#where would I put them... no idea... I really need to magically make more money and get a 2-bedroom apartment so I can have more bookshelves

[lotties-ashwagandha]

OFFERINGS

poly!adult!yellowjackets x fem!reader

NSFW! you try to blackmail them for money, but end up with them on your doorstep, and they’re ready to kill you until they realize who you are. the anons were going to smite me down if i didn’t write this, so enjoy :) toxic weirdo shit in this fic so consider this your formal warning. AU where lottie still has her wellness center bc miss cult leader deserves to be happy. also misty is mentioned in this fic but she doesn’t get busy bc in my head she’s ace and possibly aro and I have to follow that.

“You should go,” Lottie says, pulling on a robe. “You’ll be late for work.”

In theory, you could stay for another hour or so, if this wasn’t all so transactional — but you know she doesn’t like the idea of anyone seeing you sneaking away out of her cabin in the mornings, so she sends you away at dawn. If she had more self control, she would have you out before that — but the nights you come over to the wellness center are the only nights Lottie allows herself to really be free, and the two of you usually end up drinking or smoking something so potent that you don’t remember making it into bed together in the first place.

And most of the time, Natalie is no help — she hasn’t been ever since she and Lottie started dating, and you started coming over to be shared between them.

You don’t know how Lottie still manages to function at such an early hour afterwards, and every time, while Natalie sleeps in. If it were up to you, you’d take a full day of recovery. Instead you are on the road driving at sunrise back to your apartment, so that you can change and look somewhat presentable at work in a few hours.

You don’t feel bad about the letter you slipped into their mailbox this time. You should, but you don’t — and you don’t regret sending variations of the same to the rest of the Yellowjackets, because all of them are wealthier than you, and even if you were to receive double the amount of money you were blackmailing them for, it wouldn’t put financial strain on them at all. And now, above all, you need extra money — the current financial landscape makes it nearly impossible to get a job that pays well enough for you to live comfortably.

While you’re driving, your phone starts to ring. The caller ID surprises you with Shauna Sadecki.

“I need you to stop by the house,” she says as soon as you pick up. “It’s important.”

You haven’t spoken to Shauna in a long time. You’re older than her daughter by a long shot, but your families are familiar since your younger sister has been best friends with Callie since she started high school and you were already in college. “Is everything okay?”

“I know you sell Callie weed,” Shauna states.

That’s new. It’s not true, either — not really. “I don’t sell your daughter weed.”

“You give it to someone who gives it to someone who gives it to her,” Shauna sighs. You can’t deny that. “I don’t mind. But she’s run out, and I… I’m going through some shit, and I need you to stop by with your magic shit.”

__

Shauna lights the first joint in front of you. She savors the smoke, closing her eyes for a moment as new calmness sweeps over her features.

“Is everything alright?” You ask. Out of the corner of your eye you see the envelope you sent.

She opens her eyes and unpromptedly glances down at the envelope before turning to look out the kitchen window. “Everything’s fine.”

You nod, clearing your throat awkwardly and pocketing the money she hands you.

“What about you?” Shauna asks. “Haven’t seen you in a long time. Your sister still comes over at least three times a week, though.”

“I’ve been working,” you say carefully, but with the necessary authority in your voice to make your tasks sound big and important.

“On this enterprise you’ve got?” Shauna looks down at everything she bought from you.

“And other things,” you shake your head.

“So mysterious,” she mocks you. “Well, good luck with all of your… other things.”

__

“Hey,” Taissa sits down on the couch next to Van. She hands her the letter. “This was in the mailbox today.”

“What is it?” Van looks up from the box of tapes she had been sorting through.

“Open it.”

Van opens the envelope and reads what lies inside. When she’s done she closes the envelope and rips it in half.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s bullshit,” Van shrugs. “No one’s going to expose anything we did. No one knows anything.”

Taissa shakes her head. “Should we really take that chance, though?”

Van hesitates. “What would we do, anyway? I’m not giving anyone money.”

“Maybe we don’t have to. We could—”

“We’re not killing anyone, either,” Van interrupts, and even though her concern dissipates a bit when Taissa grabs her hand, she is stern.

“I’m going to call Misty,” Taissa decides. “If anyone knows what to do with a blackmailer, it’s that crazy bitch.”

__

Your next stop was a test of luck.

You had a growing suspicion that Melissa, a woman that was meant to be long dead, was living the suburban dream instead of rotting in a grave. You had done some deep diving on what really happened to the Yellowjackets, and some conspiracies you found online matched with some other research — and a few things Lottie and Nat said when you were unreasonably high with them one night — led you to locate Melissa alive and well in a new house with a new name and a wife that just so happened to be the daughter of a researcher killed in the wilderness.

You’ve driven by the house a few times now to make sure no one’s home. The only car left about half an hour ago, and from what you could gather it was the whole family that had left.

The final envelope rests in your hands. It will be simple to walk it up to the mailbox, you’re parked a ways down the street so that no one suspects you, but you’re still wrought with apprehension.

The mailbox, instead of being placed at the end of the street, is a drop box attached to the house next to the front door. It’s closer than you want to be to the house even with no one inside, but you gather your courage and try to act natural for anyone watching as you go up the front steps to occupy the porch.

You reach for the mailbox, but before you can slip the envelope inside, the front door swings open.

Shauna Sadecki meets your eyes. “You need to go.”

You pause, clutching the envelope. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Shauna tightens her grip on a knife in her left hand. Then, she sees the envelope you hold, and recognition sweeps over her face. “What’s that?”

You don’t have time to answer. She rips it out of your hands and opens it, scanning over the letter within.

Shauna looks back up at you. “You fucking bitch.”

Another voice sounds from inside. “Who is it?”

Melissa joins Shauna in the doorway. There’s no doubt that it’s her, with the same quiet sureness that you remember from pictures of her taken forever ago. And if a resemblance to her past self wasn’t enough, she still wears that backwards fucking hat.

Melissa steals the letter from Shauna. “What is this?”

Shauna looks hesitant to say, guilty even. She speaks quietly, but you hear the fury in her voice. “She’s trying to blackmail us.”

Melissa crumples up the paper and faces Shauna. “So it wasn’t me.”

Shauna doesn’t meet her eyes.

“You thought it was Melissa?” You look between them and your gaze settles on Shauna’s knife. “Did you come here to…”

“And now it’s you,” Shauna pulls you inside and shuts the door. She points her knife at you, guiding you to go stand over by the fireplace. “You’re going to stay there until we decide what to do with you.”

You’re fucked — and the horrible thing is that you don’t really mind. You stand with Shauna Sadecki pointing a knife straight at your heart and while you are afraid, you embrace it. You have lived such an existence of monotony that part of you wants to take a step forward to find out what the point of the blade feels like against your chest, to see if she will drive it in the rest of the way. You want the intensity of her gaze pointed at you just as sharply, you want to bear her scorn.

“The rest are on their way,” Shauna says, coming closer. “Lottie, Natalie… What do you think they will do when they find out it’s been you behind this all along?”

You’re not sure how she knows. You’ve been discreet with your visits to the wellness center.

Shauna toys with the knife in her hands, glancing down at the paper Melissa holds. “Hand-delivering a blackmail threat. I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

You didn’t think any of it through. Your desperation had gotten the better of you and maybe, in the back of your mind, you had wanted to get caught. You wanted to feel powerful and in some way prove your defiance of the usual system of money honestly earned and a world where only the rich have the privilege of disobedience. You wanted to be caught and somehow praised for it.

You find no praise here. Death watches you.

“We could have you arrested,” Melissa stalks over. You realize she carries a knife now, too. “You could be fined, you could be put in prison… you wouldn’t survive it.”

You wouldn’t. You don’t know if you’ll survive this.

You hear a car pulling into the driveway. You stay still, even when Shauna lowers the knife and lets in the rest of the Yellowjackets.

They come inside one by one and suddenly you recall every horrible tale you’ve ever heard about their time in the wilderness. You remember the stories that they ate their own teammates, that they used to make sacrifices to an unnamed spirit and hope for salvation that was never truly received.

Lottie comes in first, and she is the first to notice you. She looks between you, Shauna, and Melissa, confusion etched into her features. “What’s going on?”

Shauna waits until the rest of them are inside before pointing the knife at you again. “It wasn’t Melissa. It was her.”

Lottie exchanges a look with Natalie, who stands at her side with the same look of surprise. Then Lottie approaches Shauna and grabs for the blade in her hand.

Shauna doesn’t let go. She looks up at her defiantly and a silent communication passes between the two of them that causes the rest of the room to fall silent.

Shauna lets go of the knife.

You take a step back instinctively when Lottie approaches with the knife. You can’t meet her eyes, not even when she steps so close to you that you can feel her breath on your neck when she leans slightly and speaks in a volume only you are meant to hear. “You spent so many nights with Nat and I, we thought you were ours, and you did this…”

“I needed money,” you say quietly.

“I would have given you money, love. All you had to do was ask,” Lottie moves back half a step and trails the knife down to the hollow of your throat. Greater authority comes into her voice. “There are three ways out of this for you. The first is you leave, you leave and for your own good we never see or hear from you again. The second way is that you give us something in return, a repentance. You give us an appeasement and we all carry on like we used to. And the third way…” Lottie lifts your chin with the flat side of the knife. You meet her eyes, and you understand her implication, that in the third way your blood is spilled for It and everything you read about the Yellowjackets becomes true. “What will it be?”

Your breath catches in your throat and for a moment you can barely breathe as you acclimate to the feeling of the knife, but you’ve already made up your mind. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to leave. You want them. You want to beg for their forgiveness. “The second way.”

“The second way,” Lottie repeats, removing the knife and stepping behind you, circling you. “What will you give us?”

“Anything you want.”

She stops in front of you. “That’s not how offerings work. You don’t ask, you give.”

You hesitate. You know what you want to give, you know what she wants you to give, but you’re not sure if anyone else shares the same idea.

“You can pick a different answer if you’d like,” Lottie says casually, like she’s not offering isolation or death, “but you have to decide now.”

You have known what you’ve wanted since you started all of this, even if you never fully admitted to it. So there is no fear or regret or horror living in you when you step up to her and kiss her. Her arms slide around you, one hand pulling at your hair and driving you closer to her. You hear the metallic clink of the knife dropping to the floor.

Someone else is behind you now, pressing up against your back. You can tell instantly that it’s Nat — you have been down this road before. She reaches for your shirt, greedily pulling it over your head before latching onto your neck and sucking angry marks onto your skin. Her nails dig into your sides, and you moan when she pulls you closer back against her.

Lottie is pulled away from you by Melissa, who isn’t so apt to share you. You run your hands along the defined muscles of her shoulders as she kisses you, and you gasp when she tugs you forward and leads you into the bedroom. She gets impatient before you can reach the bed, instead shoving you back up against the wall.

She’s about to get on her knees in front of you when Shauna pushes her away.

You meet Shauna’s eyes for a moment. You both know that this will not leave you after, that the way your families have been innocently entwined will be poisoned. But she shoves her fingers into your mouth and you suck on them anyway. And you let her, and again Natalie who has returned, leads you over to the bed.

It’s Taissa and Van, though, who pin you down onto it. Taissa doesn’t let you watch the rest of them caught up in each other kissing and sucking and moaning, and Van takes over and straddles you once the two of them have rid you of the rest of your clothes. She leans down, shifting to suck at your collarbones, moaning against your skin.

“So beautiful, isn’t she?” Taissa agrees, hand trailing against your jaw as she looks just as far gone at the sight of you beneath her girlfriend. She speaks about you like you can’t hear. “She’ll look so gorgeous when she cums for us.”

Lottie joins you on the bed. She looks down at Van with something akin to annoyance. “Let me have her.”

“You’ve already had your turn.”

“No,” Lottie argues, but her protests are silenced when Nat comes over and pulls her against her, and for the moment she’s satisfied. And you’re happy with the solution too, every inch of you burning with need for them with Van settling between your legs as you watch Natalie pull Lottie’s dress down and slide a hand down to rub at her clit. You moan at the sight, and the two of them notice, Lottie’s gaze a heavy pressure on you until Nat slides two fingers inside of her and Lottie throws her head back against the other woman’s shoulder.

At the same time, Van licks through your folds, tongue sliding lazily over your clit. You gasp and Taissa leans down to kiss you, and somewhere close you hear Shauna’s whispered praise to you and Melissa moaning as god-knows-who is touching her.

It’s building quickly, the heat between your thighs that’s growing into something so fervent and agonizingly intense that the moans that escape you are embarrassing, and the speed at which they’ve taken you to the edge of release even more.

“Watch her, she’s so close,” you hear Natalie whisper to Lottie. “Watch her cum from seeing us.”

Van sucks your clit into her mouth, working her fingers inside of you, your wetness coating her chin and hand. And then Taissa straddles your face, lowering herself down onto your mouth, and your hands are shaking as you pull her closer and start to lick through her wetness.

Someone pulls Van away from you — Shauna.

“Don’t let her cum yet,” she orders. “Not until the rest of us have.”

im on my period btw and everyone needs to know because i am very angry about it. wrote this on my typewriter bluetooth keyboard like a true gangster of irredeemable sin, a glutton of tickled toes and one jolly fellow of olden days. comment/reblog if you enjoyed :)

masterlist | ko-fi/“buy me a $2 coffee” | taglist form

[after-witch]

I wish 90s & older horror paperbacks weren't so expensive nowadays... I just want the entire collection of Fear Street without having to spend like... $600... is that too much to ask.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

I think something that's fascinating in the AI discussion is how non-creatives perceive AI versus how many creatives perceive AI.

For example, years before AI was a thing--I spoke with someone about my creative writing projects and they expressed to me how they found it unfathomable that I could just make up entire worlds far removed from our reality of existence. To them, it was like magic.

To me, it was the culmination of countless hours spent playing with words until they flowed into semi-coherent lines of thought and emotion. I remember being ten years old and laboring away on my "biggest" novel project ever--it was 5k words full of singular sentence-long paragraphs and garbled heaps of grammar atrocities to the English language.

If I hadn't written it, I wouldn't have come to learn how to create the basic foundations of a story.

But I do get the "it's magic" sentiment a bit--I'm that way with music. Theoretically, I understand the components of a music composition but it feels like magic to see a musician that can listen to a tune for the first time and play it perfectly due to years of honing in their craft.

That's the premise of that quote from Arthur C. Clarke: "Magic's just science we don't understand yet."

When it comes to anything we don't have countless hours of experience with, it feels like magic. It feels like something that's outside of our feeble human capabilities. It's not until we start to put in the time to learn a skill that it becomes more attainable inside our heads.

Generative AI presents a proposition to the non-creative: "What if you could skip past the 'learning process' and immediately create whatever art of your choosing?"

It's instant dopamine. In a world that preys upon our ever-decreasing attention spans and ways of farming short spikes of dopamine, was it ever a surprise that generative ai would be capitalized in this fashion?

