#too many egg puns

[plaguethewaters]

i think i found the Worst fanfic ive ever read. in my entire life

[fountainpenguin]

Ahasbands are great in Last Life because you get Mumbo throwing out fun lines like "Wanna kiss?" with no build-up and he calls their marriage "tactical" and he just wanders around being happy-go-lucky, giggly, and throwing his husband under the bus.

Then there's Martyn who covers Mumbo during a crime scene, canonically wears some kind of commitment ring, is one button click away from trading his life for Mumbo's, and he kinda tails Mumbo around the map and occasionally mutters things like "I get it- I'm your husband, so I'm just supposed to know" and "Did you forget you're married?" and "Yeah, whatever- I'm taking the ring off."

Mumbo is married first to his commitment to the bit. Specifically the part of the bit where Martyn spontaneously announced they're married and no one else knows what's going on. It's a secret; a gag; a hidden easter egg. Mumbo's not going to play it up in front of people lest he break unspoken rules or be embarrassing. Mumbo keeps flitting around while Martyn dogs his heels with the first-aid kit like "?? Why is he not playing with me?"

Mumbo never denies the marriage or rejects it it any way. He pretty much just asked Martyn "Are we friends?" and Martyn told him "We're married" and Mumbo was like "Oh, okay" and went skipping off again. Mumbo doesn't even dispute it, he just thinks it's hilarious and satellites around Martyn for a while because he makes him laugh.

The marriage bit survives only as long as Mumbo's entertained and Martyn's willing to overlook how little he's getting back. Mumbo contributes nothing but puns and attempted murder.

I've never seen such a peculiar dynamic... Like, possibly unrequited love but also happily married for easy access to jokes and laughter?? One husband trying to keep this marriage together while the other is like "I am silly and have no thoughts except how much I want to blow you up, please it would be funny." incredible, no notes.

Martyn would stab himself to give a life to Mumbo, but if Mumbo had the power to kill Martyn in a snap of his fingers, he would. but also he loves him because Martyn's silly and killed too many chickens and covered up a horse theft. It's like if a god kept a mortal around for offerings and entertainment. you get me.

[zombiemollusk]

so i wanna talk about merna

merna was a little caterpillar kid who hatched from an egg, so named due to being the child of jana and mertreon; this naming convention becomes important later.

incidentally, jana would later request to be my spouse, to which i agreed because why not, i'll marry almost anyone who asks me in this game, but in any case, this made merna my stepkid.

i raised the baby with love, etc. etc., got them up to rank ten, and eventually...

...they became my first disciple, and so far the only one who's asked (the others i picked).

they were uh. very dedicated.

anyway, all's going hunky dory, when one day an incredible development happened:

i didn't know followers could fall in love with each other at all (as opposed to just falling for me) until this happened, and i certainly didn't expect it to be my stepkid with my pet cat narinder.

i decided this opportunity was too good to waste, so...

...and then...

...voilà, weird lumpy baby!

remember what i said about my method for naming babies? well, guess what.

that's right, the one who waits had a baby and i named it merder.

side note, merder would go on to be the first of my followers to request that i, you guessed it...

...fucking murder someone. yeah, that's nari's kid alright, and i named them well.

anyway, back to the- what's this?

merna has fallen in love with leshy! well, i'm not about to claim full monopoly on polyamory (i feel like there's a pun in there), and the first baby was so cute, so i had them make an egg as well.

before i continue, here's leshy graciously thanking me for getting him laid:

anyway, mershy was born.

so after tha- huh?

well.

unfortunately i didn't get screenshots of the next two, but in summary:

that's right, everyone: my stepkid and disciple, merna, successfully turned the entire bishop pantheon into their harem.

and as i'm not one to waste an opportunity like this, i'd like to introduce you all to...

...my collection of weird lumpy stepgrandchildren (plus merna wearing a lovely hat there).

and yes, i made them all disciples.

they would go on to have romantic adventures of their own, many of which being with their aunt/uncles/whatever-the-gender-neutral-word-for-those-is to my increasing horror, disgust, and endless amusement; mershy asked me, their stepgrandparent, for my hand in marriage once (i turned them down; i did say almost anyone; definitely not my own grandkid, blood-related or not); mermar did not ask for my hand in marriage but did ask for a wedding dress and a wedding suit to wear (the game wouldn't let me without marrying them so i didn't do that either, though weirdly enough they spoke as if i made the dress when they requested the suit), and merder became lovers and had a child with a follower who asked me to kill someone as a prank, because of course that's merder's type. but sadly this post is running out of space for images so i won't be posting pics of all that, and this post is about merna anyway.

now, i can't say they're perfect in love...

...or as a parent...

...but i still couldn't ask for a better, more memorable first disciple of the game.

here's to you, merna. please keep being you for as long as i play the specific save file in which you reside. 💖

[autumnmist101]

Random Individual Hermit Head-cannons

Xisuma: Voidwalker

Keeps pictures of his favorite moments from each of the hermits' first seasons.

Void searched for Pearl and Jimmy specifically. Did this right after Grian explained his backstory and that he didn’t know if his siblings were alive.

Adopted both Mumbo and False in season two, but at separate times. They don't talk about it much though. ______________________________________________________________

VintageBeef: Cow hybrid

Makes the best deviled eggs anyone has ever tasted. ______________________________________________________________

Mumbo: Had a phase where he was a bunny hybrid (have a shpeel about it but that's too long for this post)

Would wear a fake mustache when he was too young to grow one. (The others found it adorable)

Second person to find out about Grian's backstory

Writes letters to Iskall while he's away doing Vault Hunters even though he knows he won't write back. ______________________________________________________________

Iskall: Man raised by villagers (I've heard this was popular hc/cannon)

Misses Architect and kept a picture of the potato Grian threw into it.

Hums the Dragon bros song while doing redstone

Reads every letter Mumbo writes to him while at Vault Hunters

Spent two days eating ice cream in bed when Joel dumped him (Stress dragged him out of it and made him do work) ______________________________________________________________

Gem: Hybrid forms: Tropical fish/sea creature, Fox, Deer, Elf

Confronted/nearly killed Scott during an Empires' meeting after hearing that he abandoned Pearl in DL.

Can't use chopsticks. Makes them shish-kabob sticks instead.

Loves ice-skating dates (platonic) with Pearl.

If she can't plays at least one T-Swift song on a road trip. Then she's the only artist the car gets to listen to when heading back home.

Protective as heck when she finds out someone's sick. (Nurse mod Gem activates)

Harder punches mean more love, and Gem is, according to many, a 'very affectionate' hermit. >:D

Twin of Fwhip, sister of Sausage. ______________________________________________________________

Bdubs: Hybrids- Bug, Glare, Horse

Can NOT have energy drink. Will be constantly building, and answering anything via screaming. Not to mention, won't be able to shreep. ______________________________________________________________

Scar: Hybrid forms: Vex and Cat.

Has a chewing necklace he loses constantly

An amazing cook despite the kitchen being on fire.

Has wheelchair and cane accessories from his friends. ie. wheelchair handle spikes from Gem, heated Star Wars themed cane handle from Grian.

Bursts into Disney songs at ANY reference he hears.

Jellie trained Katy Bee to carry a mini first aid box on her collar for Scar. ______________________________________________________________

Tango: Blaze-born

Raised by phoenixes.

Left home to be on his own. The portal he took to the overworld put him in a snow biome. Nearly froze before Zedaph found him.

Can actually hover, but usually forgets about the ability.

When needing in a tight space, will create a whisp of fire that he will then possess to fly into that space.

Cried for at least an hour whenever a Ravager died in DO2.

Freaked out when Pearl first tried to eat a red-stone torch and immediately taught her red-stone safety, as well as started using it. (Wants to be a good influence <3)

Still believes in Santa

Can play just about anything on kazoo.

