#mmmmhm absolutely lovely

[huginsmemory]

First meetings: Wolfwood and Vash

ID: Wolfwood in his introduction chapter pinching a protesting Vash's chin with interest and exclaiming that people are stupid for not immediately recognizing Vash.

One thing I noticed while rereading the manga, is the nature of Wolfwood and Vash's first meeting; that is, Wolfwood isn't targeting Vash as his next mark, nor does he likely know that Vash is his next mark. As a result, I thought it would be interesting to look at how that shapes their relationship with each other in the beginning, especially in comparison to the differences in the anime adaptations. Just a fun lil tidbit to sink your teeth into.

Proof of Unknowing

For the case that Wolfwood wasn't yet targeting Vash, my first point is that it makes sense logistically; if Wolfwood was targeting Vash to kill him as Legato had originally told them to in the manga, it would be assumed that he would have tried to kill Vash. However, instead he doesn't try to at all, although one might chalk that up to Vash saving his life by spotting him while on the bus or some other plot gimmick for Wolfwood to not immediately try to kill Vash.

Secondly, and more obviously, Wolfwood hasn't met Legato yet. This is seen clearly when Legato asks Wolfwood if he's Chapel, who Wolfwood is (later shown to be) impersonating, which means that Legato has never met Wolfwood. As well, Wolfwood is only shown to know the location of his next job- when he mutters about the chapel on the top of the rock- and doesn't seem to know nothing else, making it highly likely he doesn't even know any other details. In fact, Vash actually warns Wolfwood to not get involved with Legato, giving Wolfwood his description, to which Wolfwood when recieving the info doesn't seem to know the man; and upon arriving, and meeting Legato, Wolfwood actually parrots the description from Vash's warning in wariness, recognizing him through Vash's warning.

ID: Collection of three manga pages.

First page: Legato comments, "'Chapel' seems to be missing... Well, no matter. Our target... Has yet to arrive." His words fade into Wolfwood exclaiming, "Huh?! A skull attached to his left arm?" Vash says, "Yep, yep! That's right. And a raised, needle-like torture device on his right shoulder." After a pause, Vash says, "You don't know him? Well, if you see him, let me know."

Second page: Vash tensely remembers a blood spatter and thinks, "Like a shadow, he came. And like a shadow, he killed and slipped away. If he... If he can move in and out of a crowd like that, people can be killed easily..." Wolfwood and Meryl look curious, and Wolfwood asks, "Well? If I see that guy, what should I do? You got a message for him?" Vash makes an exclamatory sound and shouts, "No! No! Never-mind!! Do not get involved. He's a very, very dangerous man. I swear!" Wolfwood laughs, "But I heard you were the most dangerous man in the world!" Vash sighs.

Third page: we see Legato and Wolfwood standing across from each other at their first interaction. Legato says, "That cross... I've been waiting for you. You're 'Chapel,' correct?" Wolfwood's expression is wary, and he says, "The skull... The torture device... I know you..."

Since Legato hasn't met him yet, this also means Legato's precious half-coins which he gives to each of the gung-ho guns hasn't been given yet to Wolfwood, which Legato has been previously shown to inform the gung-ho guns who their target is when he gives it to them (as with the first gung-ho gun). This again makes it unlikely that Wolfwood even knows his mark is Vash.

ID: A panel of Legato touching a broken coin in front of Monev the Gale, the first gung-ho gun and saying intensely, "Do whatever it takes. For twenty years of your master's benevolence, it's time to repay him."

Lending further support, when Legato mentions that they specifically may need to deal with--ie, kill--Vash, this is the moment when we are privy to Wolfwood thought processes, where he desperately rages against his life as a assassin and how he wants to escape this life that causes him to kill. This is especially understandable under the context of Wolfwood just being told that he is supposed to kill a man that he had just somewhat befriended, a man who had just saved his life and payed for his lunch, who clearly has a good heart.

ID: Two subsequent manga pages. Legato (off page) says "We're entering unknown territory here. You must be ready to handle any situation. Especially... Vash the Stampede. By no means may you fail!!" Wolfwood's frowning face is shown as Conrad comments that Vash is coming and that he understands why Knives chose that location. There's a close-up of Wolfwood's narrow-eyed expression before a cut to his shoes stomping up a mountain. He angrily exclaims, "Shit! What the hell was with all th' training?! Once again I'm staining my own hands with blood. God..." He thinks, "Once it's gone full-circle... where will it end?"

Basically, manga Wolfwood and Vash's beginning of their relationship starts with them forming a camaraderie before Wolfwood learns that he needs to kill/betray Vash. This makes it in a way more bittersweet, because their original interaction never had that tension of knowledge that Wolfwood is there since the beginning to betray Vash, and instead, they are simply existing together and form a what might tentatively be called a friendship--at least something where the both of them seem to have made a positive impact on the other-- outside of Wolfwoods mission. As a result, the question of how much of the camaraderie in the beginning of their relationship is Wolfwood having to get close to his mark is removed; you realize the camaraderie they share is honest and organic. In a way it's more tragic, because Vash even warns Wolfwood to remain away from Legato, but Wolfwood is already inevitably heading towards meeting the man, and learns to his horror that his next target is actually Vash. For Vash it also it's bitter because when Wolfwood finds Vash, Wolfwood mentions Knives for his reason of finding Vash; showing that even against Vash's warning, Wolfwood has clearly been entangled in some manner in the fight between Vash and Knives.

Anime adaptions

All this gets cut from Stampede, as Wolfwood is pretty explicitly following Vash to babysit him since the beginning. As Stampede has considerably condensed the story this makes sense since it would take time they don't have to add it in; but I think that cuts out an interesting extra dimension to Wolfwood and Vash's relationship, but so many things have been cut that I'm not surprised, and it's so changed that this being cut is not a big deal to me (compared to other things they cut which were more important).

From what I remember of the 98' anime, it's left a bit open to whether or not Wolfwood already knows from the beginning. However, as Wolfwood appears before Legato appears, it may mean that Wolfwood doesn't know during their first few meetings, like in the manga, but we aren't given a specific scene that shows Wolfwood being told to follow Vash, so we don't know where in the timeline he knows (we are only given the scene where he's told to kill Vash, later in the series). As well, Vash warning Wolfwood about Legato was removed in '98, which then lacks that bittersweetness of the realization that Wolfwood has become entangled in Vash and Knives fight. However, I haven't finished rewatching '98, so I don't have a more confident answer for whether or not Wolfwood knows, so take this part of the analysis with a grain of salt.

Conclusion

TLDR: In comparison to Wolfwood seeking out Vash to betray/observe him since the beginning, Wolfwood not knowing, (as shown by Legato not knowing who Wolfwood is when they meet) makes their whole first interaction in the manga organic, and adds a whole extra dimension of tragedy to their relationship, especially with the way Vash tries to warn Wolfwood away from Legato, which ultimately fails. As a result, the darker parts of both of their lives, which they don't acknowledge in their first meeting, end up intertwined, against their will. This actually serves as part of a huge thematic resolution of monstrousness and rejection but that's not the point here, that's another thing for another day.

Btw! If u wanna read more rambles from me, here's a masterpost of em :)

Edit (Apr. 2): Added photo ID, written by @princess-of-purple-prose

[the-golden-comet]

✨⛵️Story/WIP Tour Tag ⛵️✨

Oh, what a fun concept! Thank you for tagging me, @theink-stainedfolk !!

I’m not sure I can convince you about the lovely landmarks in Peter Hart , but— there’s a rope around me. Oh. We don’t have a choice in this adventure, do we?

Peter: Clever. You catch on quick~!

Ahoy, mates. Captain Hart at the helm now. I’ll be your tour guide for the voyage. Please keep your arms on the deck at all times. Do not lean on the railing; if you go overboard we’re not coming to fish you out….unless you’re Benjamin.

Benjamin: HEY!! 😡

Right, let’s get started:

✨🇬🇧Port Mayor🇬🇧✨

On your left, you will notice we are passing by Port Mayor, Great Britain. A lovely fishing port run by an absolute bastard of a person. Make sure on your stop you steal a hearty handful from the Royal’s pockets, and try their regional specialty: Port Plum Pudding. Great for the season.

🌋Isle of Talon Rock���

Oh, this one’s a lovely sightseeing adventure! Talon Rock is an inactive volcano in the center of thick jungle. Do watch your feet for snakes; they are quite venomous here. The igneous walls of the lava tubes are home to a variety of rich gems, but make sure you vacate before high tide if you don’t want to get your clothes wet.