So for the non-creative, when they use generative AI and see something resembling their prompt, it feels good. They are "writing" stories, they are "making" art in ways they could never do with their lack of skills.

(It is, in fact, really cool that we have technology that can do this. It's just incredibly shitty that it's exploitative of the human artists whose works were taken without permission as well as its existence threatening their livelihoods.)

What I think is equally concerning as the data scraping of generative ai is the threat that AI imposes on the education of the arts. More and more, you see an idea being pushed that you don't need knowledge/experience in how to create art, all you need to do is feed prompts into generative ai and let it do the "work" for you.

Generative AI pushes the idea that all art should be pristine, sleek and ready for capitalism consumption. There is no room for amateur artists struggling like foals to take their first steps in their creative journeys. We live in a world where time is money and why "waste" time learning when you can have instant success?

It's a dangerous concept because presents a potential loss in true understanding of how art works. It obscures it and makes it seem "impossible" to the average person, when art is one of the freest forms of expressions out there.

It's already happening--Nanowrimo, the writing challenge where the entire point was writing 50k original words in a single month regardless of how pretty it looked--coming out and saying that it is ableist and classist to be opposed to AI is the canary in the coalmine of what's to come.

For the non-creatives who enjoy the generative ai, it feels like a power fantasy come to life. But for creatives concerned about generative ai?

We're living in a horror movie.

[talenlee]

Life With Generative Tools

In 2023, back when my posts were still being shared to Twitter because the API wasn’t paid-only, I wrote an article about the potential ramifications of generative art media going forward. My concern in the immediate was that the tools weren’t going to go away, but also the potential harm to artists was as much about general economic precarity and not people using fanart to make their D&D characters. I further added to this with a consideration of how I wanted to avoid using generative art in my game development because I didn’t want what people would say about it. That is, a social pressure about the art is what keeps me from using it, not a personal philosophical disposition. I’m an artist who already works with collage and constraints, this feels like a handy way to have something I can play with.

Well, it’s been a year and change and a sort of AI Art Apocalypse has happened, and if you’re not aware of it, it’s because you’re someone who avoids all of the pools that have been so thoroughly pissed in that they are now just piss. If you’re at all related to any part of the internet where people share a bunch of images – which is to say a lot of social media – then you’re already dealing with the place crawling with generative images. Whether it’s a fanart booru, or big sites like facebook and twitter, or god help you deviantart, there is a pretty clear sign that anywhere that opened the door to generative art became a space overwhelmingly for generative art.

I teach about this subject now and I have had some time with it in a situation away from the internet, and I’d like to give you some insights into what this stuff is for, what it does, why you shouldn’t use it, and ways it can be useful.

Content Warning: I’m going to be talking about these tools as tools that exist and leaving the philosophical/ethical arguments about ‘art theft’ and their genesis aside. I’m not including any examples. No shrimp jesus jumpscare.

You might notice I’m saying ‘generative art’ and not ‘AI art.’ Part of this is because I don’t want to buy into the idea that these tools are ‘artificial intelligence.’ Ironically, ‘AI art’ now has less of an implication of being ‘Artificial Intelligence’ and is much more of an implication of ‘it’s ugly shiny art of shrimp jesus with badly spelled signs.’

I want to focus for this conversation on generative graphical tools, and I want to do that because I don’t have much experience with the other types. The textual generators offer me something I don’t really need? I already make a ton of words of dubious quality. Those are actually the things that concern me because their natural aesthetic is authoritive and comprehensive and that’s why it’s a problem that they’re being used to present any old nonsense that may just be straight up wrong. I don’t use those tools and I avoid the platforms that use them so I’m not familiar with them.

Things Generative Art Is Good For

I already use art I don’t own, a lot, for playing. Every day for the past three years I’ve shared a custom Magic: The Gathering playing card, a game I don’t own the rights to, using a card face I don’t own the rights to, and artwork from an artist on Artstation whose artwork I did not pay for or even ask for. This is generally seen as a totally reasonable and acceptable form of playful, transformative media generation and I at no point pretend I have any rights to the material. If I take a picture of someone famous and put a speech bubble over their mouth saying ‘I drink farts,’ if I, as tumblr says, play with jpgs like dolls, that is by no means being done with rights and permission.

Which means we’re already aware that there’s a way of playing with images that both violates copyright but is generally okay to do.

The metric I use for this is if the thing you’re using generative art for doesn’t matter, then it doesn’t matter. If you’re not going to try and claim money, if you’re not going to put it on a marketplace, if you aren’t going to try and claim ownership and profit off generative material, I think you’re probably fine. I mean probably, if you’re using it to say, generate revenge porn of a classmate that’s an asshole move, but the thing is that’s a bad thing regardless of the tool you’re using. If you’re using it to bulk flood a space, like how Deviantart is full of accounts with tens of thousands of pictures made in a week, then that’s an asshole move because, again, it’s an asshole move regardless of the tool.

If you’re a roleplayer and you want a picture of your Dragonborn dude with glasses and a mohawk? That’s fine, you’re using it to give your imagination a pump, you’re using it to help your friends visualise what matters to you about your stuff. That’s fine! It’s not like you’re not making artistic choices when you do this, cycling through choices and seeing the one that works best for you. That’s not an action deprived of artistic choice!

There are also some things that are being labelled as ‘AI’ which seem to be more like something else to me. Particularly, there are software packages that resize images now, which are often calling it ‘AI upscaling,’ which it may be using some variety of these Midjourney style models to work, but which serves a purpose similar to sequences of resizes and selective blurs. There are also tools that can do things like remove people from the background of images, which is… good? It should be good and easy to get people out of pictures they didn’t consent to be in.

Things Generative Art Is Bad For

Did you know you don’t own copyright on generated art? This is pretty well established. If you generated the image, it’s not yours, because you didn’t make it. It was made by an algorithm, and algorithms aren’t people. This isn’t a complicated issue, this just means that straight up, any art you make at work that’s meant to be used for work, shouldn’t be used because people can just straight up use it. Logo design, branding, all that stuff is just immediately open for bootlegging or worse, impersonation.

Now you might think that’s a bit of a strange thing to bring up but remember, I’m dealing with students a lot. Students who want to position themselves as future prompt engineers or social media managers need to understand full well that whatever they make with these tools are not things that will have an enduring useful application. Maybe you can use it for a meme you post on an account, but it’s not something you can build branding off, because you don’t own it. Everyone owns it.

From that we get a secondary problem, because if you didn’t own it, its only use is what people say or think when they look at it, and thing is, people are already sick and tired of the aesthetics of generated art. You’re going to get people who don’t care glossing over it, and people who do care hating it. Generative art as a way of presenting your business or foregrounding your ‘vibes’ are going to think that your work is, primarily, ‘more AI art’ and not about what it’s trying to communicate. When the internet is already full of Slop, if you use these tools to represent your work, you are going to be turning your own work and media presence into slop.

What’s more, you need to be good at seeing mistakes if you’re using these tools. If you put some art out there that’s got an extra thumb or someone’s not holding a sword right, people will notice. That means you need to start developing the toolset above for fine-tuning and redrawing sections of artwork. Now, that’s not a bad thing! That’s a skill you can develop! But it means that the primary draw of these tools is going to be something that you then have to do your own original work over the top of.

The biggest reason though I recommend students not treat this work like it’s a simple tool for universal application is that it devalues you as a worker. If you’re trying to get hired for a job at a company and you can show them a bunch of generative art you’ve made to convince them that you’re available, all you are really telling them is that you can be replaced by a small script that someone else can make. Your prompts are not unique enough, your use of the tool not refined enough that you can’t just be replaced by anyone else who gets paid less. You are trying to sell yourself as a product to employers, and generative art replaces what you bring with what everyone brings.

They make you lazy! People include typos in the generative media because they’re not even looking at them or caring about what they say! And that brings me to the next point that there are just things these tools don’t do a good job doing, and that’s stuff I want to address next in…

Things That Are Interesting

Because the tools of generative art create a very impressive-seeming artistic output, they are doing it in a way that people want to accept. They want to accept them and that means accepting the problems, or finding a way to be okay with those problems. People who don’t care that much about typos and weird fingers and so on, because you know, it gets me a lot of what I want, but it doesn’t get me everything, and I don’t know how to get the everything.

If you generate an image and want to move something in it a little bit, your best way to do that is to edit the image directly. Telling the software to do that, again, but change this bit, this much, is in fact really hard because it doesn’t know what those parts are. It doesn’t have an idea of where they are, it’s all running on an alien understanding of nightmare horror imagery.

What that means is that people start to negotiate with themselves about what they want, getting to ‘good enough’ and learning how to negotiate with the software. My experiments with these tools led to me making a spreadsheet so I could isolate the terms I use that cause problems, and sometimes those results are very, very funny. In this, the tool teaches you how to use it (which most tools do), but the teaching results in a use that is wildly inappropriate to what the tool promises it’s for.

One of my earliest experiments was to take four passages from One Stone that described a character and just put that text straight into midjourney to see what it generated based on that plain text description. Turns out? Nothing like what I wanted. But when I treated it like say, I was searching for a set of tags on a booru system like danbooru or safebooru… then it was pretty good at that. Which is what brings me to the next stage of things, which is like…

These things were trained on porn sites right?

Like, you can take some very specific tags from some of the larger boorus and type them into these prompt sites and get a very reasonable representation of what it is you asked for, even if that term is a part of an idiolect, a term that’s specific to that one person in one space that’s become a repeated form of tag. Just type in an artist name and see if it can replicate their style and then check to see what kind of art that artist makes a lot of. This is why you can get a thing that can give you police batons and mirrored sunglasses just fine but if you ask for ‘police uniform’ you get some truly Tom of Finland kind of bulging stuff.

Conclusion

Nobody who dislikes generative art is wrong. I think there are definitely uses of it that are flat out bad, and I think it’s totally okay and even good to say so. Make fun of people who are using it, mock the shrimp jesuses, make it very clear you’re aware of what’s going on and why. There’s nothing wrong with that.

I do think that these tools are useful as toys, and I think that examining the art that they produce, and the art that the community around them are exalting and venerating tells us stuff. Of course, what they tell us is that there are a lot of people out there who really want porn, and there are just as many people who want the legitimisation of impressive seeming images that they don’t care about what those images are doing or what they’re for.

Now part of this defensiveness is also the risk of me being bitten. If I buy stock art that isn’t correctly disclosed as being generative art, then I might make and sell something using generative art and now I look like an asshole for not being properly good at detecting and hating ‘AI art,’ and when I’ve say, made a game using generative art that then is integrated into things like worldbuilding and the card faces, then it gets a lot harder to tear it out at the roots and render myself properly morally clean. I’m sure a bunch of the stock art I used before 2020 was made algorithmically, just pumped out slop that was reprocessing other formula or technical objects to fill up a free stock art site like Freepik.

Which is full of generative art now.

You won’t hurt yourself by understanding these things, and people who are using them for fun or to learn or explore are by no means doing something morally ill. There are every good reason to keep these things separated from anything that involves presenting yourself seriously, or using them to make money, though. If nothing else, people will look at you and go ‘oh, you’re one of those shrimp jesus assholes.’

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[primreaperstuff]

Idea: Monster Falls but evil (by which I mean the nature of the curse, not the characters) (longpost)

So I was looking at Monster Falls stuff and thinking, "Hey, these characters keep ending up being cool." Like, it's not as if Dipper would be especially happy to be half deer but a cervitaur is cool, aligns with who Dipper wants to be well enough, and he totally gets abilities he likes out of the deal. Mabel's usually happy to be a mermaid or a unicorn and again, it fits. And no hate. I like Monster Falls because it's fun like that.

But what if instead of fitting the character, it fit their insecurities, traumas, etc., in the worst possible way?

It starts at Dreamscaperers. Gideon is trying to summon Bill, but there's been some sort of edit war in Journal 2 on the incantation (Ford trying to cross it out and Bill putting it back in) that makes it very hard to read. As a result, Gideon says the wrong incantation and, instead of summoning Bill, turns everybody inside the weirdness barrier into monsters. He himself ends up becoming a siren, and nearly chokes to death-- he is extremely lucky that Soos is there and not willing to let a child die on his watch even if that child is a total creep, although he hates that Soos did the rescue and not Mabel (Mabel was honestly debating if she should leave Gideon there, since he tried to kill her brother once and she's fairly certain Gideon would do it again if he had the chance). You would think that being a siren would be fun for Gideon, but it turns out he actually HATES singing and acting. It started as something his dad forced him to do because his dad couldn't cut it as a singer, then became a means of manipulating people post-amulet. He doesn't like being confined to Gravity Falls Lake because it limits how much control he can exert over people, and he hates how meaningless it is when humans agree to things now because he has no way of knowing if they truly want to or not. Forcing compliance from people who don't want to do things seems like something that should annoy Gideon, but it's actually the only part of ordering people around that he enjoys and now he's lost it. His abilities don't work on monsters, and everybody blames him for the monster transformations, so they want nothing to do with him either.

Dipper winds up becoming a tooth fairy. This kid, who struggles so much with his masculinity and not being taken seriously because of his youth, has to learn to live as a sparkly (I'm thinking he literally emits glitter instead of sweat) eater of bones. He's initially really tiny too and has to get a blast from the size-changing gem to get to the size he's used to. Even so, he's never going to grow facial or more chest hair. He has to subsist on bones-- while he can get by on animal bones, he needs to get the trace-mineral-plot-stuff that's only in human bones every now and then. He's in zombie country, not a murderer/butcher, and the teeth need to be in decently good shape to be nutritious enough for him, so that pretty much leaves children's lost teeth as his best bet for food. While he can eat non-bones, he doesn't get any nutrition from them and it's sort of like a lactose intolerance where if he overdoes it he's in for a very bad time in the bathroom. He isn't compelled to leave money or trinkets behind-- it's more of a bribe for kids not to call the cops on him, since he kind of breaks and enters to get those teeth ("Hi, may I feed upon your child's discarded tooth?" isn't exactly something you ask people and get a yes often for, even in monster town). Also, Dipper can't hide being a fairy because his toes are gone. Fairy legs and feet are vestigial. He has to fly to get around with his sparkly pink wings that feel like getting kissed by a butterfly when they hit people. Upside: he gets magic access! Downside: Whenever he uses it his Big Dipper birthmark glows and he sparkles more intensely!