Will NOT play Star Wars or Disney songs on the kazoo. ______________________________________________________________

Zedaph: Sheep hybrid.

Big Chappell Roan fan

Sunburns easily

Kicked out of a cult of lambs due to constantly calling the god they worshipped "Waiter" instead of "The one who waits".

Found Tango half frozen on a mountain. ______________________________________________________________

Impulse: Cast out from the nether realm for befriending too many humans.

Organizer of the Hermit Parent Club. Usually plans out field trips, pun offs, and when it's bring your kid to the server day.

Still has his first soup bowl of season 9.

Was standing right beside the cactus Skizz fell in when he was kicked out of heaven.

Helping Skizz out- "I'm an imp. My name's Impulse. What's your name, man?" ______________________________________________________________

Skizz: When meeting Impulse- "Mine's Skizzleman! I'm an Angel!"

Knew Impulse would be his best friend after that moment.

Can do a great Doodlebob impression

Cast out of heaven for being bad at making things. Not just alive things. All things.

The last straw for them was when he tried to make a Tasmanian devil. He did not know what a Tasmanian devil was. . . . He still does not know what a Tasmanian devil is.

When cast out was purposely thrown onto a cactus where he was found by Impulse. (They really didn't like his last creation) ______________________________________________________________

Joel: Hybrid forms- Wolf, Red Panda

Definitely NOT nervous around needles. Only babies, and Jimmy, are nervous around those.

Wears his Mazelean crown when he misses his friends in empires.

Constantly writes to Lizzie in whatever server she's on. Also keeps a small bottle of her perfume on his bedside table.

Can feel when another Life game is coming. (Sixth sense almost)

Has a dart board with Scott's face on it that he, and sometimes Pearl, use to prepare for the next games.

NOT scared of giant birds or any birds for that matter. That's for losers. And DIDN'T scream when he first saw Jimmy's canary wings. ______________________________________________________________

False: Eagle avian

Enjoys hunting rabbits/Joel in her free time.

Teases Mumbo about his crush on Hot Guy.

Has won countless rap battles

Can, in fact, smell fear ______________________________________________________________

Etho: Sings Barbie girl in the shower

Carries tools on him at all times

Keeps a Big Bro <3 bracelet from Gem in his vest pocket ______________________________________________________________

That's all for now. I have others; however, they were too long to be included in this post. I do intend to expand/story-fy a couple of these ones though, hopefully in the near future. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! <3

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[ataraxiaspainting]

Russian Roulette.

Yan L x GN Reader.

Synopsis: You decide to test your luck while it still lasts, as small as it is. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, past stalking, kidnapping, and manipulation.

Word Count: 1.1k.

*~*~*~*

“Hmm… why do you want me to do that, exactly?” The response is much longer than a simple okay or sure or no, but the question was what you expected to be in the realm of absolute possibility. You have given L too little credit in the past, when you first woke up here, thinking that he can shut himself up and go back to whatever he usually does, like eating cake or watching the same footage of you in your home for the tenth time that week. 

You can work with this.

“It’s not like you have given me much else to do.” You say, not biting your tongue this time around, the bitterness in your voice coinciding with the box of sour fruit gummies on the other side of the table, with the artificial sweetness in L’s tone. “Plus if you want to treat me as well as you say you want to, you would oblige the simple request of playing a game with your favorite captive.”

His eyebrow raises at the last word that slipped out of your mouth, not out of guilt or shame or fear that your reality has punched him straight in the face, but out of just… curiosity.

“What if I don’t?” He smirks, looking up at you. “You did just rudely rush in here stomping and making demands… not exactly the behavior I would think of when I hear the word captive.”

“I’m going insane.” You say, glaring down at him, your fists curled so deeply into your pajama pants that you swore that they would break. 

He chuckles, and it feels like the messy hair covering your angry face has just gotten even more disheveled. 

“I jest, I jest… fine… I’ll play with my favorite captive.”

It feels like this weight has just been lifted off of your head, but the one in your heart remains.

“No need to be so… tangled up.” He says the pun naturally, popping in a few more pieces of the neon candy. 

You start grumbling curses under your breath as if he did reject your proposal. He didn’t though. He didn’t, so you’ll play by his much longer game for a bit more before you struggle yet again.

“Not funny.”

There are only six pieces of candy left in the yellow box, each one a different color.

“What are you waiting for?” He asks, slouching forward instead of backward this time around and crossing his legs. “Go get your… game.”

You scoff and race off to L’s bedroom, putting your knees next to the mattress that is on the opposite side of L’s bed. Under your pillow are the six red plastic cups you stole from the cupboard last night, along with a chocolate egg still in its packaging, something you got from L after threatening to jump on your mattress until the few trinkets he got for you would fall on the floor and break. You won for once, in the end, but that condescending look he had while giving it to you makes you want to kick him in the groin again. 

It is the same look he has when you return to him, tail tucked between your legs as you set up the cups and the chocolate egg on the table. The box of candy is empty now. How in the hell does he not get so many cavities?

“Alright then, explain the rules.” He raises his arms to the ceiling and yawns loudly, obnoxiously. 

You sit down on the opposite side of the table. Your posture is much more restrained than his, he notes. Your hands are on your lap and your back is straight. You still don’t know how to relax. A symptom of being raised in high society.

“It’s a game I used to play with the younger servants when I was little.” You explain. Thinking of the past brings back unwanted feelings, but thinking of the present does the same. You have never experienced true freedom, but at least here you can speak your mind and your emotions. God, maybe you are going insane, being… thankful to him, your captor. “Someone guesses which cup has the object underneath. If they win, they get to ask a question to the person who scrambled the cups. If they lose, the person who scrambled the cups gets to ask the question.”

The image of a smaller you playing with porcelain cups and a ring, perhaps your mother’s, as the servants look confused makes L laugh softly. How cute.

“I’ll go first.” You insist, putting the chocolate egg under one of the cups and swiftly moving them around. “Okay. Go on. Don’t take your time.”

“Alright.”

L’s pointed finger moves slowly to the cup in the middle.

“If I remember correctly, it is this one, isn’t it?” He asks. “Right?”

That smile of yours makes choosing the wrong cup on purpose makes it worth it in L’s eyes. 

“Nope.” You lift the one farthest to L’s left and your right. The chocolate egg is there, untouched.

He doesn’t pretend to be surprised, instead still smiling. You do the same, albeit unknowingly.

“Alright, my turn now.” You didn’t even get to ask him a question, but you are too deep in your pride to care about it right now. You won against L for once. You’re proud. It’s cute.

One by one, you slide the cups and the chocolate egg over. You’re confident, it would appear. 

How cute.

He puts one cup over the chocolate egg and moves all of them around, much faster than you did your turn. Your eyebrows furrow as you try to concentrate. 

He stops moving them, and it feels like the weight on your heart becomes even heavier.

Your pointer finger shakes as you move it to the cup in the center, silent.

L shakes his head.

“Nope.” He says, the word mocking yours.

His right elbow rests on the corner of the table, his palm cradling his chin as he looks on, to the shakingness of your breath, to the way your folded hands tremble. 

The air feels thick, and you don’t even know why. Or do you?

“You already know what I am going to ask you, aren’t you?” The question is longer than anticipated. 

“N-No.” You stutter.

“Oh?” The sound feels like a stab to the heart or a punch in the face. “That’s fine, I guess.”

He leans in. Closer and closer. You back away, but not enough to not smell how sugary his breath is. 

“There is a knife missing from the knife drawer. Where is it?” 

You didn’t win against L, you say to yourself. He won.

“...Underneath my pillow.”

