your growing belly. “You promise we won’t name her that? Or…or Benita?”

A deep laugh bursts through him, chest shaking in mirth he pulls you closer to him covering your face in kisses filled with so much love you’re sure you’ll die if ever deprived of them.

“No amorcito, no Benita or Juana.”

You hum frowning slightly, “You’re not upset are you? That I don’t like the names very much, I just want to like them together. And I just don’t see her having such a name to be very honest, I’m sorry if I’m pressuring you.”

You say it so softly it makes his heart clench, he’s aware of the fact that you’re more sensitive than usual with your pregnancy hormones especially with you being in your second trimester, and it upsets him that you’re worried and genuinely fearful about his feelings as though he’s the one growing a whole baby.

“I promise I was joking Amor, swear it. I’m not upset at you at all, never ever ever! And we will like and choose a name together okay? You aren’t pressuring me at all.” He stares at you warmly as though hoping to convey his deep love and reassurance for you, grinning brightly when you nod and relax.

“Okay? Good! Now would you like a glass of water? It’s been a while now and se supone que debes estar bien hidratada, for both you and the princess, hmm? ” ( you’re supposed to be well hydrated. )

Stretching his arm slightly to the table he picks up the crystal glass filled with iced water and a thinly cut slice of lemon to help pit your ever growing nausea.

“Beberse todo.” He mumbles bringing the glass to your lips and tipping it upwards to let you drink, parting it from your mouth only when you hum. ( drink up )

He presses his lips to yours in a noisy peck. “Good job amorcito.”

“Now, about baby names huh?” Smiling at your enthusiastic face, he places the half full glass back down and hums as though deep in thought, tapping his fingers lightly in your belly.

“I’ve always liked Amara, or! Even Estrella? But more so Amara, because you’re mi amor and she’d be mi Amara!”

A breathy laugh bubbles out of you, the joy pillowing through as you filter the lovely name Amara.

You test it on your lips again, “Amara, Amara. Amara Sainz.” It sounds perfect.

It feels perfect, and from the look on the Spaniards face you know he thinks so too.

“Okay.” You giggle, pulling him in closer and letting him breathe you in, trying to entrap you fully in his senses.

“We found her name!”

“We did, amor we did.”

“Thank you, I love you, I love you.” You hold him closer.

“No. thank you, te amo mucho.” He kisses you hard and lovingly, pushing all of his gratitude and deep adoration for you in the kiss, before suddenly pulling away with a dramatic gasp.

“Shit! Lando’s gonna be disappointed.”

Your brows furrow confused and a little dazed from the kiss. “What why?”

“I may or may not have let him think I’d name mi niñita, Landina.”

“Carlos!”

“What? Charles thinks we’re naming her Charlene!”

“…And don’t even get me started on what Fernando thinks we should name her.”

“Dear god Carlos!”

“Fernanada. It’s Fernanda.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , hii thank you sm for requesting !! i absolutely loved writing this it’s such a perfect idea !! i did change it a teeny tiny bit with reader being a bit more emotional and carlos being a bit of a reassuring boyfriend because we love <3 anyways i hope you liked this !! thank you once again for requesting 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[sillylittleflower]

People I Want to Get to Know Better

Thank you so much for the tag Martina💜 @themarsbar

Last song: Kiss me by Dermot Kennedy

Favorite color: choices...decisions.... i love pastels but idk i just love them aaaall i guess lol or at least i can't choose

Last film/show: Skam i think?

Sweet/savory/spicy: again decisions... choices... maybe savory?

Relationship status: single like a pringle est 2002

Current obsession: young royals lol

Last thing I googled: la mesa lyrics

Last book: the last "new" book i read and finished was "On connection" by Kae Tempest and then i tried reading "To the lighthouse" by Virginia Woolf but i haven't picked it up in months

Looking forward to: young royals s3 even though i don't know if looking forward is the right word because i also don't want it to come lols

no pressure tags 💜@darktwistedgenderplural @glimmeringdreams @margotdanslebois @wilmon-ized @wilmonsfolklore @purplewilmon @the-words-we-sung @grapehyasynth @k-pepp @mostlypisces-blog @belly-aches @chinitade

also i tend to forget people in stuff like this, so please if you see this and wanna do it, absolutely take this as your call :)

[melanieph321]

Pedri x Black Reader - Our Secret Part 3/10

*Pedri's POV

⚠️Warning ⚠️

*mentioning of needles

The story of Marcella and Pedri. As students of the most prestigious high schools in the country, the two are very focused on developimg their indvidual talents. Marcella has music whilst Pedri has football. However, worlds collide when Pedri's secret is revealed, he has diabetes.

Enjoy!

A  day in the life of Pedri. He woke up to the sunlight invading his bedroom. He yawned and turned over, reaching for his phone to confirm that "Jupp" he had indeed slept through his alarm.

After taking a few minutes to say goodbye to his bed, Pedri stood and made his way towards the bathroom. He brushed his teeth in front of the mirror in the same way he always did, from the bottom left to the bottom right. Followed by the top right, to the top left. This routine has never changed in his eighteen years of life. One thing had changed however, and Pedri hated this part of his morning routine. He back up in front of the bathroom mirror, viewing his full body. Alot of people like what they saw, outlined abs, tanned skin and a hairless chest. Pedri however, hated it, because only he knew that his body was broken.