And Mabel, who values her cuteness so much and loves bringing smiles to people's faces, ends up being a gorgon-- the last thing anybody wants to be face-to-face with. She looks a lot like what Bill made her look like in Dreamscaperers when he took her cuteness, but with more grayish skin and rubber boas (the snake species is native to Oregon. Rubber boas are friendly, peaceful noodles but they are dirt-colored and most enjoy chilling in dark places away from non-boas) instead of hair. She has a mental link with the boas and can use them like short-range grappling hooks, but they get extremely stressed out when she hasn't got a hoodie or something like it that they can hide in, and that makes her stressed out. Also rubber boas hibernate, so that makes her extremely tired for a good chunk of the year, and she has to accommodate their dietary needs too as they rely on her for food (Fun fact: Mabel juice is very bad for rubber boas). She has to wear very dark sunglasses to protect other people-- only humans are turned to stone when they look her in the eye (and it is possible to reverse, but a really big PITA), but monsters feel a very sharp and sudden bolt of cold that briefly stuns them (it often scares fellow monsters away). Mabel struggles because she's, like, not a superficial person at all! That's something she really values. But at the same time she hates her gray-green skin and having these weird poop noodles for hair that give her the Torments when she drinks Mabel juice or uncovers her head too much. And people outside of her family who aren't Grenda or Candy (both would most enjoy being monsters, and so of course were out of town when all this stuff went down) definitely treat her differently now that she's not as conventionally adorable as she used to be. It's hurtful.

Stanley, who has always struggled with feeling like a shittier clone of his brother and who is determined to stay out of everybody's business, ends up as the Reflexorcist. The Reflexorcist was a monster introduced in the Book of Bill. It is confined to the mirror realm (good luck getting that portal running now, Stan! Actually, he winds up asking Soos to do it in a moment of desperation. It does delay things by a lot so Ford is able to slay Bill before it's activated.) and compulsively lists off everybody's insecurities when they see themselves in the mirror. I do think it would be interesting to expand the Reflexorcist's powers so it also reads intrusive and embarrassing thoughts as opposed to just talking about your appearance. Stan does not want to hear and definitely does not want to blurt out to Dipper what Dipper thinks about Wendy, his puberty voice, and his lack of chest hair when he brushes his teeth. Stan has to fight every instinct in his body not to do that, but it's a lot easier to resist the urge when it's somebody who has accepted their insecurities and embarrassments. Meaning that Stan feels pressured to get involved and help people, even though he'd truly rather not know and projects an image of not caring about other people at all.

Soos, who is so good hearted and kind to everybody but clumsy to a fault, ends up becoming a demon. If he's not careful, he can induce nightmares in people and monsters, and his powers relate to lowering people and monsters' inhibitions so they're more willing to commit his assigned sin. Fortunately his sin is gluttony, so nothing violent, but unfortunately gluttony is very ill-defined and can include acts of greed like hoarding money-- and he can't share his snacks, as any food he comes into contact with or helps prepare is automatically tainted with sin and will not satiate people or monsters. It makes life hard at the Mystery Shack because his sin-fluence tempts customers to steal, and the only thief allowed in the shack is Stan. He's sort of structured his identity around being Stan's son-ployee, so not being able to work at the Mystery Shack really, really hurts him and he has to find meaning outside of that. It also sucks because Stan (being stuck in the mirror realm) is one of the few folks who can actually interact with him without getting influenced by sin. Plus it's hard for him to help people when his sin-fluence makes them more inclined to be uncooperative and ungrateful. Poor guy is constantly hungry too-- it's not like he's starving or anything, but he never feels quite full and it sucks. At least he doesn't put on weight as a demon, but he doesn't lose weight either.

Wendy, who was so embarrassed by being freakishly tall as a kid and comes from a family of lumberjacks, ends up becoming the same species as Steve. For the sake of the story we'll call him a wood giant. The wood giant is a huge creature that latches its soul onto gigantic trees and more recently machines to give itself the ability to interact with the physical world. It is a solitary thing that generally hides out from lumberjacks, since lumberjacks cutting down their trees hurts them. Unsurprisingly, being a giant makes it very hard for her to interact with her friends, and she hates how she is constantly conspicuous. If she's feeling anxious, she can't exactly play it off like it's nothing because people will see her shaking. And Steve is not a very nice giant-- think of the worst things about Robbie combined with the worst things about Thompson, and you have Steve's personality.

Pacifica, who is haunted by the sins of her family that she is conditioned to participate in and values her beauty and public relations so much, ends up being a krasue. A krasue is a spirit in Southeastern Asian folklore who looks normal during the day but by night detaches the rest of her body from her head, neck, heart, stomach, and intestines and floats around looking for rotten and disgusting things to eat (Lucky for Pacifica but damning for the American food system, ultra-processed food counts as trash so she can live off that-- although she's very ashamed of it). They are largely harmless, but basically nobody likes them because they get bile and slime all over the place, and they are particularly attracted to placentas and clothes. In Thai myths, they are women who lived sinful, fraudulent lives and thus were cursed. Sometimes the spirit and the woman are one and the same, sometimes the spirit and woman are separate but the woman can't survive after being cut off from the spirit, whereas the spirit will just find a new host if cut off from the woman-- I am thinking this might be interesting to toy with as a metaphor for social status and the upper class. She finds it and things her family has done for it grotesque, yet she can't live without it and she knows she'll just be replaced if she leaves. She's been pretending to be a superficial, snobby aristocrat just like her mom and dad for so long that it became part of her true self. Her mom and dad are not doing much better here-- Priscilla has become a Killbilly and Preston has become a werewolf. Her mom's personality and interests are largely intact, but now it causes her severe pain to wear shoes, jewelry, or uncomfortable clothing, she has claws instead of nails, and she is more comfortable communicating in hambone code and "banjo songs" (like whale songs, but for Killbillies) than English. However, Preston rejects her for being a filthy hillbilly and files for divorce immediately. He on the other hand is in deep denial that he has become anything at all. It's not clear if he blacks out in wolf form because of something the form does or because he thinks he is about to black out and that makes it real. He refuses to see the significance in the additional hair he has been growing even during the day and does everything he can to hide it. Although his wolf form looks fearsome, his behavior is more in line with a really intelligent, rowdy dog. While he will put his dirty paws on the couch, shred pillows, counter surf, and hunt deer, he is actually a lot easier and more fun to be around as a wolf than as a human. If he wasn't in denial of being a werewolf, he'd be utterly furious and baffled about people preferring his wolf form.

Old Man McGucket, who worked so hard to forget his traumas, ends up being a shapeshifter. His true form is now the same as the Shifty who traumatized him so long ago, and he doesn't have a good grip on his powers thanks to his scrambled mind so he regularly transforms into whatever comes to mind without realizing or even thinking about it. He is in for a lot of sleepless nights, and so are the people neighboring the Gravity Falls city dump. He does get a better handle on things after confronting his past and the Society of the Blind Eye, at least, but it's still incredibly tough for him to resemble the thing that hurt him so much so long ago and remembering the past has its own toll.

I like the idea of a twist where the Valentinos actually weren't changed at all. Greg was the product of Victor's experimentation with the bodies at his funeral home to produce the perfect son-- basically Frankenstein's monster if Frankenstein actually loved him. Janice is a lich puppetting another deceased woman's body, and she feels so blessed to have found her kind of "people" in the Valentinos. Robbie was somehow born human despite the circumstances, but has been a zombie since he was 14 when an accident at summer camp resulted in him drowning. His mother performed a profane forbidden ritual to defy god and save him, and that was the consequence.

Those are my ideas so far. I have no idea where to take them but figured it was worth sharing. I hope you like them.

[rrezshifts]

𝓻𝙚𝙖𝖑𝙞𝙩i𝙚𝙨 𝙞’d 𝙡o𝙫𝙚 t𝙤 𝙛𝙞n𝙙

this is a list of realities i compiled from three lovely people’s dr ideas posts: ellysdreamworldd, deminetly, & lalalian. this post is a way for me to clear out my likes without having to keep track of the realities i’m interested in shifting to in a notebook i’ll lose or forget about . . .

a retro high school/college reality. this could be a reality from any decade where retro still fits. the original poster wrote 70s-00s. i feel like i partly already have this with my twilight reality, it’s set in the early 2000s. but it’s definitely something i could be interested in shifting to outside of that reality

2000s victoria’s secret angel reality. see this is weird because i am a trans man. and like . . . the parts of my body that are inherently feminine and ideal for an angel, i don’t like. however, it can be what i like so put my ideal masculine but twinkish form in some lingerie and call it a day!!

professional tourist reality. a reality where i have all the money in the world and travel the world with no responsibilities seems SO fun! but like an ideal and bigotry free world. and also i get to bring someone with me!!

vampire reality. tbh i already have a few of those . . . but i’m not in love with them. that and they’re from pre-existing media, and i want one that i can really play with and make my own and just fall in love with my own mind and life through it, yk??

royalty reality. this could be so so incredibly fun. but i fear the way i view and picture a royalty reality in my mind at the moment . . . it’s off putting. i’d need a new perspective to look at these type of realities from before trying any world building or i may genuinely give up immediately

summer camp reality. as the counselors of course. like imagine being a counselor with other hot people your age and just bouncing from counselor to counselor all summer as we all sneak around camp after curfew and just go crazy!! though i technically have a reality like this already . . . my the quarry reality is basically this because i removed all the horror game elements. i should think about it more though for sure, that why i put it here

mermaid reality. like genuinely the way the original poster described it as a the little mermaid kind of romance plot almost makes me not scared of the deep ocean aspect of this reality. but i love marine biology and marine animals so like i would realistically love this too. this is another one though, that i would need a perspective shift because right now the idea of this reality is off putting to me as well

magic university reality. quite literally just hogwarts in my marauders reality. but i haven’t scripted shit and i need to get on it. so i’m adding it in hopes that’ll change. it won’t lol

small town shop owner reality. the original poster said it was a flower shop. but the idea of it being like a small business of my choice, for example a metaphysical shop, and falling in love with the small business next door’s owner?? bonus points if it’s a tattoo artist i fall for, because why can’t fanfic tropes come to life!!

planetary romance reality. described as exploration of different planets with romance specifically with aliens. and you know what . . . i’m not gonna lie. the romance with aliens is what sold me!! call me what you want! (it’ll probably be true) but this genuinely seems like such a fun reality to get to workshop!!

eco-metamorphosis reality. described as a world being colonized by aliens but instead of rejecting them you welcome them with open arms. and i was thinking this could be so fun to imagine a world that has coexisted with aliens for generations now, a good many years after, and how that looks and what daily life would be like

that’s all of them!! please look at their posts if you liked any of these and want to see what else they have shared!! i’ll tag them here so they know i used their posts for a sort of form of content @ellysdreamworldd , @deminetly & @lalalian !! thank you for the great ideas 🙏

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Witches and Ghouls - Jabberwock Edition

This was originally requested by Anon who asked: "How would to Tokyo Debunker characters find out about and react to a Witch! Reader?"

I had to split it up into a few sections, separating the boys by their houses so here's the next part. The links to all the others are below. I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Haru Sagara, Towa Otonashi, Ren Shiranami x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're a witch! And even though the characters have made deals with demons themselves, they might have some surprising reactions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think Haru would actually be pretty oblivious to this. It’s going to completely blindside him since he’s so busy running Jabberwock.

And as much as he cares about you, wondering whether you’re a witch or not isn’t super high up on his list or priorities.

His perception of you doesn’t change a whole lot but he will ask you to help out more around Jabberwock since he knows now that you aren’t a defenceless human.

He’ll also keep an eye out for any hard to find ingredients you might need. Jabberwock is pretty big and there’s a lot of strange plants growing there.

Towa’s going to know instinctively about your witchy powers. The moment he sees you, he’s going to smile mysteriously and hand you some ferns (a plant that represents magic).

He won’t tell anyone though. He likes being in on your little secret and wants to keep it just between the two of you.

He also won’t be put off by your witchiness. He’s pretty strange himself so if anything, he thinks it’s nice being around someone with strange abilities who’s not a ghoul.

Much like Haru, if you need any plants, he’s all over it. He knows Jabberwock even better than the captain and will often bring you plans even if you don’t ask for them.

Ren is the last to know. He’s watched one too many b-rated horror movies and now he has no idea what a real witch looks like.

Totally blindsided and completely freaked out. He’s used to those things happening in movies, not real life and it’s going to take him a while to rationalise everything.

Once he realises that he still cares about you regardless, he’s immediately falling into the “oh, okay, that actually changes nothing” category.

The revelation really isn’t going to change anything about your relationship. He won’t ask anything of you, as long as you don’t ask too much of him.

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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

[iamadequate1]

Warning: this is a long post about the "threw Ed's body overboard" scrapped point hat DJenks put on Bsky....

I think we need to be a little careful when discussing cut material. Something being original and different doesn't mean it was better or actually fit into the story. We can look at some of the S1 changes or the lost makeover plot, and ask what could have been, these things that would have made the show different but not necessarily better (and in most cases, would have made it much weaker, makeover plot, I'm looking at you). We had a brief snippet of cut material last week from Jenkins, and I'm going to throw my thoughts out on it.

"They thought they had killed him and threw his body overboard" (in response to "Ok but... Who made the decision not to k*ll Ed? (...) Or… did they think Ed was already") "Er I mean stashed him inside ship. It’s been a while guys 😅" (in response to "But david he was still on the ship") "There was a version where they threw Ed over but we decided it was better if Stede reunited with him in this ep"

Again, a different version does not mean a better or more cohesive version. We can plainly see that this early version is much weaker. This would have had Eps 3 and 4 being completely different and undermined something in Ep 5. One major thing in particular: it would have removed the twist in Ep 3 of Ed being in his mind, leaving it instead to have Ed's lone introspection pieces removed ordelivered less effectively or having him physically interacting with a ghost on a literal beach without knowing it (or doing something else entirely!). This, of course, would have removed the climax of Ep 3 with Ed's self-hatred personification literally throwing him into the water (giving us a "treading water, waiting to drown" parallel) and Stede appearing as a bright support to give Ed the strength to live, or it would have literally had Ed drowning in the water and Stede rescuing him, I guess? We know they never would have just met normally on the beach, calling back to a Jenkins interview from S2 that Merstede was part of the pitch for S2:

You talk about the Stede as a mermaid as if it was a natural idea, but I need to know where it came from. I don’t know how we were talking about it. They wanted us to come up with a Season 2 pitch during Season 1. And that was one of the ideas we hit on, and I can’t quite remember how we got there, but it was us asking, what is a pirate world? Are there mermaids? Is there magic in this show? With pirate stuff, I don’t know that I want there to be magic, but there was a way where it was something really beautiful about a mer-person, and I like the idea that their coming together would have a mythic size to it. And in talking about it, it just felt right. Where at some point, yeah, I want to see Rhys Darby as a merman. We get to have Warner Discovery throw a bunch of money at us to make Rhys Darby into a mer-person.

I believe Jenkins also made a comment before that WBD/Max wanted Ed and Stede reunited by the third episode (can't find the exact interview, if it exists), and he has spoken before that they were not going to draw out the reunion so they could actually develop the relationship. For example,

And he and Stede come back together at the end of that dream sequence. How did you decide to reunite them so early in the season? You don't drag it out. Jenkins: I think it would suck to have to sit through a season and then have to invent all these reasons they don't meet up. The show is them navigating each other. That's the meat of the show. The first season is them realizing they have these feelings, and trying to figure out what to do with them. The second season is them being a little bit more mature and figuring out, "What do we do? Now that we've had these feelings, we've broken up, we've gotten back together." What does it mean to be in a relationship with somebody that you have these feelings [for]? It's the thing where you're in your 20s or 30s and you're like, "Well, should we move in together?" They have to make up some time because neither of them have been in a functional relationship before.