✨🇬🇧Portsmouth🇬🇧✨

We arrive at another port. Excellent tailor at this location; this is where I picked out most of Benjamin’s fashion.

Benjamin: I didn’t ASK for—

—You’re welcome. If you get a chance, make sure to piss in the rose garden of the sovereign that governs this port.

✨🪨Echoing Cove🪨✨

This one looks deceptive at first glance, but a trove of valuables rests deep enough inside the many underwater cave systems. You’ll have to do a little spelunking, but if you reach deep enough the treasures are ripe for the taking~

Benjamin: Peter…why do I hear voices?

—AAAAAAAND we are getting the fuck out of here~🏴‍☠️✨

✨🇬🇧Port Florence🇬🇧✨

Aye, Florence. Another posh port with a castle loaded in riches. A very prosperous port town with a king that is all too eager to throw lavish parties and get drunk off of centuries aged wine.

Benjamin: You’re one to talk, captain…

They hold a Regal Ball every year, with a dance competition. The winners take home 50 grand. Ah, a great memory indeed~

Benji: (blushing furiously)

😏

☠️🩸Bloodwater Bay🩸☠️

….Oh shite. This place. Right, well…..some more dense jungle, a thin strip of beach, the waters are red, but don’t be too alarmed…Davey tells us that’s the iron deposits that give more of that rusty hue. There’s a tall waterfall in the center……

Benjamin: …..Peter? Peeeeeeeter?

O-Oh! Well, moving right along…don’t want to linger in this wretched bay….

✨🇮🇪Gregory’s Point🇮🇪✨

Another lovely island between the mainland and Ireland. This is a developed hotspot, turned into a small port town where all are welcome. Pirates, naval officers, merchants, the like. Between the two main countries, this place has its own governance. So, you better have a good reputation if you don’t want to be murdered in your sleep ✨

Benjamin: you say that so nonchalantly, Captain

Mmmmhm. Also home to one of the best doctors this side of the equator. So, if you get wounded, make sure it happens close to Gregory’s Point.

✨🐋Giverny Gulch🐋✨

Another island made of basalt, home to a naval shipwreck. Do watch your step for broken glass, sharp rocks, reanimated corpses—

Benjamin: —I beg your pardon?

—fish and shark carcasses….oh right. Lots of sharks. Be careful of those.

Benjamin: ….Do I hear a whale?

✨🇫🇷Lorraine🇫🇷✨

We’re arriving near France! Jacques: lead us in the singing of the French National Anthem

Jacques: Oui, oui, Capitaine~! ✨

✨🎵 Allons enfant de la patrie,

Le jour de gloire est arrivé! 🎵✨

Benjamin: 😑

✨🎵….Contre nous de la tyrannie,

L'étendard sanglant est levé

L'étendard sanglant est levé

Entendez-vous dans les campagnes

Mugir ces féroces soldats?

Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras

Égorger vos fils et vos compagnes!

Aux armes, citoyens! (Formez)

Vos bataillons!

Marchons! Oui, marchons!

Qu'un sang impur

Abreuve nos sillons! 🎵✨

🏔️Arctic Archipelago🏔️

……

Benjamin: …..Peter?

…..Let’s be off…..I wish not to be here too long.

✨🏝️The Caribbean🏝️✨

Ah, much better~! A nice, warm climate. Benji, love, remind me to acquire a bottle of Ron de Barbados 🇧🇧✨

Benjamin: Trust me, Captain; you won’t forget.

We’ve reached our final stop, but we have a whole tied-up tour group of witnesses. Mmmm…Right, I got it! Men, start hauling them over the rail—

Benjamin: —PETER!!

I’m joooooking~. Start untying them and drop ‘em off at the next port. Thank you for….“choosing”….The Golden Phoenix as your cruise. I’ve been your captain, and have a magnificent stay in Barbados. Jones knows I will~

Benjamin: P-PETER!! 😣

Leaving this open because man I had a lot of fun here ✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below DM me if you want to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@clevah-girlboss , @glasshouses-and-stones , @tragedycoded , @deanwax , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @katenewmanwrites , @fantasy-things-and-such , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @willtheweaver , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @ominous-feychild , @yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane , @nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @aintgonnatakethis , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin , @authorcoledipalo , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @48lexr , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @pippinoftheshire , @badscientist , @dearunreliablenarrator , @worlds-tallest-fairy , @rhikasa , @swordslord

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt XII good omens sEAsOn 2 (the non-traumatic part) episode 1

Alright yes I know, I know, it's been two days since the livestream. I was reading fanfiction. Don't blame me, love made me crazy, and all that. I'm enjoying myself as much as I can before we get to the season 2 finale. But here we go, season 2, episode one, maggots:

[on reading this back after finishing, a lot of text is my being in love with Crowley. mainly, points 3, 4, 9, 14, 17, 18, yes I have issues, feel free to skip that for an absolutely concise and precise summary]

Before the livestream starts, everyone decides that there will be no spoilers whatsoever on the chat, even hidden with the black, because I have a tendency to keep clicking and revealing them. I'm sorry, temptation and all. I have emotional support fruit, an apple, two kiwis, two sapotes and two bananas.

When the livestream starts, it has to be restarted, because I am an incompetent nincompoop and have somehow managed to muck up my settings. And it is absolutely imperative that I watch the opening scene.

So then I do. And immediately have to consume my emotional support apple because I am so fucking in love with Crowley. Already? someone asks. Yes bloody already, I need that apple.

Thanks, guys. I'm broken. Crowley. Just. She looks so peaceful and untraumatised, so delighted with the plans, so full of wonder at what she's creating. Let there be light, she says, and rather than seeing Crowley turn off a streetlight with a flick of his fingers, we get to see her create nebulas. Aziraphale looks at her and he's just instantly so spellbound, and who would bloody blame him? His wings just do a slight dip of realisation that he's fucked when Crowley says the gorgeous line. Look at Crowley. Worried about the apocalypse. Smiling at Aziraphale, and we can see Azi's concern because something as pure as that has to be protected and Aziraphale knows what Heaven will do to Crowley if she dares to ask questions. Crowley is angelic and filled with light and Aziraphale sees that and tries to keep her safe with his words.

Hey spoiler alert, it doesn't work, Crowley's wings are greying even as she protects Azi and Crowley falls and I hate everything and I am filled with unbridled rage.

UNDERSTAND? RAGE.

I am speculating how much pain and torture Crowley went through when she fell into Hell that first time. I am told to not ask questions I don't want answers to.

Maggie sells records, Aziraphale is a cutiepie, and Maggie is very gay for Nina.

Crowley is lounging on a park bench, suit and skinny tie, just being all sexy and demonic and probably contemplating nihilism.

Crowley spreads awareness about duck health. No bread, guys. Frozen peas. He also angsts a lot to Shax (whom I keep mixing up with Michael) about the meaning of life. Someone points out that this is very Barbie of him. "do you ever think about death". Ah, Crowley.

More lesbians gaying. I would kill for Nina's hair.

JIMBRIEL IN THE HOUSE. I WON'T SAY ANYMORE ABOUT HIS ENTRANCE BECAUSE THIS IS NOW A TOPIC OF CONTROVERSY. BUT JIMBRIEL IN THE HOUSE.

Aziraphale, ah I love him, absolutely fucking panics and has the loading symbol over his angelic little head at all times. FINALLY, THIS SHOW IS A COMEDY.

Crowley is leaning on his Bentley and mmmmhm his arms and his lounging and his personality I am back to crunching on my temptation emotional support apple.

Sorry back to the summary. Jim finds Aziraphale funny and says he loves him. Someone points out that this was the fandom upon encountering my dumbass self. "You're funny Asmi we love you."

Aziraphale is a little bitchy babygirl, really just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Just absolutely slaying through every Jimbriel scene. 100000/10.

Six shots of fucking espresso in a big cup. Crowley, I love you. Can I love Crowley any more than this? Yes I can. My love for Crowley is like the universe, infinite and yet ever-expanding, explosive with entropy.

Crowley holds the door open for Aziraphale and holds his plate and honestly what absolute husband (gn) behaviour.

CROWLEY MEETS JIMBRIEL WHO IS FUCKING DUSTING AND LEAPS BACKWARD AND JUST RELIVES TRAUMA WHILE JIM IS CHILLING AND AZIRAPHALE IS STILL GAY PANICKING. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

MARRIAGE QUARRELS ABOUT ADOPTING JIM, JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE FELL-CROWLEY HOUSEHOLD.