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 7

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 7 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Rosie had arranged for Hal to escort you across town for the event.  

“You'd be an easy target, all gussied up and fancy looking,” she'd explained.  “And Alastor is nothing if not a gentleman.  He'll see ya’ home safe.”

So Hal had put on a bow tie and his least blood stained trousers and the two of you had set off towards the Hazbin Hotel.  It took longer than expected thanks to your heels making the pitted sidewalks an absolute terror to negotiate, but a good number of people were still entering the hotel by the time you arrived.  

“Ya’ got knives on ya?’” Hal grumbled.  

“I've got two in my purse, one strapped to my leg, and Ms. Rosie leant me her sharpest hat pin,” you say, reaching up to fiddle with the accessory in question.  

“Attagirl,” Hal says, squeezing the arm laced through his in approval as you passed through the gates and meandered along the cobblestone driveway.  Hal prattled on as you drew closer to the entrance, seemingly overflowing with paternal advice, but it was hard to focus on his words over the thundering of your heartbeat in your chest.

“- and a kick to the pussy hurts just as much as a kick to the dick.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmured distractedly, reaching into your beaded pearl clutch to pull out the invitation with shaking hands.  

You handed it to the doorman, some sort of egg-like creature with a large chunk of shell missing from the top of its head, providing a clear view of a pulsating yolk where its brain should be.  The egg man called out your name to the uncracked egg beside him, who scribbled on a clipboard wildly before shooting you a dopey smile and thumbs up.

“Don't stay out too late,” Hal said gruffly, patting your hand reassuringly as he released your arm.  “You're opening tomorrow.”

Alone for the first time since the sun came up, you decided to linger in the lobby of the hotel for a bit before following the garishly flashing signs directing visitors to the rear garden.  

With as deep a breath as your girdle would allow, you grasped the back of a wing back chair and gave yourself permission to panic, hoping that briefly indulging your baser instincts would clear your mind enough to stay focused on the task of surviving an entire afternoon on the Radio Demon's arm.  

A few minutes and an uncountable amount of breaths later, you felt the knot in your chest loosen and heartbeat slow to an acceptable rate; still fast, but as good as your were likely to get walking into an event that would likely draw out some of the most powerful demons the Pride Ring had to offer.  

“Whatcha doin’ in here, toots?”

Adrenaline crashes through your veins, undoing all of progress you'd made in centering yourself as you spin to face the man addressing you.  You recognized him, of course.  Not because you'd personally watched any of his many works, but because of the plethora of billboards bearing his face and other, more delicate parts, that loomed tall over every corner of the city.  

“The garden party is, y'know, in the garden,” Angel Dust said, tone acerbic as he rested a full watering can on a jutting hip.  “So what're sneaking around her for?”

“I'm not sneaking,” you rush to defend yourself, fiddling with the cuff of your sleeve nervously.  “I'm just… lurking.”

“Ain't too sure there's much of a difference between the two.”

“Sneaking implies some sort of underlying mischief.  I assure you that I'm simply waiting here.”

“Oh?  And what're you waiting for?” Angel Dust asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he crossed one set of arms across his chest.

“An excuse to leave,” you say dryly, casting a wary glance out the open double doors leading out to the patio.  Something about your response seemed to set Angel Dust at ease, because the next time you looked at him he was smirking down at you, suddenly more amused than distrustful. 

“You and me both, girlie,” he snorted, unfolding his multitude of hands to smooth down nonexistent creases in his floral halter top and leather hot pants.  “I can't stand all this hoity-toity bullshit.  It's exhausting playing nice with folks who wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire.”

“I think I'd rather burn anyway,” you said, wrinkling your nose distastefully at the thought.

“No promises, but I'll keep your preferences in mind,” Angel Dust snorted, beckoning you down the hallway with a wave of his willowy arm.  “Why don't you come outside with me?  I'll show you the best parts of the garden- all the ones I planted, of course.”

The gardens at the Hazbin Hotel could be generously described as eclectic; an absolutely miss-matched and uncoordinated array of plants that honestly had no business being in the same hemisphere as each other, let alone the same garden bed. 

“Charlie had the grand idea of givin’ everyone their own chunka’ land to cultivate,” Angel explained, pointing at various sections of the garden.  “Husky put in the lemon tree so he can have fruit to stock the bar with and all the goddamn mint that won't stay where it fucking belongs!”

A surly looking catman casually flipped off Angel as you passed by, likely the one responsible for unleashing the minty scourge if Angel Dust's playful sneer was anything to go by.  

“Satan below, I love that man,” Angel sighed, grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing waiter's tray before continuing down the rough cobblestone path. “Anyway , all these pretty blossoms belong to moi-”

You nodded in sincere appreciation.  “They're absolutely gorgeous.”

“Course they are!  They take after their daddy,” Angel Dust cooed, blowing kisses at a cluster of puffy white chrysanthemums.  

“I didn't know Earth flowers could even grow down here,” you murmured quietly, struck nearly breathless by the beauty of the blossoms.

“They can't.  Not naturally, anyway,” Angel explained, flicking an aphid off the petal of a perfectly symmetrical dahlia.  “But having Lucifer constantly hangin’ around definitely comes with some perks.”

“I didn't think I'd ever get to see them again,” you whispered, blinking rapidly to banish the tears welling in your eyes, frustrated at how they made your vision blur when you wanted to remember everything with sharp, crystal clarity. 

“It's like seein’ an old friend again, innit?” Angel smiled knowingly, having gone through a similar experience when the scraggly stalks he'd obsessively tended had sent out their first, tentative buds.  “Now, c'mon.  You gotta see the rest of this place.  Shit starts gettin’ fuckin’ bizarre.”

‘Fucking bizarre’ didn't even scratch the surface of describing the rest of the garden tour.  Your next stop was Princess Charlotte’s sad plot of withered and wilted plants. 

“She bought every half-dead plant at the nursery.  Thought she could rehabilitate ‘em,” Angel had explained with a long suffering sigh. “I don't wanna talk about the symbolic implications of that, if ya’ don't mind.”

The next section was a barren stretch of land without a single plant.  Rising from the ground instead were hundreds of insects skewered on sharpened sticks; everything from tiny house flies on toothpicks to large horned beetles impaled on whittled down twigs. 

“Niffty,” Angel Dust had offered up with a helpless shrug, as though the single name provided any sort of reasonable explanation for the eerie tableau.  Deciding that you didn't actually want Angel Dust to expound on the situation, you simply nodded and continued on your way down the row.  

The air quickly soured as you left Niffty's sacrificial plot, the ground on either side of the path softening with every step; eventually shifting into a churning, fetid swamp.  The understated appeal of the shoulder high cattails and thick swaths of pillowy moss were lost on you, distracted as you were, by the thick cloud of gnats that swarmed the area. 

“Whose area is this?” You grumbled peevishly, swatting at the bugs flittering around your face. 

“Why, this area is my handiwork,” Alastor's familiar voice called out from behind you.  Both you and Angel Dust visibly stiffened at his sudden appearance, turning in unison to face the Overlord.  

“Alastor,” Angel Dust greeted flatly.  “What're you doin’ all the way out here?  Don't you have some rich schmuck to schmooze?”

“Always,” Alastor sighed dramatically.  “No rest for the wicked and all that.”

“You must never fuckin’ sleep then,” Angel groused, folding his many arms in front of himself defensively.  

Alastor ignored his barb and instead extended a hand out towards you, wiggling his fingers expectantly.  

“Come along now, dear.  I'm not sure how you managed to slip by me, but you've deprived me of your company long enough.”

“Wait a minute,” Angel bellowed incredulously, eyes impossibly wide as he watched you place your hand tentatively into Alastor's; his spindly fingers clamping around yours like a vice as he guided you closer to his side.  “You're Alastor's guest?”