In an 8 episode season, episode 3 would be the limit on a reunion to allow time for relationship solidification (though not completion), in particular since the moment they lay eyes on each other would be positioned best as an episode climax. It's not just a loss of Merstede, either, with this point: to get Ed and Stede reunited in Ep 3, the entire escape plan, with Stede putting his crew's safety ahead of his own mourning and grief, we would have lost one of the greatest character pieces we have for Stede in the series, in order to shuffle him off the ship quicker to reunite with Ed on some beach.

It also needs to be said: keeping the "they actually tossed Ed off the ship" point would have undermined Lucius doing the same damn thing in Ep 5 (just two and a half episodes later in runtime!) and realizing he didn't feel better for it. Like, was it just going to start turning into a running joke where someone new shoves Ed off the ship every episode? Yeah, that mutiny point was cut early. Lucius is a more prominent and developed character than most of the cast (including Izzy, ffs), and something needed to be addressed with Lucius and Ed's relationship (which seems to be the biggest loss of Ep 6, not a stupid makeover plot), and the point fit better with Lucius.

Without further confirmation, it appears that the "threw him off the ship" and reuniting elsewhere was early discussion with the breaking of S2 and didn't make it far enough to influence the season as it appears within canon.

Now some comments on episodes 4 and 5 since I think some conclusions are being drawn that shouldn't be:

The two votes in Ep 4 (the one offscreen at the beginning and the one offscreen just after the end) aren't there to be thought of too literally. The crew is fractured at the beginning of Ep 4, so their vote is fractured. We don't see the vote; we don't know anyone's vote for certain (except for Izzy); we can't infer that it was actually unanimous (Fang and Buttons wouldn't go for it, I think); we don't know whether Stede voted (I think this unlikely as he was leaving it up to the crew); we don't even know for certain there actually was a tie (there were 9 crew present in the voting scene since Buttons was on deck with Ed, so a tie in that case wasn't possible). This isn't a taut realistic pirate political thriller where we're supposed to track the votes in excrutiating and follow the switches as Ed is finally allowed back onto the ship with the second vote. The crew is fractured at the beginning of the episode (with the vote as part of this illustration), they work through some of their issues and come back together as one crew during the duration of the episode after working through some of their distrust and anger (while Ed and Stede have their reconcilation in a low-stakes situation onshore), and they allow Ed back, bringing home Stede's statement during the first vote: "We don't just banish people, do we? That's not us. Let's give him some time, perhaps to rebound a bit."

(One paragraph aside: In that initial vote scene, Stede briefly approached Izzy as possible support for Ed, and he didn't find it, but the comment about Izzy saving Ed's body is not there to be thought of too much since that is all we know and any conclusion is instant headcanon territory: we don't know how determined the crew was to toss Ed's body overboard, and we don't know how quickly Izzy said to keep the body aboard, and we don't know if he was the only one to think it, just voicing it first. In the end, The Revenge was dead in the water, and what was the in-universe point of keeping Ed's body in a secret compartment? This is a piece of fridge logic: the line is there to give Stede a flimsy excuse to include Izzy, and Ed's body was kept there for the mythic reunion. The line serves its purpose, and that's enough. With the scene as a whole, again, it's symbolic of where Izzy is. Izzy is isolated and forgotten during the vote, and he's isolated and mostly forgotten about the rest of the episode, and the episode flows through with the crew working together to reach out and show kindness to someone in their orbit in distress (both Izzy and Ed). (And, look, I'm avoiding a bigger rant on how Izzy concealed his actions on purpose and projected a figure that was easier to take pity on.))

Now, back to Ed! With the voting, not only does it reflect the crew's journey through the episode, it also makes sense that an initial gut reaction (the vote at the beginning of ep 4) can differ from feelings after being removed from a tense situation and emotions have some time to process/start processing (the vote that happened between eps 4 and 5). With Jim and Archie, who were most vocal in removing Ed, we saw in Ep 4 that they felt extreme guilt about the mutiny, and by mid-ep 5, they were pretty chill about Ed being around and were moving on with their lives.

Keep in mind also that S2 does not exist in a vacuum: Ed interacted with the crew in S1! This is a thing that happened! He was chill in that ep 5-8 happily-sailing-together phase. He was open and available. He told them ghost stories. He introduced them to fuckeries. He hung out with them as equals. He was just one of the bros with them during that Jack business, and it didn't seem odd to anyone. They were upset when Stede said Ed was leaving. In S2, the crew wondered if he was "better" because thanks to S1, they knew Ed was not acting normally for Ed (though pretty normally for a pirate captain per Archie). They already had a fondness for Ed going into S2, so he didn't have to build anew a relationship with them to have earned any "love" or "family" lines when he was already in their family unit, co-captaining with Stede (for like a minute, but still!). There was nothing sudden or weird on the crew forgiving Ed and continuing as before. The crew did their awkward therapy and bonding activity, and Ed did his awkward apology, and it was all better than the culture any of them were raised in. Ed was a man who was nice to them and treated them kind, went through a roughpatch** (that at least some of them had to have figured out was a suicide-by-proxy situation... like, he told Izzy directly?!), and who tried to make amends, and that was enough.

An early decision to possibly have the crew throw Ed overboard didn't influence any of this, and it's not a cut plot point that was missed.

** (and no, Ed did not "torture" the crew; he was a shitty boss but a standard pirate captain, just pushing them harder than usual, but not enough to be remarkable (see Archie's reactions), and with a sudden-and short- escalation of the suicide-by-proxy set up. Izzy laughed at Ed and called him a coward, and I think the rest of the crew is better than that)

[tabsters]

*taps mic* testing testing I have an announcement to make

okay so uhhhhh how do i say this

to put it briefly: I need beta readers for this story that I'm writing.

I'm currently in the process of writing a book. like an actual book. and it's my very first time writing an actual book, and I am currently going through the various highs and lows of being a writer. I don't plan on actually publishing this thing any time soon—maybe in a few years when I'm financially independent and have much more writing experience. however, this is a story I've been thinking about telling for about a year, and I really want to ensure that it's the best it can be.

some of my older mutuals will already know about my extensive lore involving my zodiac characters, and I'm sorry to say that this story is not about them. my ideas for my those characters have unfortunately stagnated and not really gone anywhere. I don't really know how long it'll take for me to become interested in them again. however, this story that I'm writing is set in the same universe as the zodiacs, and some of them will be briefly referenced.

now, what is my book about?

its title is The Many Masks of Chau Huynh.

"In a world where demons and angels and gods solely hold all the capabilities of magic, humans are compelled to take magic by force. Everybody knows that the only way to get magic is to fight a demon or an angel, take the energy that flows through them, and grow ever stronger. But only the most power hungry would deign to do this.

Welcome to Hunter Society, an organization made up of the most power hungry assassins, spies, hitmen, and mercenaries the world has ever seen. They operate in the shadows of every country—some motivated by the sole promise of money, some motivated purely by the thrill of the job. All are prodigies. All are very, very dangerous. After all, it is likely they have fought forces of nature for their own gain. Who would dare to challenge them?

Demons and humans have been at odds for centuries. Demons have loathed humans for killing their brethren for sport and for power. Humans feel the same. But what rarely ever comes to light is this: humans have been taking credit for the accomplishments of demons for thousands of years.

History is made by the winners. In human museums all across the continent of Astralis sits art made by demons—elaborate paintings, decorated sculptures, shining pieces of jewelry. They stand there, akin to the spoils of war.

Chau Huynh plans to force this entire system to a screeching halt. Raised by demons, Chau Huynh considers themselves barely human at all. Their heritage lies with demons. They will do anything to gain recognition from their demonic brethren.

Even if it means planning the biggest heist the Kingdom of Hydrokhoos has ever seen.

Two years to accomplish this mission. Countless pieces of art to locate. Four Hunters to help them achieve their goal.

They will make sure they succeed, no matter the cost."

i realize that I am actually shit at writing summaries, so I hope you'll forgive me.

there will be 60 chapters in total, with an additional prologue and epilogue. each chapter will alternate between the five POVs of the five main characters. the themes that I plan to address in this book are gender roles, life and death, identity, and family.

I don't really have any other means of uploading my work, so I will be using AO3. chapters will update weekly, on friday.

please, please, please, do not go easy on me with your comments. I know I am a good writer, but I am not the best writer. there are many flaws that I can't pick out by myself. I need other people to point out what I can improve on, what I can fix, what I can develop further.

(I mean, compliments also wouldn't hurt though lolol)

the AO3 link is here. the prologue is uploaded, and the first chapter will be uploaded this friday. I will also be posting weekly updates on Tumblr. if you'd like to be a beta reader for my story, you can comment on AO3 itself, or you can leave comments on my Tumblr update posts. again, please tell me what I can fix and what I can improve on.

much apologies for tagging you guys: @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @cryptidwithaninternetconnection @filijester @maiawhimsicalt @illumiiiz @sweet-star-cookie @addrianastarflower @probably-a-human-being @stars-and-birds @hecateisalesbian @bloodied-dagger @thegh0st-of-ingrid @hoisinblackcat @starboy2461 @ventiilatte @gvtz-xd @renaorsomething @professionalwaterbender @yourlocalapplejuice @im-just-here-for-the-comics-r18 @iirexenii

if you don't want to be tagged in future posts relating to TMMCH, please let me know!

thank you so much for reading if you've made it this long, and I hope you enjoy my new book!!! - tabs

[pilot-boi]

i am currently asking about the angel au, pop off my dude

Okay

So when I say it was reader led, I mean I created a world and a plot and changed my whole blog theme for a whole month. People sent in asks, and I would answer them as if I was the characters in the story. Through this, the audience slowly revealed the plot and the world

I posted art of all the major characters, drawn in the style of as if they are being surveilled by the Facility (the research place) in the case of people on the outside, or as case reports in the case of the test subjects

The basic idea was that the Brother gods had angels that would do their bidding on Remnant and be the go between for them and humanity. (The gods were more ambivalent in this version, but it doesn’t really come up) The angels also sort of act like the Greek gods do, occasionally inter mingling with humanity to create semi-deific offspring

When the gods leave Remnant and take magic with them, it sent a ripple across the world forever altering everyone who lives there. EVERYONE was combined at a fundamental level with animals, gaining many of their physical traits and instincts. MANY more traits than Faunus’ one. For example, Ruby is a wolf hybrid and she has the hindquarters, tail, ears, little snoot, and paw pads/claws on her fingers

The angels also left with the gods, but because they weren’t fully immortal they were sort of banished to another realm. A sort of in between dimension where they can observe but not directly interfere. The audience are actually these angels!

The real problem comes from the humans/angel half breeds

Centuries passed and the bloodlines become more and more diluted. Salem, who was a little girl at the time of the cataclysm, is now an old woman. (She’s a snake hybrid so her lifespan was greatly increased. She’s had to watch everyone she loves die)

Over the centuries she was able to accrue a large amount of wealth and influence, so she starts researching the gods. And when that falls apart, she starts researching the angels. Eventually she finds out that their descendants are still around, although it’s been so long that they haven’t had abilities or wings for centuries

She puts in more money, time, and research and eventually figures out how to identify the people with latent angel DNA. And how to bring their traits to the forefront

Ironwood becomes involved at this point, seeing the program as a good way to create soldiers. Salem is just using him, but he doesn’t really care. Their first test subjects are prisoners on death row, people who if they went missing nobody would care. Hundreds of prisoners die in the Facility from failed transformations. Tyrian is the first one to survive, and the process is perfected with Hazel

(By transformation I mean multiple wings, floating rings of eyes, maws of teeth and eyes, that sort of thing. The gods angels were FULL biblically accurate)

But they have their own opinions. They’re adults. They’re incredibly strong and useful, but Salem needs minds she can mold. So she starts “recruiting” children

Cinder, Roman, Neo, Mercury, and Emerald all less than willingly join their ranks. They’re all children when they’re kidnapped, and it’s been at least fifteen years for most of them by the time the plot actually starts

The final recruit is Jaune Arc, Salem’s own grandson. He’s the perfect candidate, her own family, trusting and with latent angel traits to boot. He vanishes from his home, has his memories wiped (the only one to do so since the others don’t have a home to remember) and joins their ranks

The plot begins when one of Ironwood’s other projects, Project Achilles aka star athlete Pyrrha Nikos, makes friends with Raphael.

Salem can’t call him Jaune in case his memories come back, and the scientists only refer to them all by case number. The other angels and other employees (Pyrrha, Pietro, Penny) call him Jaune

Salem doesn’t like that Raphael is getting close to someone else, because that means he might start thinking for himself. So she has Pyrrha killed. This makes Jaune lose it and have his mind wiped AGAIN, this time of all memories of Pyrrha

And this is the final straw for Pietro Polendina. Penny is caught in the crossfire and grievously injured. And when he’s sent to check on Jaune after he’s wiped, he doesn’t remember Pyrrha. So a break out happens, and Jaune Arc Test Subject Extraordinaire arrives on Ezra Ozpin’s porch

That’s where the plot begins at least. I can’t summarize all of it, and there’s a BUNCH of stuff I missed, but that’s the beginning. If you want to read it, you can either go through the faau tag, or go to the AO3 link below

And I’d love to hear your thoughts :]

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

night light

this is based on this post by @pepsicurtis

read on ao3

It was ridiculous, frankly. Ponyboy was the one who needed someone next to him to sleep, not Soda. Yet, Soda couldn’t stop tossing and turning. Part of it was to do with the fact he had no idea where his brother was, that Ponyboy could be anywhere in the country. 

But as he turned over again, he realized that he missed the weight of someone else in bed beside him. He missed Pony kicking him and flopping all over the bed. Hell, he would rather Ponyboy waking up from a screaming nightmare because that would mean he was safe. 

The first night, Soda slept all of three hours. He dragged himself through his shift at the DX, barely making eye contact with Darry when he got him. 

The second night, he tried the couch. But he kept waking up, thinking he heard the door opening or the phone ringing. Darry tried to talk to him in the morning, asking how he slept. Soda just murmured, “Fine.” Before pulling himself into the shower.

The third night, he tried Darry’s chair. Half the time Darry ended up sleeping there anyway, maybe there was something magic about the chair that made sleep come easier. It didn’t. Soda slept even worse than before. 

“Look at me.” Darry put a hand on Soda’s shoulder and forced him to meet his eyes. “Did you get any sleep?” Soda shrugged. Darry sighed, “Maybe you should stay home today.”

Soda quickly shook his head, “No, we need the money.”

“Soda-”

“I’m going to get dressed.” Soda shrugged Darry’s hand off his shoulder. 