Coffeeshop AU lesbians time.

Heaven is horrible.

MURIEL IS BABY I LOVE THEM HELLO CUTIEPATOOTIE.

There is an ethereal paper file.

Beezlebub beezles their way into Crowley's car and is very concerned in Hell about finding Jimbriel.

Nina's partner is a toxic ass don't worry about it.

Sulky Crowley says he's back and apology dance time mmmhm.

Miracle hide Jimbriel time, but they've got to be subtle. They do the miracle. Jim is glad to have friends.

They are very proud of themselves for their subtle miracle.

THEY ARE SO FUCKING USELESS. FUCKING USELESS LITTLE GAYASS DISASTERS JESUS LORD IN HEAVEN. LITERALLY IN HEAVEN ALARM BELLS ARE EVERYWHERE.

GREAT JOB, GAYS. GREAT JOB.

End of episode one. Take this screenshot.

[legacyshenanigans]

More Ominis loving gossip and drama💚

(The gals sitting around a table drinking wine)

Imelda: So then, he went to her room apparently *smirks*

Poppy: Stop?

Natty: Absolutely not?!

MC: What?!

Imelda: mmmmhm! And there were some questionable noises!!

(They all giggle)

Ominis: *rushing through the door* URGH! Sorry I'm late ladies! *quickly walks over to the table and takes a seat* What have I missed?

Poppy: Some VERY juicy gossip *giggles*

Natty: You won't believe it Ominis!

Imelda: Am I starting from the beginning?

Ominis: *giggles* Oh girls you're getting me excited! Yes yes of course Imelda! Please, for me.

MC: *Hands Ominis a glass of wine* Buckle up for this one Omi~

Ominis: *takes the glass* Thank you, love *turns to Imelda* Well?! Come on?!

~

[karimwillia]

Part 9

Warnings: Conflict and Plot Homecoming Dress.

MJ and Riri are ready to give up after almost 2 hours of shopping. Aneka was the only encouragement to continue their search for the right dress. “Rihanna please just try this last one. I need you to trust me.” The dress is a gorgeous deep red color that when she tries it on fits to her form perfectly. There is a slit that runs to the mid thigh and a rather low neckline but still classy. It’s perfect. Riri looks out at Shuri waiting to see some result of the search.

Her attention is on her phone at this moment so she makes a mental note to ask about it later. For now she musters the courage to walk out in the dress for a little show. “Baby can you look at me?” Her voice comes out sweet not much above a whisper. Looking up, Shuri forgets everything she is doing and even how to breathe for a moment. If this is how she looks for Homecoming, Shuri may die at the time of Prom. “You’re perfect.” Are the only words Shuri can muster..

Ri nods and blushes making her feel like she’s the most beautiful being in the world. “Aneka I think we have found the one.” “See I told you to trust me.” Aneka smirks at her cousin who is still stuck. The dress is pinned in places that need to be altered and they soon are on their way. Riri is dropped at home so she can change for the game. Shuri walks her to her door and kisses her goodbye a little less G rated then they have done in the past.

Riri's floating on cloud 9, today is a memory for sure. Suddenly her cloud is waved away when Sharon turns on the light. “Mmmmhm I knew that girl was on the to do list.” Riri was busted but not in a bad way just this is not how they do things in this house. “Sha I can explain. So you know how…” Sharon has her arms crossed over her chest and is still skeptical.

“Baby Sister, calm down and start from the night you got your hair braided.” Why can Riri never remember to breathe? “Sissy, remember when I asked you what I should say if I wanted to have someone do the list with me.” “Yes and I told you to be honest and open. Tell them the truth and maybe be a little bold.” “Yes well surprise! I told her the truth and maybe I was a little more than a little bold.”

Sharon is tickled but she has to question. “What do you mean how bold? I hope you didn’t…” Ri flushes at the thought, has sex crossed her mind absolutely. Would that mean them having a conversation first double absolutely. “Ahhh Sha not that um I did slide her note and we met under the stairs but, I had a panic attack telling her I liked her so we went to her house.”

Sharon is interested to hear more of this. “Ok wait Ms. Social anxiety that’s still bolder than expected from you. Her house?” Ri grins. “She panicked and just thought of the most private place. We talked for hours about everything and this week has been like a fairy tale Sissy.” “It has to be a fairy tale to have you kissing at your front door.” “It just happened.” Riri’s nervous smile is a dead give away that there is more to the story.

Sigh. “We are officially dating, taking things slow. But she is my first kiss.” Sharon is face to face with her Sister wearing a small smile with no teeth. “Oooh Rihanna. She must be something special.” “She is…So Special.” Ri closes her eyes remembering the moments from this week. Sharon looks at her sister giddy. “Someone is falling in love.”

Riri covers her face. “Not yet it can’t be! Sha.That takes time.” Sha chuckles. “It can be love. You have liked her for years and you know her very well. Now you get together and it’s everything you wanted. If it’s not love yet it’s close.” Riri is fiddling with her fingers now love has not crossed her mind could it be? “Sharon.” Taking Ri into her arms Sharon holds her. “Continue to follow your heart. You are a smart girl so you will be fine. Be yourself and let the journey take you where it’s going to take you. But don’t be too wrapped up to talk.” They cuddled up for a little while then got ready for the game before she knew if it was close to game time.

Once ready Riri was waiting for Shuri when a notification popped up. Like most teens she has an ig but for her she is not glued to it. It was a dm from a girl. They stated how they want to “warn” her about Shuri. They bombed her inbox with photos. Showing Shuri kissing some other person from just two weeks ago. Stating how she is Shuri’s ex and they are on and off. Claiming that Shuri was not single and still dates someone else. The photos crushed her, but also how can she be upset? Too many emotions flooded her at once. Was Shuri dating another person? Closing the app Shuri is now at her door but she is not going with her not tonight.

“Hey Baby, are you ready? I grabbed an extra blanket for us.” Shuri can tell the energy is so far off. She stops and stares at a very off putting angry Riri. “Shuri Udaku, are you single?” Shuri didn’t know if this was a joke or test so she answered. “No, I have a girlfriend. She’s short, cute and super smart. Is this a trick?” “No but you think I am Shuri, are you single? Before we got together or whatever this is!” “Yes, for an entire year. Why are you asking me this!” They are somewhat shouting now. “Wrong!” Riri pulls out her phone and shows Shuri the dms and actually sees one more come in. This has gone far enough. “Baby I can explain that is an old picture of me and Elena. I broke up with that girl over a year ago!” “Shuri wants to reach out and hug Riri or touch her hand something because this moment is too tense for them both.

“Then why are they in my dms saying it’s from two weeks ago. Shuri I don’t know what is going on and I don’t know who to believe but I can’t go with you tonight.” “I won’t force you but please believe me. I am not going to hurt you.” Riri is crying and she can tell that Shuri is sincere but everything is happening too fast she needs time. “Good night Shuri.” Riri makes the choice to believe Shuri but she has some thinking to do. Social Media Slander, Fake Dms, accusations about her girlfriend. The spotlight is not all glam.

@somethingcleaverandwhitty @mal-urameshi @shuriris-stuff

[sleepsonfutons]

Back on my Furby bullshit care of the discord crew!! This time I bring you the Corinthian aka Corby~

But that's not all (/ ☆ A☆)/~~

Beware the EXTRA Cursed™️teef version!

Ah yes, you came through for the 100-octane nightmare fuel! Welcome~(❁´◡`❁)

As thanks for coming through, here's a lil story inspired by the folks on Discord who posited that Cori would absolutely love this lil terror and keep it as a pet!

Dream had been looking for his nightmare for the better part of a day when he finally found him yet again in the Waking. Since his remaking the Corinthian had been far more docile, as far as any nightmare might be anyway, so it came as a shock for his nightmare to have wandered so far again. While he hadn't expressly forbidden his creation from leaving the Dreaming, he was still wary to let the Corinthian wander among the dreamers again...given what had happened with his last incarnation. Still he was willing to hold judgment until he saw just what his nightmare was up to. With a flick of his wrist and a spray of sand, Dream stepped forth from his realm into the Waking, straight into the middle of a bustling lakeside park. The sound of various conversations filled the air alongside the squeals of children splashing in the shallows off the sandy beach beyond the line of picnic tables shaded by oversized patio umbrellas. Casting his eyes about Dream immediately picked out his golden-hued creation...and the youthful form of his nephew, Jed. Ahh, an indulgence in his sweet tooth and a visit, Dream thought. He smiled at the scene and the still unexpectedly caring side of his nightmare on display until he noted the alarmed looks the pair were receiving from the surrounding humans. His small smile faltered as he began picking out snippets of what was said by the people who hastened away from his nightmare and nephew like they were cursed.