“She's a fair bit more than that,” Alastor grinned, undeniably smug as he guided your small hand into the crook of his arm; turning his head to give you an unmistakable, pointed look.

The performance has begun.

Tag List:

For the first time ever I have been requested to create a tag list, so let me know if you want to be added!

@wendds @matpatsstuff @qardasngan

[syndrossi]

resonant ch33 dvd commentary

This was a problem child of a chapter as I tried to figure out the best path toward the next set of plot points, which, combined with the work months (Nov and Dec) from hell meant it ended up a bit late and thereby thwarted my hopes of breaking 200K words of Resonant by year's end, alas.

Favorite line(s):

“I want his head,” Daemon croaked, unable to calm the racing of his heart. “I want to swing the blade that cleaves it from his shoulders. Do not deny me this, I beg of you.”

SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE THIS MAN SOMEONE'S HEAD, HE DESERVES IT. Reyne's, Crayne's, Allard's...he's not picky right now.

Daemon glanced at the red on Viserys’s white-and-gold sleeve, still bright somehow despite being half-dried. How is it that you seek to spend my blood, brother?

The "blood to be spent" is one of my favorite of the candle's refrains to weave in, and it was fun to have a literal representation here.

[The sobs] were as quiet as they were heartbreaking, each wracking him violently, as though the pain of it were trying to bend him in half.

Anyone who's had a really intense cry knows exactly what that feeling is.

Rhaegar seemed to read his expression, and his arms tightened around Qelebrys briefly, as though apprehensive, before steeling his face and turning toward his brother. It was an impulse that was all too familiar to Daemon. He does not want his brother to think him weak.

You know it's bad when Daemon is seeing parallels with him and Viserys, rather than Aemon and Baelon.

Favorite Details

Daemon's victory

As someone pointed out in the AO3 comments, this is a rare occasion where Daemon outplayed Otto, who seemed to be expecting his leaked information about Daemon being seen visit Mysaria in Flea Bottom to result in far more dire consequences for him. He didn't realize that Daemon had been withholding information of his own.

(Granted, Daemon would gladly have continued to withhold the information about the bounty on his own head, had it not been useful in the confrontation.)

Redfort brothers

Sorry, @textbookchoices, I think you were envisioning something quite different when I promised Redfort content...

I don't know, just the utter heartbreak/tragedy that was the Redfort twins' lives in those early years, where they didn't understand why people behaved so strangely and why there were so many unspoken rules. And adoring their older half-brothers, only to be utterly crushed when they never returned, convinced it was their own fault for daring to impose/ask. (When the reality was that this was near the time when Raymar's dye started failing and Allard was eager for the Redfort brothers to halt their visits anyway...)

But also the vulnerability Rhaegar/Raymar was willing to show, and the love the Daemon met it with. Raymar got a lot of much-needed affirmation this chapter, as much of an unsettling rollercoaster of emotion as it was for Rhaegar. They both needed that, and with the stress/upset over the rift with Jon, they were due for a meltdown.

Valyrian histories

I like to imagine Aegon entertained his sons with stories like that of House Dewald (the name itself me making a bad German pun, since the holdfast was near the edge of the forest aka "der Wald"), and Aenys passed it on to Jaehaerys who passed it on to his sons and grandsons. So much of that purely oral history would have been lost in the Dance, with only the children surviving.

And the Valyrians love their stories of "why you should never try to steal dragon eggs, aka because we'll kill you really, really dead."

Dynamics

Daemon and Viserys

Not Viserys's best day ever, though he's not quite as clueless as he seems in giving Reyne an extension. (His reasoning is "I'll need a little time to get a replacement ready and minimize the harm during the transition if he truly is a traitor," hence the one week for Reyne to "prove" himself.)

If things go poorly (aka proof of treason is found), Reyne could very well lose his head!

But that's little comfort to Daemon, who continues to feel (rather fairly) that Viserys won't go beyond half-measures for him, while he'll bend over backward for everyone else.

@marmari33 had a very insightful ask on the topic of how Viserys acts when Daemon is on the verge of a breakdown (aka he's most willing to act the comforting big brother then), so I won't rehash it here, but that's another complicated piece of their dynamic.

At the end of the day, the problem is still that although you can't go around beheading everyone without proof, Viserys's touch is far too light given how serious the treason that was committed by House Royce (and Redfort) under House Arryn's stewardship. Viserys being willing to cede the negotiation ground to the Vale give them the home field advantage/the sense that he's willing to be lenient.

Rhaegar and Raymar

These two have been more integrated than Jon and Jon Redfort by a wide margin, but Rhaegar was feeling it this chapter. As mentioned above, he's eight-years-old and he's in a cold war with his brother who he idolizes and doesn't trust him, which hurts, so he's primed for a breakdown. The hair dye background, which is a particular pain point for Raymar, just opened the floodgates.

Those with a keen eye will notice that Jon has also been more affected by his counterpart of late, so there may be a ticking time bomb there to reckon with...

Quick hitters

It felt almost like a simulated D&D session, the events at the end of the chapter. There were about ten different things that could have happened instead, but this is what the dice (and Daemon) landed on.

It remains ambiguous just how much of Reyne's failure is incompetence, malice, or both.

Larys is back at the Red Keep now, btw...

What was Jon so cheerful about when he found them at the enclosure? We'll find out next chapter...

Daemon's violent outbursts are never not nerve-wracking for the poor Kingsguard. Granted, he's never harmed Viserys, but the sounds of a man breaking a chair by slamming it repeatedly into the ground are not gentle.

The one thing about Daemon's hunger for Allard's head is that it doesn't take into account what the boys might want.

How did Reyne come to know of Daemon's visit? He only showed his face to the woman at the "front desk" so to speak of the establishment, and Mysaria herself. Is Mysaria still informing on Daemon to Otto for a price? Does that still make sense, given the promised rewards from Daemon? Or is it another source?

Daemon's anger tends to have an insulating effect against the candle, while despair/grief make him susceptible, and we see both sides of that coin in this chapter. Though it also remains an open question of whether there is always a warlock "manning" the candle, or if it has any passive effects.

Daemon remains best dad when it comes to finding ways to cheer up his sons. Plotting the perfect flight path to find some natural beauty for Rhaegar followed by interesting ruins of a military defeat for Jon.

The saddle refitting is complete, meaning the boys can take a field trip at any given moment...

Cut scenes/moments

“If I tell you of my own troubles with my brother, will you tell me of yours?” Daemon asked. His son’s grip tightened on the cup, then slackened. “It is nothing.”

The scene was already pretty long, and it didn't feel the right time/moment to veer into the Rhaegar-Jon conflict.

That was the provence of Allard Royce, for those years of cruelty. Lorent Reyne, for dismissing the whispers from the Vale that would have united Daemon with his sons years before. Rhea Royce, for devising such a heartless scheme, and the Redforts for aiding her in it. I will see them all burn.

Just a little extra seething from Daemon that I ended up cutting. I think it's pretty well understood within the chapter that Daemon is hungry for blood/revenge.

“He does not trust me. He thinks that I am weak.” “I am certain that is not so,” Daemon said. Rhaegar’s shrug was listless. “I understand why he believes it to be true. He is able to resist the candle, where I have failed. I was the one foolish enough to drink the cider at the Saltpans and be taken. When we were captive, he challenged Crayne and I—I feared him.” His voice grew thicker with upset, each word escaping him quickly than the last, until he was stumbling over them at the end. Daemon pulled him onto his lap, resting his chin atop his hair as he held him. “You are a child. You are allowed to be frightened.” Rhaegar twisted free, springing to his feet with fists balled tight. “Jon isn’t. He is never frightened. He thinks that he must keep me safe, whatever the cost to himself.” “I am your father. That is my duty.” Daemon caught one of his small fists, clasping it between his hands. “I will keep you safe, both of you.” His son regarded him with a solemn expression that pierced his heart. Aemon. “You will not always be there to protect us.” The chill of winter gripped Daemon suddenly, bitter and harsh in his lungs. The crimson of his blood on Viserys’s white sleeve swam before his eyes, only it was snow he saw now, stained with lifesblood, more than a body could spare. “Do not say that,” he whispered, heart seizing.