He knew it hurt Darry, but every time Soda looked at his oldest brother, he saw Darry hitting Pony and their little brother running out the door. Both of them were struggling. And Soda didn’t even let himself lean on him, he couldn’t. Because he knew the second he let Darry comfort him, Soda would forgive him. He didn’t want to forgive him, not yet at least.

Until the fourth night. 

It was midnight. Soda was trying to sleep in his bed again. He had Pony’s pillow hugged to his chest, blankets tucked tight around him. Yet sleep wasn’t anywhere close. He didn’t think he’d felt that alone in a very long time. So he finally forced himself out of bed and padded down the hall to Darry’s bedroom. With his pillow clutched to his chest, he felt so much like a child. 

He remembered being a kid, before Pony was able to talk. He and Darry used to share a bedroom and they would stay up talking. Soda used to be able to make Darry laugh so hard he got a headache. That didn’t happen so much anymore.

As always, Darry’s bedroom door was cracked open. Soda nudged it open. In the light from the streetlight, he saw Darry lying on his back, fast asleep. Soda crept in and sat down on the floor next to Darry’s bed. He laid down, curling his legs to his chest. With the sound of his brother breathing, he thought he would be able to sleep. No such luck. 

“You really gonna sleep there?” Darry’s voice was soft in the dark room.

“It’s comfy,” Soda lied. Darry was silent for a long moment. “I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I.” The admission surprised Soda. “Soda, get your ass up here.”

With the permission given, Soda quickly climbed into the bed, hoping Darry wouldn’t change his mind. But he didn’t. Instead, Darry lifted up his arm and let Soda curl against his side. Soda clung to his big brother like he’d been wanting to for days, he pressed his nose against Darry’s throat. 

“I’m scared,” Soda said softly. 

Darry’s arms tightened around him, “Me too, little buddy.”

“Do you think he’s gonna come home?” Soda’s voice broke a little. 

He felt Darry sigh under him, “I don’t know. I really hope so.” Darry’s hand moved in small circles along Soda’s shoulder blades. “I’m sorry, Pepsi Cola. I’m sorry I got angry and I’m sorry I yelled at the two of you and I’m even more sorry that I-I hurt Pony and made him leave.”

He felt Darry starting to loosen his grip on him, but Soda only held him tighter. “I’m not mad.”

“You should be.” Soda didn’t know what to say to that. So instead, he just hiked the blankets up over them. “Soda.”

“Hmm?” 

“Didja hear what I said?”

“Yeah. Just thought it was stupid.” Darry chuckled. It was the closest Darry got to a laugh since Pony and Johnny left. “I really miss him, Dar.”

“Me too, little buddy. It doesn’t feel like home without him here.” 

Soda sat up and looked down at his big brother, “He’s going to come back, right? Because if he doesn’t-” Tears started to well in his eyes and he found himself being quickly pulled back into Darry’s arms. He cried softly, clenching his fists into Darry’s shirt as if afraid he was going to leave too. 

“He will,” Darry said. “He’s going to come home.” It was a promise Darry couldn’t make, but at that moment, Soda didn’t care. For a second, he let himself be a kid again. He let himself believe that Darry could do anything, that everything was going to be okay as long as his brother was there.

“Okay.” Soda’s voice broke. “Because I don’t think we’re going to be okay if he doesn’t.”

“I know.” Darry pressed a kiss to his head. “I know.” 

Soda slept soundly that night and he knew Darry did too. Even though his dreams were filled with Ponyboy and Johnny, they were kinder than the previous nights’ imaginings. There was no blood, not bruises.

In the morning, Soda made them both coffee and packed Darry’s lunch. When they parted ways for work, Darry left Soda with a long embrace and a squeeze to the back of his neck. It was more than enough to keep Soda’s spirits up the rest of the day.

That night, Soda slept in Darry’s room again. Darry didn’t say a word about it, he just smiled.

[moons-br]

Domestic team demolition polycule moments

Ship: Natsu x Erza x Gray x Lucy

(Intended to be romantic, but like anything I write it can be taken in a qpr way. Other ships are implied as well as are some characters mentioned that were not tagged)

I do have plans to write some fics based on these ideas later on but i just want to share them here and now.

Playing house

I think some time after the Alvarez arc, Erza, Natsu, Lucy, and Gray moved into a house together. The house is located near the guildhall, yet it was sufficiently remote from the bustling town to provide them with a peaceful environment. The four of them (and Happy) would switch between staying at Lucy's, Gray's, and Natsu's place and it was just easier to all live together.

The house would be pretty big, as it had the combined income of four super strong wizards and Natsu's little money hoard. It would have plenty of space and rooms (one main bedroom and a room for each of them, one bedroom for Happy, a bedroom for Wendy and Carla, and a spare room for guests).

I think that Natsu's room would be where he holds most of his hoard, all this stuff from past jobs, things he thinks his partners would like as gifts, etc., etc.

Erza's rooms would be similar, a place where she is safe to keep all the things she likes that aren't just in her dorm or magic subspace. It's probably one of the bigger rooms due to how much she has.

Lucy's room would be an office and small library; she likes to have a little peace when writing, after all.

Gray's room would probably be the smallest but also have its own cooling lacrima so it can be as cold as he wants it without dealing with Lucy complaining.

I think their bedroom would be massive, with a huge bed in the corner to keep one side always protected, and it would be an organized mess. Natsu always knows where everything is in the room, even when things are thrown around into piles. Lucy loses things the most due to being so used to things being organized.

Drinking

Natsu is pretty much unaffected by alcohol to me (all the dragon slayers are, for that fact). So he is the designated "dealing with drunk idiots" person. Not that he minds much because he gets to fret over his pack-mates and care for them, which really warms his heart.

Lucy is a silly drunk; she also becomes very clingy. Wanting to cling to Natsu and drag him along everywhere she goes.

Gray just wandered and liked to sit in the cold even more than normal; this becomes a problem if he is allowed to wander around and doesn't come home. This puts everyone into a panic.

Erza gets tired and just likes to sleep the more liquor she has in her system. She will go from being unfiltered to sleeping like a rock in ten minutes.

All together, it's like herding cats for Natsu to drag them all home, not like he wasn't used to this before they all lived together. He would normally bring them all to their respective lodgings or just bring them all to Lucy's place. It took him a little time to get a proper bed in his house for them all to sleep there, but once that was in place, Natsu always brought them home to take care of them.

Natsu also likes helping with their hangovers. Lucy needs a cold shower and then some food and tea to help her, Gray needs black, cold coffee, and Erza needs lots of food and tea. It's one of the few times Natsu cooks for them, as he also makes them all breakfast to help them out. He just likes being a good pack-mate and helping the people he loves.

Sleeping aragments

Something that has always held over from missions is sleeping in shifts. Even in the safety of their own homes, it's something ingrained in them all from the trauma of their childhoods and their adulthood's.

Gray almost always takes the first shift. He naturally falls asleep later than the other three, so it just made sense for him to take first watch. He uses this time as his designated brood time, where he can just sit in the quiet and the soft sounds of his partners sleeping. It's done wonders for his mental health because he knows he's safe but is able to be alone with them.

Erza and Natsu switch who does second and third watch based on how they are feeling that night. Normally Erza takes second and Natsu takes third. Erza is normally easier to wake up after only a few hours of sleep, and Natsu likes waking Lucy up.

Lucy takes the last watch. She naturally wakes up early, and after a few watches, she started waking up when the fourth watch began anyways (much to her own disappointment. Sometimes she wants to sleep in but just can't). Lucy now likes waking up early; it gives her plenty of time to read or write without the others being annoying, and she is able to cook for them, which she loves doing.

Never empty home

Their house is never empty. Wendy and Carla are over all the time. The only reason they don't live with the four of them is because she wants a little freedom at times as she comes into her teenage years and later adulthood. Their house is a safe place for her to run to whenever she needs it. (It's not like there aren't other places she can run to, too. The whole guild cares about the youngest dragon slayer).

Levy likes to pester Lucy in her home, taking it as a good chance to read her stories and gossip about what the two ladies have found. Gajeel will often follow after Levy, much to the Iron Dragon Slayer's dismay. Being in Natsu's den feels weird even if he's welcomed because they are family.

Juvia and Lisanna like to visit and will stay for afternoon tea. As much as the house is chaotic, it is ever relaxing to be there.

Cana will loiter in their house all the time to annoy Lucy and Gray, and often Loki will summon himself to join her in pestering the celestial and ice wizards out of affection.

[shhtickerbook]

Hi, I really like the Wonka movie and love the idea of Willy being a regressor. Could you do a scenario where he's at his shop but suddenly gets trigger and regresses?

Bittersweet

thank you so much for the request! Sorry it took a while.

Trigger warning for panic attacks, mild injury description and detailed descriptions of a trauma trigger

This fic takes place where all of the The Scrub crew are all aware of Willys regression, post movie. Also in my own AU, Their found family decide to remain close to eachother and stay in town to help with the new shop / factory.

At last the rebuilt shop had been restored, it had taken time , much longer than it had previously. For a while Wonka could hardly bare to look at it, seeing everything he worked so hard for so destroyed. But with the help of his friends and new family, they managed to restore it to her former glory. It was even improved beyond its previous, with the chocolate cherry blossom bearing a prismatic array of leaves and petals. It was somehow even more perfect than before.

Everything was going perfect that day, sales were inclining everyday. Abacus becoming chief financial advisor of the store, with the Money he had earned he was able to move both his Wife and Granddaughter to come live with him here. They were all thriving brilliantly with this new future to come.

Noodle was attending a grammar school now, but every day she would come racing to the store to help out. She was busy stocking the shelves of chocolate boxes, when she saw Willy strolling down the lane, cane swinging. Sometimes he just had to take it all in around him again, grinning at this dream he’d made come true.

“We’ve only got a few of the deluxe boxes on display Willy, they were pretty popular and they probably won’t last too long.”

Willy hopped over to take a look, the truffles in question had been increasingly popular. But it shouldn’t be a problem, he had a machine upstairs that was busy pumping out more. They had been closed for some refurbishment for a little while, but at last reopening to the public, and he couldn’t be more excited. Willy made sure to make some a quick patrol around the shop, checking in with each of his friends who were working in their own stations.

“Willy get a look at this! It’s done”

Piper called over in a sing song voice, she was busy tinkering away at a panel by the moat that surrounded the chocolate tree. Before there was just the small boat that mechanically spun around in a circuit, but this time Piper and Willy had put their heads together to something much more magic. With her mastery in plumbing, she turned a wheel until a pipe burst open into the moat. Wonkas finest melted chocolate streaming out, this time the boat needing no mechanism to cycle around. It was a perfect chocolate river spiralling around the tree, Willy whooping in excitement.

“It’s perfect!”

With clasped hands and a grin, before Piper put her arm around the chocolatier with a firm pat on the back. It was great timing too, the clock rang for 9:00am. Abacus checking his own pocket watch to be sure before calling out.

“Alright, any minute now we’re going to be open to the public again. And if my findings are correct I think it will be even busier than last time! Oh and noodle, Uniform?.”

He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, noticeably lacking the blush pink outfit. Noodle just chuckling before holding up her bag, a flash of pink fabric poking out like a flag. It had been Willy who designed such garments, everyone at first was a little unsure with how… flamboyant they were. But they quickly warmed up to them, even Abacus.

Willy just couldn’t wait for the customers to arrive, sitting himself by the glass to peer through into the gallery gourmet. In the distance seeing a cloud or people making their way up. With a smile he stood up, adjusting his new scarf over his coat, before opening the front doors.

“Welcome one and all again to the renewed Wonkas chocolate!”

-

The new grand opening was going splendidly, the chocolate river canal proving to be quite the money maker too. Only a sovereign a ride, and it created quite a line for it that wound around the shop. Which meant those waiting in line had a perfect view of everything they had on sale.

Willy had the opportunity to unveil one of his newest creations too, the everlasting gobstopper. A hard candy In which never gets smaller, no matter how much and how long you sucked on it. (Lofty had been testing one for nearly a month now)

The prismatic coloured candy was stacked into a pyramid in its new display, Noodle working the station. They were making the most money they had ever had, but that didn’t matter much to Willy. What mattered to him was being able to share his joy and magic with those willing to indulge. And this time he didn’t have the chocolate cartel to worry about, his shop was bound to become the star of the Gallery Gourmet.

“Oi Mr Wonka!”

Willy was alerted by a boy tugging on his tail coat, turning to see a familiar face. It was the young shoe shine lad he had been stopped by multiple times on his first day here.

“Where are them swirly chocolate things? Me Mam loves them.”

Willy chuckled, surprised that the boy wasn’t trying to proposition him with a shoe shine or a brush of his coat. He already had chocolate smeared across his mouth, clearly been at the free samples.

“The chocolate truffles I think you’re referring to, are just over by the display over there young man. But try and save some for your Mother though”

Willy pointed his cane in the direction of the now dwindling boxes of truffles. The boy giving him a doff of his cap before turning on heel, Willy returning it with his own top hat. He decided to go check in with Abacus, he was just finishing up with a customer. The cashier ringing joyfully as he dropped coins inside, Abacus just couldn’t believe how much they were making.

“I’d say we’ve already made double of what he did last time Willy, especially with the new gobstoppers.”

Willy grinned, everything just felt so perfect. With the extra money, he planned to raise his friend’s wages. And although she wasn’t aware, Willy had begun to collect a fund. One for Noodle, he had already promised her a lifetime of chocolate. But with the girls smarts and potential, he wanted her to have most in life. The money was for her future, if she wanted to pursue any kind of career. She had done so much for her, he wanted to do the very same for her own future.

Before he could respond, a scream cut through their conversation. The sudden noise startling Willy, almost feeling his stomach drop into his shoes. Over on the other side of the store, a crowd had grown around a young boy. A boy who was red in the face, spluttering and choking. The exact boy that Willy had spoken to just moments ago.

Abacus immediately dropped what he was doing, racing over and pushing through the crowd. Willy knew he should follow, make sure the boy was alright. It was his store, the owner.

But he didn’t, he stood there completely catatonic.

No, no. Not again, it can't happen again.

In preparation for the new opening, Willy had obsessively checked and taste tested each product. So much so that he’d gone to bed with an exceptionally sore stomach. Everything was safe, he was sure everything was safe. Abacus, Lottie and Noodle were all kneeling by the young man, Before Abacus called out.

“Call for an ambulance-“

The shop itself was spinning, and it wasn’t just the chocolate canal ride. Willy was sure that the ground itself was falling away beneath him. An ambulance? Before it had just been multicoloured hair growth or green skin pigmentation, nothing life threatening. Nothing ever in need of any medical attention.

What had he done? It’s not as if the chocolate cartel could be involved like last time. It was his fault, it had to be his fault. He felt sick, face turned white as a sheet. He lost track of how long he’d been staring, but Noodle had noticed him through the crowd and immediately ran to her elder brother figure once the boy was being taken away.

“Willy? Willy!”