"Did you see that?!" "What the fuck is that!?" "I thought those things were creepy enough without all these outrageous mods!" "I'm going to have nightmares for months!! That's straight-up nightmare fuel!?" It was the last whispered comment that urged Dream to cross the intervening space in an instant. That mortals would so plainly perceive one of his creations was not to be bor- However, arriving at the table, the King of Nightmares though he may be, Dream, himself, had to pause as he took in the abomination that sat on the table between his nephew and the Corinthian. Begrudgingly he admitted to none but himself that he would have to take notes as the surrounding dreamers' assessment of the...creature...was not inaccurate. It certainly would not look odd among his creations, though, he had to wonder where this monstrosity came from or what had seen to its creation. His nightmare however barely paused in his consumption of his cone as he acknowledged Dream's sudden appearance. "Finally caught up then? I'd wondered when you'd turn up to call me back, my Lord." The Corinthian smirked up at him between licks of his ice cream. "As you can see, I'm just enjoying a cone with my pal. Isn't that right, Jed?" "Mmmmhm," Jed replied, oblivious to the horror of those around and seemingly unaffected by the creature on the table as he continued to eat his cone with a smile. Dream sighed and, flipping the long tails of his coat out of the way, sat down next to his nightmare. "I am not here to call you back as it were. If you had been up to aught that you should not, I would, however, as Jed is enjoying himself and all is well," Dream paused and looked at the disturbing tri-mouthed creature pointedly, "there is no such need." Tracking Dream's gaze, the Corinthian grinned to the point of splitting his face and though his glasses concealed his eye mouths, Dream knew they were mirrored the same manic delight. "Ah, my pet! It's the cutest thing you've ever seen now isn't it?" The nightmare's eyes would be twinkling with mischief if he had standard-issue eyeballs, but revealed itself in the scrunch of his nose instead. "I can see it's not one of yours given your reaction to it. I'd almost wondered if you'd created it as a gift for me, your favorite. 'Course that'd be too bold for you. Can't be showing favoritism now can you?" Dream decidedly did not squirm at that apt assessment, for the Corinthian was indeed his 'favorite' as such things went. He was without a doubt his masterpiece after all. "Certainly not. Still, I would have you explain where you found this...not nightmare." The Corinthian shrugged and bit into his cone, all the ice cream now gone. "Not much to tell. When I stepped through into the Waking and hopped in a car to go pick up Jed, there it was. Sitting pretty in the passenger seat wearing its seat belt all proper to boot. Given the striking resemblance between us though..." Trailing off, the nightmare licked his fingers free of crumbs and ice cream now that he'd finished his cool treat. "I suppose it could be an aspect of me? Though, you giving me the 'power' of creation seems a stretch." The Nightmare King simply nodded as he held the toothy gaze of the furry creature until it stuck three small, pink tongues out at him in a flash before returning to an eerily vacuous countenance. "Hmmm, it certainly is of you and despite my not directly forming it, it is of me as well." Nightmare licked his lips and turned a hungry smirk upon his Corinthian. "It is ours, my little nightmare." This last practically purred as he traced the blonde's jaw, even as Jed made a gagging sound at the obvious flirting between his uncle and 'uncle' Cori.

[writingsbychlo]

Baking anon again, I made the pies a few weeks ago-

I’m making cookies and was thinking about how if Az had a mate that liked to bake Cass would constantly steal her away to bake things and Az would be broody and annoyed until he saw how happy she was to be baking things and trying new recipes and now I’m soft 🥺

that would be so cute, omg. cass absolutely would do that, he'd steal her constantly and he'd try to learn how to bake but epically fail. he always presents burned piles of unrecognisable patisseries to nesta who just bites them and smiles as best she can with a "mmmmhm love it, thanks"

[brownhairedbookworm]

“Mmmmhm! You’ll love this~”

He beamed and kissed her cheek before he teleported themselves to a soft green hill, a chilly breeze flowing through the air. Beyond them stood a staircase leading to absolutely nowhere

"...Yep, maybe I should have not listened to a bunch of Night Mind, before agreeing to an adventure." Monika chuckles, nervously.

[darlingrutherford]

So... Kinky Jaskier. Please elaborate. Pretty please with Geralt on top (or bottom, either's great) ;)

Oh, Jaskier has just the right kind of mindset to have learned a trick or two from his time spent wooing those who need a bit more than what they get from their bland domestic lives (or, just life in general). That includes picking up on a number of kinks those people have enjoyed that he found pleasure in as well.

Jaskier is absolutely the kind of man who can, and will, bring out that chaotic energy to do whatever it is his subject of affection is willing or wants him to do, and he does it passionately. The most common he's come across is people wanting to be held or tied down (or to do the same to him, which he gladly accepts), but he's privvy to quite a few more than that. With enough passion and romance in his veins to melt even the iciest of hearts, Jaskier is quite fond of worship play and appraisal, and, as in most circumstances, is happy to give just as much as he enjoys being on the receiving end.

Jaskier's had a few eye widening romps in other people's chambers where a good half of him wants to back away, but the other half says, quite loudly, "Yes, please!" Such as the rather innocent looking woman who wanted to tie him down and drip candle wax on him while her husband pleasured him - one of Jaskier's finer moments that didn't quite make it into a song, but one he thoroughly enjoyed just the same.

There are of course things Jaskier's not really willing to do (for a man who has no problem wishing death on another bard, he's not really down to making a lover bleed), but his enthusiasm makes it very clear that there's never any harm in asking - in most cases, he'll probably say yes.

Aside from the specifically kinky things he's more than happy to get down to, Jaskier is also good at directing his chaotic passion completely on whoever is in bed with him. Anyone on the receiving end of his affection should expect not only ravenous kisses all over their body, but also that Jaskier won't be satisfied until his lover has come at least twice. He'll want to spend plenty of time watching, and listening, working that person like a finely tuned instrument until he learns every scale they're capable of. He needs plenty of inspiration for his ballads, you know, and what better inspiration could a bard receive than the song he composes with a lover?

[elysianslove]

THAT POLY DRABBLE MMMMHM now i cant stop thinking abt yuuji absolutely railing the reader when he comes back n hes going so hard even when she whimpers for him to slow down hes like 'this is my reward isn't it?' >:)

AHHHH I LOVE IT WHEN YOU GUYS ADD TO MY POSTS JSDHSKJ

him, her, megumi, and everyone and their mama knows that yuuji can go for multiple rounds on end. if that day wasn’t evidence enough i don’t know what is. he and megumi make her cum so many times she actually blacks out at the end of it all, for a few split seconds. he eats her out doggy style, eats her out on her back, fingers her as he eats her pussy, sukuna appears for a few to lick at her pussy with him, and then he fucks her, in a mating press, with her legs perched on his shoulders, has her squealing and her legs swinging and shaking, and then he fucks her with her ass up face down, except her face is in megumi’s lap, and he’s holding the back of her head down, forcing her to choke as he thrusts into her. he makes her sit on megumi’s face and fucks her face, fucks her throat, and then they both fuck her, in each hole, one in her ass and the other in her cunt. yuuji’s beneath her, while she sits up with her back to him, bouncing on his cock as it stuffs her ass, and megumi fucks her cunt, sloppy and messy with yuuji’s cum and yours and later his. and it’s all fun until yuuji gets the really genius idea of them both fucking into your pussy. he pulls out and presses just by megumi’s cock, slipping inside. it’s a really tight fit, but the way it has you screaming, cumming instantly from him just sheathing himself fully inside, is all worth it

seems like i had a lot to say wtf 🧍🏻‍♀️

[dreamsclock]

oKAY i’m sorry this is so late i kept forgetting to ask but-

c!technoblade is Absolutely a hufflepuff, not ravenclaw. like. his whole Thing is about loyalty. it’s why he cares so much about philza, and why tommy leaving hurt so much. it’s aLSO why pogtopia not telling him exactly what their plan was and betraying him caused him to get so upset, that + i’m preeeetty sure hufflepuffs also value honesty? so that ties into him being so upset w pogtopia as well. as for hard working, he Literally got full sets of netherite armor for people he cared about, despite the fact that he thought he might have to fight them (they were Less good, but netherite is still netherite). he Grinds™️, and that’s very hufflepuff of him. he himself is also straightforward and honest, making his motives and goals crystal clear from the very start and not forcing people to do anything they don’t want to (at pogtopia, beginning of the bedrock bros arc w tommy when he tells him all about what he wants and says tommy can sit out if he so chooses, the syndicate…..). OH AND HOW COULD I FORGET his desire for fairness and justice: “those that have treated me with kindness, i will repay that kindness tenfold. and those that treat me with injustice? that use me? that hunt me down, that hurt my friends? i shall repay that injustice a thousand times over” mmmmhm. and his anarchism as well is just a desire for everyone to live happily in a world where they don’t have to be controlled. he doesn’t give up, he’s determined, and this last one’s a bit superficial bUT he does love animals a lot. he collects them and treat them very well (except the attack dogs. but,,,, those are outliers and he does!! still express happiness when there are dogs that survived against the odds <3). anyway. techno hufflepuff i rest my case

wait. WAIT. WAIT HANG ON YOU’RE RIGHT. THIS IS THE ONLY MISTAKE I’VE EVER MADE EVER BUT YOU’RE RIGHT. C!TECHNO IS ABSOLUTELY A HUFFLEPUFF HOLY SHIT.