He sighed clipping the lid if his insulin pen. The nurses in the hospital showed him how to do it correctly, but it never managed to feel right. He pinched the skin on his belly and pierced the needle through it. It hurt and would never seize to hurt. The doctors recommend that he brought at least three or four needles with him to school, Pedri however, only brought one.

Good morning cariño, did you sleep well?"

"Yes Mami."

She put a plate of scrambled eggs on the table, pulling out a chair for him to take a seat. Since his diganos of type 1 diabetes last year, his mother made it clear that eating breakfast was not negotiable. She kissed him on the cheek once he sat down. "Don't forget to help your father at the restaurant after school. He's gonna need all hands on deck to prepare for Martina's quinceanera this weekend."

"Isn't Martina a little too old to be having a quinceanera?"

She was about Pablo's age and Pedri only knew that because his friend had a huge crush on her and wouldn't stop talking about her during training.

"Yes, but Martina and her family moved from Mexico when she was fifteen and did not have time to throw her one then, so your father and I are helping them throw one now."

"Why can't Fernando help? I have training this afternoon."

His mother left the sink and returned to him, kissing the top of Pedri's head. I know you do cariño. But you know how your father is, he wants you and your brother to get along again."

"Making us decorate the whole restaurant in pink won't bring us closer together, trust me."

To Pedri his older brother was dead to him. He died when he got put in jail for drinking and driving, and stayed dead upon his release three months ago. No. Pedri only had one brother and that was Pablo Gavi.

"Pedrito!"

The little bastard had yet gotten his driver's license so every morning Pedri took the liberty to pick him up and drive him to school.

"It's a beautiful day, no?" Pablo walked down his driveway, hair still dripping from his shower as he got into the passenger seat.

"You're in a surprisingly good mood, why?"

"Love, Pedrito. I'm in love."

"Of course you are."

"Guess who invited me to a party this weekend."

"Martina?"

Pablo frowned. "How did you know?"

"Her family is throwing her quinceanera at the restaurant. I'm suppose to go down there this afternoon and help decorate."

"Can I come?"

"She won't be there Pablo."

"She might." He said, draping the seat belt over himself. "And what have I told you about calling me by my first name. I'm known as Gavi now."

It was an honor for any player to make it into the Estudios Filántropos football squad. Being formally adressed by once last name came along with that honor, that's how people in the streets knew that you could play.

"How about you stop calling me Pedrito, then we can talk."

Pablo chuckled. "Don't make me get rid of Pedrito. It sounds so cute."

"Cute, eh?"

"Yes. Isn't that what Rosie shouts when you make her..."

Pedri's hand left the steering, smacking his friend upside the head.

"Puta!" Pablo rubbed a hand where it hurt the most.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"It was a joke. A joke man."

"Yeah, but we don't joke about stuff like that."

Locker room talk. Pedri had worked hard to get rid of the misogyny within his football squad. As the captain he worked to install the players to focus only on what was important during training. What they did and how they behaved outside of the pitch he couldn't careless. Although he cared how Pablo spoke about women outside of training. To him Pablo was his successor and needed the right values handed to him as soon as possible, even if it meant handing out a slap or two now and then.

"Why are we just standing here." His friend complained. "We'll be late for school, drive!"

Pablo was right, however Pedri's car remained parked alongside the sidewalk. His attention was drawn to the house next door to Pablo's. The house where she lived.

"What is it, what are you waiting for?"

Just as his friend asked the question she emerged out of her house, grabbing the bike parked in her driveway.

"You've got to be kidding me." Pablo sighed. "Not this again."

Pedri rolled down the window. "Hey Marcella!"

Passing his car she looked to him with furrowed brows. "What do you want?"

"You need a ride?"

"No." She snorted and waited until she got on the road to mount her bike, disapearing with it down the street.

"Everyday." His friend shook his head. "Everyday since, what, Tuesday? Everyday day since Tuesday you've been waiting for Marcella to come out of her house, asking her if she wants to ride with us to school. Why? Is it because I hit her with the ball? Is that it, do you feel bad for her? Because I told you that she was crazy, didn't I?"

Pedri smirked as he reached for the button to push the car to a start. The two of them left Pablo's driveway on their way to school.

"Like what's your deal, you're into crazy chicas now?"

Pedri found it funny, letting Pablo's words slide without a slap.

"I mean she not ugly." He said. "But did I tell you about the time she glued my hand to a wall."

There were many stories like that, of Pablo and Marcella. Apperently the two had been neighbors all their lives, thier parents even throwing cookouts together in the summer. Pedri had asked alot about Marcella lately. If Pablo could tell him about what she was like. Her personality and such. "Crazy." Was his friends answer.

"If you're dumping Rosie for Marcella can I have a shot with her incase Martina rejects me this weekend?"

Pedri smiled, "What makes you think you have a shot with a girl like Rosie?"

"She's into footballers, no? I'm ten times better player than you are."

"You wish."

"Watch me play a full ninety minutes on Friday. At least coach won't sub me off after halftime like he does you. Shouldn't that be illegal, subbing off the team captain? They should make Rodriguez captain, he's a goalkeeper, he never gets subbed off."

Pedri let Pablo go on with his rambling, not knowing that his words had struck him right where it hurts. Yes, Pedri's diabetes was discovered after one of his coaches suggested he got checked out for his worsened stamina. It had all come up on his first visit,  the reasons for suddenly feeling drowsy and unable to perform during training. The doctor told him that his body had stopped producing a hormone called insulin, causing his glucose levels to drop, resulting in his severe health problems. The day Pedri found out that his body was broken was the day he started fearing for his dreams of becoming a football player.