A little more of the Rhaegar-Jon conflict that I was a bit sad to see go because of the "blood to be spent" imagery melding with the Wall vision.

And there's one more cut scene (the longest) I'm holding onto in case it's relevant next chapter. If not, I'll share it in that DVD commentary!

[isa-ghost]

do u have death family headcanons....

NO FUCKING MAMES I HAD 14 OUT OF 15 DONE FOR THIS ASK AND THEN TUMBLR YEETED THEM. I'M GONNA SCREAM AND COMMIT MURDER, IDR THEM ALL. FUCK.

ANYWAY YOU BET YOUR GAY ASS I HAVE DEATH FAMILY HCS.

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Family walks, Chayanne on Phil's shoulders and Lullah on Missa's. Or they do that thing where there's one kid between them and they take either hand and lift/swing them together.

Family gardening. Missa using his reaper scythe to harvest things, Chayanne and Lullah replanting seeds, Phil going full crow brain and hoarding all the harvested crops in crates.

The kids are Phil & Missa's biggest wingmen. Lullah will lead them somewhere and then be like "Oh. Oh nooo, oh noooo my asthmaaaa" and teleport away. And then suddenly there's Chayanne with a table for 2 and an entire kitchen setup with a dinner in progress.

They'll plot "relaxation" days for Phil and Missa too. It's a toss-up if either of them actually relax though. Missa's better at it than Phil at least.

No one cheered harder about the prison kisses than Chayanne and Lullah. They wish their dads a very "do it again. Often."

Phil and Missa are constantly conspiring together about cool things to do with/for the kids. Even when they're away from each other they'll write books leaving the other a message like "shhh don't tell the kids :)"

They'll also plan days Just for one of the kids where whatever the family does is centered around their interests. It's nice for them, because although they have mutual interests and are more than willing to do whatever the other wants, they still have unique interests and it can naturally get tiring being a package deal. Especially when so many of the other eggs are only children and get doted on by their parents with undivided attention

They get separation sadness a lot bc reaper duties and Phil's extremely deep sleep/vivid dreams keep them apart so often, but their little system of leaving gifts (Missa his paintings, Phil misc trinkets) for each other works. It's not as good as a hug or quality time though :(

Everyone's passing each other's accents to one another. Missa finds himself slipping up saying "bewk" (book) or some shit, meanwhile Phil keeps saying stuff with a Spanish accent because of Missa and Lullah and everyone keeps adopting German words into their vocabulary because of Chayanne.

Phil and Missa are both good at pvp, they love sparring with each other and teaching the kids. Chayanne is way more into it than Lullah, but Lullah loves to learn regardless, and she loves hearing Phil infodump about strategy and timing and whatnot.

Missa and the kids will team up and get Phil on one of his Philzaing rants. They'll be like "what do you MEAN you couldn't physically carry all three of us on a flight? :(" and there Phil goes, raving about how weight matters with flying and safety and blah blah blah. And he KNOWS they're getting a rise out of him most of the time. Yet he falls for it every time.

One day,, one day we'll get a 4/4 family build project,,, They want to do it do bad,, So far it's just been 3/4 make it and the 4th is delighted to be shown it by the kids whenever they're around again. (August 2024 Edit: KILLS MYSELF)

Phil and the kids have started half-purposely obtaining as many birds as they have bc it's funny to see Missa come back from reaper duties to MORE birds that he just has to accept live there now.

The kids love Phil's crow murder to death (pun intended) and are used to interacting with them. Missa not so much. Which has made for countless funny moments. He's still bewildered that they're so attuned to throwing something shiny at him and then aggressively cawing. He doesn't understand them like Phil can.

Something something the four of them having a seance together where Lullah taps into her medium abilities to communicate with Kristin bc Goddess of Death is part of the Death Family. She loves to tease Missa (usually about Phil) and she ADORES the kids.

[calciumdeficientt]

Hey, Bif headcanons *slides a 503737494 dollar note* keep the change man

Gee thanks! I can’t wait to *checks smudged writing on hand* buy aguaburdy with this!

BIF TAYLOR HEADCANONS

Bif Bif he’s our man he’s our man who… cannot tan. It’s really sad, all the other preps can lounge freely in the sun and get various levels of luxurious tan while Bif… he just burns. If he doesnt apply countless coats of factor 50 suncream every hour or so he will go from milky white, to red, and then to blistered. There is no tan to be seen. Under the right conditions he does develop a smattering of cute little freckles but he never actually tans.

Bif prides himself on his boxing, in fact for a long while he put all his eggs in one basket and focused purely on the noble art. But he also plays a mean game of basketball, given his imposing stature. He doesn’t play often because there’s little to no preps that would even consider touching a basketball, let alone playing with it. He’s been told its improper for him to play more modern sports like basketball, so he doesnt bother with it much. He can only thrash Justin in a shootout so much before he actually feels bad for the guy.

He has to get all his pants tailor made. Not even out of a desire for them to be bespoke, they’ve got perfectly decent pairs of trousers at aquaberry, its more out of necessity. Bif’s height is oddly distributed, he’s got far more leg than torso, so most pants in his waist size when pulled up become capris. He had growth spurt after growth spurt as a kid so he’s no stranger to having things tailored (if you’ll excuse the pun), but now he’s a little older he does feel mildly left out when the other guys go out to buy their schoolwear and he can only purchase the top half of all his outfits.

Bif has a frequent flier card for rhinoplasty, he’s had countless nose jobs but just can’t seem to stop getting pounded in the face and wasting another 10 grand of his father’s money. Between surgeries, Bif does his best to draw attention away from his nose, not that anyone can really see that high anyway. It’s usually crooked, often tilted to the left but dependent on who he was last fighting it can sometimes skew right.

Derby wont be seen with him until he gets his nose fixed AGAIN so Bryce takes over as right hand man and Bif can get some much needed rest. He’s a very tired young man, especially as he spends most of his time following Derby around like a lapdog. And from all the boxing too, he trains seven days a week, often for up to nine hours a day. All that and school is enough to tire anyone out.

He has a shrine of his own achievements in his room at Harrington house, he doesn’t need to keep them, they’re also displayed at glass jaw, where he spends most of his time anyway. But he feels he has to keep them in his room to remind him that he is not, in fact, a failure and has accomplished many great things. Hanging around a guy as effortlessly self assured as Derby Harrington puts a lot of pressure on you, this is doubled by the fact that Bif has been the title holder for so long, he can’t relax, he can’t seem sure of his position, or he’ll lose it.

Collector and documenter of all things rap, well maybe not all things but he has a catalogue of a good few artists. His interest is mostly in the rap scene of the late 80’s to early 90’s with artists like The Notorious BIG, Ice Cube, Eminem and MF Doom as staples of his collection. He wish the preps weren’t quite so snobby about music, Bif genuinely believes that if they just tried to listen to some of the artists that they might genuinely really enjoy it. It’s all just poetry… often, violent poetry. Like war poetry, y’know?