[rillabrooke]

oh to write half as well as dickens. lots of set-up in this chapter.

tracking: pretty words, i’m crying, love, violence/hatred, duality, les mis parallels, foreshadowing

"In this respect the House was much on a par with the Country; which did very often disinherit its sons for suggesting improvements in laws and customs that had long been highly objectionable, but were only the more respectable." love me some self-aware political commentary.

". . . Tellson’s was the triumphant perfection of inconvenience." an all-around great string of words. just the whole description of tellson's is so vivid. dickens gives it personality by describing it as being devoid of personality. it almost becomes a person as it reflects the rickety old workers inside. emma of booktube fame often comments on how dickens brings his buildings and furniture to life, and she is absolutely right.

"Death is Nature’s remedy for all things, and why not Legislation’s? . . . Not that it did the least good in the way of prevention—it might almost have been worth remarking that the fact was exactly the reverse" more self-aware political commentary. once again goes to show that england is no better than her sister across the sea, just a bit less public about it.

"It was a very muddy boot, and may introduce the odd circumstance connected with Mr. Cruncher’s domestic economy, that, whereas he often came home after banking hours with clean boots, he often got up next morning to find the same boots covered with clay." filing that one away for later.

"a poor devil of a honest tradesman" mmmmhm. i think the "honest tradesman" bit is a callback to the very first chapter when dickens talks about the tradesmen who turn highwaymen at night.

"as if he had been up all night at a party which had taken anything but a convivial turn" dickens do be laying it on thick in this chapter.

"It could scarcely be called a trade, in spite of his favourite description of himself as 'a honest tradesman.'" as i was saying... i think jerry is lying to himself until he believes it.

"'Al-ways rusty! His fingers is al-ways rusty!' muttered young Jerry. 'Where does my father get all that iron rust from? He don’t get no iron rust here!'" a-ha another clue! i find this absolutely disgusting, though. jerry, go wash your hands.

Book the Second—The Golden Thread

[X] Chapter I. Five Years Later

Tellson’s Bank by Temple Bar was an old-fashioned place, even in the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty. It was very small, very dark, very ugly, very incommodious. It was an old-fashioned place, moreover, in the moral attribute that the partners in the House were proud of its smallness, proud of its darkness, proud of its ugliness, proud of its incommodiousness. They were even boastful of its eminence in those particulars, and were fired by an express conviction that, if it were less objectionable, it would be less respectable. This was no passive belief, but an active weapon which they flashed at more convenient places of business. Tellson’s (they said) wanted no elbow-room, Tellson’s wanted no light, Tellson’s wanted no embellishment. Noakes and Co.’s might, or Snooks Brothers’ might; but Tellson’s, thank Heaven—!

Any one of these partners would have disinherited his son on the question of rebuilding Tellson’s. In this respect the House was much on a par with the Country; which did very often disinherit its sons for suggesting improvements in laws and customs that had long been highly objectionable, but were only the more respectable.

Thus it had come to pass, that Tellson’s was the triumphant perfection of inconvenience. After bursting open a door of idiotic obstinacy with a weak rattle in its throat, you fell into Tellson’s down two steps, and came to your senses in a miserable little shop, with two little counters, where the oldest of men made your cheque shake as if the wind rustled it, while they examined the signature by the dingiest of windows, which were always under a shower-bath of mud from Fleet-street, and which were made the dingier by their own iron bars proper, and the heavy shadow of Temple Bar. If your business necessitated your seeing “the House,” you were put into a species of Condemned Hold at the back, where you meditated on a misspent life, until the House came with its hands in its pockets, and you could hardly blink at it in the dismal twilight. Your money came out of, or went into, wormy old wooden drawers, particles of which flew up your nose and down your throat when they were opened and shut. Your bank-notes had a musty odour, as if they were fast decomposing into rags again. Your plate was stowed away among the neighbouring cesspools, and evil communications corrupted its good polish in a day or two. Your deeds got into extemporised strong-rooms made of kitchens and sculleries, and fretted all the fat out of their parchments into the banking-house air. Your lighter boxes of family papers went up-stairs into a Barmecide room, that always had a great dining-table in it and never had a dinner, and where, even in the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty, the first letters written to you by your old love, or by your little children, were but newly released from the horror of being ogled through the windows, by the heads exposed on Temple Bar with an insensate brutality and ferocity worthy of Abyssinia or Ashantee.

But indeed, at that time, putting to death was a recipe much in vogue with all trades and professions, and not least of all with Tellson’s. Death is Nature’s remedy for all things, and why not Legislation’s? Accordingly, the forger was put to Death; the utterer of a bad note was put to Death; the unlawful opener of a letter was put to Death; the purloiner of forty shillings and sixpence was put to Death; the holder of a horse at Tellson’s door, who made off with it, was put to Death; the coiner of a bad shilling was put to Death; the sounders of three-fourths of the notes in the whole gamut of Crime, were put to Death. Not that it did the least good in the way of prevention—it might almost have been worth remarking that the fact was exactly the reverse—but, it cleared off (as to this world) the trouble of each particular case, and left nothing else connected with it to be looked after. Thus, Tellson’s, in its day, like greater places of business, its contemporaries, had taken so many lives, that, if the heads laid low before it had been ranged on Temple Bar instead of being privately disposed of, they would probably have excluded what little light the ground floor had, in a rather significant manner.

Cramped in all kinds of dim cupboards and hutches at Tellson’s, the oldest of men carried on the business gravely. When they took a young man into Tellson’s London house, they hid him somewhere till he was old. They kept him in a dark place, like a cheese, until he had the full Tellson flavour and blue-mould upon him. Then only was he permitted to be seen, spectacularly poring over large books, and casting his breeches and gaiters into the general weight of the establishment.

Outside Tellson’s—never by any means in it, unless called in—was an odd-job-man, an occasional porter and messenger, who served as the live sign of the house. He was never absent during business hours, unless upon an errand, and then he was represented by his son: a grisly urchin of twelve, who was his express image. People understood that Tellson’s, in a stately way, tolerated the odd-job-man. The house had always tolerated some person in that capacity, and time and tide had drifted this person to the post. His surname was Cruncher, and on the youthful occasion of his renouncing by proxy the works of darkness, in the easterly parish church of Hounsditch, he had received the added appellation of Jerry.

The scene was Mr. Cruncher’s private lodging in Hanging-sword-alley, Whitefriars: the time, half-past seven of the clock on a windy March morning, Anno Domini seventeen hundred and eighty. (Mr. Cruncher himself always spoke of the year of our Lord as Anna Dominoes: apparently under the impression that the Christian era dated from the invention of a popular game, by a lady who had bestowed her name upon it.)

Mr. Cruncher’s apartments were not in a savoury neighbourhood, and were but two in number, even if a closet with a single pane of glass in it might be counted as one. But they were very decently kept. Early as it was, on the windy March morning, the room in which he lay abed was already scrubbed throughout; and between the cups and saucers arranged for breakfast, and the lumbering deal table, a very clean white cloth was spread.

Mr. Cruncher reposed under a patchwork counterpane, like a Harlequin at home. At first, he slept heavily, but, by degrees, began to roll and surge in bed, until he rose above the surface, with his spiky hair looking as if it must tear the sheets to ribbons. At which juncture, he exclaimed, in a voice of dire exasperation:

“Bust me, if she ain’t at it agin!”

