#what is this letter

[and-corn]

shoutout to the "foolproof" bread recipe I fucked up entirely for inspiring this

[pokeberry5]

practice portraits

[ccomelantartidee]

“Too well tangled”🤍

[redlettermediathings]

[hinamie]

some quick jjk eye paintings

[thornrings]

My best friend's favorite number is nine.

[jadewritesficshere]

Steddie soulmate AU where Eddie is a famous musician, everyone assumes he doesn't have a soulmate. Eddie was just smart and doesn't confirm, doesn't want to go through rabid fans who claim to be his soulmate. He's had too many show up wearing his initials they tattooed on themselves even before he was asked about soulmates in an interview.

Enter Steve Harrington who works as a nurse. Just casually on his third nightshift in a row in the ER. Sipping some coffee trying not to fall asleep when they get the call about some confidential patient coming in.

Eddie comes in for some injury. Steve has 0 clue who he is, just says "You look familiar, did we go to school together?" And Eddie practically falls off the stretcher at Steve's feet. Goes all googoo eyes at him. Steve being mildly concerned because Eddie's heart rate keeps skyrocketing (its because Steve is touching him).

One of the other nurses can't help but try and get the gossip from Steve, who is very much confused as to why she cares about this random patient. She tells Steve who Eddie is, and he's just like ???? Okay???

Steve doesn't admit it but the picture she shows is HOT. It's Eddie, flipping off the camera, tongue out. He's covered in tattoos, including the word 'sorry' written in a weird script on his middle finger. He's shirtless and his pants are so low that Steve can see the dip of his hips creating a v and-

Steve has to walk into the supply room to get himself under control. Pretends it doesn't mean anything and goes back to his job as his heart thuds rapidly in his chest.

Eddie tries not to pass out when they draw his blood, Steve holds his hand. It feels right. Eddie can't help wanting to ask," Hey, do you have a soulmate?" But he hates being asked that question, so he won't.

Until Steve bends over, his scrub top lifting up slightly. Eddie can't help glancing at his ass, but then he can't breathe. Because on his lower back is the initials EJM.

"Steve G. H?" Eddie asks as his voice goes up an octave. Steve turns, bewildered ," How did you-?" "Edward James Munson." Eddie whispers.

Oh

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.

I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.

Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?

Jeeves

Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.

On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.

Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.

There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.

He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?

He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.

Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.

He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.

There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.

Bertie

Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.

In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.

He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.

I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).

I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.

When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.

[wasabi-gumdrop]

Kabru has a secret admirer in the castle!

[dykepaldi]

homestuck was so perfect for autistic teenagers bc it took characters being sorted into categories and having Attributes to its absolute extreme. forget four hogwarts houses, every character has their associated colour their zodiac sign their associated animal their dream planet their god tier class and aspect their typing quirk their pesterchum handle their weapon their planet of x and y, as well as each of them having a handful of other very quantifiable Personality Traits and Interests (e.g. this one is a clown this one is angry this one likes fashion this one is just rufio from hook for some reason) and THEN they all also have their respective ancestors and dancestors(?)(plucked that word from my memory) who have all of those things as WELL

and god not to mention the fucking quadrant system

as a 13-15 year old autistic kid i didnt even need homestuck to have a plot i just happily made a big big spreadsheet of character attributes in my brain

[drawing-in-teyvat]

Kinich Vision Story - part 1

Characters in Natlan are so casual when it comes to death. Kinich mentioned almost in passing that he died during the war, but this series of events was TRAUMATIC.

[ruhlare]

[forged-in-kaoss]

ONE PIECE FAN LETTER dir. Megumi Ishitani

[sunsburns]

i think ur oral fixation surprises both you and joaquin when you take his dog tags into ur mouth and suck on them. they're just dangling in your face how could you ever resist

oh my god?? my jaw is on the floor. this is insane. i love it. (18+)

it wasn’t like you could stop yourself.

you were already a little out of it—joaquín had been treating you too good all night. from dinner, where he played footsie with you under the table until your heel slid just a little too high, leaving him red-faced, to the way he kissed you against the door before you could even get your keys out. and now, after everything, after he’s had you gasping and writhing beneath him, you’re both wrecked and breathless, tangled together in the sheets, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his hips roll against yours.