Bif all likes to collect watches, they’re so effortlessly classy to him, and they can really elevate an outfit. It’s not often he gets to wear his watches, he’s fighting and training so often that he sometimes forgets to put one on in the few hours he has spare before he’s back in the ring. But for special events like parties, galas and other such fancy gatherings, he takes a good amount of time (heheh get it) to search for the perfect timepiece to go with his suit. The one he wears most often is a white gold rolex that Derby bought him for. Christmas when he was a Freshman, a ‘welcome to bullworth’ gift, if you will. They’d been tots together but up until then no one had really ever taught him to appreciate watches in the way Derby had.

[lemon-natalia]

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 50

thirty minutes before the Emperor’s murder and i still have no idea who’s gonna do it or why

Commander Wake. the commander who is Gideon's mother. who is Awake, the Sleeper. Who is in Cytherea’s dead body. Cytherea being the one Gideon had a crush on. WHO IS BEING POSSESSED BY GIDEON’S DEAD MOTHER. WHO IS THE BOE LEADER, COMMANDER WAKE. i’m fucking speechless what is this

also she’s calling the Emperor ‘Gaius’, do they fucking know each other??

omfg her full name includes ‘Snap me back to reality oops there goes Gravity’ wtf. weirdly i feel like thats such a Gideon (Nav) name to have, except she’s taking it so seriously 

‘did the ten billion give you that too.’ ‘how many babies died in the bomb Gaius’ oh this guy really did cause the apocalypse somehow didn’t he, fuuuck

scratch the others, this is the most tense tea party there’s been so far

‘it’s all come out’ what in the world’s most dramatic intervention is this

COMMANDER WAKE ME UP INSIDE 

both Mercymorn and Augustine were conspiring with the BoE?? i didn’t see that coming, especially not Mercymorn

the eggs from the first message weren’t a metaphor????? they were literal goddamn eggs wtf

she was gonna kill said baby in order to enter the Locked Tomb, and nicknamed it the ‘Bomb’. um wow. why is everyone’s immediate plan in these books to jump straight to the baby murder. 

GIDEON (1.0) JUST KILLED HER?? again? can you even say you killed a ghost. what. what. i thought they were a thing what is going on. Gideon just saw her mother for the very first time in her life, talking about how she was planning to murder Gid as a baby, possessing the body of someone she had a crush on who also tried to kill her, get murdered. oh she’s gonna need so much counselling after this. 

speaking of, how the fuck did the relationship between Gideon 1.0 and Wake start, that feels very complicated 

and he thought the baby was his. key word being thought. not was. then who the fuck is the baby daddy. this whole shebang would make for a very entertaining episode of Dr Phil. or whatever tv shows it is that do dna tests, i don’t watch a lot of reality tv

i really didn’t think a conception story could get more fucked up than Harrow’s, but Gideon’s giving her a very strong run for her money

‘Hi, not fucking dead. I’m Dad’ YOU JUST FOUND OUT YOU HAVE A SECRET BABY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS. its been about a minute and he’s already cracking dad jokes. is making bad puns genetic in the Locked Tomb world or something, because that would say a lot about Gideon quite frankly 

i cannot believe the fact that these guys were in a threesome has been plot relevant two times over now

also Gideon is the fucking. daughter of the GOD of this world i guess. well there’s an explanation for why she’s so resistant to not dying then. if he wasn’t super dead, i think Silas’s reaction to this info would be so fucking funny

also. given Ianthe presumably doesn’t know about any of the details of Gideon’s birth, childhood, etc. she’s gotta be even more confused than Gideon right now

also also remember when i had that dream about the Locked Tomb? my subconscious is a prophet, apparently:

[ppeonppeonhan]

Stray Thoughts on My Stand-In Finale

I can't believe that after his accident, they told Ming over the phone that Joe died. Like, what was the urgency?

Yessss feed him! Oh how the tables have turned!!!

Why do these two look like they're wearing a couples outfit?

Ok, Sol's obsession with Joe makes more sense now. When they first met, he was trying not to get dickmatized by a potential golddigger only to discover too late that he was actually the sweetest, most selfless human alive.

It is very...dude of Ming and Sol to apologize to each other without actually saying sorry. But Sol basically conceding to him officially was very mature of him.

"I can feed myself." [Proceeds to wait for him to come back and feed him.] Lol

Thailand is the country with the most shooting stars.

I feel like I'm watching a shooting star: Ming apologizing is wild. I KNOW he's sorry. I get it. But man have we come a long way.

Somebody come whoop this rickety old man's ass.

OH MY GOD A GUN?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Ugh! NO! Don’t you dare make a solid defense for this old man. Come on!

Ok, fine...if my son suddenly became obsessed with another dude after surviving a depressive downward spiral after losing his ex, I can see why you'd be hesitant to approve yet another romance. But your methods are insane sir.

Sigh Joe out here making empty promises. Mr. I fall off cliffs and volunteer to be taken hostage can't be out here making promises.

Dad's going to pay off your debts as a baby shower gift?! MAKE HIM WORK IT OFF.

Ok so he only wanted a divorce to protect her -- he's still shiesty. The father should've threatened Tong with a gun instead of Joe.

El oh El to Ming swallowing hard when his brother asked Jim to give him a ride. As a sibling, I too would've barfed in my mouth.

Joe is such a good egg with so much integrity. Love that he demanded to audition for the role Ming stole from Tong.

Sol was a real one for admitting he wants to leave so he doesn't have to watch them be together. I would've sent a text from the airport.

A convertible? How much do they pay makeup artists in Thailand?

Me, watching Joe's mom telling him she's getting a kidney AFTER he joins a wealthy family: 🤔 Legally?

I swear if it's not 50 degrees when I get to Thailand -- out here wearing jackets indoors during dinner.

The whole dinner scene with Ming's mom at their place was adorable -- especially them both teasing and praising Ming for his cooking.

It must be SO hard to constantly be compared to your original self, and not get to say, "It me! I'm right here."

I can't believe this clown asked him to renew the contract. Propose marriage. Offer a different contract. Stop reminding us you're crazy.

I really enjoyed this entire series -- from start to finish -- in spite of its MANY problematic scenes.

What a ride. Pun intended.

[sillylittleguytm]

Nice to be Kneaded

Terzo x gn!reader

Warnings: Very slight suggestiveness at the end (for comedic purposes), the title is a stupid pun

Word Count: 808

Love from Your Papas Day 2: Baking with Terzo

A groan could be heard from just outside the kitchen accompanied by the soft flop of fabric hitting the counter– your white hand towel soiled with egg and flour. You were literally and metaphorically throwing in the towel, exasperated by your extensive baking tasks. Time seems to have flown by, your entire day spent in the kitchen, but the end wasn’t as close as you would like it to be. You curse yourself for making so many commitments. Offering friends and family the gift of baked goods seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it was overwhelming.

“Now, what did that mixer do to you, tesoro?” The voice snaps you out of your rage induced stare-off with the standing mixer in front of you. You laugh weakly thinking about how crazy you probably looked. You turn your head to look at your beloved Terzo. His presence could almost distract you from your distress. Almost.

“It's too much, Terzo. I thought I could handle this but it's just so overwhelming and-” Just as frustrated tears form in your eyes, Terzo steps forward and places his hands on your shoulders. He looks deeply and lovingly into your eyes.

“Breathe, alright? It's baking, it's a hobby. Don't stress yourself out over it. It's supposed to be fun.” Terzo says softly, attempting to lift your spirits. You bite your trembling bottom lip and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. His hands soothingly rub your shoulders as you take a moment to collect yourself. He's right, you shouldn't be so stressed over what's supposed to be a source of joy for you. 

“I know. I just made too many promises and I don't know how to keep them without overextending myself.” You say with a sigh. Terzo offers a sympathetic smile, his hands coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

“Then allow me to help.” Terzo offers. Immediately, you smile and shake your head. Terzo is the worst baker you know. He is an excellent chef and he would often cook nice, special meals for the both of you, but unfortunately, those skills do not translate into baking. He's not one for exact measurements, so his desserts often come out in odd shapes and textures that you weren't aware were even possible to achieve. Those abominations were enough to convince him to leave the baking up to you.