"Hola clase, today's lessons is...."

School went by in a flash. Pedri didn't share any lessons with Pablo since the two weren't in the same grade. However, he did share most of his lessons with Rosie. Apart from the occasional hook up, she was also a good friend.

"Guess what?" She said, stopping him in the hallway to peck his lips with her own.

"What?" He smiled, as she was quick to wipe away the excess lipstick that had rubbed off on him.

"Angie and I made a bet."

"A bet? Sounds fun."

"It is. I bet that I will make out with whichever player scores the winning goal on Friday."

Pedri raised a brow.

She nipped a few hairstrands off his t-shirt. "Make sure it's you."

With that she strutted down the hallway, looking back to make sure that Pedri was checking her out.

He was.

"Man, did you hear?"

There was commotion as Pedri joined his teammates. Most of them sat gathered around one table during lunch hour.

"What?" He asked Pablo, who looked to want to fill him in on what was going on.

"Coach is gonna make us run windsprints for today's warm up. WARM UP."

"Windsprints." Pedri frowned. "In April?"

"Yeah, and we have a game on Friday,  I can't be sore for that."

"Strange, must be something up."

"It doesn't matter. The team wants you to talk to him, tell him to cancel the warm up, or at least change it."

"Why me?"

"You're the captain, aren't you?

And it came with his perks. All eyes were on him, his teammates nodding their heads, agreeing with Pablo.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do?"

He left lunch early, although his mother would curse him out for that. However it was best to get his rest now incase coach wouldn't change his mind about the windsprints this afternoon. He made it to the far ends of the building, where the school had its auditorium. There was a classroom near by, the door unlocked. Pedri plotted down on the old sofa behind a dusty keyboard. There he could hear señor Garcia tinkering away on his piano, and Marcella, warming up her throat as she was getting ready to sing. There were others singing along with her,  but Pedri preferred to focus on Marcella's voice. It brought him comfort as he removed the lid off his insulin pen with his teeth, pinching the skin of his belly. Pedri squinted his eyes as the needle went into him, followed by the pain of inserting the insulin. He fell back against the warn out pillows, relaxing his muscles after tensing up during his shot. He drifted off to sleep to the sound of her voice, Marcella, with a voice like no other.

[ckret2]

loving your posts, especially your music posts! one of my partners is getting me into Gravity Falls so I’m excited to see your fic when you’re done with it (godspeed 🙏🏻)

I’ve been putting playlists for characters togeyher and always felt like something was missing, ao your post about how to avoid making it sound like your taste was really helpful.

All that said, I’ve been doing research, and I came across a…category? Subgenre? idk it seems to cross a lot of genres - whatever, called “murder ballads”. Are there any characters you’ve made playlists for that murder ballads would fall on? (There’s a wiki page with a list of 132 of ‘em, the ones I’m familiar with are the country murder ballads like Goodbye Earl, Independence Day [by Martina McBride], and Two Black Cadillacs, but there’s songs with different parent genres on there like metal, folk, pop, rock, and medieval.)

"Murder ballad" is like, "love song". It describes the subject matter but not the style of the song itself. They tend to gravitate toward certain genres but it's not a genre-specific label.

Outside Gravity Falls, i've put murder ballads on Alastor—1920s jazz murder ballads, and EARLY early folk murder ballads (he had to listen to SOMETHING as a kid before he was old enough to go watch jazz bands, and dude's morbid).

Inside Gravity Falls, I see old Appalachian murder ballads for Fiddleford (but he's a character i haven't sufficiently fleshed out a playlist for yet, just haven't made the time; Appalachian murder ballads are a genre I've specifically earmarked to dig into for him tho). My Fidds playlist currently has a bluegrass cover of "In The Pines" (better known as "Where Did You Sleep Last Night"—you might know the Nirvana or Lead Belly version), although I wanna find a different cover of that song because the specific one I added to the playlist took out the actual murder lyrics lmfao.

For a while I had a few 1950s murder ballads on Stan's playlist—Mack The Knife, Stagger Lee, Folsom Prison Blues—but I've taken most of them off because uh... i got tired of listening to them sdflkfh. I need to find fresh ones to put on that I'm not yet tired of. In general, for Stan I try to steer toward 1950s songs—preferably rock n roll—about crime, prisons, murder.

If you have spotify, I recommend the podcast Murder Ballads (unfortunately a spotify exclusive, so that's the only way to listen to it). It's only six episodes but it goes over the history of murder ballads AND gives several covers of each featured song across genres/years

[skibasyndrome]

here have some omar belly as a treat for doing the icky tasks

AHHHHH, thank you so much, Martina!!!! What a lovely, lovely treat 😍😍😍😍😍

[gorgin-gals-muses]

Miss Martina, the shipment of cream filled pastries have arrived that you ordered....shall I bring them in?

"It is on the schedule, yes. 300 this time, by my count. Load it onto the conveyor belt." Martina smirked as she watched a mousey, non-armored attendant walk over to a podium next to her throne. A button was clicked.

Martina slowly leaned back into herself, massaging the top portion of her empty stomach, as a hatch split open from the ceiling. A conveyor belt stretched out to meet her flabby obese face. Her belly roared hungrily, the anticipation alone making her salivate. The belt started to whirr open, and a cream puff was slowly marched towards her awaiting lips, more in close procession. The first started to fall, Martina's jaws opening wide to catch it, and..."