She tried to get his attention, but the chocolatiers eyes were fixed ahead. His lips were trembling with his head shaking, it was scaring her. She tried her best to reassure him, knowing what he’d be thinking.

“It’s okay, Willy you didn’t-“

He broke eye contact with the scene, looking down at her with his head shaking even more violently. His eyes flooded with tears as he began to step backwards, almost like a frightened animal.

“No, nono. Not again it can’t happen- won’t happen again”

He started mumbling out almost psychotically, flinching away from noodle when she tried to touch him. Both arms up with his hands and fingers flicking in panic. It was all his fault, that young boy might even die because he had done something wrong. He had no one to blame this time, what would mamma think?

He couldn’t hear anything around him anymore, it was just static. Everything was spinning and blurring, stumbling and tripping over things as he continued to backtrack. He needed to get away, he was a coward. A coward in which had probably killed or seriously injured a child with his stupid dreams.

Noodle tried again desperately to get his attention, waving a hand in his face. It was terrifying, he didn’t look like himself. He just continued to mutter and whimper to himself, his head shaking so hard that it may pop off his shoulders. She tried to hold onto his hand again but he recoiled away in disgust like she was diseased. No matter what she was saying, it wasn’t getting through.

“Willy! You’re scaring me, let me explain-“

But he wasn’t listening, holding his hands close up to his chest protectively. His cane clattering loudly to the ground, now without his mobility aid as he kept stepping back.

He needed to get away, now. Gasping for air, he stumbled backwards, feeling for the door into the backroom of the store. But he felt into midair instead, losing his balance and crashing into one of the shelves instead.

He yelped out in surprise, the back of his head hitting wood as a one of the glass jars wobbled from its shelving before crashing down over him. The further stimulation only worsening Willys condition. Noodle screamed and attempted to grab onto him before he fell, but couldn’t in time. Shards of glass and candy fell about him like snowflakes, But Wonka hardly noticed, far too panicked and overstimulated to care about any pain.

The commotion attracted even more attention in the shop, customers looking over to see the owner sitting in a pile of glass shards. As quickly as it happened, Willy somehow managed to get back to his feet, splintering his hands and arms with the glass in panic. In a rush he managed to pull open the back door and escape from everything. Behind him he could hear people calling his name, but unable to differentiate whether it was his friends or angry rioting customers. Noodle just stood there, not sure if she should follow. Deciding instead to enlist some support before attempting to talk with him like this.

Willy’s legs felt like jelly, so he didn’t make it very far. Falling into a heap on the floor, before gasping desperately for air. He couldn’t breathe properly, tears pouring down his face before he burst into sobs. Every single terrible outcome and scenario was racing around Wonkas brain. Did he not check the ingredients correctly? What if the boy wasn’t the only one in distress? They would for sure close down the store, maybe even arrest him. It was all his fault, it was happening all over again and there was nothing he could do about it.

-

Once the child was loaded into the ambulance, the employees of Wonkas Chocolate thought it best to close up shop for today. Abacus had spoken with the ambulance attendant, who had assured him that the boy was going to be alright. It was a huge relief to everybody, and although fellow customers seemed a little unsettled by the event, it was no where near like the angry mob from before. The only irritation coming from the announcement of their early closure. Both Abacus and Piper were guiding shoppers out the front door when Noodle approached both of them, looking extremely distressed.

“It’s Willy, he’s- he’s not okay”

-

Wonka was still so deep into a panic attack, so that when the door opened and his friends entered, he hardly noticed.

Noodle gasped at the sight of him, his cut up hands from the glass had begun to bleed horribly over his hands and arms, ruining his velvet jacket. The chocolatier was curled up into a ball, hyperventilating between cries.

Noodle couldn’t help but hold onto Pipers hand, she wasn’t good with blood. Benz squeezed her hand back reassuringly, they all too often forgot she was still a child herself. So Abacus approached first, kneeling in front of the panicked boy.

“Willy, it’s alright. It’s not what you think. The boy is going to be okay.”

But It didn’t seem like Abacus’ words were getting through, He had to physically take ahold of Willys hands before he would any pay attention, his bloodshot eyes snapping up. It hurt his heart to see him like this.

“He— is. Okay?”

Willy managed to choke out between gasps, Noodle pulled away from piper to sit on the floor too, a hand comfortingly on his knee as she looked with concern. Willy Wonka was the strongest person she’d ever met, seeing him like this, it was scary.

“Yeah Willy, he just had a peanut allergy-“

Willy blinked hard, shaking his head again.

“Bb-ut I mmade a sign- i forgot to put them up?”

He began to spiral yet again, he did remember creating such labels, as it was Noodles idea. He thought it terrible luck for those who had such afflictions. But he wanted to include everyone to enjoy his creations as much as he could. With plenty of his other treats being free from such ingredients. They were even placed on the other side of the store especially to reduce any cross contamination. Had he forgotten to properly label something?

“Seems the young chap just wasn’t paying too much attention, just grabbing at any free sample he could find. It’s not your fault.”

Abacus gently rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb, before sucking through his teeth at the state of them. Willy was struggling to process this new information, his body and brain had already accepted the fact that this was all his fault.

“You need to breath Willy, in and out”

Noodle demonstrated, breathing in and blowing gently out onto his hot teary face. Willy looked up, still taking in short shallow breaths. He attempted to follow her guide, but halfway fell back into the hyperventilation.

“It’s okay buddy, try again”

Piper had come to kneel down too, smiling sadly at the sorry sight of him. It was strange seeing such a positive character so distraught. It ended up taking quite few minutes for the breathing exercises to help, with Willy leaning against Abacus as he did his best to follow his friends instructions.

At last the hyperventilation had slowed but Willy was still shaking. Biting down hard on his lower lip, tears continuing to cascade down his cheeks silently. Clicking his tongue sympathetically, Abacus pat his shaking knee. It was clearly going to take a little while for Willy to accept that this wasn’t his fault.

“You’ve had a bit of a fright, haven’t you?”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his overreaction. But even with the reassurance that the boy would be alright, the anxiety was still lingering like little bugs racing up and down his skin. He was also beginning to feel that fuzzy sensation in his head again. It was like the scare had flipped a switch in his head, so he just nodded mournfully.

“Oh you poor lad”

Abacus tutted sympathetically, turning his attention to the injuries too. Gently lifting his arms to peer at them, surface wounds thankfully yet still very painful looking.

At least those could be easily fixed. Then turned to Piper with a knowing look, both of them having the same suspicion of his seemingly regressive headspace.

“We best get him upstairs to the flat, would you mind Benz?”

The woman nodded, before patting Noodle on the shoulder. Who was still staring at Willy with concern and anxiety.

“Hey noodle, how about you go help Larry and Lottie wrap up the store? We’ll take care of Willy”

Noodle wasn’t sure at first, looking back at her friend who was still in quite an upset state. but she was a little grateful for the opportunity. Seeing Willy so traumatised and bloody wasn’t an easy thing for a 13 year old to look at, especially when it was somebody she loved so much. So she quickly lunged forward to hug him tight, bearing in mind to be gentle around his arms. Even in the hug she could feel him shaking still, Willy only managing to weakly return it. When she stood up to leave she hesitated for a moment, watching as Abacus helped him onto his jittering legs.

“We’ll get him all sorted dear, you go help with the store..”

Abacus reassured her, Nodding after one more hesitant glance. She trusted them to look after Willy, they all cared for him so.

“Now then, let’s get you upstairs.”

Piper held the chocolatier up, watching how his legs were knocked kneed like a newborn fawn. Holding an arm over him to help him move on forward.

“Mmsorry”

Willy mumbled. Although he could sense the obvious regression taking its hold, he felt like such a silly burden. But when he they came up to his spiral staircase to his flat, he couldn’t help but moan. His stupid legs felt completely useless, almost like they were made from gummy candy.

“It’s okay buddy, but I don’t think these stairs are gonna be the smartest plan for you right now”

Before he could respond, he yelped as he was lifted up, then being settled on the plumbers hip. Seeing her grin mischievously as she held him steady. Willys face burning in surprise, but the action just made him feel even more fuzzy.

“How can someone who eats mainly chocolate be so little? He’s like a bird?”

Piper hushed over Willy to Abacus, who just chuckled at the comment.

“Little I think is definitely the correct adjective for right now, the poor boy's had such a fright"

There was a part of Willy that wanted to object to the accusation that he was feeling little, but even he knew they were likely right. He needed it terribly. And now that the adrenaline of everything was fading, he could truly feel the pain in his arms. Eyes widening in fear when taking actual sight of them, he didn’t like blood.

So he just squeezed his eyes shut right, pushing his head into pipers shoulder. The woman in question looking over at Abacus at the action, lips pursed at just how adorable this was. If it weren’t for such a bad situation, she would be skipping in joy. Why Willy had decided to implement such a fancy staircase (when he often needed his cane) was beyond them. Sometimes the chocolatier forgot about practicality, always wanting the extravaganza.

-

At last they made it upstairs to a landing, Abacus opening the mahogany door into Wonkas flat. The inside was extremely cosy, its interior inspired from his old canal boat home from when he was a child. A sloped curved ceiling with lots of warm colours and carved wooden decor. It was pretty simple and homey, the kitchenette and lounge taking up the room. A very large window looked down below to the gallery gourmet, with a small workshop set up against it, an ornate machine churning out singular chocolates. Then finally Willy’s bed up a few steps to an upper level of the room itself.

There was were two other doors on either side of the reasonably size room, one normal one leading to a bathroom. The other door abnormally small? Only around a metre in height. But that didn’t matter just now, the pair walking further inside before Piper settled Willy down on the couch.

“There we go, home and safe now.”

She comforted, hating how fragile and anxious he seemed. The presence of his home brought some comfort though, Willy reaching out to stroke the ribbed corduroy fabric of his lounge. Not before Abacus quickly lifted his hands away in alarm.

“Ah-ah! I’m sorry Willy but I will not have you smearing blood into that furniture”

He chastised only gently, the pale pink fabric being very easy to stain, and even harder to wash out.

“Wasn’t gonna..”

Willy mumbled, but his eyes did widen when he peered at his injured hands again. They were starting to really sting now, and he could catch the shiny glint of glass that was still imbedded.

“I should hope not, that chaise lounge just so happens to be one of my favourite pieces of decor in this accommodation”

A sharp pertinent voice cut through, not before Piper let out a yelp in surprise. Standing between them was a very small orange man, who just rolled his eyes at the reaction.

“Oh please Ms Benz, you have squealed many times at my presence. I’m tired of being revered like a mouse around a circus elephant”

The Oompa Loompa was holding an empty teacup in hand, he was only departing from his own room to tidy it away. Not expecting the flat to suddenly be busy with uninvited guests.

“Well if I’m the ‘circus elephant’ in that analogy, I’d be careful I don’t send you through that window with the kick of my boot.”

Piper threatened, stamping her foot in his direction. She wasn’t so keen on Lofty, his uptight attitude drove her up the wall. And she still hadn’t got used to his small presence, maybe it was because when he was a child she used to have nightmares and a very irrational fear of gnomes of all things.

Abacus himself also was a little surprised by the little orange man’s entrance, but was able to behave more tactfully than Piper. He’d only spoken with Lofty very little, the Oompa Loompa preferring much more to stay to himself with his job in the tasting department.

“Now would somebody care to explain what has happened here?”

Lofty came to the front to peer at Willy, grimacing at the sight of his injury. But he was even more curious about the strange manner that Wonka seemed to be in. Willy had tucked his knees to his chest as he anxiously flicked his fingers, he certainly wasn’t his usual overly positive and often irritating self.

“We had a bit of a situation in the shop, poor lad went into anaphylaxis. He’s going to be alright, but Willy here got quite the fright”

Lofty raised his eyebrows, it still didn’t quite explain the bloody arms though. But the possibility of that lounge being stained was his main concern.

“I’ll go fetch my first aid kit before he gets blood on anything else in here that I have the slightest attachment to.”

Lofty said with mild disgust before turning on heel to his room. Willy himself still looked pretty miserable, but more exhausted than anything. Piper just wanted to scoop the boy up into her lap and squeeze him tight, although she wasn’t sure if it would be appreciated right now. The group was then startled for a moment from a noise clearly coming from downstairs, a creaking metal noise.

“BENZ! WE TRIED TO TURN THE CHOCOLATE VALVE OFF BUT ITS NOW STUCK AT MAX PRESSURE”

A whiny yell came out clearly from a distressed Larry chucklesworth who had turned the chocolate river valve in the wrong direction, doubling its pressure as it pumped out melted chocolate.

“For Petes sake! I’m coming you idiot!.”

Piper sighed out in exasperation, pinching her brow. She had specifically told everybody not to touch it, she was still sorting out all the kinks. She did catch a small giggle coming from Willy though, happy to see at least it had made him smile.

“I better go sort out that mess downstairs, you be good for Abacus and that sunburnt gnome”

She leant down and gave him a peck on the cheek, wishing she could spend some more time with the little chocolatier. Turning Willys face bright pink, unable to hide a smile at the affection. As Piper turned to leave, she had to quickly jump at the arrival of Lofty yet again. Whom arms were filled with a leather first aid kit, rolling his eyes at the woman who quite nearly flattened him beneath her boots.

“If you could please move to the floor, I’m not risking anything with that lounge.”

Lofty demanded, Looking up at the two remaining men as best he could from behind the first aid case. Willy obeyed and slid down to the floor, sitting crosslegged. His head was feeling very fuzzy now, and he looked up at abacus with whine, wanting him to sit too.

“I think I’ll just sit here if you don’t mind Lad, I don’t think I could get back up from the floor if I sat down”

Abacus chuckled, perching instead on the couch. But still kept a comforting hand on his shoulder, gently massaging back and forth to soothe him. Lofty had been watching the interaction with a raised brow, something was certainly going on. So as he began to unpack some supplies, he bluntly questioned.

“Alright, if I could be informed of what’s going on right here, it would be very much appreciated. I’m quite positive this reaction is far beyond than a child choking on a peanut, especially with those injuries of which still nobody has explained how they came to be.”

He curtly asked, whilst pulling out some bandages, gentian violet and some tweezers for those glass shards. Abacus awkwardly cleared his throat, looking over at Willy whose face had darkened. Although the Oompa Loompa had been residing with him for a while now, his regression was something that he hadn’t yet disclosed with him. Although all his friends had been amazingly supportive and loving, it was still a very peculiar topic to try and explain. Lofty was already quite judgemental most of the time, what if he found this weird and gross?

Willy brought his knees up to his chest anxiously, staying silent in a panic. He didn’t want Lofty to hate him. But he felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, Abacus smiling kindly.

“Would you like me to explain?”

He suggested, especially since it seemed the boy wasn’t feeling so verbal right now. Willy looked up and thought about it for a moment, before giving him a nod. He didn’t know how to put his words right for this. All the while Lofty has continued to observe the interaction, shoe tapping on the floor impatiently.