“While I appreciate the offer, I want these cookies to be edible.” You say with a laugh. Terzo returns your amused look. He kisses your cheek before sliding his hands down your arms to hold yours. 

“Then I shall be your emotional support.” He offers. You sigh and take a look at the kitchen. Two more types of cookies have to be made, and you think you just might manage with him by your side. You pull him into an embrace– a thank you for always being there. Terzo hums in appreciation, returning your tight embrace.

Soon after you separate, you head right back to work. Terzo acts as a dutiful assistant, retrieving ingredients, measuring spoons, and managing your dishes so you could finish up even faster. For his own enjoyment, he steals tastes of dough from the bowl and the occasional peck from you. He sure does make the long hours in the kitchen more bearable. You decide to put on music to which he dramatically sings along to, causing you to roll your eyes even though you inwardly love to watch him keep himself entertained.

Eventually, all the dough is done being made. You look over at Terzo, who is divvying out dough into evenly sized balls onto cookie sheets so they could enter the oven. He takes care to be extra precise, fully aware of your level of perfectionism and trying to honor it to the best of his ability. Your heart flutters at his effort. Thankful wouldn't be a strong enough word to describe how you felt towards his efforts. You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Seriously, thank you so much for your help. I don't think I could have done this without you.” You say softly, placing gentle kisses to his temple. 

“It is nothing. You would do the same for me, no?” Terzo says, glancing up towards your face. You laugh and nod.

“If I saw you baking, I would usher you out of the kitchen.” Terzo lets out an exaggerated laugh before a deadpan expression falls over his face, making you laugh even harder. “Since you've been such a good helper, I think you deserve a reward.”

Terzo raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk gracing his lips. “Is that so, amore? You'd like to reward your Papa?” 

“Yes, I would. You get to taste-test these cookies.”

[goldenempyrean]

hello! love ur prompts. could u write something for natasha with "your sneezes are still adorable. just saying" and “why are you laughing at my misery?” in my hc she sneezes like a little kitten and all the avengers make fun of it hahah

Kitten Or Widow?

〚 Notes - Anon, your headcanon is just so cute! Hopefully this is sorta what you were imagining :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - The Avengers finally hear just how un-widow-like Nat can be. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 540 〛

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The room was filled with laughter, food and smiles all round as the Avengers sat in one of compound’s living rooms stuffing their faces with numerous different types of takeout. It had been a long week for everyone, and they all needed a break from their crime-fighting duties. Well, all except for Nat she’d spent most of the week inside (much to her annoyance) as she got over a cold.

The two of you shared a blanket as you sat huddled up on a sofa, giggling along with the constant jokes being cracked as you both sipped on a cold cider.

As the laughter and chatter continued, suddenly, Nat felt a tickle in her nose, and before she could reach for a tissue, she let out the cutest, most unexpected sneeze that sounded exactly like a tiny kitten. "Hh’shu!” Everyone turned their heads towards her in surprise, their eyes wide and jaws dropping before descending into more laughter.

Thor, known for his mighty warrior persona, burst out laughing with a thunderous voice that shook the room. "By Odin's beard! Nat, that was positively adorable!"

Even Tony Stark, who was usually quick with witty remarks, was left momentarily speechless, staring at Nat in amazement. Tony, ever quick to react, burst into laughter and exclaimed, "Nat, you've got to be kitten me right now! Did you just sneeze like a cat?"

There was a collective groan at his awful pun, “Oh shush, no I do not.” She defended, hiding her embarrassed flushed face into your shoulder.”

"I always knew Nat had a soft spot for animals, but this is taking it to a whole new level," Steve teased as he helped himself to another slice of pizza which earnt him a playful punch on the arm from Natasha.

Amidst the banter, you couldn't help but chime in with your own comment. "Well, I must say love, that sneeze was definitely purr-fectly adorable!"

Natasha rolled her eyes at your pun but couldn't suppress her smile. "Alright, enough with the cat puns, you guys. I'm still a deadly spy, you know," she said, feigning seriousness, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. The whole thing might’ve been dropped soon if only-

“Hh’iishu!”

Another sneeze erupted from Natasha, and this time it sounded even more like a little kitten, prompting another round of laughter from the Avengers.

"Oh, my goodness, Nat, you're just too cute!" Bruce Banner chuckled, trying to stifle his laughter.

"Why are you laughing at my misery?" Natasha said, half-jokingly, half-seriously, though her attempt at seriousness was undermined by the fact that she was still smiling.

"Sorry, Nat, but it's just too funny," Clint Barton said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye before getting up to grab himself another drink.

"You know," Vision chimed in, "I once observed a cat sneezing on the internet, and I must say, your rendition is remarkably accurate."

Natasha shot him a playful glare “I can still outmatch any of you, come on.” She said, holding up her fists in mock serious-ness before descending into laughter – maybe she’d had one too many drinks.

“Come on kitty, put away the claws.” You laughed as you kissed her cheek lightly, “"Your sneezes are still adorable though. Just saying.”

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[ruminiscence]

Paris: A Year Abroad in a short film

Audio: "Burnt Norton" by Lana Del Rey, a rendition of the original poem "Burnt Norton" by T.S. Eliot.

Where do I even start? Paris has wholly shaped me in ways I never imagined. We refer to Paris as the city of love, but I'm now more inclined to call it the city of art - which only leaves more room for love in your heart. There is so much to contemplate and appreciate in frequenting the vast array of art museums here - from the Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, Musée de l’Orangerie, the Centre Georges Pompidou, and many more. Not only has my perspective on art expanded, but so has my worldview. That’s because art is truly everywhere in this city; art can be found in the walkable streets amidst the rich architecture, the fashionable outfits seen in daily life, and even the exquisite decor in stores and when you cheekily peek into Parisian appartments!

There's always something new to discover in Paris, I'm almost saddened at the thought of the things I've yet to discover or missed. The treasures to unveil in Paris move far beyond the typical tourist hotspots we all know and love. I am obsessed with Parisian boutiques; they are chic and unique (that unintentionally rhymed) in the best way possible. One of my favourites is La Tonkinoise à Paris, located in the 11th arrondissement. This particular arrondissmenet is the best in Paris to be honest, it holds a special place in my heart as I had the wonderful opportunity of living there, so perhaps you can say that I am somewhat biased. Still, I can confidently say that this animated, hip and creative neighbourhood is one everyone should have the chance to explore.

La Tonkinoise à Paris, owned by the lovely Chantal, is my favourite hidden gem in Paris. I had the pleasure of befriending Chantal as I ended up frequenting her store one too many times; I've garnered quite a collection over time. This boutique offers a wide range of eccentric and sustainable jewellery, with her earring creations being the show stoppers, in my opinion. Her jewellery is composed of rings, pearls, brooches, charms, and watches, all unearthed in flea markets and recycled. I love that every piece of jewellery indeed is a unique piece. The decor changes based on the season and theme of her new collections, making it an ever-changing and exciting shopping experience. This is honestly the best jewellery store I have ever been to in my life! I wish the pictures I took could do the jewellery and the boutique's decor justice, but it simply won't, I'm afraid.

Now, onto food, I genuinely need to figure out where to start here. My favourite authentic French restaurant would have to be 'Le Potager du Père Thierry', located in Montmartre. Although it's incredibly small, I love the cosy vibe; I feel like I can enjoy delicious food with friends without feeling surrounded by strangers. Surprisingly, it's also very quiet (yet packed) - I guess the food is just too distracting.