"Gglhk.... Mmmnnn, hgllk... ulp~..." The cream puffs started sliding down into Martina's slick throat, so effortless she didn't even need to close her mouth. Her lair started to sound with the rhythm of hearty, greedy gulps, each dessert tumbling into her gluttonous abyss. Martina's stomach gurgled contently, the massive woman flexing her legs spread out in their immense, lardy rolls. She hummed with blissful greed, as her jaw snapped open to catch even more.

Martina's torso slowly bobbed up and down in the sea of her own flab, her enormity quaking as she got into the rhythm. Even her massive throne, outfitted to withstand the assault, started to creak and groan as she gyrated her enormity from side to side, one breathless swallow after another.

With one huge slap and a few glances to her subordinates, a duo of Peacekeepers walked up to their blobby goddess of a director. Four hands dug deep into her flowing waterfall of a belly. Martina purred again as they started to work on it, pushing and pulling the gigantic tub of lard like they were working a wad of dough as big as both of them combined. She kicked her fat-swallowed feet again.

Martina briefly came out of her stupor, making mental note of her progress. About 200 left, now. Back to sink into the hedonistic bliss, the endless feast that she worked, lied, killed, and ate so hard to obtain.

[nobodysdaydreams]

My Last Minute and Probably Wrong Guesses for @tmbswhodunit (and my undoubtedly flawed logic to go along with it)

Drumroll please...

Petrichor - @mashpotatoequeen

The title is lowercase and most of her recent titles are also lowercase

Many of her fics have titles like this (fancy words like eucatastrophe or bellis perennis)

This fic is very beautiful, amazing word choice, gorgeous visuals (which is what I really love about her writing 💖). I also enjoyed Constance and Sticky's sibling dynamic very much!

We'll Both Be Completely Home in Midair - @oflightningandstars

The title of this fic on AO3 ends in a period, which Moth has done on occasion

The AO3 version also lists where the title is from, which is a Moth staple

The fic is locked. Moth is one of the only people who consistently locks his fics

Even when you ignore the first three points that make me look overly analytic (sorry), the fic is about aliens, which is very similar to the "Cirque des Etoiles" concept which involves stars and spaces AND the Dr. Who AUs, which at some point involved Moth.

The writing, characterization, and concepts are also absolutely beautiful, so they match Moth's style perfectly!

Steady On - @mvshortcut

Milk always double spaces between their paragraphs and also this feels a lot like Milk's writing (and had me on the edge of my seat the whole time! seriously the part where Martina doesn't take Mr. Benedict's hand...why do you do this to me... /lh /I loved this fic!)

Milk's titles are all capital letters, so this fits that (sadly so do many of these fics, but that at least narrows it down)

Milk consistently tags both the books and shows for their fics. There are only two fics in this that fit that requirement. It was for this specific reason that I only tagged the TV show for my own fic (at least for now. I'll probably edit my tags now that the exchange is over).

The Interview - @acollectionofcuriousreblogs

Summary is a longer sentence, other authors usually use shorter ones.

The way the paragraphs are spaced is very similar to her other fics

The angst is AMAZING and very similar to that one snippet I saw on her tumblr during whumptor with her OC's (which was also very well written, but also hurts??? And what happens to Sticky??? The public (me) needs to know! /lh /great writing).

The Alpaca -@lizardwoman-from-earths-core-2

Has used *** to separate lines in fics before

The fic is unrated, and some of her fics on AO3 are also unrated, which is generally rare.

I really enjoyed this fic. The line "some has Godfathered my daughter" made me laugh. 😂

Art: A Psychic Among Us - @heyitsthatonesmolgay

Has made fan art for me before (which I love😍) however, that was a pencil sketch, so it's hard to compare the styles.

You can make gifs and animations for free with fire alpaca (according to google) which I know Nick uses

The way Nick titled the fan art was to put "art" or "fan art" before the title of the art in all caps, which matches this style.

This art is fantastic, I love the animation, I love the concept, just...all of it. 10/10. Anyone in the fandom who makes art is officially a wizard in my book because I don't know how they do it.

Fairytale- @fandom-queen-13

This one gave me the most trouble out of all of them by far. At first I was 100% sure fandom-queen-13 was the one who made some of the fanart, because I have art drawn by her for my SOS fic (if you haven't see it, it's amazing!) BUT! The art submitted to the exchange didn't match the style. Also, I know Crow does a lot of fairytale AUs, and I know Sophie and I have talked about them too, so that really threw me off. HOWEVER, there were three key things about this fic that tipped me off:

1) The bold alternating text in the fic and use of ~ matches other works of hers on AO3

2) The fact that it says in the description that this fic was inspired by "@sergentsporks". There is no one with that URL on AO3 or tumblr, HOWEVER, there IS someone named "@/sergeantsporks" and I found this post: https://www.tumblr.com/sergeantsporks/695958143301255168?source=share. Only one person in our fandom liked the post. Once I figured that out, it cracked the case wide open (unless of course someone else liked and unliked the post in which case this entire guess post is completely wrong. If that is the case then um...my bad? 🤷🏻‍♀️)

3) The writing is amazing and completely blew me away, not unlike the art style I'm more familiar with. Seriously, this was a FANTASTIC concept and I loved it so much! Werewolf Kate and Milligan my beloveds!