A woman of orderly and industrious appearance rose from her knees in a corner, with sufficient haste and trepidation to show that she was the person referred to.

“What!” said Mr. Cruncher, looking out of bed for a boot. “You’re at it agin, are you?”

After hailing the morn with this second salutation, he threw a boot at the woman as a third. It was a very muddy boot, and may introduce the odd circumstance connected with Mr. Cruncher’s domestic economy, that, whereas he often came home after banking hours with clean boots, he often got up next morning to find the same boots covered with clay.

“What,” said Mr. Cruncher, varying his apostrophe after missing his mark—“what are you up to, Aggerawayter?”

“I was only saying my prayers.”

“Saying your prayers! You’re a nice woman! What do you mean by flopping yourself down and praying agin me?”

“I was not praying against you; I was praying for you.”

“You weren’t. And if you were, I won’t be took the liberty with. Here! your mother’s a nice woman, young Jerry, going a praying agin your father’s prosperity. You’ve got a dutiful mother, you have, my son. You’ve got a religious mother, you have, my boy: going and flopping herself down, and praying that the bread-and-butter may be snatched out of the mouth of her only child.”

Master Cruncher (who was in his shirt) took this very ill, and, turning to his mother, strongly deprecated any praying away of his personal board.

“And what do you suppose, you conceited female,” said Mr. Cruncher, with unconscious inconsistency, “that the worth of your prayers may be? Name the price that you put your prayers at!”

“They only come from the heart, Jerry. They are worth no more than that.”

“Worth no more than that,” repeated Mr. Cruncher. “They ain’t worth much, then. Whether or no, I won’t be prayed agin, I tell you. I can’t afford it. I’m not a going to be made unlucky by your sneaking. If you must go flopping yourself down, flop in favour of your husband and child, and not in opposition to ’em. If I had had any but a unnat’ral wife, and this poor boy had had any but a unnat’ral mother, I might have made some money last week instead of being counter-prayed and countermined and religiously circumwented into the worst of luck. B-u-u-ust me!” said Mr. Cruncher, who all this time had been putting on his clothes, “if I ain’t, what with piety and one blowed thing and another, been choused this last week into as bad luck as ever a poor devil of a honest tradesman met with! Young Jerry, dress yourself, my boy, and while I clean my boots keep a eye upon your mother now and then, and if you see any signs of more flopping, give me a call. For, I tell you,” here he addressed his wife once more, “I won’t be gone agin, in this manner. I am as rickety as a hackney-coach, I’m as sleepy as laudanum, my lines is strained to that degree that I shouldn’t know, if it wasn’t for the pain in ’em, which was me and which somebody else, yet I’m none the better for it in pocket; and it’s my suspicion that you’ve been at it from morning to night to prevent me from being the better for it in pocket, and I won’t put up with it, Aggerawayter, and what do you say now!”

Growling, in addition, such phrases as “Ah! yes! You’re religious, too. You wouldn’t put yourself in opposition to the interests of your husband and child, would you? Not you!” and throwing off other sarcastic sparks from the whirling grindstone of his indignation, Mr. Cruncher betook himself to his boot-cleaning and his general preparation for business. In the meantime, his son, whose head was garnished with tenderer spikes, and whose young eyes stood close by one another, as his father’s did, kept the required watch upon his mother. He greatly disturbed that poor woman at intervals, by darting out of his sleeping closet, where he made his toilet, with a suppressed cry of “You are going to flop, mother. —Halloa, father!” and, after raising this fictitious alarm, darting in again with an undutiful grin.

Mr. Cruncher’s temper was not at all improved when he came to his breakfast. He resented Mrs. Cruncher’s saying grace with particular animosity.

“Now, Aggerawayter! What are you up to? At it again?”

His wife explained that she had merely “asked a blessing.”

“Don’t do it!” said Mr. Crunches looking about, as if he rather expected to see the loaf disappear under the efficacy of his wife’s petitions. “I ain’t a going to be blest out of house and home. I won’t have my wittles blest off my table. Keep still!”

Exceedingly red-eyed and grim, as if he had been up all night at a party which had taken anything but a convivial turn, Jerry Cruncher worried his breakfast rather than ate it, growling over it like any four-footed inmate of a menagerie. Towards nine o’clock he smoothed his ruffled aspect, and, presenting as respectable and business-like an exterior as he could overlay his natural self with, issued forth to the occupation of the day.

It could scarcely be called a trade, in spite of his favourite description of himself as “a honest tradesman.” His stock consisted of a wooden stool, made out of a broken-backed chair cut down, which stool, young Jerry, walking at his father’s side, carried every morning to beneath the banking-house window that was nearest Temple Bar: where, with the addition of the first handful of straw that could be gleaned from any passing vehicle to keep the cold and wet from the odd-job-man’s feet, it formed the encampment for the day. On this post of his, Mr. Cruncher was as well known to Fleet-street and the Temple, as the Bar itself,—and was almost as in-looking.

Encamped at a quarter before nine, in good time to touch his three-cornered hat to the oldest of men as they passed in to Tellson’s, Jerry took up his station on this windy March morning, with young Jerry standing by him, when not engaged in making forays through the Bar, to inflict bodily and mental injuries of an acute description on passing boys who were small enough for his amiable purpose. Father and son, extremely like each other, looking silently on at the morning traffic in Fleet-street, with their two heads as near to one another as the two eyes of each were, bore a considerable resemblance to a pair of monkeys. The resemblance was not lessened by the accidental circumstance, that the mature Jerry bit and spat out straw, while the twinkling eyes of the youthful Jerry were as restlessly watchful of him as of everything else in Fleet-street.

The head of one of the regular indoor messengers attached to Tellson’s establishment was put through the door, and the word was given:

“Porter wanted!”

“Hooray, father! Here’s an early job to begin with!”

Having thus given his parent God speed, young Jerry seated himself on the stool, entered on his reversionary interest in the straw his father had been chewing, and cogitated.

“Al-ways rusty! His fingers is al-ways rusty!” muttered young Jerry. “Where does my father get all that iron rust from? He don’t get no iron rust here!”

[yikestripes]

Satisfying

@dissatisfactionbuthuman here you go !! i really ran with this request LOL

i actually have the cracking thing i was referring to- it’s called hip dysplasia but there’s also a shoulder type (i have both)

request: Omg can you please do a fic where Spence has a kink for something super common for the reader to do like stretching or something and she keeps doing it around him accidentally!?

word count: 1,566

warnings: talks of kinks? nothing really, sliiiight hints at smut.

You raised your arms high above your head, hearing a satisfying crack come from your shoulder joints. You resumed your paperwork, not knowing that you had caught Spencer’s attention. A small blush crept up to his cheeks as he turned back to his own work, trying to ignore the thoughts that were itching at the back of his mind. You rose shortly later, a resounding crack from your hip sounded as you walked past Spencer’s desk, and he swore you started doing it on purpose. You two had only been dating for about 2 months, after a long drawn out confession had taken place one night after an especially long jet ride home. There was no way you knew about one of Spencer’s most guarded secrets yet; he never told anyone about his cracking kink, and he definitely didn’t intend to scare you off so quickly by telling you now.

The only question was, did you somehow find out and now were trying to tease him with it? There was no way. He had made sure not to tell anyone else in the office and unless you were a mind reader, there was no way. He abandoned the thought for the better part of an hour before you were all called to the conference room for a briefing.

Good. Spencer thought. This will definitely take my mind away from everything- especially her. You sat by his side and let your hand come to rest on his forearm, something you would do every time you were near each other. It was a simple gesture, whether it was to remind her that Spencer was all hers, other women, or just to remind herself that he was still there, it didn’t really matter. Spencer took your hand under the table to save yourselves from a look from Hotch regarding your ability to work together, which you’d received more times than either of you would like to admit.

You looked back and smiled at Spencer, who was chewing his lip as he was clearly thinking about something that was not related to the case. You squeezed his hand gently to grab his attention, but he shook his head slightly and offered you a tightlipped smile. He was acting strange, especially for Spencer, but you shrugged it off and pretended to pay attention to the rest of the case. You could study up on the plane; first, you had to figure out what was bothering your boyfriend.

As soon as Hotch announced wheel’s up, you were already out of the conference room, sitting on Spencer’s desk with your go bag in hand.

“What’s up, Spence?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“N-nothing,” He said, offering you a real smile. You narrowed your eyes at his retreating back, but decided it was better not to push it.