“Alright, i believe you should know regardless as you share a residency with Willy. Sometimes when he gets overwhelmed, Mr Wonka finds it a little hard to stay grown.”

Abacus carefully explained to the little orange man across from him, who frowned in confusion.

“Grown? I can’t see any sign of him shrinking in size, he looked to be the same height as before since I last checked.”

The Oompa Loompa positioned both hands into a viewfinder over the chocolatier, nope, still the same size. Abacus couldn’t help but laugh at the misunderstanding, wishing this could be easier to explain.

“No not in physical size, more like he feels a little younger. Where he needs a little extra care and support, like a child.”

At this point Willy wanted to sink through the floor, not daring to check the Oompa Loompas facial expression. Instead picking at the fabric of his slacks, the small bigger part of him wanted to end this conversation and say that Abacus was just talking utter nonsense, but he didn’t have the energy to do so. He was tired, all he wanted was for his arms to stop hurting and for someone to hold him for a while.

“So what you’re saying that Mr Wonka here regresses to infancy when unsettled?”

Lofty questioned the man, it was difficult to discern his tone. After all, most of the time when he spoke it sounded as if you had offended him in some way. But when he looked at the mannerisms and body language of Willy, he certainly seemed very different than usual.

“Well, when you put it bluntly. Yes you’re correct, but I hope that you won’t be too judgemental. This is something Mr Wonka cannot help, and we shouldn’t be cruel about it.”

Abacus’s voice began to become colder as he finished his sentence, it wasn’t something Willy was used to ever hearing, looking up in slight alarm. Abacus was staring down at the Oompa Loompa almost threateningly, daring him to respond. In response, Lofty snorted after a pause.

“Hm, very peculiar I must say, but I suppose he already acts rather immaturely most of the time regardless.”

Was all he said before completely moving on, returning to prepare the first aid equipment. Acting as if Abacus had just requested he pass the sugar over to him. Both Willy and Abacus were surprised by well, the lack of reaction.

“Now then, please take off that coat show me your arms. I need to know what I’m working with here”

Willy paused for a moment, still expecting some kind of response, insult or anything. But let Abacus carefully ease him out of the blood soaked jacket before displaying his arms outwards, with the Oompa Loompas only sign of disgust so far being directed at the injuries.

“Goodness you’ve made quite the mess of yourself haven’t you?”

Abacus nodded in agreement, before wincing when seeing the state of them properly in the light.

“Indeed, he took a bit of a tumble into one of the displays. One of our crystal chocolate jars paying the price.”

Lofty just sighed, typical Wonka behaviour. He’d never met a person so terminally clumsy sometimes and foolish.

“Of course he did, now I’m going to need you to stay very still. I’m going to remove these glass shards before they get infected.”

He held up the tweezers, Willy shrinking away in alarm at the metal instrument. He didn’t want it to hurt. But Abacus rubbed his back supportively, assuring him it would be fine. As promised, Lofty was impeccably careful as he removed each tiny shard from his arms and hands, his very small hands working in his favour for the task. Back in Loompa land he had a friend whom was the islands herbalist, so he only had some experience when it came to medicine.

He placed each glinting piece into a dish by the table, and once satisfied there was none remaining he reached for the little purple bottle.

“This is an antiseptic I assume?”

Lofty questioned the mathematician, handing the violet bottle up to him. The man pulled a face when reading the label, knowing from experience that this stung viciously.

“Alright, this may sting a little”

-

It did in fact sting quite a lot, as soon as Lofty applied the purple tonic. Willy yelping and flinching away. The pain had just begun to settle when they’d reached upstairs, but now it felt as if someone had set a match upon his skin. And with how sensitive he was already feeling, fresh tears began to spill over and he did his best to squirm away.

“Now i understand it hurts, but it will feel a lot worse later if you don’t allow me to finish Mr Wonka”

In the end Abacus ended up having to retreat from the couch, Willy positioning himself into his lap for security from the horrible anti-septic. He was perhaps feeling the smallest he ever had, and even with Lofty there he didn’t have the willpower to mask it. Eventually with enough comforting words and support from Abacus, Lofty had successfully painted either arm and hand with the bright purple medicine.

“See, we’re done now. There was no need for that silly nonsense”

Lofty chastised as he screwed the cap on the glass bottle again, but he still didn’t seem very fussed about the dramatic change in headspace. More irritated by what he deemed was a bit of an overreaction. Next reaching for the roll of bandages, but this time Willy was much more reproachful about offering his arms back over to the Oompa Loompa, scowling at him best he could.

“I don’t appreciate that expression directed at me, I was just going to wrap your arms up. Unless of course you would prefer Mr Crunch to do so?”

He spoke with crossed arms, but found the grumpy expression slightly entertaining. Especially with his forlorn tearstained face which worked against his attempt to be threatening.

“I could if you’d prefer, but that would mean i would need to tip you from my lap to do so.”

Abacus explaining his options, thanking heaven above regardless that the man was very light and he was only losing partial blood flow to his legs.

“But you are certainly not welcome in my own, I’ve been in danger of being crushed once too many times today.”

Willy thought about it for moment, finding the embrace around him far too comfortable to give up quite just yet. So reluctantly pointed at lofty rather rudely.

“He do it”

“Can Lofty do it please would be much politer thank you very much”

He corrected with a firm expression, but began to unroll the bandages regardless. Carefully he applied the bandage around each skinny arm, all the while Willy just back leant into Abacus throughout the process. He was so tired, all he wanted was to sleep. By the time Lofty was finished, the boy was practically half asleep.

“That’s you done now, very brave”

Willy dozily inspected his new bound arms, before letting out a big yawn. Even lofty finding it a little endearing, revealing out a small smile before quickly replacing it with his usual frown.

“I think we best get you tucked up for a little rest, shall we?”

Willy nodded, and reluctantly allowed Abacus to tip him off his lap so he could stand again. The poor gentleman groaned in pain as he stood up, he was certainly far too old for this.

“Mm-head hurts”

Wonka mumbled out, his skull feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool. Infact most of his body was starting to feel very sore and weak.

“Well no wonder it hurts with all that silly crying, but I give you permission to return to that lounge. Now that it’s no longer in danger of being stained by bodily fluids.”

Lofty said distastefully, motioning for Willy to get up and move. Kindly Abacus helping him up to his feet again, which was desperately needed as he had forgotten his cane downstairs in the store.

He practically collapsed back down onto the couch, sighing in relief to finally be lying down. His entire body felt as if it had been put through the laundry ringer at scrubbits. A few moments later he felt Abacus tuck a thick blanket around his frame, the one that had been stretched across his bed.

In his dozing state, he instinctively reached out for something. Face screwing up a little when realising it obviously wasn’t going to be there.

“What on earth are you looking for?”

Lofty questioned, clearly seeing the man feeling around in complete thin air.

“Chester”

Willy mumbled out , he was so tired but he still needed his companion, especially right now. Lofty’s slow blink was practically audible, shaking his head before turning to the mathematician who had busied himself with folding up the velvet jacket. Planning on taking it back personally to soak it out, even though he’d left the laundry business, it still stuck with him.

“Would you mind translating what on earth he is requesting?”

Abacus just smiled, remembering that name very clearly. So he just pointed up at the bed, knowing it would he the most likely location.

“Check underneath the pillow of Mr Wonkas bed.”

With a raised eyebrow and a lot of confusion, the Oompa Loompa reluctantly followed the direction. Only feeling more lost when lifting the pillow and finding the contents beneath.

“Is this some kind of rag?”

He held up a small knitted bird with an extended arm, its head lolling to the side rather unsettlingly. Willy spotted the item immediately though, lifting his own head up from the couch with a whine.

“Chester..”

Loftys confused frown remained, able to put together the clues that this amalgamation of wool must be “Chester” Mr Wonka did seem very concerned about it though, so he quickly handed it over to him. The little bird being clung close to his chest, with its misshapen beak poking out under his chin. It was all so ludicrous, it was just a silly inanimate object.

But he saw how the boy began to settle again at its presence. Eyes closing at last as his breathing became slower and deeper. For the first time since he’d seen the man that afternoon, he looked genuinely at peace. From behind him he heard the accountant approaching, who was holding two cups of tea, one being marginally smaller.

“Think we could both do with one”

Lofty accepted the offer, the pair sitting in the kitchenette. Both of them looking over at the now fast asleep chocolatier on the lounge. A comfortable silence between the two as they just took the time to wind down, the scene would probably look extremely strange to an any outsider if they happened to wander inside. Abacus smiled fondly as he noticed the knitted toucans wing being gently chewed on as Wonka slept.

“Thank you, for being understanding about this. This is a part of him that not many know or care to understand, but I believe it’s something very special to be trusted with”

He said to the Oompa Loompa, who had also been observing the chocolatiers behaviour. It was rather fascinating.

“But, I won’t hold it against you if this is a little too strange for you. This manner of coping is certainly unconventional”

He continued, wanting to assure him. He remembered that Noodle had been a little apprehensive about it all when he first explained the regression to her. And Willy had been extremely firm in the fact that he never wanted to be a burden to anybody or make them feel uncomfortable. Lofty stayed silent for a few moments, draining the cup of tea before answering.

“You are speaking with somebody who comes from a tropical island populated only by 2ft tall orange men. I think you would find good reason to label me as a hypocrite if i were to judge Mr Wonka negatively for this.”

He paused in his statement, looking over again at the boy with the smallest of a smile

“Is it a little peculiar? Definitely, but I suppose we all must learn to be open minded when it comes to things we don’t quite understand yet.

And on one hand, I may find it a little endearing too, at least he’s less irritating than usual, aside from all the tears.”

And with that, he turned again to the man across the table. Nonchalant as always.

“Anyways, how about you go hunting for some of those truffles. I’m sure Wonka always hides them out of my reach”

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn

chapter summary: more business plans, street food, and a fiesta

Chapter six

The next morning, you wake up with a renewed sense of purpose and excitement. After getting ready and gathering your notes and plans for the garage, you drive back to the Diaz house. The sun shines brightly, a stark contrast to the stormy night from two days ago. The drive feels shorter this time, your mind buzzing with ideas.

When you arrive, Sean is already in the garage, tinkering with a car engine. He looks up and smiles as you approach. “Morning! Ready to get started?”

You return his smile, holding up your notes. “Absolutely. I’ve got some great ideas to discuss.”

Sean nods enthusiastically. “Great! Let’s set up in the kitchen. We can grab some breakfast and go over everything.”

Inside the house, the aroma of fresh coffee fills the air. Daniel is sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a bowl of cereal. He looks up with a grin. “Morning! Ready to make some magic happen?”

You laugh, sitting down across from him. “You bet. I’m excited to get started.”

Sean brings over a pot of coffee and pours you a cup. “So, what’s the plan?”

You spread out your notes, detailing your ideas for improving the garage’s business. “First, I think we should focus on marketing. We need to get the word out more, maybe with some local ads and social media. And I was thinking we could offer a discount for first-time customers to attract more people.”

Sean listens intently, nodding. “That sounds like a solid plan. We’ve mostly relied on word-of-mouth so far, but I think it’s time to step it up.”

Daniel chimes in, “And we could make some flyers and hand them out in town. I can help with that after school.”

You smile at his enthusiasm. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. And I was also thinking we could update the garage’s website, make it more user-friendly and show off some of the work we’ve done.”

Sean grins. “I like it. You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

You shrug modestly. “I just want to help you guys succeed. Plus, I love a good challenge.”

Sean’s eyes twinkle with admiration. “Well, we’re lucky to have you on board.”

You and Sean spend the morning discussing various ideas and strategies, making detailed plans for the next steps. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of teamwork and shared excitement. Daniel, having finished his breakfast, listens in, occasionally chiming in with his own ideas.

“Maybe we could also host some community events at the garage,” Daniel suggests. “Like a car wash fundraiser or something. It would get people to come by and see the place.”

Sean nods, clearly impressed. “That’s a great idea, Daniel. We could raise some money and get more people familiar with what we do here.”

You add, “We could partner with local businesses for these events too. Maybe get some sponsorships and cross-promotions going. It would help build a network.”

As the morning progresses, you delve deeper into the logistics of your plans. Sean shows you around the garage, pointing out areas that could use improvement. You take notes, brainstorming ways to optimize the space and improve workflow.

“We could create a more inviting waiting area for customers,” you suggest. “Maybe add some comfortable seating, magazines, and free Wi-Fi. Make it a place where people don’t mind waiting.”

Sean nods thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to do something about that. It’s a great idea.”

Daniel grins. “And we could have a little corner with snacks and drinks. Everyone loves free snacks.”

You laugh. “Absolutely. It’s all about making the customer experience as pleasant as possible.”

By lunchtime, you’ve covered a lot of ground. Sean looks at you with appreciation. “I’m really impressed with all your ideas. This is going to make a huge difference.”

You feel a warm glow at his words. “I’m glad to be able to help. I really believe in what you’re doing here.”

Sean’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes full of unspoken thoughts. “I’m starting to believe in it even more now, thanks to you.”

The shared moment is interrupted by Daniel’s stomach growling loudly. He laughs, rubbing his belly. “Okay, I think it’s officially lunchtime. How about we hit up the local street food market? We can grab some tacos there and hand out flyers while we’re at it.”

You nod, grateful for the break. “Sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to explore more of the town.”

Sean grabs a stack of freshly printed flyers. “Alright, let’s do this.”

The three of you pile into Sean’s old truck and drive to the bustling street food market in the heart of town. The vibrant colors and tantalizing smells greet you as you step out of the truck. Stalls line the streets, offering everything from sizzling tacos to sweet churros.

Sean hands you a stack of flyers. “Here, let’s spread out and see who we can talk to. Meet back at the taco stand in half an hour?”

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you wander through the market, you hand out flyers and strike up conversations with locals, telling them about the garage’s services and the upcoming community events. The warm reception you receive boosts your confidence.

After half an hour, you make your way to the taco stand where Sean and Daniel are already waiting. Sean hands you a taco with a grin. “I got you the special. Trust me, it’s amazing.”

You take a bite and moan with delight. “Oh wow, this is incredible.”

Daniel laughs. “Told you, the street food here is the best.”

As you eat, the three of you chat about the people you met and the responses you got. Sean seems particularly pleased. “I think this is really going to work. People are interested and excited.”

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I’m glad. This market is amazing, too. Thanks for bringing me here.”

Sean looks at you, his eyes warm. “Anytime. I’m really glad you’re part of this.”

Daniel nudges Sean playfully. “Yeah, we’re glad to have you around. Plus, it’s fun watching you two flirt.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, and Sean chuckles. “Oh, really? And here I thought we were being subtle.”

You laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie. “Well, I’m glad to be here too.”

After lunch, you continue to explore the market, taking in the sights and sounds. Sean and Daniel introduce you to some of their favorite vendors, and you pick up a few treats to take home. The bustling market, with its vibrant stalls and lively atmosphere, is infectious, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the experience.