Card Games - @ae-jurumi

This one was difficult. Once I determined that fandom-queen-13 was in fact likely NOT an artist, I was down to Amphibian and surprisingly, realized at the last minute that I forgot to consider Sophie as an artist. I've seen some art from Amphibian in the past, but it can be hard to track down because they have two blogs, and as for Sophie, she writes such great fic that I find myself forgetting "oh yeah, she's also an amazing artist, like really good???" however, I had to go with amphibious entity for this. Why? The art seemed slightly more their style, and most of Sophie's recent fics have titles where all words were capitalized.

Most seem to agree with me, as the tmbswhodunit poll had them winning for this

Has only written one fic that I know of (which was INCREDIBLE everyone read it) but the odds of them doing art for the exchange seemed higher

This art was amazing. It's so beautiful, I can't even tell if you drew it or use software to do it, but either way, it's incredible and proves my earlier point that all fandom artists are wizards.

I Have Spent My Entire Life Clamoring Towards It - @mysteriouseggsbenedict

All words of title are lowercase which Frances sometimes does

Posted to an anon collection as well as WhoDunIt and I know from the discord that Frances was worried about the fic being posted properly

Mary Oliver is a poet, and we know Frances studies library science

A wonderful and sweet fic, and we know that Frances is a wonderful and sweet person. Suspicious. /lh /affectionate

Seriously a very wonderful fic. I love anything where Nicholas Benedict is a good dad and a good mentor.

Cat Fic - @crow-in-springtime

Second word of title is lowercase, which is consistent with how recent fics on AO3 are titled

Author took finals according to the tags, and Crow is in the right age range for this

Has tagged fics "I wrote this instead of sleeping" before

Usually writes fairytale focused content (which I LOVE), however, this fic also seems very much in the wonderful adorable whimsical style of Crow

Crow also tags both the TV show and Book on AO3 (as does this fic)

I love this fic. But the cliffhanger though: what is the cat's name??? 👀

Don't Grow Up Too Fast - @sophieswundergarten

It is to my great shame that this took me the longest to guess and it might not even be correct

But it matches the technicalities of Sophie's writing: the use of long dashes, each word of the title is capitalized.

The biggest give away is that it’s one of the only works Sophie DIDN’T give kudos to, and you can’t leave kudos on your own work.

Also, the writing really does feel like Sophie. I know she loves nicknames, and the "Pen/Penny" thing is a nickname. So. There's a clue right there.

She also loves sibling dynamics, so focusing on Rhonda and Number Two's relationship fits that too.

Sophie already commented on two other fics and she doesn’t seem like the type to comment on her own fic and throw everyone off (would be impressed if she did though)

The writing leaves me with a warm feeling that I get whenever I read fluff by Sophie. So the more I think about it, there more confident I am about this guess. I think I just had to eliminate a few other choices first.

Amazing fic btw. They are such a family 🥰

And...finally...as many were quick to guess both on tumblr and in the discord:

Sirens of the Sea and Sky - @nobodysdaydreams

The Crangst (Crack + Angst) style is my bread and butter (though I usually emphasize the angst more).

It’s the longest fic in the bunch, because in classic Bods fashion, I never know when to quit. The whole paragraph of backstory was completely unnecessary.

Also in classic Bods fashion, the fic has a glaring typo (I wrote that Mermaid Curtain drove into the water instead of dove into the water. I fixed it on AO3 but not before everyone read it on tumblr. Oh well. At least this way we can imagine mermaid Curtain driving his golf cart into the sea).

Genuinely curious to know the exact moment in the fic that made @sophieswundergarten and @myfairkatiecat go "oh gosh dang it Bods" and all but @ me and/or private message me about it (as I suspected they might).

Don't judge me. This is finals did to my brain. They melted my mind. I swear, if this is the first fic of mine you've read, literally any of the other 7 works on my AO3 are so much better than this, I promise.

Really, who else could it be? Who else would do this? The silliness and absurdity haunts me like a plague. I will never be free. Never. I didn't even try to make this funny, this is just what my brain is like 24/7. I've never seen one episode of Sailor Moon and have barely watched any H2O and that was years ago. So why write that into a fic? I don't have the answer. I know not what I do. But I hope that at least some of you enjoyed it, because despite everything, I really enjoyed writing it!

Thank you @mahpotatoequeen for putting this together and thank you to everyone for your wonderful fics! When I have more time, I will be leaving comments on them all because you all are extremely talented deserve them! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 💕💕💕💕

[sassenach77yle]

HE MADE IT TO Amanda’s room a half step before Brianna and scooped the child out of her bed, cradling her against his pounding heart.“Jemmy, Jemmy!” she sobbed. “He’s gone, he’s gone. He’s GONE!!” This last was shrieked as she stiffened in Roger’s arms, digging her feet hard into his belly.“Hey, hey,” he soothed, trying to rearrange her and pet her into calm. “It’s okay, Jemmy’s fine. He’s fine, he’s only gone to visit Bobby overnight. He’ll be home tomorrow.”“He’s GONE!” She squirmed like an eel, not trying to get away but merely possessed by a paroxysm of frantic grief. “He’s not here, he’s not here!”