The jet ride was completely uneventful; you, Spencer, JJ, and Emily traded theories back and forth about the latest sicko while discussing whether or not the latest kidnapped victim was dead or not. You announced your desire for coffee, standing up and going to the back of the plane; another crack from your hip rang out as you felt a small release in your back. You had joint problems that stemmed from sports and an undiagnosed disorder that affected a few if not all of your biggest joints, including your shoulders and hips. This was the cause for all of the popping and cracking every time you moved a stiffened joint.

Little did you know, you were driving Spencer absolutely wild- more so than usual, that is.

“Hey, JJ- Has (Y/N) a-always, um, cracked like that?” He asked, trying to make his desires less obvious.

“What do you mean?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, well, whenever she stands up after sitting for some time or moves her arm suddenly…” Spencer trailed off.

“I guess so. She told me that she has some thing in her joints that cause that, why? Does it freak you out?” She grinned.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“U-uh,” He swallowed hard. “I mean I guess so, yeah. Is that weird?” He lowered his voice.

“Not at all! It used to absolutely DISGUST my cousin whenever i’d crack my neck or my back around her. It’s some sort of phobia I think,” Spencer breathed a sigh of relief when he realized what she was saying.

“What’s disgusting?” You asked, handing Spencer the other mug in your hand.

“Oh, we were just talking about how cracking joints disgust some people. Our dear doctor apparently isn’t too fond of it!” She said with a laugh.

“You never told me that,” You said, suddenly feeling slightly self conscious.

“Well I-I never thought about bringing it up before, I guess.” He took a long sip from the mug before excusing himself. You burned holes into the back of his head as he headed towards the bathroom.

“That was weird.” You muttered, reopening the case file.

***

“Looks like our unsub decided to dump the body in a hurry,” Spencer announced, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Yeah, this is a pretty foot-traffic heavy area so I guess someone was coming.” You responded.

“It completely forced them to change their M.O, they didn’t have time for the rest of their usual ritual.”

Your knee cracked as you crouched down next to the body, grimacing at the sound.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking up at Spencer. He rubbed a gloved hand on your shoulder blade and smiled.

“No need to apologize, my love. Hey- what’s that shiny thing?” He pointed to a dangling silver necklace that was hooked on a nearby branch.

“Oh, this must have been the necklace she was wearing the morning of the kidnapping. It’s amethyst,” You placed it in a bag and handed it to one of the crime scene investigators, removing a glove to call Hotch.

The rest of the investigation had been pretty easy, the unsub had been lingering around the dumpsite for a little longer than he should have, just to get off from his crime a few more times. You stood outside of the small farmhouse, looking over the sea of flashing lights and reporters that surrounded the crime scene.

You tilted your head and earned a satisfying crack from your neck, and did the same on the other side.

“Oof,” Spencer whispered, grimacing.

“Does it really bother you that much? I didn’t realize you were standing right-” Spencer cut you off with a kiss, mid sentence.

“It doesn’t bother me at all.”

“But JJ said on the plane-” He placed his hands on your shoulders, and leaned forward so your foreheads were touching.

“I was lying, (Y/N). I don’t hate the sound of cracking, I, uh…” He trailed off and licked his lips, breaking eye contact. Your eyes widened as he looked down at the ground.

“Spencer Reid do you have a k-” Spencer’s own eyes widened as he clapped his gloveless hand over your mouth.

“Shhh!” He said as you glared.

“What?”

“I don’t want the entire state of Texas to know!” He hissed. You rolled your eyes.

“Alright alright, I won’t say anything. How long has this been going on? Since before we were dating? My joints crack literally ALL the time.” You thought back to earlier that morning, when he could barely take his eyes off of you while you were doing paperwork. You had gone back and forth to the copy machine probably 3 separate times, various joints in your legs cracking each time you stood up. Spencer swallowed and offered a small grin.

“Does it bother you?” He asked, his brown eyes gleaming.

“No! No. It’s absolutely fine. I just wish I had more control of when it happens,” You lowered your voice and cocked a single eyebrow. Spencer bit his lip when Morgan started calling out to you from across the field.

“Hey, Lovebirds, get over here! We’re leaving.” You winked at Spencer and walked in Morgan’s direction, pausing to crouch quickly, earning you a small crack. Spencer dropped his jaw and kept close behind you, causing you to giggle.

“You’re the worst.” He muttered in your ear.

“Mmmmhm,” You hummed.

You boarded the plane shortly after, sitting down in the back, and immediately taking off your shoes and curling your legs underneath you. Spencer sat next to you and pulled out a book. Very quickly into the flight, you got bored. You looked around the cabin and the majority of the team was asleep, save for Hotch, who was filling out the remaining paperwork with the help of Rossi. Spencer was still reading beside you, running his thumb across your knuckles without breaking his concentration. Suddenly, you felt the urge to crack your fingers. You grinned mischievously and took your hand back.

You started by cracking your index finger, which he either didn’t hear or actively chose to ignore. You cracked your middle finger and ring finger, which caused a blush to rise in his cheeks. You cracked the rest of your hand and got to work on the other when he finally gave you the attention you were searching for. He set his book down on the table in front of you and looked at you, and raised his eyebrows. You grinned wider and wiggled your eyebrows.

“Later, we’ll be home in 20 minutes tops.” He whispered in your ear. You saved the rest of your cracking for when you got home, because you had a ton pent up.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Omg I have no clue if you’re taking requests rn, but I just thought of something really fucking cute and I had to tell you! Ok ok, so imagine the reader is sitting on the balcony that has a roof while it softly rains, and they’re just sketching or reading while quietly singing La Vie En Rose ( the Chloe Moriondo version 😉) and Dettlaff happens to come home and hears her and he just fuckin swoons or something? like thats his GIRL! Fuck! I’m sorry I’m in my feels rn and this Man deserves someone singing soft love songs abott it him🥺 Please don’t feel like you have to write about this, only if you want to hun!💕—🍯

A/N: Not gonna lie, i had to look this song up and omg i am so glad i did it is so freaking cute!!!! I hope you like this baby :)

***

Dettlaff pushed the hood off of his head as he closed the door to the house behind himself. He untied his cloak and hung it on the hook just behind the door. 

He paused for a moment to listen, surprised that you hadn’t greeted him already. You were usually in the kitchen waiting eagerly for him to arrive home. 

The house was silent, save for the crackling fire in the hearth and the light tapping of rain against the windows. 

He opened his mouth to call out for you, but then his ears picked up on a noise. It was the sound of your heartbeat. He tuned in to the sound, learning that you were upstairs on the balcony. A pencil scratched gently against parchment. Then he heard your voice. 

“Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat….”

Your voice was angelic, and stole his breath. 

Silently, Dettlaff climbed the stairs and went to the bedroom the balcony was connected to.

“Hold me close and hold me fast This magic spell you cast This is la vie en rose When you kiss me heaven sighs….”

Dettlaff stepped into the room, eyes peering out onto the balcony. He could see your feet hanging over the side of the chair that was out there. You carefully bounced one foot up and down while you continued to sing quietly and sketch in your book. 

The vampire moved a little further into the room, wanting to see your face. 

A smile came to his lips when he could finally see you. There was a crinkle between your brows as you focused on whatever it was you were drawing. Your eyes were focused on the parchment, wanting to make sure everything was done perfectly. 

“Though I close my eyes I see la vie en rose When you press me to your heart I’m in a world apart….”

Dettlaff couldn’t believe that you were his, that someone so beautiful, so stunning, so captivating, could love a creature like him. He knew he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your kind eyes and gentle words. He was a monster. 

But somehow, somehow you were his. You loved him and cared for him. No one had ever been so genuinely kind to him- with the exception of Regis of course. 

Dettlaff decided to make himself known. He moved out to the doorway of the balcony, smiling softly at you. 

You quit singing and looked up, eyes brightening at the sight of him. 

“Dettlaff!” You put the sketch book down on the little end table next to you and stood up so you could hug him. 

He caught you as you threw yourself at him, arms wrapping securely around your waist.

“I missed you.” Your voice was muffled against his chest. That was where you always liked to hide your face. It was like you found comfort there. 

“I’ve only been gone since this morning.” He kissed the top of your head, one large hand rubbing your back. 

“I know, but it’s been a long day without you.”

He chuckled softly and squeezed you firmly. 

You pulled away from him and moved to get the sketch book, wanting to close it before he could see what you were drawing.  