As of late, my favourite non-french restaurant has to be 'Big Black Cook' (let's ignore how inappropriate that pun is, though funny). It's located in the 2nd arrondissement and serves Caribbean food, my friend claims that it was the best meat she's had!

For brunch, I recommend Café Méricourt in the 11th arrondissement. Their green Eggs & Feta are absolutely incredible and quite innovative as far as brunch places go.

As for a boulangerie - seriously, anywhere, literally anywhere in Paris, go to your nearest bakery; there need not be a big fuss - you're in for a scrumptious baked treat regardless!

I'm ever so grateful for the chance to have lived in Paris for an extended period; you cannot appreciate Paris in its entire splendour from a mere short-term visit. The city is an actual work of art; art is everywhere in the city, from the street performers and musicians, the light filters through the trees, the city's many architecturally rich bridges, the picturesque cafés and boulangeries, the beautifully presented food, the way that the city's many different neighbourhoods each have their own distinct character and vibe. In Paris, art is everywhere.

[2000sangel]

HELLOO you Definitely don't know me ;) ...but I'll still wish you luck for all the matchups <3

My name's Alexander, I go by they/them and at times he/him, I'm gay and on the ace spectrum!

I'm a pretty chill person that oscillates between too much energy and too little. I rely heavily on humor in most circumstances and I've been told I'm great at it (loads of dirty jokes, puns and absurd humor). I'm also good at improvising things as a theater and musical enjoyer. I'm a blend of emo, goth and punk, and enjoy the culture greatly. I'm very passionate about my interests, though not much confident in sharing them. I struggle with emotions a shit ton but I'm working on it!

A little (orange) birdie told me I could have both matchups, soooo. ;) I'd obviously prefer a male romantic matchup but I'm most open to either for platonic!

I love creating, mostly drawing and writing but it includes animating or sculpting and even playing piano/elec. guitar. I love chess and logic games/puzzles, as well as video games of all kinds (fantasy usually!). I also enjoy darker topics, since I'm quite fascinated by the human nature.

I love to hang out with friends, bake, watch shows, talk, etc, quality time is a big love language to me. I also like physical contact, as long as we're close!

I dislike physical activity, conflict of any kind, and loud noises/bright lights for too long. Another no are outright gore or some kind of horror (I have paranoia which can lead to a lot of anxiety.)

I don't exactly have an ideal type but they must be open-minded, ideally make me feel like they're interested in whatever I have to say, be willing to hang out and be honest!

Thank you for doing this, sending lots of love from the coolest bat in your area ;)

Hmm I wonder who this could be... ;3 As I was reading this I kept nodding to myself...like yes, very true, definitely! And it also reminded me of how intriguing of a person you are – not that I don’t think that all the time, of course.

Anyhow, enough of my silliness! Let’s move our focus on somebody else’s silliness, as I romantically match you with...

Lucifer!

Right off the bat I should mention that you and Lucifer share an interest which is creating; both of you spend the majority of your days bringing life to your little creations, so imagine how fun it would be to work together and show each other the fruits of your work at the end of each day! He is definitely enchanted by how many skills you possess, but his favorite thing is when you finish writing a story and you ask him to read it. He does so out loud, imitating the voices of each character and making you laugh by doing so. As he continues reading though, his tone shifts into a more serious one, a sincere smile remaining on his face. He doesn’t want you to think that he doesn’t take your work seriously, plus he’s genuinely fascinated by how easily you can bring to life the characters in your stories.

You love baking and he loves sweets, I couldn’t think of a better combo! Many a times you drag him into the kitchen and he follows diligently, ready to help and possibly make a bit of a mess as he’s not the most well versed in these kinds of activities. But! He definitely tries for you, passing you the ingredients as you carefully try to follow every step of the recipe correctly. He’s also a bit of a chatter box himself, so rest assured you will have a lot to talk about as you break eggs and mix the ingredients! He sometimes brings up how he misses doing these things with Charlie as well, and you kindly remind him that he’s free to invite her over to do this any time as you’ve grown quite fond of her as a friend.

Returning on the topic of Lucifer being quite talkative, he really appreciates how much your interests vary as this allows you two to have conversations about anything and everything. While I feel like some things he wouldn’t be into himself, such as video games, there’s nothing that he loves more than to listen to you excitedly talk about an interest that he’s not really familiar with, because this just means that there’s more things to learn directly from you. You of course have to do your part in listening to him talk about whatever he might be into but you’re not, though!

Lucifer adores the fact that you can play the piano and electric guitar, as he’s able to play some instruments himself! It’s not rare for you two to play together, making up songs between piano keys being pressed and bows being drawn across the strings of his fiddle. The little concerts last for hours, and they always end with you sharing a tired but satisfied kiss with each other.

If there’s something that Lucifer understands about you it’s your struggle with emotions; his own are a mess, especially seeing that he struggled with isolation and depression after he and Lilith separated, but also because his humour is generally a little unpredictable. After meeting you though he’s able to pace himself slightly as you inevitably bring joy into his life, and so he manages to be helpful in your times of need. At first he might push you a little to still spend time together even though you’re claiming you need space, but once he’s got you figured out he’s going to give you all the space that you need and let you come back to him at the end of the day, offering you a warm embrace by wrapping you up protectively with his wings. And then, with a little pun here and a light joke there, he’s going to get a smile out of you again.

Speaking of hugs, he absolutely adores them. Getting to be lazy with you and cuddling is one of his favorite activities,  as it also means not having to look after the obnoxious residents of Hell for a while. Rest assured he’s going to ask for five more minutes of cuddling with you every single morning, and if you don’t give them to him he’s definitely going to get pouty.

All things considered, Lucifer is glad he’s not alone anymore, instead he found great company in you and he appreciates all the love that you decide to show him in your unique ways. He’s of course more than willing to shower you in affection, and though he might go a little overboard sometimes, being a bit dramatic and all, you know he means well and you don’t get actually mad at him.

Platonic matchup

Now that you’ve gotten your lover, let’s move on to your platonic matchup!

Alastor!

First of all this came as a surprise to me as well, as Lucifer and Alastor don’t seem to get along very well, but allow me to demonstrate why you would get along with both!

Alastor values good manners, cordiality and intelligence a lot in others, which you all possess, in my opinion. He’s fascinated by your mannerisms just as much as you are by his, and admires the fact that you seem to have many skills. Some of them he might even take part in himself, such as playing chess and delving into darker topics. This would lead you to spending quite some time together, discussing such topics over a chess board.

The friendship between you and Alastor could be seen as unusual by most other people, but in reality it’s based on a very deep trust. You both trust each other to not cross boundaries; you don’t like physical touch from somebody who isn’t close? He’s going to respect that, he’s actually just the same. He’s not the biggest fan of sexual remarks? Sure, you’re going to be relying on other jokes, primarily puns as he seems to be a big enjoyer of those.

You and Alastor enjoy the occasional planned hang out with each other, usually opting for recitals and musicals as you both enjoy those a lot. You respect each other’s wish to quietly follow the play but at the end of it you’re very eager to have an open discussion about it.

Alastor, as the good friend that he is, also tries his best to take care of any kind of conflict that may arise while you’re together for you. Will you have to hold him back from doing anything too crazy? Sure, most of the time a little scare is enough...

He’s also pretty closed off with his own emotions, so a positive thing is that he’s never going to push you to talk about things, even in general. He does worry though, you’re his dear friend, and his way of showing it is by tolerating more than he would usually. May that be a short hug or whatever you might need from him to feel better, he’s willing to make an effort to provide it to you.

Hi! I hope you enjoyed; I made the platonic matchup a little bit shorter, I hope that’s alright, if not I can give you some more headcanons...I don’t mind at all! Tell me what you think, love you <3