it’s a sweet pace, a little sloppy, his rhythm faltering as his body trembles. he’s close. you can tell by the way his huffs turn into short, needy whines.

joaquín loves missionary, loves looking at you, touching you. but right now, his eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed tight as his fingers tangle in your hair, cupping your jaw like he can’t bear to let go.

every thrust rocks you against the mattress, the old frame creaking beneath you both. the headboard knocks against the wall in time with your moans, the wet, desperate sounds between you filling the room. and over it all, there’s the soft, steady clinking of his dog tags.

your gaze drops from his face to the chain hanging around his neck. the tags sway with every movement, catching the faint light from the window, gleaming silver against the tan of his chest. it’s distracting, the way they dangle just above your lips, taunting you. you don’t think—just act—lifting your head as he drives particularly deep, parting your lips so the tags graze your skin, clinking against your teeth before you take them fully into your mouth.

it takes joaquín exactly two seconds to notice.

the slight tug at his neck drags him forward, and his eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused at first until he sees—

oh.

a shudder wrecks through him, his hips stuttering to a halt as a deep, broken groan spills past his lips. he stares down at you, panting, his dog tags resting on your tongue, your lips wrapped around the cool metal. you stare back, never breaking eye contact as you flatten your tongue against them, tracing over the engraved letters of his name and military rank. captain torres.

the taste is sharp, bitter and metallic, and you moan around it, letting the sound vibrate against the chain. his hand tightens in your hair, fingers flexing.

"qué… qué haces?" joaquín rasps, voice wrecked, thick with something he doesn’t fully understand yet. his brows knit together, but the heat in his gaze betrays him.

you hum around the tags, sucking lightly before letting them drag against your lips as you pull back just enough to murmur, "couldn’t help it. they were just… there."

joaquín lets out a choked noise, somewhere between a curse and a groan, his grip on you tightening. he presses his forehead against yours, exhaling shakily.

"dios mío…"

his breath is hot against your skin, his chest heaving, but you don’t let up. you close your lips around the tags again, sucking, a little filthier this time, pulling him down with you. his chain tugs against the back of his neck, making him swallow hard. his hips jerk forward on instinct, and you sigh through your nose at the way his cock fills you again, deeper than before.

joaquín doesn’t even try to hold back his groan this time. his fingers tighten around your hand beside your head, gripping like it’s the only thing grounding him. then your nails scrape against his scalp, urging him on.

that does it.

he snaps his hips forward, rutting into you with a newfound urgency, his rhythm completely wrecked. the bed creaks louder, his moans slip freer, and you’re right there with him.

he’s never going to be able to wear these without thinking about this moment again.

[youvebeengalindafied]

I’m sure there’s an official version of Fiyero’s last letter somewhere in all the merch content that Universal has spat out over the years, but the version in my head is so much funnier to me than whatever it could possibly be:

Fae -

The Good News: I survived being tortured to death thanks to your spell! Thank you!! ilysm!!

The Bad News: The Grimmerie turned me into that scarecrow you tried to firebomb last week. Whoops.

Anyways, I think it’s time we finally blow this popsicle stand. Here’s the plan:

[overly long and convoluted plan that Elphaba ignores half of]

Step 57: and after the Monkeys finish their full performance of Wizomania for Dorothy & Co, you’ll be able to slip away with Feldspar! Genius right??

Glinda must take the throne, but I will let you decide on whether we tell her of our full plans. All my love to you both.

Yours forever,

Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of the Vinkus, Captain of the Royal Guard of Oz, the Witch’s Consort, High-Honored Friend of Dorothy Gale, and - apparently - a talking scarecrow

P.S. What the hell was with the fire and screaming babe?? Are you doing okay?? You keep threatening to murder a 12 year old, and it’s kinda freaking me out.

P.P.S. Tell Captain Zek I say hi!! Love the face paint btw - great disguise. (Unless you accidentally did turn my whole house guard green, in which case we probably need to talk)

P.P.P.S. did you really threaten to “stuff a mattress” with me?? I’ve been thinking about that for a week…

[hinamie]

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