“Are you going to keep that from me until you’re finished?” Dettlaff hummed, teasing you. You never liked to let him see your work until they were complete. 

You paused for a moment, biting your bottom lip. 

“This one…. It is finished.” You looked up at him through your lashes. “But I think it’s stupid. It was just-just something to keep me busy while you were gone.”

“Nothing you draw is stupid.” He assured you, holding his hand out for you. You put your hand into his and he pulled you back into his arms. “But if you don’t want to show me, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just…. Our hands.” You muttered, though he could hear you perfectly. 

He stayed silent. He did want to see what you had done, and his curiosity spiked at your words. But he didn’t want to pressure you into showing him.

“I’m positive it’s amazing.” He kissed your head. “Everything you draw is amazing.”

You smiled bashfully. 

“I think we should take a little nap.” You moved further into the room to put your book down on your side of the bed. 

“A nap sounds pleasant.” Dettlaff hummed. 

The two of you settled down in bed, you with your face buried in his chest and him with his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

***

When he woke up, Dettlaff found you laying with your back to him, but you were still tucked against his chest. His eyes watched you for a few moments before something just beyond you caught his attention. It was your sketchbook. It had been left open. 

He lifted his head, brows furrowed together. He was positive you had closed it before you both drifted off to sleep. 

There was a loose piece of parchment sitting on the opened book. 

You can look at it if you want.

Dettlaff smiled at the heart sketched next to your name. He found it adorable that you signed off on the little letter even though he knew your handwriting. 

He pulled one arm from around you and reached over to pick up the sketch book, curious. 

His lips parted and his breath escaped through them. 

You had drawn his hand holding yours. It wasn’t just a little sketch. There was shading and dimension and effort put into it. The veins in the back of Dettlaff’s hand were evident and so lifelike. The ring he wore on his pointer finger as well as his ring finger were there too. 

You shifted in the bed, catching his attention. He looked down at you, absolutely melting on the spot. He didn’t know you paid that much attention to his hands. And to know that you were thinking about him all day? About holding his hand? 

Dettlaff put the book down and settled back into the bed, arms wrapping tightly around you. He tucked his nose into your neck, taking in a deep breath. 

“I love you, darling.”

“Mmmmhm. Love you too, Dettlaff.” 

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @you-fxcking-wish-bish @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @she-wolfoftheinquisition @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @awkward-turtles-world

[andmynewlymeltedheart]

yo. i love how everyone (including canon) has Barry pine after Lup. i LOVE it. I yell about it always. but also like

Lup was pining BIG time

like it definitely starts with her seeing Barry work on some repairs on the Starblaster one day, he’s just doing work and being hot and Lup is just like “hey Taako i think????? i am a little horny for the nerd” and Taako is like “gross but okay next” and she brushes it off because it’s probably just proximity, right?

and then it turns into a friendship and she’s like “actually I DON’T want to bone down on this nerd because he’s my FRIEND and ONLY my FRIEND” and Taako is like “mmmmhm cool and also dope ;)” and Lup elbows him in the ribs

and then Lup spends more time with Barry and feels this really strong bond with him, this deep emotional connection, and it grows stronger and stronger until one day she looks at him, working on the robot conduit for a spirit who’s finding their ~current bliss~ in shocking the absolute SHIT out of him, and she’s laughing so hard that she can’t see through tears pouring out of her eyes. and she wipes the tears away and her vision clears and...

it’s like she’s seeing him for the first time

like everything around him is a little blurred but he’s in high definition

and he turns and smiles at her sheepishly and she blushes deeply, and though she tries to hide it by pretending to turn her attention to something else she can SWEAR she sees his cheeks go red, too.

And she keeps it to herself for a LONG time because the feeling of being in love with someone who doesn’t know it is so nice and so heartbreaking and so delicious that she doesn’t want to share it just yet. and she’s scared.

but she spends more time with him. and she flirts with him. and he flirts with her too,

she thinks?

but she always doubts herself because “He’s just nice to everyone he’s just being nice right” and Taako slaps his palm to his forehead, because his sister is equally SO brilliant and SO fucken clueless that it’s endearing

and Lup asks Barry to a meal in Tesseralia and the food tastes even better when she’s with him . And Barry cuts his leg after tripping on a tree root and Lup cleans it up and she can swear that even though it looks bad she’d clean up any gross thing on this man if it meant helping him, being near him. and there’s a few cycles where she dies or he dies and on the ones when she’s left without him she wonders if this one will be it, and prays to some god somewhere that it isn’t.

because she hasn’t told him yet. and she has to tell him.

but then they see each other again and, well, that can wait until they’re all settled.

and Lup is terrified.

but still they grow. and they learn. and they become closer.

and they do little things for each other

squash bugs

make snacks

loan books

offer tea

catch glasses as they fall

and it comes to a point where Lup CAN’T keep it to herself anymore, she’s overflowing, she’s BURSTING, and she pushes Taako into his quarters and locks the door and it takes a second for his confusion to wear off but she tells him absolutely EVERYTHING

“I been knew homie but I’m glad you told me”

and she gets a little awkward around Barry now that a set of eyes can see REALLY what’s going on, even if it is just Taako

and Barry notices and asks her if she’s alright and she gets even more awkward because she tries to stay cool, she’s never had to TRY to be cool what the fuck is this GEEK DOING TO HER

but she’s more aware of glancing at Barry when she thinks he isn’t looking

more aware of how much she laughs at his jokes

more aware of how often she says his name

more aware of little touches on his arm or shoulder when she wants his attention

it all feels electric and scary and it’s almost too sweet for Taako to bear but he would never SAY that OUT LOUD so he occasionally makes a gagging face at his sister when they’re being extra cute and she threatens to kill him (siblings are ride or die, y’all, and this time it’s die)

and so much time passes, so many opportunities drift away and she kicks herself and curses the butterflies that have taken up a permanent residence in her stomach

but, finally, they get to the Conservatory. and they hear about what they have to do to get The Light. and not even a moment after Davenport’s debriefing she makes a promise to her brother.

“Here,” Lup states, facing him, a seriousness in her features that she only shows when she really means something

And it takes him a second to get exactly what she means.

“Here?

And she looks at Barry and is unable to fight the smile spreading like wildfire across her face.

“Here.”

And she glances at her brother and winks, and her heart races as she walks toward him, towards Barry: the love of her lives.

Because this year, this cycle, he’s gonna know.

[gingerwritess]

Hey, Theo! I hope 2020 has been treating you kindly this far (and in the future). I really loved the latest part of the predating idiots. 🥰 Thanks for writing it!!! Not more importantly, but I have noticed that you stopped using gifs when you answer asks. And if this is permanent I would like this to be a request to share your absolute favourite Loki/Tom Hiddelston gif. And if that’s not the case, I would still like to know. Anyway, hope you’re fine and lol (lots of love, obviously)...💕

oh thank you lovely!!

i did stop using gifs on some recent asks, mostly just because it was getting really overwhelming to open my inbox and know i needed to respond to everything. finding the gifs takes a lot of time that i just didn’t have :( but it’s not permanent, i just might not put gifs on every ask!

goodness i don’t think i could ever pick just ONE gif of Tom/Loki to be my favourite…

under the cut there’s some of my favourites (a LOT of my favourites, oops)

ok i love this one he’s so cute and sleepy i wanna run my fingers through his hair and smooch him v gently on the temple and let him sleep

PRETTY. basically any Laing gif wow i can’t help it with this dude sheesh (minus the beard in this movie. NOT a fan of the beard.)

this requires no explanation. but. HAND.

on to the next character.

hoo boy this is just pretty. he’s so pretty.

he’s. SO LONG. when does he end?

clean shaven Tom um. HELLO.

next character…hmm

MY PERIOD ROMANCE PIRATE BABY. these glasses UGH and the all black coat and wow he’s just a work of art

JAW?? HOW? WHAT??? PIRATE BABY!!!

these :)) shirts :)))) are everything :)))

who’s next

oh it’s this lil guy :’) i like my men with a side of emotional turmoil :)

this is just. babie. he babe. he’s a disney prince, happy and young and freakishly beautiful and wow just. wow.

HE IS SO. GOT DAMN. PRETTY.

so yeah literally any thor one Loki gif. mmmmhm. baby.

UP NEXT

absolutely ANY gif from the germany scene, oh lordy

here have a loki gif dump idk this one is pretty and now i’m distracted

he’s :) out of breath :)

walk :) gaze :) WOW :)

and a million more WHEW