“Aye, like I said, he’s at Bobby’s house, he—”“Not here,” she said urgently, and thumped the palm of her hand repeatedly on the top of her head. “Not here wif me!”“Here, baby, come here,” Bree said urgently, taking the tear-streaked child from him.“Mama, Mama! Jemmy’s GONE!” She clung to Bree, staring desperately, still thumping her head. “He’s not wif me!”Bree frowned at Mandy, puzzled, a hand running over her, checking for temperature, swollen glands, tender tummy…“Not with you,” she repeated, speaking intently, trying to get Mandy out of her panic. “Tell Mummy what you mean, sweetheart.”“Not here!” In utter desperation, Mandy lowered her head and butted her mother in the chest.“Oof!”The door at the end of the hall opened, and William Buccleigh came out, wearing Roger’s woolen dressing gown.“What in the name of the Blessed Virgin’s all this riot?” he inquired.“He took him, he took him!” Mandy shrieked, and buried her head in Brianna’s shoulder.Despite himself, Roger was feeling infected by Amanda’s fear, irrationally convinced that something terrible had happened.“Do you know where Jem is?” he snapped at Buccleigh.“I do not.” Buccleigh frowned at him. “Is he not in his bed?”

“No, he isn’t!” Brianna snapped. “You saw him leave, for heaven’s sake.” She forced her way between the men. “Quit it right now, both of you! Roger, take Mandy. I’m going to phone Martina Hurragh.” She thrust Amanda, moaning around the thumb in her mouth, into his arms and hurried for the stairs, her hastily acquired nightclothes rustling like leaves.He rocked Amanda, distracted, alarmed, nearly overcome by her sense of panic. She emitted fright and grief like a radio broadcasting tower, and his own breath came short and his hands were wet with sweat where he clutched her Winnie-the-Pooh nightie.“Hush, a chuisle,” he said, pitching his voice as calmly as he could. “Hush, now. We’ll fix it. You tell Daddy what waked you up, and I’ll fix it, promise.”She obediently tried to stifle her sobs, rubbing chubby fists into her eyes.“Jemmy,” she moaned. “I want Jemmy!”“We’ll get him back straightaway,” Roger promised. “Tell me, what made you wake up? Did you have a bad dream?”“Uh-huh.” She clutched him tighter, her face full of fear. “Was big wocks, big wocks. They scweamed at me!”Ice water ran straight through his veins. Jesus, oh, Jesus. Maybe she did remember her trip through the stones.“Aye, I see,” he said, patting her as soothingly as he could, for the ferment in his own breast. He did see. In memory he saw those stones, felt and heard them again. And, turning a little, saw the pallor of William Buccleigh’s face and knew he heard the ring of truth in Mandy’s voice, too.“What happened then, a leannan? Did you go close to the big rocks?”“Not me; Jem! That man took him and the wocks ate him!” At this, she collapsed in tears again, sobbing inconsolably.“That man,” Roger said slowly, and turned a little more, so that William Buccleigh was in her field of view. “Do you mean this man, sweetheart? Uncle Buck?”“No, nonononononono, a other man!” She straightened up, staring into his face with huge, tear-filled eyes, straining to make him understand. “Bobby’s daddy!”He heard Brianna coming upstairs. Fast, but unevenly; it sounded as though she was bumping against the walls of the staircase, losing her balance as she hurried.She stumbled into view at the top of the stair, and Roger felt every hair on his body stand up at the sight of her white, staring face.“He’s gone,” she said, hoarse. “Martina says he’s not with Bobby, she didn’t expect him tonight at all. I made her go outside and look—Rob lives three houses down. She says his truck is gone.”

[Cap 85Son of a witch ~An echo in the bone ]

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 7.29

Beer Birthdays

Max Schwarz (1863)

Garrett Oliver (1962)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Ken Burns; documentary filmmaker (1953)

Geddy Lee; rock bassist, singer (1953)

William Powell; actor (1892)

Dave Stevens; artist, cartoonist, illustrator (1955)

Wil Wheaton; actor, blogger (1972)

Famous Birthdays

Afroman; rapper (1974)

Jean-Hugues Anglade; French actor and director (1955)

Doug Ashdown; Australian singer-songwriter (1942)

Porfirio Barba-Jacob; Colombian poet and author (1883)

Melvin Belli; attorney (1907)

Clara Bow; actor (1905)

Danger Mouse; cartoon character (1977)

Don Carter; bowler (1926)

John Clarke; New Zealand-Australian comedian and actor (1948)

Edgar Cortright; scientist and engineer (1923)

Professor Irwin Corey; comedian, actor (1914)

Sharon Creech; author (1945)

Simon Dach; German poet (1605)

Alex de Tocqueville; French writer, historian, political scientist (1805)

Stephen Dorff; actor (1973)

Neal Doughty; keyboard player (1946)

Leslie Easterbrook; actress (1949)

Richard Egan; actor (1921)

Adele Griffin; author (1970)

Tim Gunn; fashion consultant, television host (1953)

Dag Hammarskjold; Swedish diplomat (1905)

Betty Harris; chemist (1940)

Jenny Holzer; painter, author, and dancer (1950)

Robert Horton; actor (1924)

Isabel; Brazilian princess (1846)

Peter Jennings; television journalist (1938)

Eyvind Johnson; Swedish novelist (1900)

Joe Johnson; English snooker player (1952)

Diane Keen; English actress (1946)

Eric Alfred Knudsen; author (1872)

Harold W. Kuhn; mathematician (1925)

Stanley Kunitz; poet (1905)

Don Marquis; cartoonist, writer (1878)

Jim Marshall; guitar amplifier maker (1923)

Martina McBride; country singer (1966)

Daniel McFadden; economist (1937)

Frank McGuinness; Irish poet and playwright (1953)

Goenawan Mohamad; Indonesian poet and playwright (1941)