"Hey, there's this one store I think you'll love," Sean says, leading the way down a narrow alley. "They sell the most random and quirky stuff."

You follow Sean and Daniel to a small, cluttered shop that's packed to the brim with odd trinkets and peculiar items. The shop owner, an elderly man with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, greets you warmly.

"Welcome! Feel free to browse and have fun," he says, motioning to the chaotic array of items.

Daniel is the first to dive in, picking up a rubber chicken and squeezing it to make it squawk. "This place is amazing! Look at this stuff."

Sean chuckles, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses and putting them on. "How do I look?"

You laugh, grabbing a feathered hat and placing it on your head. "Very stylish. I think we’ve found our new look."

The three of you spend the next hour rummaging through the store, trying on silly hats, testing out bizarre gadgets, and laughing at the strange and wonderful items you find. Sean finds an old Polaroid camera and starts taking candid pictures of you and Daniel, capturing the playful moments.

"Say cheese!" Sean calls out as he snaps a picture of you holding a giant stuffed banana.

Daniel grins, holding up a fake mustache. "This is the best day ever."

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie and joy. "I have to agree. This is so much fun."

Sean hands you one of the Polaroids, a picture of the three of you making funny faces. "A keepsake from our random adventure."

You take the photo, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Sean. I’ll treasure this."

After purchasing a few of the more amusing items, including the rubber chicken for Daniel and the Polaroid camera for Sean, you leave the shop and continue to explore the market. The rest of the afternoon is filled with lighthearted moments, laughter, and a growing sense of connection between you, Sean, and Daniel.

As the sun begins to set, you head back to the Diaz house, your bags full of quirky treasures and your hearts full of happiness. The day has been perfect, but Sean has one more surprise in store.

After dropping off your bags and freshening up, Sean pulls you aside. “Hey, I was thinking... Daniel can stay home for a few hours, and there’s this little fiesta in town tonight. It’s something we do every weekend—lots of pretty lights, good music, dancing, and drinks. Would you like to go?”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of spending more time with Sean. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to.”

Sean smiles, looking relieved and excited. He turns to Daniel. “Hey, bud, you okay staying home for a bit? We won’t be gone too long.”

Daniel nods, giving Sean a knowing look. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just don’t embarrass yourself too much, big brother.”

Sean chuckles, ruffling Daniel’s hair. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll be back before you know it.”

As you and Sean head out, the night air is cool and filled with the sounds of the town winding down for the evening. The streets are lit with twinkling lights, and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. You feel a sense of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, but also a thrill of adventure.

The fiesta is in full swing by the time you arrive. Colorful lights are strung across the plaza, and the sound of lively music fills the air. People are dancing, laughing, and enjoying the festive atmosphere.

Sean takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. “I hope you like it. It’s one of my favorite parts of living here.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling a rush of warmth. “It’s beautiful, Sean. Thank you for bringing me.”

He leads you to a small bar where he orders drinks. “Two margaritas, please,” he says to the bartender. Turning to you, he adds with a grin, “These are the best in town. You have to try one.”

You take the drink, clinking glasses with him. “To new adventures.”

“To new adventures,” he echoes, his eyes twinkling in the festive lights.

As the evening progresses, the two of you wander around the fiesta, enjoying the music and the vibrant atmosphere. Sean seems to know everyone, stopping to chat and introduce you to his friends. You feel a sense of belonging, like you’re becoming part of this close-knit community.

After a while, the music shifts to a slower, more romantic tune. Sean turns to you, a playful glint in his eye. “Care to dance?”

You laugh, feeling a bit tipsy from the margaritas. “I’d love to.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. As you dance, the world around you seems to fade away. It’s just you and Sean, moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. His hand on your back feels warm and steady, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” you say, looking up at him.

He chuckles. “I have my moments. But you’re making me look even better.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re just saying that.”

He grins, his eyes locking with yours. “No, I mean it. You’re amazing.”

The flirty banter continues, each compliment and playful tease making your heart race a little faster. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and the festive atmosphere only heightens the connection.

As the night goes on, you and Sean enjoy more drinks, each one making you both a bit more tipsy and carefree. Sean starts showing off his dance moves, and you can’t help but laugh at his playful antics.

You remember when Daniel told you about Sean trying to impress someone with his dancing at a party some time ago. “Oh, so are that the moves Daniel told me all about?” 

Sean, slightly unsteady but grinning widely, gives you a mock offended look. “Hey, I’m just having fun. I thought you’d be impressed.”

You join in the fun, playfully adding, “Yeah, Sean, I’m definitely impressed. You’re giving me some serious moves to aspire to.”

The banter continues, and the two of you laugh and dance together, the evening growing more lively and carefree. The combination of drinks and good company makes everything feel even more enjoyable.

By the time the fiesta starts winding down, you realize that you’re quite tipsy and Sean isn’t much better off. You stumble slightly as you make your way back to the Diaz house, leaning on Sean for support.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how much I’d had,” you giggle, leaning into Sean.

He chuckles, his arm around your shoulders for support. “Yeah, I guess we went a bit overboard. But hey, it was a blast.”

When you arrive at the Diaz house, Sean looks at you with a slightly concerned expression. “I don’t think you should drive home tonight. Maybe you can crash on the couch again?”

You nod, feeling a bit wobbly but content. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Sean helps you settle onto the couch, his touch gentle and comforting. “Let me just... find a blanket,” he says, fumbling through the closet.

You watch him with a grin. “Need any help there, or should I just use my jacket?”

Sean looks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I can manage. But thanks for the offer.”

Eventually, Sean manages to get the blankets sorted out, and you settle in. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion starts to take its toll, and soon, you’re all sprawled out on the couch, trying to get some rest. For a moment Sean just sits besides you, making sure you are comfortable and not about to throw up. 

Just as you’re starting to drift off, Daniel, who had been in his room, comes out and sees you all on the couch. “Can’t believe you two are passed out already,” he says with a grin. “Guess it was a pretty wild night.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, we may have had a bit too much fun.”

Daniel teases Sean, “Careful, Sean. If you keep this up, people might start thinking you’re a lightweight.”

Sean playfully nudges Daniel. “Oh, just wait until you’re older. Then you can join us in the ‘lightweight’ club.”

As the three of you laugh and chat quietly, the warmth of the night, the camaraderie, and the effects of the drinks make it hard to stay awake. Eventually, the conversation fades into comfortable silence, and you drift off to sleep on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of friendship and the lingering buzz of a perfect night out.

After a while, Sean and Daniel quietly rise from their spots on the couch. Sean looks down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “She’s out cold,” he whispers to Daniel.

Daniel, still half-asleep, nods. “Yeah, looks like it. I’ll head to bed now.”

Sean leads the way to their bedrooms, and Daniel follows. The house is quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustle of your breathing and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

As they enter Sean’s room, Daniel glances at his brother, curiosity evident in his eyes. “So, Sean...”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “What’s up, Danny?”

Daniel hesitates, then asks, “Do you think you and her might, you know, become more than friends?”

Sean chuckles softly, shaking his head. “It’s only been a few weeks. I really like her, but it’s way too soon to think about stuff like that.”

Daniel looks thoughtful. “But you do like her, right?”

“Yeah,” Sean admits, his voice warm. “I do like her. She’s great.”

Daniel ponders this for a moment, then asks, “What if she likes you back? Do you think she might want something more?”

Sean leans back against the wall, considering. “I think she enjoys spending time with me, but we’re both still figuring things out. It’s better to take things slow and see where it goes.”

Daniel nods, accepting his brother’s answer. “I guess that makes sense. You don’t want to rush into anything.”

Sean smiles at Daniel’s thoughtful expression. “Exactly. It’s important to build a solid foundation first.”

Daniel then asks, with a hint of teasing in his voice, “So, what if she’s your girlfriend and I become her little brother?”

Sean laughs, nudging Daniel playfully. “We’d all get along just fine. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Daniel grins, clearly amused. “Just wanted to know. It’s not every day I see my big brother with someone who makes him smile like that.”

Sean’s expression softens. “I know. And I’m happy she’s here. We’ll see where things go.”

With that, the two brothers bid each other goodnight. Sean heads to his room, while Daniel retreats to his own. The house settles into a quiet stillness, with only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustle of the breeze outside breaking the silence.

As Sean lies in bed, he thinks about the night’s events and your growing connection. He’s glad to have you in his life, but he knows it’s important to let things develop naturally. He drifts off to sleep, a contented smile on his face, hopeful for what the future might hold.

authors note: this has been one of my favorite chapters to write so far!!! I hope you like this as well <33

[pumpkinpot]

BG3 X farmers market booths

farmers market season is upon us and I am an avid faire/con/market goer. I loved the entire side quest in BG3 involving the traveling circus, and it got me thinking.... What kind of booth or show would each of the bg3 companions have?

There is only a few ways I could see the troupe actually agreeing to participate one is they are really low on funds and the other is an investigation. either works for these ideas.

Roland: He mentions that he has a big interest in making magical education more accessible to the masses so I feel that that would be a bit part of his booth. you know those booths at farmers markets that all sell secondhand books on rolling carts? I feel like that's the vibe. He has posters for magical workshops being hosted at Razmith and cozy chairs for people to sit around under and umbrella and read for a while.

Karalach/ Dammon: they decided to put their skills together and forge artisanal cloak pins and other fineries. its really helpful having someone who can heat the metals so quickly so dammon can craft quicker. Its not long that they have to eventually raise their prices because everyone at the faire wants one of their hair pins or spoon rings.

Astarion/ Scratch: He was offered a place in the kissing booth that he immediately turned down. Of course, his alternative idea was a blood drive. cheeky bastard. in the end he settled for animal handler. Believe it or not, once he no longer had to rely on animals as his food source he found he was quite good with them. He got the idea from constantly having to repair scratches ball, so he decided, with some help from Halsin, to make toys that cannot be destroyed no matter how tuff your pet. He also sells bandanas with tracking spells woven into them and treats that let your dog speak for an hour or two. Him and scratch make an adorable team, people commenting consistently on their matching hair and bandanas. He sells the most of anyone at the fair, followed closely by Halsin.

Halsin: Mans forgot that yall are here to make money. He decided make a booth for pollination education. He has a lepidopterarium for people who want to hold butterflies while he tells them the importance of local wildflowers. Everyone that visits the booth gets a seed bomb. when he was told he actually needed to sell something he settled on honey he harvested. He has to ask you what people mean when they say he's of "beekeeping age," and what "forest daddy" means.

Gale: Idk where this came from really, but I feel like he has a candle booth. but enchanted candles. hear me out. "this candle smells like the first warm day of the year, when the sun touches your skin for the first time in months," o, "this candles you can poor on your skin to heal a pulled muscle or burn," or "this candle influences your dreams and takes you where you want to go."

Blurg/Omeluum: Naturally, they have a mushroom booth. But not just mushrooms. Burg took one culinary class and decided he needed to open a food truck, but everything was mushrooms. fried mushroom poppers, mushroom tacos, balsamic mushroom skewers.. Omeluum is just happy to be able to be in public now with its partner.

My Tav (October): The plan to have a spider booth was shot down pretty quickly, so there needed to be a compromise. October decided to have a crochet booth with tons of different projects like blankets, stuffed animals, cowls etc. but they were all made by spiders. Pino was the only one present for the market and a few people wanted to hold her, though most moved along upon hearing the labour practices of Octs products.

Authors Note: I would love to write a second part to this, I just don't have the spoons at this moment. If you have anything else you'd like to see let me know!

Link to Master list (I do not have a gaming masterlist yet. Hopefully more to come!)

[gravemations]

Chasing Stars (will be continued, at some point)

(This is a short opening to my Ocs story about a world where magic is created from the power of Stars and other celestial body's. I am not the best writer so I might make some writing mistakes. )

A light, such a simple thing. You never release how important the warmth it gives, the shelter it provides.  That is till it is taken from you. 

Alice knew this feeling well for a while, she had lost the star that guided her to this place. She states out into the bumbling peppered down streets as the rain tumbled on cars, stores and people walking by. 

She watches  as they all walk by as if nothing was happening, she wonders why they were so tranquil moving as if  they were the water. She remembers how people would celebrate whole festivals when the Sky fall came. 

But this wasn't her home; she was as much a stranger to them as they were to her, Alice had only arrived in The city of Largshull recently, only arriving 2 days ago and was still needing to get accustomed to this place.  

She had been staying at an inn since she arrived by hiding in the haul of a cargo ship, she was lucky that they only released what happened as she bolted into the crowd once the ship docked climbing out from the deck quickly. 

But now she had a different problem, she didn't leave with a lot of money, scrounging around her pockets while getting ready for the day she realized that she needed to get a job soon.   

Did she even know how to get a job?? It didn't matter, she would just find a way. She thought to herself as she grabbed her green coat and hat from the floor, not noticing she still had stains on it but that can't be too much to be done about that.  

~~~~~~~~ 

This is just the worst isn't it? She scoffed as she sat down at a bench as the sound of rushing water went by from the pipes running off the buildings. It had been a week and things were not going well for her. 

She had applied for a number of jobs but not a single one had been accepted, turns out most employers don't like it when you show up with no records of who you are? 

She didn't have anything on them that identified who she was, only records of someone else. Alice was who she is and was not going to go back to what her father wanted her to be, that was why she was here.  

But it still didn't help that she couldn't get a job, scratching her arm and trying to think what she could even do. Looking around at the buildings that litter the street looking for places to try next to put in an application. 

Nothing really caught her eye but still she needed something so she started looking down and up the street, shops built into old buildings. Usually concrete or brick with water pipes coming off the sides and they go underground, some having balconies with plants covering them and intricate banners and crafts with many bright colours to contrast the whites and grays of the city. 

There were a few cafes or general stores, Alice noted this town till she saw something. 

A poster, wet from the rain but still together, it interested her as she got up to take a look. It was a poster for a precision for security for a company invested in research of relics. 

Alice pondered at this reading it carefully, it was a high pay for a job with no requirements usually meaning it was dangerous in some way. And knowing anything about relics that was true. Power objects infused with the power of stars.  

Alice knew that Stars were powerful and not meant to be tampered with from tales her mother told her when young. She knew it was a bad idea to mess with such a thing but that didn't stop her from ending up in an interview with the head of the company Ms Heikkila anyway. 

She was a well put together woman with a complexion whiter than quarts, with her hair in a tight bun in an older style dress with a brooch of what looks like lapis on her right side. Which very much constructed Alice more casual and ragged clothing.

She was calm yet had a look of assertiveness to her that you knew she knew exactly what she was talking about.

The interview was stressful and definitely could be seen on Alice's face debating what was in her mind even though this was a good idea.

And before she knew it she got the job despite her regretting ever getting it in the first place but she needed to feed herself somehow. She would need to head out to the business in the morning to get introduced to the work the place does and get used to the other people working there. But for now she was going to bed and who knows? Maybe while she works here she can find her new light.