Harry Mulisch; Dutch author, poet (1927)

Benito Mussolini; Italian journalist and politician (1883)

Gale Page; actress (1910)

Alexandra Paul; actor (1963)

Dean Pitchford; actor and director (1951)

Isidor Isaac Rabi; physicist (1898)

Don Redman; composer (1900)

Sigmund Romberg; Hungarian-American composer (1887)

Mahasi Sayadaw; Burmese monk and philosopher (1904)

Patti Scialfa; musician (1954)

Mary Lee Settle; novelist (1918)

Tony Sirico; actor (1942)

Randy Sparks; folk singer-songwriter (1933)

John Sykes; English singer-songwriter and guitarist (1959)

Booth Tarkington; writer (1869)

David Taylor; English snooker player (1943)

Paul Taylor; dancer (1930)

Mikis Theodorakis; Greek composer (1925)

Didier Van Cauwelaert; French author (1960)

David Warner; English actor (1941)

Woody Weatherman; guitarist (1965)

Vladimir K. Zworykin, Russian-American engineer and inventor (1888)

[filorunsultra]

Giulio

Ho conosciuto Giulio Repetto, dovrei dire, a URMA. Ma come spesso accade, a URMA ci si vede e basta, e solo dopo, altrove, ci si presenta; di solito con un 'ehi, ma tu non eri a URMA?'. Quell'altrove fu Trans D'Havet 2019. Salimmo sul pullman che porta alla partenza e condividemmo i primi chilometri fino al Brazome. Da quella notte ho condiviso momenti molto intensi con Giulio, belli e brutti, e anche se non è una di quelle persone che vedi una volta a settimana, e nemmeno una volta al mese a dire il vero, penso di poter dire che sia un amico. Ma veniamo all'intervista: io non faccio grandi domande e solo raramente mi arrivano grandi risposte. Questa volta sì, forse perché non c'era bisogno di dire le parole giuste per farsi capire, bastava lanciare un sassolino. Mi sono divertito a scrivere le domande e mi sono divertito a leggere le risposte, e spero vi divertiate voi a leggerle. Buona lettura.

Ciao Giulio, è un po’ che non ci vediamo. Come state tu, la Cate e Cjiorven?

Un po' stanchi per via del lavoro ma bene dai, Cjiorven comincia ad avere i suoi anni ma sta bene anche lei.

Sai che non so quando e come hai iniziato a correre?

Ho iniziato decisamente tardi rispetto alla media, avevo già 47 anni, nel 2016. È iniziato tutto per caso, a Padova fanno delle uscite serali di gruppo e una sera degli amici che già correvano mi hanno invitato ad andarci, erano 8 km di argine, ho detto “ma sì proviamo”. Sono arrivato distrutto e con i polmoni in fiamme ma cominciavo ad incuriosirmi. Qualche settimana dopo sempre gli stessi amici mi dicono che c’è una corsa sui colli, mi pare fossero 12 km, ci vado e lì ho la folgorazione, piove a dirotto e mi diverto come un matto mentre tutti imprecano nel fango.

Mi fa ridere che i miei abbiano molti amici in comune con te e la Cate, perché sono amicizie che non c’entrano nulla con la corsa. Ti saluta Martina (Peretti, Vicenza, giro Xgocce nel mareX), dice ‘chi sa se si ricorda di me’.

Sì fa un po’ ridere ma non è nemmeno troppo strano se consideri che i tuoi dovrebbero avere più o meno la mia età, forse fa più ridere il fatto che io abbia più cose in comune con te che con loro. Martina me la ricordo benissimo, spero se la passi bene, salutamela se la vedi.

Giulio si lamenta dei suoi acciacchi, come al solito, dopo aver chiuso URMA 2022, con una Giulia Chiorri realmente infortunata.

Cosa vuol dire punk?

Se mi avessi chiesto qualcosa tipo ‘perché il mondo esiste?’ forse avrei avuto meno difficoltà a risponderti. Inizialmente il termine punk era riferito ad un determinato genere musicale o un modo di vestire, poi è diventato una sorta di aggettivo per definire un certo tipo di attitudine. Per me essere punk significa fondamentalmente essere degli idealisti, anteporre le proprie idee di fronte a tutto, fregarsene se non sono condivise dalla massa o se a volte possono addirittura andar contro al proprio interesse personale. Ti faccio qualche esempio. Fino al 2004 in Italia esisteva il servizio militare obbligatorio, in alternativa per chi era contrario c’era l’opzione del servizio civile che però quando venne istituito durava due anni, al posto di uno di leva. Due anni non sono pochi quando hai vent’anni; eppure i primi obiettori di coscienza che erano contrari al servizio militare si facevano 24 mesi al posto dei 12 dei loro coetanei che sceglievano di fare servizio di leva. Alla fine, un punk è uno che fa le sue cose perché è convinto che vadano fatte in un certo modo senza aspettarsi niente in cambio, è quello che se ne sta in disparte ma magari un giorno poi si fa arrestare solo per affermare le sue idee.

Ti dà fastidio che oggi tutti si definiscano punk, a partire dalle aziende?

In realtà no, mi è abbastanza indifferente. Il mercato fagocita tutto, gusti musicali, abitudini alimentari tutto diventa merce in questo sistema. Uno può definirsi come meglio crede, poi sono le sue azioni che lo determinano per quello che è.

Cos’è un ultrarunner?

Una persona che ha un buon rapporto con se stessa.

Qual è il tuo stile di corsa?

Già ti vedo che ridi mentre scrivi questa domanda! Non ho uno stile, corro e basta. Mi piace la corsa semplice senza attrezzatura, non mi piace pianificare i percorsi, non ho mai avuto un orologio né tantomeno un GPS, mi piace uscire soprattutto d'estate borraccia in mano, pantaloncini e correre finché non viene buio.

In una vecchia intervista su URMA dicevi che il mondo della corsa è corrotto, andrebbe raso al suolo e rifatto da capo. Cosa c’è di sbagliato nel nostro sport?

Non era esattamente così, Paco mi chiedeva cosa avrei detto io da giovane nei confronti della corsa e io immaginavo che avrei detto qualcosa del genere visto che odiavo le istituzioni e le avrei volute radere tutte al suolo. In realtà oggi non vedo niente di così sbagliato nel mondo della corsa, è tuttavia un mondo che conosco poco e in cui mi identifico ancora meno ma non ho niente di personale contro di questo.

Salendo verso la Litegosa durante il nostro primo tentativo di correre Translagorai in meno di 24 ore, cinque giorni prima di laurearmi, ottobre 2020.

Pensi che quello che è accaduto negli ultimi cinque o dieci anni in Italia, questa scena alternativa, sia riuscita a cambiare qualcosa?

A livello generale non penso abbia cambiato molto, siamo sempre un numero sparuto di corridori ‘alternativi’, però sicuramente ha cambiato la visione della corsa di quelle persone che sono state attratte in qualche modo dal mondo di URMA o dalle altre piccole realtà locali. Ci sono tanti che si iscrivono a tutte le corse e poi si lamentano del percorso balisato male, del pacco gara, della giuria. Però poi continuano ad andarci. Dopo URMA ci sono state delle persone che invece si sono poste un po’ di domande su quello che stavano facendo e sostenendo, che hanno voluto diventare più partecipi e meno spettatori-consumatori, è un piccolo passo però a URMA va decisamente il merito di aver innescato questa scintilla.

Una sera di fine ottobre di un paio di anni fa, davanti a un fuoco acceso ricordo che fissando le fiamme mi hai detto ‘è tutto finito’. Pensi che sia così? È finita un’era?

In realtà mi ci hai fatto pensare tu qualche giorno fa, prima non me ne ero reso conto completamente ma gli anni che vanno tra il 2017 e il 2021 sono stati effettivamente un ciclo che secondo me si è concluso a URMA l’anno scorso. Credo che con quel ‘è tutto finito’ volessi intendere che tutto quello che sarebbe venuto dopo non sarebbe stato né meglio né peggio, ma sicuramente diverso, forse troppo diverso per chi aveva vissuto la prima fase. Sono cose difficili da spiegare anche perché mentre le si vive si è talmente coinvolti da non rendersi esattamente conto dell’importanza di quanto sta accadendo. Forse essendo un po’ più vecchio degli altri ho avuto la fortuna di essere un po’ più conscio del valore di tutto ciò, dico fortuna perché mi ha portato ad un coinvolgimento totale, un po’ simile a come quando da ragazzino mi imbattei nel punk. Là fuori c’era un branco di visionari che volevano solo correre liberi nei boschi e io volevo farne parte, cosa poteva esserci di più esaltante?

Ti faccio una domanda intima, forse non è il luogo giusto, se vuoi la tagliamo. Ma mi interessa. Come hai vissuto URMA l’anno scorso, e come pensavi che l’avresti vissuta prima di andarci?

Partiamo dalla fine, pensavo che l’avrei vissuta molto male, anzi malissimo, e vista la mia tendenza alla malinconia non è stato nemmeno semplice decidere di parteciparvi. In realtà poi ne sono stato felice e credo che tutto sia andato come doveva andare, anzi, anche meglio. C’era tanta gente che non c’entrava niente? Può essere, ma io ho ritrovato diverse persone con cui mi sono sento affine e ho passato due giorni con loro tra mille chiacchiere, cucinando, correndo, ridendo, non potevo chiedere di più.

E come pensi che la vivrai quest’anno?

Emotivamente non ne ho idea, per il resto non è che sia propriamente famoso per l’organizzazione. Diciamo che se mi dai un weekend libero e il serbatoio del van pieno io sono già mezzo soddisfatto in partenza.

Cosa ti manca?

Preferisco non rispondere.

Passo Zebrù, luglio 2020.

Abbiamo provato Translagorai insieme la prima volta. Giornata assurda. Cosa ti ricordi?

Per me è stata una bellissima cosa, me la sono goduta dall’inizio alla fine, compreso quel sottile brivido di quando sai che stai facendo una mezza cazzata ma ne sei cosciente e la cosa ti diverte. Il fatto che avessi deciso di fare questa corsa senza sapere che dietro ci stava Paco è stata forse la cosa più assurda. Per il resto ho un ricordo nitido e bellissimo di una giornata sospesa senza tempo, ti sarò sempre grato per averla condivisa, da solo sarei ancora lì a vagare in qualche canalone.

Grazie Giulio

"Forse la coppia più assurda che abbiamo visto finora. In bocca al lupo Giulio Repetto e Filippo Caon!"

[kcdoessl]

A day...

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[drawinglinestoconstellations]

Your carrd/comm info is coming up as unavailable

You may have clicked on my old carrd, I made a new one entirely with all my accounts and updated commissions infos and listing! If you were looking that up, you can find everything over here now: