#who doesn't love Log Lady?

[okuberlik]

Your Twin Peaks fun fact of the day

Day #9

Catherine Coulson, who played the Log Lady died in 2015 of cancer. Her gravestone looks like every grave you would find in a cemetery, it includes her English name, her Hebrew name, her birth, and death years and the words "Daughter, Mother, Sister, Friends". But above all that are engraved two hands holding a log, a tribute to her iconic role.

She posthumously appeared in the third season of Twin Peaks in which the first episode is dedicated to her. While the fifteenth, the final to feature her character (who announces her death before dying offscreen), is dedicated to Margaret Lanterman, Log Lady herself.

Here's a picture of her grave:

Rest in peace Catherine, you were the perfect person to portray the amazing Log Lady.

[aether-friskets]

dale cooper twin peaks is one of the characters ever. btw

[z00oo1]

Collin and Penelope Fics

We Can't Be Friends by LovelyMagnolia

Penelope and Colin are two people who have never quite managed to get their timing right, but maybe all they need is one night to fix that. Modern AU

Yellow Dress by CassandraGoth

She wants only to secure a marriage that will allow her the freedom she needs to escape from under her mother's thumb and continue writing. But the unexpected return of a traveling gentleman and a sizeable bounty placed by the Queen to unmask a troublesome author.

A Wallflower's Bloom by Enganda

"Are you mad? I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington." Brokenhearted from the words she heard from her childhood love, Penelope Featherington had decided to change her ways and prove herself worthy of being loved.

A Pound To A Penelope by FirstLadyJane

After having spent the off-season licking her wounds, Penelope comes back to Mayfair a pragmatic woman determined to take control of her fate. She's on a mission to cement her spinsterhood and accept a standing job offer in Ireland.

The Great Stage of Fools by lottielots11

Penelope is finally engaged to the man she has loved for most of her life, and she could not be happier if it wasn't for the secret which hangs over them. And with Colin's reluctance to even discuss Whistledown, how will they ever overcome their differences in order to marry?

Scattered Flowers by Cortlandia33

After her fallout with Eloise and hearing Colin's declaration to never marry her in front of the entire Ton, Penelope left high society and found a cottage in the country. Now, almost three years later, her choice comes back to haunt her when a certain someone begs for her forgiveness... and her heart.

the last one in your corner by my_middle_name_is_awkward

Penelope cannot agree to marry Colin because she knows Eloise will not approve

Kintsugi by Metamorphases

Watch as Colin Bridgerton goes to increasingly mad lengths to keep Penelope Featherington safe and sound (and away from other suitors).

Dark is the world's night without you my love by angellus08

Penelope meets someone from Colin's past and her old insecurities crop up.

Affection by lixabiz

Colin returns to London for the Season of 1815, hoping to reconnect with his friend Penelope - only to discover that everything has changed between them.

Attachment by lixabiz

(Set post S2. Some elements from the S3 synopsis, but not a prediction fic.)

Butterfly's Reverie by CassandraGoth

What might have changed had Penelope told Colin privately that her cousin Marina Thompson was with child? Not an easy scandal from which to untangle himself without the public protection of Lady Whistledown’s society papers.

Foolish One by LeighAnne_Balsdon

Colin announces his engagement to Marina and Penelope doesn't take it very well. She makes a hasty decision to run away from Mayfair, to save her broken heart. When Colin and Eloise find out that Penelope is missing they decide to look for her themselves. What they find, however, is something no one was expecting.

One of us has got to change by itsjustabee

Colin and Penelope accidentally wear matching outfits to the Bridgerton ball

My Give a Fucks are On Vacation by SuzyH_82

It’s just a pity that for the last three years, she’s also been Colin’s ‘friends with benefits’ friend. I mean, it’s not like Colin could ever want a relationship…technically he already has a very public girlfriend…his fellow presenter Marina, on his travel log TV show. However, after their latest hook-up, Penelope overhears Colin talking to the press and realizes Colin is never going to see her as anything more than a friend and she finally decides to move on with her life.

i chose this cyclone with you (my heart exploding) by Vryalys

Well perchance it is I who do not wish to marry you any longer,” she hissed furiously at him, her eyes prickling as she moved away from him to the farthest end of the coach bench. She pulled at his mother’s ring from her finger, where she was sure it no longer belonged. “I will not marry a man who loathes to even look at me.”

The Disappearance of Penelope Featherington by hippiechick7897

Penelope Featherington leaves the many scandals of her life behind to start anew while Colin desperately searches to find her and bring her back home. When they are reunited, Colin finds a threat he had not anticipated and wonders if he's too late to secure the affections of the woman he's just realized is his love.

Violet's Fifth Daughter by kermitthefrogstanaccount

Penelope faints at her and Colin’s engagement dinner and Violet gives a piece of her mind to Eloise about continuing to love Penelope after everything that’s happened.

Ruin by Sea_Dragonfly

Colin wouldn't remember the details of what his mother told him next. He would remember her hand warm on his knee, her eyes wide with concern, her voice gentle as velvet. All of it in stark contrast to the devastating news she shared. Penelope was ruined.

Dishonest Conquest by lilyeval

Colin is such a gracious helper, he ruins Penelope’s every opportunity with her suitors. So protective of her honor, he even lets himself into her very private bedroom.

Just Having Fun by Spartangal22

When Eloise arrives home from Scotland, the very first place she goes is to see her best friend and brother in their home. And since they’re family, the rules of social etiquette need hardly apply. Why should she bother knocking?

her mother's daughter by secretlydelighted

the story where Lord Debling's son is courting Agatha Bridgerton and Colin is not having it, because why is another vegetarian all up in his business?

Meet Me at Midnight by Sevens11073003

Or eight times Penelope runs into a Bridgerton on the way to Colin’s room + the one time she runs into Colin on the way to bed.

have my back, yeah, every day by my_middle_name_is_awkward

Colin had very little patience for Cressida Cowper before he and Penelope were engaged. Now, he must make it clear that he will not tolerate her comments about his soon-to-be wife.

Unreliable Narrator by WhiskeyTinCup

Eloise has a lifelong habit of overreacting to Penelope's love life and everyone knows it, even if she refuses to acknowledge it.

I Do Not Want To Stand By Your Side by magentaverse

She didn’t need a love declaration. She certainly didn’t need him to sign his life to her. She just needed his love. A few smiles and his willing ear. But Colin Bridgerton did what he did best—he changed the course of her life the moment he muttered, "I do not want to stand by your side, Penelope Featherington."

Best Laid Plans meet MissCarriage by sanoiro

Or The unconventional birthing place of - the fated to be Adventurous - Miss Agatha Bridgerton...

Why do fools fall in love by NomDeJeen

Now that they are married, Colin wants Penelope to *win* the heir race with her sisters.

Benedict offers some unexpected advice.

It goes about how you would expect.

of manmade tales & honest lies by cchampdelevande

just saw someone asking "what if penelope finds out she's pregnant right after the lady whistledown fight with colin" and i genuinely think shonda is not above torturing us like that

Newton vs The Bridgerton Men by Lovelymagnolia

In which, Newton figures out Penelope's pregnant before she does, Colin develops beef with a dog, and a longstanding battle between Newton and all the Bridgerton men is unearthed.

Cracks by Vellinae

It’s a winter of firsts for everyone. It’s Colin and Penelope’s first winter as a married couple. It’s Penelope’s first time putting on ice skates and venturing onto the frozen lake with the entire Bridgerton family. It’s Colin’s first time watching the ice crack, just barely out of reach, and seeing his wife disappear into the murky water below.

At Least It Wasn't A Duel by SugMak

When Penelope sends Colin out of the house so she can focus on his journals, he hears Fife and the Toxic Lord crew talking about Penelope's breasts. He doesn't take it well. He's not particularly looking forward to her finding out about it.

Tintiddle Talks by goddammitfandom

Anthony ruins a wonderful family picnic by bringing up Colin's past indiscretions. He gets answers that somehow make him even angrier.

Tried to Pick My Battles 'Til the Battle Picked Me by headphonesbaby

Colin always seems to find an issue with Pen's boyfriends

I Wish You Knew by threefundamentaltruths

 which Colin and Penelope ran away together to escape the queen's wrath.

Visiting A Farm by ancoraimparo_youknowwho

Eloise is back from Scotland and eager to meet Her bestie. But things start on a very wrong note because who the hell does THAT to their wife??!!! Right??

uh-oh i'm fallin' in love (oh no) by stolemystarl17

Colin didn't stop the proposal at the Queen's Ball, but he can stop the banns.

grieving for the living by itwasglorious

Penelope marries Lord Debling and Colin cannot watch. So Colin leaves and Penelope settles into married life. A year later he returns.

Stand By Me by Musicalmidget

Penelope has been keeping another secret from Colin but upon see his family together at Francesca's wedding, she decides it's time to tell him and her plan for Lady Whistledown. This is a continuation of the scene from the study and will continue until the epilogue.

An Honorary Bridgerton by My_middle_name_is_awkward

The Bridgertons have always loved Penelope Featherington as if she was one of them.

Of course, they are all ecstatic that Colin will be making her an official Bridgerton, instead of just one of honorary status.

Scraped up off the pavement by missparker

After Penelope falls out with Eloise over her popular gossip blog, all the Bridgertons cut contact with her. Penelope moves to Scotland and buys a book shop and gets on with her life.

That is, until she spots Colin Bridgerton at the coffee shop next door.

Catch & Release by TonyStarksAngstyHeart

Everyone develops a tiny crush on Penelope as they wait, betting of course, for Colin to pull his head out of his arse.

Spanning 1803-1821

P-E-To-The-T-T-Y by jerrymander

Colin may be coming to terms with Penelope’s family but that does not mean he has forgiven them for their slights against Penelope.

Plenitude by HaveredSolitude

Colin and Penelope are faced with difficult decisions when complications arise during the birth of their baby. With the help of their family, they navigate through memories and feelings, confronting adversity with the strength of their bond.

Ran out room so here the link to part 2

[sugoi-writes]

Can I be 🦇 anon? For some reason I’ve always been obsessed with the flexing part of an arm? I don’t know the technical term but I can’t see Demon Al doing this as much as his human counterpart would sooooooooo human Alastor with his sweetheart who has never EVER soon for him like woman usually do I mean he has ladies fainting LMAOA HOWEVER one day when he’s cutting idk wood or something she sees his arm flex she’s like a puddle I mean full fangirling giggling and screaming and he’s like huh??? Until he realizes and then boom from then on he’s flexing any time he can to pull a scream from her

🦇Anon? Love it! I'm a big fan of bats! This ask was too adorable. I just KNEW I could cook something up!

It does get a liiiiittle suggestive in parts, but otherwise stays perfectly appropriate! FEAST, my dearies!!!

"Love? The fire is going out! We'll need more firewood!" You call from inside. You make your way to the door, your top half hovering just outside as you searched for your darling beau. You've always enjoyed your time with him at his family's cabin, a piece of his inheritance that was used quite often. And, of course, it was highly appreciated by the both of you.

Your eyes dart about until you heard a distinct CHOP, eyes finding Alastor with his axe buried into an old tree stump. His smile widens when he sees you, wiping the sweat from his brow. You feel your pulse race, surprised to see his bare chest gleaming in the sunlight. The humid, thick air that permeated in the South could not be helped, and so, Alastor worked without a shirt on. Even with this simple and understandable notion, you found yourself fond of (and shocked by) the rare sight. You try to make your face pleasantly neutral and wave, trying to save face.

"No worries, dear. 'Already mending that problem!"

You chuckle, leaning fully into the door frame as Alastor positions a new log to cleave through. The Summer was good for one thing, you reasoned; seeing Alastor's chest, bared for only you to see, heaving steadily as he worked. Better yet, you could practically feel the gaze he gave back to you, his knowing smile making you beam every time you saw it. While you weren't like most others, not being overly doting or frivolous about his appearance, you still appreciated and treasured it deeply.

When Alastor returned to his work, your eyes fixated on his hands, then his arms. Indeed, you were very familiar with how powerful they were. They did wonders for and to you. But then: you see a flex. A jut and shift of his bicep has your mouth watering lecherously. As his grip relaxed on the axe, his body bending down to grab another log, you watched the muscles in his arm relax and re-fire. This set of motions repeated for a time, much to your enjoyment. As an extra treat, sometimes a vein in his neck would pop out at the same time his forearms and triceps strained, making your pupils bloom and shrink with hunger.

It was, without a doubt, an extremely alluring sight. Each time the axe raised over his head, your eyes followed, forcing you to stiffle a nervous chuckle. God, he was too beautiful for his own good. He was too strong for you to handle, and far too beautiful to be a called simple, minimalist man. His body was the work of a master craftsman, thank God.

As another piece of firewood was cut, you covered you mouth, stifling a squeal as he brought a towel to his forehead, huffing from his efforts. When he heard your little noises, he turned to you, his smile drooping slightly," Anything the matter, dear?" You were quick to shrink back, waving his concern off with a nervous laugh.

"Ha-ha, NO! No, I'm fine! Don't worry about me! I-I'll start working on dinner, okay?" Alastor doesn't seem convinced, squinting in your direction. His glasses were cast aside earlier, in fear they may fall off and become a victim of his labor," If you say so, dear. I'll be inside in a moment to help with the potatoes, mon cherie." You nod and turn to go inside, your face still boiling hot as you try to distract yourself. Your body starts to go through the motions, chopping veggies that were freshly harvested to use in your stew. You try to focus on the task at hand, your mind lingering on images of Alastor's physique. You had failed at your task stupendously. You felt no remorse!

You couldn't help but squirm at the mental images: veins and muscles shifting from physical effort. That devilishly handsome smile and toned body... it made your heart race! You wondered what his arms must've looked like when he was hovering above you... Your grip was tightening as you chopped the veggies faster, your safety disregarded. You giggle to yourself, eyes closing momentarily to focus on the pleasant thought of Alastor caging you with his muscular arms until--

"FUCK-- shit!"

No sooner did you wail was Alastor at the door, slamming it open," What happened??? What did--"

Alastor's eyes were wide, pupils shrunken to mere pinpricks as he took in your form. You held your bleeding finger, huffing.

"I-It's fine, it's fine! I'm fine!" You reassure, grabbing a handtowel to press to your wound. Alastor strode over to you, tongue clicking at your carelessness. As he went to put his axe down, your eyes caught his arms again, yelping as you turn away hastily. Your sudden movement left your partner clueless.

Alastor pauses again, a brow raising," My love, what's gotten into you? You've never been this careless before..."

You shuddered as Alastor came behind you, hands resting on the counter on either side of your hips," Are you sure you're quite alright?"

He leaned in to kiss your cheek, coaxing you into looking his way. You began yelping again, your mouth slamming shut as you tear your eyes away from his body. Alastor grumbles, slightly annoyed with your silence," Sweetheart, I can't help you if you don't use your words--"

One hand snatches you by the hip, spinning you quickly around while the other takes your wounded hand.

You eyes are blown wide, unable to make eye contact as they stare down at Alastor's arms," I-Im fine, really just-- just got lost in my thoughts! I promise!"

Between Al's proximity, his partial nudity, and those arms trapping you, you felt like your face blazed hotter than the fucking Sun. Alastor seemed to catch on, watching as your legs squeezed, shifting your weight uncomfortably. He leans closer to you, the muscles in his torso expanding and contracting with his movements. You sigh shakily, stifling a blissful squeak. Ahh. So it was him that was causing you to fret...

Alastor began to chuckle slowly at first, before laughing heartily. You stammered as a large hand came to your shoulder to steady himself, your lips blubbering pathetically. He was laughing fairly hard, causing his abdominals to flex and seize (a sight too delicious to behold). You were whining, on the verge of squealing as you weakly pushed against him again.

"A-Alastor, if you don't back up, I just might NOT be okay!!!" Alastor couldn't help himself, working himself into short bursts of stitches as he calms down, eyes watering.

"Ohhh, dearest... honestly, was I really that distracting to you?" His voice was low and flirtatious as you felt yourself being pressed into the counter, his hips holding you in place. You nearly shrieked as Alastor's hands gripped the counter harshly, knuckles white. Your mouth fell agape with a silent moan as the muscles in his upper arms and pecs stirred once more. You push against him once more, feeling as though you would pop like a balloon.

"A-Al, this isn't cute!!! Stop it, please!" You practically whine as Alastor just leaned, kissing your bright, heated cheeks.

"Well, I suppose I could go chop more wood, if the space could offer you some reprieve..."

You gasp as your chin is pulled forward, forcing you to make eye contact with him. If you weren't in your prime, you'd fear having a stroke at the sight of his almond colored eyes staring back into yours with a tumultuous energy.

"But, I think we both know you'd prefer that I stay rii~iiight here, don't you?" He teased, his lips dangerously close to your own. Your own lips quivered at the relentless pestering, your eyes struggling to make contact again," W-Well, I-- you know I-- uugghhh, if you keep teasing me, dinner is going to be late!!!"

"That's fiiiine by me!" Alastor says in a sing-song tone, and to your horror, you are lifted and placed onto the counter with minimal effort. Your eyes become transfixed on him, unable to clench your legs closed. Alastor knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. Your partner moved to be between your thighs, his voice a husky gravel; his tone was JUST loud enough for you to process.

"How about we start with dessert first, hmm~?"

[willalove75]

Alcina request - reader does labor while she watches from the shadows (or maybe her balcony) + nsfw thoughts of reader. Y/n is cutting wood for the fireplaces so the maids can keep the castle warm for the daughters <3

Love this!! Thanks so much for the request!!💕💕

Lets get into it!!

Warnings: masturbation

18+ Only Minors DNI

The morning sun was low in the sky on this chilly Sunday afternoon. Fall has begun to give way to winter so the Dimitrescu girls have been locked inside of the castle until spring.

Lady Dimitrescu is sitting at her vanity wrapped in one of her robes fixing her hair. In her head she's going over all of the things that need to get done, deciding which tasks on her to-do list can wait until tomorrow. It's not often where the Countess gets a day to relax so when the opportunity arises, she does what she can to take advantage of the situation.

*THWACK*

The Lady is pulled from her thoughts when she hears the sound. Pausing for a moment she goes back to the list in her head.

*THWACK*

She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm.

*THWACK*

Bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose she prays that the noise outside her bedroom window stops. She doesn't hear the noise for a few seconds and picks up her teacup.

*THWACK*

Lady Dimitrescu all but slams her teacup down and walks over to the windows.

*THWACK*

Unable to see where the sound is coming from, she steps out onto her terrace and looks down. She's taken aback when she sees you raising an axe over your head driving it down and splitting a piece of wood.

*THWACK*

"What on the black gods green earth is she doing?" She mutters to herself.

Unless you work in the kitchens or are assigned to other important roles, usually all maids have off on Sundays to do what they please. Most make their way down to the village or spend time in the maids quarters. Some venture out to the library but for the most part the maids keep to themselves and relax. Watching you outside, in the cold, splitting wood on a Sunday morning was definitely out of the ordinary.

The cold air felt good on your heated skin as you chop the wood. You noticed that the wood pile was running low and the temperature was supposed to drop pretty drastically tonight. The girls, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela, can be hurt by the cold, killed even. It was something you learned early on when you started working at Castle Dimitrescu. In the late fall and winter all windows are to remain closed and every fireplace must be attended to. There's a few maids who are assigned the task but when you mentioned it to them this morning they waved it off and said that it was a problem for tomorrow and headed out to the village. It was something that rubbed you the wrong way, first of all, their tasks weren't complete. Secondly, it's not like running out of firewood would be harmless, it could kill the Countess' daughters. Yes, they were a lot to handle, a lot, but you couldn't understand why the maids thought it was okay in the least to even risk running out of firewood, especially when it's supposed to get so cold outside tonight. So you took it upon yourself to chop some wood, it's something you've done before, but haven't had to do often. You know you're going to be sore tomorrow but in your eyes it's worth it.

Chopping a few more logs you start to sweat more. Glancing around quickly you don't see anyone around so you pull your long sleeve shirt off and toss it aside leaving you in your pants and your camisole. For a moment the cold air bites at your exposed skin but the chill cools you off so much that it's refreshing.

Alcina watches you as you lay the axe against the stump you've been chopping the wood on. She's relieved for a brief second thinking that you're finished until you pull off your long sleeve shirt, wearing just a camisole underneath it. Watching you as you wipe the sweat from your brow, you grab the axe, put another log on the stump, raise your arms and swing.

*THWACK*

When the Countess was looking for a new handmaid you were in the running for the position. She ended up choosing another maid but now she can't quite remember why she didn't chose you. She is captivated as she watches you, she watches the muscles in your back and shoulders move with each swing, how the beads of sweat make your skin glisten in the morning sun, your strong arms, your delicate wrists. She pictures herself pinning your wrists above your head with your back against the wall. She lights a cigarette and closes her eyes, deeply inhaling, exhaling through her nose with a low growl.

*THWACK*

She opens her eyes again and watches you toss the logs onto the pile you've made so far. You've managed to chop a decent amount of wood for the short amount of time you've been out here. Deciding that a few more should do the trick, at least until tomorrow when the person who is supposed to keep the pile stacked refills the rest.

Lady Dimitrescu's attention is pulled away from you when she hears a small knock on her door.

*THWACK*

She turns and goes back inside, the door closing behind her.

Tossing the wood into the pile you see something out of the corner of your eye. Looking up you see the door to the Lady's terrace shut and movement in the window. The morning sun rays are reflecting off of the window too much for you to be able to see inside but you could have sworn that it was her. You begin to pick up the logs and bring them to the pile. Stacking logs in your arms, you go inside and start placing small piles near the fireplaces that are running low.

"Enter." Lady Dimitrescu says, taking a seat at her vanity.

Her new handmaid, Maria, comes in. A tray in her hands with a fresh pot of tea.

"Good morning my Lady."

"You can leave it over on the table." She says, waving in the direction of the table.

*THWACK*

"Is there anything else you need from me, my Lady?"

*THWACK*

Turning her head towards the sound once more Lady Dimitrescu takes a moment before she responds.

"Why is that maid chopping wood outside? I don't believe that is her assignment."

Walking over to the window Maria sees you.

"Oh, yes I saw her speaking to the maids this morning about that. She was gathering wood to tend to the fireplace and noticed that the pile was running low and when she talked to the girls that are responsible for keeping it stocked, they brushed her off and went down into the village. They said that's a 'tomorrow problem.'"

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrow at Maria.

"Do they know how cold it's supposed to get tonight?"

"Yes my Lady, y/n had mentioned it."

"And they know my daughters are susceptible to the cold? That it could very well kill them?" She says through gritted teeth.

"I'm not sure my Lady," Maria says nervously. "I don't want to assume, but given their assignment and the fact that every maid is made aware of that, I don't know how they don't."

A growl erupts from Lady Dimitrescu's chest, an anger bubbling inside of her. How can they not care about her daughters safety? About their lives when they were assigned to do the one task that keeps them safe.

"When the maids left, y/n took it upon herself to restock the wood pile, to at least have enough to last through the night." Maria says.

"Very well. That's all." The Countess says, dismissing the maid.

Lady Dimitrescu goes back to the window to find the axe laying against the stump, the logs you cut and the shirt you discarded gone. Her mind wanders back to the sight of you chopping wood. Your glistening, blemish free skin, how she would love to sink her teeth into it. How strong your back and arms looked as you wielded the axe above your head. Your beautiful face, your strong legs. A familiar feeling begins to develop between her legs deep in her core.

She's not sure if it's because of the fact that she hasn't been satisfied in a little while or because of how you looked out there, or because of how you went out of your way to make sure her daughters were safe. Or perhaps it was all of the above. All she knows is that if you were in front of her right now she would throw you onto her bed and ravish you.

The ache in her core grows so she decides to take care of herself before it gets too out of hand.

Making your way through the castle you replenish the wood in the library, the sitting rooms, and each of the girls bedrooms. You decide to take the last stack to the Lady's chambers since you had extra and her room was nearby.

Laying on her bed, her nightgown tossed aside, the Countess works her fingers in and out of herself, replaying the image of you in her head over and over again. Her other hand massages her breast, rolling her hardened nipple between her fingers. Just as she's beginning to feel her orgasm build there's a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" She asks, annoyed that she was interrupted.

"It's y/n, my Lady. I have extra firewood if you need for your room."

Lady Dimitrescu gets up and pulls her robe on, loosely tying it around her waist so she's covered, but open enough to leave little of her chest to the imagination.

The door opens and you look up to see the Countess. You have to snap your mouth shut when you look up to see her in her robe, her large breasts barely covered.

"Enter." She says standing aside. You walk into her room and place the wood next to her fireplace. The click of the door closing gets your attention and you turn to see the Countess slowly walking towards you, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Was that you I saw outside chopping wood this morning?" Her voice is stern.

You stare at her speechless. She did see you. You're not sure if you're afraid or aroused or both.

"Speak pet. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Y-yes, my Lady."

"I heard you alerted the maids whose responsibility it is to keep the wood pile stocked that it was running low and that the temperature was going to drop significantly tonight, when they did nothing, you took it upon yourself to do another maids work. Is that correct?"

You're fucked, she's pissed, you know it.

"Yes my Lady." You say, your voice barely a whisper.

"Why?"

"Be-because I know the cold can be dangerous to the Ladies of the castle and I-I didn't want any harm to come to them."

You're convinced that she's going to end you right then and there.

"How sweet of you, my little pet." You're taken aback when you realize how soft her tone is. Expecting her to be condescending, you don't sense a hint of it in her voice. She steps up to you, her golden eyes boring into your soul. "Would you like your reward?"

"Reward?"

"Of course, you spent your day off doing physical labor to keep my daughters safe. What kind of Lady would I be if I don't offer you a reward for all of your hard work and dedication?" You stare at her blankly, unsure of what to say. "I'll give you a few options then. You can either take extra vacation days, receive a monetary reward, or, another special reward." Her long fingers dance along the edge of her robe, down her sternum, between her breasts. She pulls the robe open just a touch more and her fingers come to rest at the loosely tied knot at her waist. "So pet, what will it be?"

You feel like you're hallucinating, there's no way this is happening. Of course you've admired the Lady from afar, almost every maid has. But to have her offer you herself as a reward? Did the axe smack you in the head?

Lady Dimitrescu leans forward, her face just inches away from yours. Your eyes flicker to her breasts hanging in front of you, barely covered by her robe anymore. Her gold eyes steal your attention and you notice her pupils dilating.

"Which reward pet? I already told you once, I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Sorry my Lady." You say quietly. "Um," you want to say the special one but suddenly you feel horribly embarrassed. "I-I" Your cheeks turn a dark red that rivals the lipstick painted across her full lips.

"Cat got your tongue?" She teases, her voice low and velvety. The only thing you can do it nod. "Is it the vacation you want?" You shake your head "no." "The money?" Again, you shake your head "no." She smirks, analyzing your face. "Is it the special reward?" You shake your head "yes" this time. "Use your words little pet."

"Y-yes, my Lady. Please."

"Excellent."

She places her hand on your chest and pushes you against the wall in one swift motion. The air gets pushed out of your lungs when you're slammed against the wall. Lady Dimitrescu wraps her hand around your neck and lifts you up against the wall until you're eye level with her. To your surprise, she hasn't cut off your airflow, holding you tight enough to effortlessly lift you, but not enough to choke you. Her knee parts your legs and she presses it up into your core, a whine escaping your lips when you feel her push into you.

She releases your neck, keeping you pinned against the wall with her body weight and her leg. Grabbing your wrists, she pins them above your head against the wall with one of her hands, her other hand firmly grasping onto your waist under your shirt. Her lips brush against yours, you can feel her hot breath on your face. You feel your core begin to throb and hope she doesn't feel it against her leg. Lady Dimitrescu closes her eyes and inhales deeply, she can smell your arousal. Her pupils are blown out when she opens them, the corner of her lip curling just a little.

Her hand under your shirt leaves your skin and she brings two fingers to your lips. Parting them, she slides them into your mouth. Your eyes widen when you taste them, something on them, were you tasting her?

"I was in the middle of something when you knocked on the door. As disappointed as I was to be interrupted, I was happy to see that it was you. I'm sure you can taste what watching you out there did to me. How lucky am I that now I get to have you all to myself?"

She pulls her fingers from your mouth. You're only able to let out a small whine before her fingers are replaced with her tongue. She pulls back with your lower lip between her teeth, pulling a moan from your lips as she does it.

"Now I get to do all of the things I fantasized about."

[sanctus-ingenium]

heya! I'm wondering, from where do you reference clothing for your art pieces? (Specifically for Inver!) I enjoy the outfits you draw your characters in

hii so for the fancier victorian-era outfits i used a whole bunch of sources but among them the metropolitan museum costume collection, this is a great online gallery of historical costume that you can search by era. you can also find illustrated fashion plates from the era to get a sense of how people styled the outfits, facial hair, accessories etc. here's one for hats i used. i also followed the twitter account WikiVictorian which.. due to new twitter policies you can't view accounts while not logged in, but it looks like they have a pinterest and also instagram?? anyway great resource, posted a lot of dresses, furniture, and historical recipes with sources & context.

(cut for length)

but those dresses and stuff are for the upper classes. For ordinary people i just googled what I knew every old lady wears: shawls

this is a galway shawl which is like. THE thing every single person wore back in the day and if you check out the wiki page it's a great reference for what patterns & dyes would have been used. from there you can find historical photos. i love photos like this which show a whole scene in context with people from multiple generations hanging out (yooo check out the Sparch in the background!!). now I know this isn't 1860s stuff, but the fact is that fashion doesn't move so fast for people like Clarion who live on a farm and have to make their simple clothing items last for a lifetime or more.

for the military outfits I mainly just googled 'military outfit 1860s' and iterated (groundbreaking). for things to be accurate i tried to pick reference illustrations drawn during the era.

i figure you might mean specifically the ancient Inver stuff so for them I used a lot of old illustrations and stuff from art history class in school. this era is more in the region of the 1500s. here is a kind of kitchy site which nonetheless has real-life examples of some of the clothing i drew. this painting is in my list of references (sorry for the stock image link but it's one of the nicest online reproductions of it) and you can see the guys on the right wearing the same léine that i've drawn Finbarr in. once you know the time period & what the various outfit components are called you can search them more easily. now the headdress i've drawn Finbarr wearing (Olivier wears it as well!) is in fact a real thing, it's the Petrie crown broken in half.

the crown is not of the same era as the other outfits because i'm not so interested in historical accuracy as much for these guys (booo).

for Olivier I searched for old French armour from the same historic era as Finbarr, I know less about the history of Brittany so kind of just copied what I saw with some small alterations (because he wears werewolf armour, which is not a thing irl).

[fantasy-relax]

Sweet Alpha Dangerous Omega

Part 11 Part 12

*WOSH* *TACK*

The arrow embedded in the tree; the deer you were aiming at ran away in seconds.

“Wow, dinner is ready, tree bark with earthen sauce” Daniela demonstrated her support eagerly.

“I've lost practice also I'm better at carpentry” You said defensively.

“I had never imagined it, I thought you just had an extreme hatred towards the flora” Daniela used your shoulder as an armrest. “After you hit two trees and one bush, it was a good theory.”

“I'm going to check the traps; you catch the deer” You said practically through clenched teeth.

“Are you bossing me around?” She moved away from you and crossed her arms, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“Please Daniela” Even though you tried to contain it, the frustration in your voice was obvious.

The redhead looked at you for a few seconds before speaking.

“Cassie is driving you crazy with her order, isn´t?” Daniela said as she rolled her eyes.

You kicked a stone.

“It doesn't matter if I follow her instructions down to the smallest letter, she always rejects the easel.” You grab your hair as you walked from one side to the other. “First she rejected complaining that it was too thick or too thin, too heavy, too light, too much varnish, not enough varnish” You sat on top of a log “Now she doesn't even give me a reason, she just destroys it!” You say desperate.

Daniela, always empathetic laughed softly at your lament.

"Really?"

"Well yesterday..."

°FLASHBACK°

You crouched down to avoid the easel that ended up crashing against the wall, breaking into pieces.

That had been your fifty-two try.

“And you're supposed to be Relia's replacement?” The mockery and disdain were easy to notice in her voice.

You turned to see the easel destroyed on the ground, you didn't know what bothered you more the fact that all the easels you have built have been destroyed without mercy or that you had to apply self-control because both you and your alpha were wagging their tails for the simple fact of that Cassandra was close to you, interacting with you, her scent dancing freely around the workshop.

Remaining calm you grabbed your notebook and a pencil.

“What was the mistake this time?” You thought you had finally had the right balance.

She looked at you calling you idiot with her eyes.

You were able to suppress the purr that wanted to come out of your chest, but not your scent that while it was too light for Betas to perceive it was clear to her.

Her brow furrowed in annoyance.

You didn't say anything with pencil and notebook in hand you kept your gaze on her, you had no intention of dominating her you just wanted to show her that she was monopolizing all your attention.

Her face relaxed slightly, you saw her swallow softly and noticed the slight pleasure in her scent. You bit your lip to keep from smiling, in these few days you had confirmed something you suspected during her past Heat: Cassandra loved being the center of your attention.

“Lady Cassandra?”

She blinked and her gaze filled with anger.

“Do it again and stop wasting my time, I have many projects delayed because of your incompetence” She said practically in your face, now it was you who was swallowing, she was so close, she blinked again and hissed showing her fangs before leaving.

The workshop was silent for a few seconds.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, Relia looked at you sympathetically.

“You'll make it, Thea made me build the same cabinet more than fifty times because it didn't meet her expectations, be patient.”

Your colleagues followed her example, giving you words of support.

“You just need a little more of work”

“You're almost there!”

“Look, this time she not threaten to break it over your head, I call that progress.”

You took a deep breath and then nodded.

"Almost"

°End°

“For what try are you going now?”

"For the number fifty-seven" You made four more in a single day and they were all rejected without giving details about their errors "It doesn't matter if I follow her instructions in detail, she doesn't like it and destroys it in seconds" Covering your face with you speak the truth “And yet I don't want to get it right because this is the closest I've been to her since her Heat.”

You felt a weight on your lap and out of habit you put a hand on Daniela's waist to prevent her from falling.

“Don't be discouraged, Cassandra is just being extra dramatic.” The redhead patted you on the head comforting you.

“The worst thing is that I don't know what exactly she feels or thinks about me” You rested your head on Daniela's shoulder “Her scent tells me one thing and from her mouth comes another” You hugged the Dimitrescu “If I'm going to be her Heat's partner at least I wish we could get along.”

“Is that all you want to be?” The redhead asked without any judgment in her voice as she caressed your back. “Just spend a week with her and nothing more, just have sex and that's it.”

“I already told you that Heat or Ruts are not just about sex Dani” You said rolling your eyes, you hated how all the inhabitants of the castle believed that an alpha only sought sexual pleasure during the Heat, all because of the alphas of the town acted like Pigs towards Beta women and like absolute beasts towards the Omega, you could count on one hand the Alphas who respected their Omegas Mates and did their duty properly.

"You don't answer my question"

You took a deep breath before responding, the pain of Cassandra's rejection still weighing on your chest.

“I thought that no one would ever choose me as a mate, temporary or permanent, I resigned myself to living the rest of my life in misery while trying to make peace with dying alone” Day after day, the same routine, just surviving “ Cassandra was the first Omega who didn't run away instead she challenged me without any fear, she showed her passion when she went into heat, she knew what she wanted it and would do anything to get it." You smiled remembering the brunette's actions. "At that moment both my Alpha and I knew that we could never deny her anything.”

“Cassie is not a traditional omega” Daniela said softly, “She will never be”

“Calling her my Omega will be more than enough” You whispered longingly.

The redhead didn't say more, she caressed your head and let you rest.

-------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------

Daniela caught two deer while you were collecting the rabbits caught by your traps, one of them had absolutely white fur, which had not been mistreated by your trap.

“It would be a good courting gift for the omega.”

“Daniela, can I keep this one?”

“I'm not sure, why do you want it?”

“I want to give it to Cassandra as a courting gift” You blushed as you heard the excited squeal of the redhead who dropped her load to grab your shoulders and shake you to the point of dizziness.

“YES, you have my full permission!”

“T-Thank you.”

After handing the animals to the kitchen staff, you asked Dorotthea for permission to use her tools while they proceeded with the meat preparations.

-----------------------------------------

Outside Cassandra's room you try to gather all your courage to knock on the door, every time you raised your hand the memory of her sneering at you froze you.

“Are you going to stay there all day?” Bela's voice surprised you and before you could respond, she knocked on the door smiling before vanishing into her swarm.

You heard footsteps and with your nerves on edge you proceeded to kneel with the rabbit fur raised in your hands.

The sound of the door being opened made you lower your head, partly to comply with the offering pose and to avoid looking at the brunette's reaction.

“For you Lady Cassandra”

Hope burned in your chest as you felt the fur being removed from your hands, you raised your head just to see how Cassandra threw the fur to the ground.

“Pathetic” With disinterest in her voice she continued “You haven't even been able to complete my order and you dare to come at me with more garbage, out of my sight.”

You moved to grab the fur, not wanting to make her hate you more, but someone was quicker.

"If you don't want it, I'll keep it, after all it's such a nice gift to be wasted." Bela held it carefully in her hands. "There's no problem, right Alpha?"

You closed your eyes to control your emotions, your Alpha did not have that ability whining in your head hurt for failing again to court the Omega.

“Is no problem, Bela.” Your alpha growled, annoyed by your decision, but you had never liked to waste things, and Bela was part of Cassandra's pack. A gift for her wasn't a bad decision.

“White looks good on me, don't you think?”

You stood nodding you didn't have the energy to talk anymore.

The blonde caressed your cheek and you rested your face on it seeking comfort, closing your eyes for a moment

“You are so sweet, dear Alpha.”

*THUMP*

The sound of the door startled you, you moved away from Bela's hand, but she brought you closer, placing your forehead against her.

“Don't be discouraged, if you want to win my sister's heart you have to persevere and survive her contempt.”

Survive, you know how to do that.

----------------------

*CRASH*

There goes your eighty-fourth attempt.

"Again!" Cassandra shouted before leaving.

You silently gathered your tools to start on the new easel.

Days had passed and the only change was that the middle daughter was more agitated and irritated with you. Every time you went hunting with Daniela you made sure to look for the perfect animal to give as a courtship gift, you prepared carefully and then went to Cassandra's room to be brutally rejected.

Daniela and Bela consoled you by accepting your gifts while they praised your ability, your Alpha stopped complaining when you gave them the gifts mean for Cassandra hurt by the Omega's cruel behavior, their sweet words gave you some peace.

Maybe you should carve a wooden figurine? Daniela had told you that Cassandra was a fan of art, something that was obvious from her order, showing your ability to build and create was an important part of courtship, an Alpha had to be able to create a shelter with their hands.

But if you couldn't create a simple easel there was no way she would accept another creation of yours.

What gift could you give her?

You finished your eighty-fifth attempt, but Cassandra did not go to the workshop to check it something that seemed strange to you however, you were distracted when Daniela entered.

“Hey Relia, there was a small accident in the library and one of the shelves broke.”

"Accident?" The carpenter asked with a mocking smile.

“Accident” Daniela crossed her arms, pouting.

"Are you OK?" You asked as you walked over to check her for injuries to which the redhead let out a laugh.

“You worry too much” She said, turning around in place to show that she was in perfect condition despite the dust on her clothes.

Seeing that she was alright, you walked away to start working however Daniela grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to hug you, rubbing her cheek against the right side of your neck. She let you go after a few seconds, smiling in a mischievous way.

“Bye!”

You brushed off the dust she left on you, smiling as you shook your head at the redhead's childish joke.

You were halfway through work when Bela arrived.

“Alpha come here.”

You left your tools and approached the blonde who having you closer grabbed you by your cheeks.

“Bela?”

The oldest laughed softly.

“Your classes are suspended until further notice” She said as she rubbed her hands on your face.

"Something happened?" Did you do something to offend her?

“You're not in trouble with me” She spoke calmly as she let go of your face to massage your shoulders and then rub your arms.

You yawned; Bela's scent was relaxing, more than once you had ended up sleeping in her office because of it.

She approached and rubbed against the left side of your neck and then walked away smiling with the same malice as Daniela.

“Remember to rest” Without further ado she left.

After finishing your work, you would go to sleep early.

----------------------------------------

Cassandra didn't go to the workshop all day; you tried not to think about it too much. Lady Dimitrescu probably asked her for help with some serious matter.

Or she just accepted the fact that you would never be able to complete her assignment.

You shook your head thinking like that would only bring you pain, you had to persevere.

Entering your room, you noticed a smell that was embedded in your mind.

Cassandra's scent.

You gulped as you looked towards your bed, hoping to find the brunette lying on top of it. However, the only thing you could see was the mattress.

Just the mattress. No sheets or pillows.

You looked at the laundry basket to find it just as empty.

You took a deep breath finally noticing the pheromones embedded in the scent.

“Omega is in heat”

Cassandra's heat has begun.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

After the Horse Has Bolted

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: T Word Count: 1899

Summary: Though they escaped execution, Guildford continues to struggle with his transformations and, worse, with dreams of losing Jane. A frank conversation with Susannah might help more than he expects it to.

He loves her like this, watching her move about the camp at twilight. She isn't the only person here with medical knowledge, and she lacks the experience to deal with more severe battle wounds, and some of the Ethians are steadfastly distrustful, but there are enough willing to let Jane close, and enough minor wounds, and, generally, enough patients to go around. Her skills are badly needed.

As Jane tends to people, Guildford feels a bit useless. Though he did try to help, he quickly realized it was all too unfamiliar for him to be of much use. Besides, these people don't extend the same welcome to him as they do Jane. He doesn't have her bedside manner, he supposes. Fuck them for finding him slightly jumpy and suspicious after one of their own (technically, one of his own, but fuck) attempted to murder him with iron manacles. But he thinks this without heat. These people are their allies—almost their only allies—and he's trying to see what Jane sees.

Mostly, he just likes seeing Jane. Jane in the early morning, scavenging in the woods for medicinal plants. Jane winning over strangers by sitting at their side to cut the thread of their stitches with her teeth instead sitting on the throne to sign a document they may never feel the benefit of. Jane alive. Guildford hasn't told her yet that he sees her differently when he closes his eyes. He sees her pristine white dress across the square, the black strip that blinds her. In his dreams, he watches helplessly as she kneels and the axe swings down. That's when he wakes up screaming her name.

Yeah, maybe that's another reason these people feel a little uneasy around him.

Except Susannah. Susannah's been marvellous. They've sort of met before—him below the stairs with the beautiful woman he would next see walking up the aisle of a church, her rushing down those stairs to warn Archer about the guards, then the night of the attempted assassination outside the old Ethian camp—but Susannah makes more of their acquaintance than it really is. She does it so the others will trust him, because they clearly trust her. They listen to her. It isn't long before Guildford learns it was Susannah who mustered the rescue party that saved his and Jane's lives, though he suspects as much even before it's confirmed. He sees their bond. He's grateful for it.

How grateful though, is the thing, when Susannah plonks herself down on the log where Guildford's seated, and follows his eyes, smirking to catch him gazing at Jane.

"D'you ever let your wife ride you?"

He can't look at her as he responds, "Just the once, escaping execution."

"Ah, y'know that's not what I mean."

"No, I don't know that," Guildford says stubbornly.

Susannah hunches forward and catches his eye.

"How come you're blushin' then?"

"Piss off."

"No."

He looks at her, and she's grinning. While Jane was raised a lady and Susannah supported herself in service, Guildford's found them to be cut from a very similar cloth. They're both unflinchingly bold when they want to be. Cautious, at other times, but not timid. Not everyone can tell the difference. He's been learning Jane, and is beginning to know Susannah, and he can tell she's teasing him for a reason. It might be friendly, or a protective test of Jane's husband's mettle, or something else. Whatever it is, Guildford realizes he's probably better off not trying to shut her out. They're persistent, these two women.

"Want to know why I'm asking?" Susannah prompts.

"I'm guessing you'll tell me."

"Very good!" She shifts closer and lowers her voice. "It's 'cause I've heard you screamin' your feckin' head off the last three nights."

"And you thought Jane was responsible?"

"Yeah, I hoped she was ridin' you like there's no tomorrow. Two reasons for that. You want 'em?"

"Terrific," Guildford says flatly.

"One," Susannah says, holding up a finger to show the count, "because back when Jane and I lived under the same roof, I was beginning to have serious concerns that she was never gonna let herself enjoy herself. It was a virgin you took to your marriage bed, Guildford, no question."

"You are nosy, aren't you?" He scowls at her, but Susannah stares back, unfazed.

"It's the same for her with me. If your hair wasn't curled already, she'd have stories to tell you that'd do the job."

"Please just get to your second reason."

Susannah sighs.

"If it's not Jane, somethin's troublin' you, and it can't go unaddressed. We can't have that. You'll either attract trouble to our camp or somebody already livin' in it'll stab you themselves to keep you quiet. Probably your wife."

Guildford sags. He knows she's right—the last thing he wants to be is a liability. He doesn't want to get anyone else hurt or killed. Especially Jane. Jane, who was sentenced to death for marrying him. Jane, who stood in the fire with him, the bond between them even stronger than the rope that wouldn't split. She would die for him. Without question, without thought, without hesitation. But he wouldn't survive getting her killed.

Susannah has fallen silent, apparently waiting for him to suggest a solution. Guildford doesn't know if this is an Ethian thing or just a Susannah thing: allowing that the person with the problem probably knows themselves best. He thinks it's likely that she's wrong in his case, believing himself the picture of stunted self-knowledge and repressed memories. He takes a deep breath. He can't be that man anymore. It doesn't do anyone any good, himself included.

"I keep dreaming she was executed. You and the Ethians don't come, and I can't get free of the ropes, and I see her beheaded." His own throat feels painfully thick as he forces the words out.

"I can see why that'd be botherin' you."

"It nearly happened," Guildford agrees.

"That's not why. I don't think it's about Jane."

"Of course it is!"

But Susannah's shaking her head.

"It's not her who's powerless, it's you. In the dream, you're tethered. Outside the dream, what is it you feel you can't control?"

Slowly, Guildford understands what she's getting at. He answers, "My transformation. My Ethianism." He narrows his eyes at Susannah. "You're very insightful."

"I'm not, actually. You just have a very straightforward problem: mental impotence. See it all the time in men. Tragic affliction."

He catches sight of her smirk and wants to shove her off the log.

"Have the two of you been able to fuck since the near-execution, by the way?" Susannah asks.

"Thank you for the advice, doctor," Guildford says sarcastically, head cocked to one side, "but that is really none of your concern. Try meddling in your own relationship."

"What relationship would that be?"

He frowns.

"Are you and Archer not...?"

"Archer?!" Susannah catches herself and continues more softly. "In his dreams. Not to be insensitive," she adds, making Guildford roll his eyes. "But no, definitely not. Trust me, if he'd been lucky enough to have me in his bed, he wouldn't have been lookin' at..."

It's far too obvious that Susannah has just caught herself again, but Guildford's glad she did. His trust in his wife is absolute. That doesn't mean he would appreciate Archer attempting to come between them. He rises, deciding to forget Archer and focus on Jane.

"Try the sex thing," Susannah says on their parting. "It might help, is all!"

"Try the minding your own business thing!"

Guildford actually does plan on trying something thanks to this conversation, but it's not sex. (Yet. Later? Gods, yes.)

He doesn't try to sleep that night, not yet. He lies on his back in the dark, listening to the low murmur of conversation from the lookouts tending the campfire, to the sound of his own even breathing. He stares up at the trees, their shapes black against the blue-black night. Sometimes, he stares past them at the stars.

Before dawn, Guildford gently rouses Jane from where she sleeps beside him. Between treating the injured and being startled awake by his screams, she hasn't been getting as much rest as she needs, but he hopes she'll understand. Taking her hand, he leads her to a clearing a short distance from the camp. Someplace they'll be able to see the sky change colour ahead of sunrise. They walk with soft steps. The yawn Jane can't stifle has the round, open notes of birdsong. Soon, real birds begin to sing. He wonders whether any Ethians are among them.

Gradually, everything brightens.

"Stand here," Guildford says, taking Jane's hands in his plea, then dropping them and backing off to a safe distance.

She doesn't argue. He's told her about his mother.

Before the light of day can rush across the horizon, Guildford closes his eyes and concentrates. There's no risk of imminent death to compel him now. He has to know if he can do it anyway. Instead of resisting thoughts of the past, he permits himself to recall how it feels to change, concentrating until the sensation is alive in him. Instead of disconnecting from the present, he inhales the earthy scent of the forest, shifts his boots on the ground, knows without looking that Jane is standing where he left her, waiting for him, trusting him.

He changes just before daybreak.

In this form, his hearing is keener, keen enough to pick up Jane's quiet gasp from across the clearing. His own steady breathing expands his strong lungs, drawing in details of his environment that are beyond his human senses. What he likes best is Jane's smile as she approaches him, the soothing strokes of her hands on his face. He stands there on four legs, enjoying her gentle touch and the heat of the sun on his flank, then, closing his eyes to the world once more, Guildford changes back.

He's stumbling forward into Jane's arms before he realizes he never moved away from her before trying to transform. Obviously, his human form is smaller and therefore less of a hazard, but Guildford isn't convinced that was the ruling instinct. It felt more like... he just knew he could do it. He was sure of himself, in that body and in this one, and in whatever he is during the fleeting moment in between.

"Guildford! How did you do that?" she demands, full of awe and urgent curiosity. "I haven't seen you control it since the night we escaped the Tower!"

Yes, that's true. After bearing her away from that place, he turned back into a man. That's how he was when the Ethians found them, and how he remained through the night. At dawn, he despaired, once again becoming a horse against his will. It persisted. Day, horse. Night, man. The terrible dreams. This morning has been Guildford's first time taking the reins, so to speak. It's a colossal relief, and he looks lovingly into Jane's eyes, knowing she understands that much, even if she can't yet explain the rest.

It seems to him that the best words to say are, "I've always wanted to kiss you at daybreak."

"That's a lot of effort for a kiss," Jane observes.

"Then you'd better make it worth it," he retorts with a grin.

And he holds her, and she does.

[ragzonacamrencruise]

Azutara bending swap?

hehehehe i got it.

okie hear meowt-

Aang didn't know what to think of this at all. Here's Sokka and Toph explaining their 'excellent' plan that Aang sure knows can be done successfully. But the reaction they might get out of this could be deadly.

"I- I donno, Sokka. This could be dangerous." Aang hesitates. "I've never tried it before-"

Sokka interjects. "There's always a first time for everything. And besides, they wouldn't even know what hit 'em! See, all you have to do is . . ."

And so, that night, when the complete Gaang had finally fallen asleep around their makeshift campsite in their respective tents, Sokka wakes up Aang to carry out their mission. It's very simple in Sokka's head, but it's Aang who's sweating under his knees trying not think of what might happen if-

"Shhh." Sokka holds a finger up his lips. "We need to be sleek and stealthy." He guides them through the soft grass, trying not to make a sound.

Aang cannot help but shiver. Sokka has a brilliant mind. But sometimes, just sometimes, it comes up with shitty ideas like this one and Aang cannot help but follow through with them. Call it brotherly love, or genuine curiosity, it doesn't matter.

Sokka suddenly stops before a blue tent. "I'll go and check if she's asleep. Wait for my signal, and then you can come in and do your thing." He disappears quietly inside the tent.

Aang waits patiently for what feels like an eternity but he knows it's only been a few seconds. He jumps out of his skin in jitters when Sokka's head peeks out again. "We're on."

Aang gulps, stepping inside the tent slowly. It's dark inside but he can fairly make out a figure wrapped in blankets, sound asleep. Katara's figure.

He moves near her with surprising speed, suddenly filled with the urge to get this over quickly. He kneels down before placing one thumb on Katara's forehead gently and the other thumb on her chest wrapped in blanket.

A blinding bluish glow fills up the tent before dying down as quickly as it came.

Aang then repeats the process, and this time, an orange glow fills up the tent and dies down again. When Aang opens his eyes, Katara's still sleeping like a log, exhausted from the day's work and training.

One down, one to go.

---

Aang has always been an early bird. But today, he doesn't wanna wake up. Or at least, doesn't wanna sit up and join the others. He's been up all night anyways. Although, he can hear everything that's happening around the camp as clearly as a spirit lake.

That is, Sokka screaming his lungs out. "ZUKO! I CAN'T SEEM TO GET THE FIRE GOING FOR BREAKFAST!! WAKE YOUR LAZY ASS UP AND FIREBEND!!!!"

Aang knows Zuko's still in bed like an old lady. But what he didn't expect is to hear Azula's voice.

"I can help with that." She says smugly.

Aang peeps one eye open, not wanting to miss out on the fun but at the same time, not wanting to get caught in crossfire when things go south too.

Sokka gives her a knowing smirk. "Sure you can." He says sarcastically.

"Now, now, Sokka. Is this how you treat a Fire Princess who's trying to become go- GOO-" She chokes on the word. "God damn it! I can't even say the word!!"

"Well, if you insist . . ." Sokka trails off before standing up and moving aside.

Azula takes a deep breath calming her posture. But it really seems like Aang is the one who's supposed to be taking deep breaths cuz he fears after a minute, these are going to be his final.

When the Fire Princess jumps high, spinning mid-air to deliver a perfectly executed firebending kick, a hugh blob of water appears out of no where, and splashes on the firewood stacked under the pot meant for breakfast, drenching it wet. The force of the splash is so high, Azula gets drenched as well, following Sokka, who's jaw is practically on the floor by now.

Azula is the first to come to her senses. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Aang notices Toph's face turn red as she's trying to hold in her laughter. Azula, not believing her eyes, demonstrates a series of double-punches, all of which results in blobs of water splashing this way and that, hitting every single person present on site.

"What's going on here?!" Katara walks in, carrying another bout of firewood, before getting hit by a water whip straight to her face. "OW!"

Katara looks all around, amazed. Isn't she the only waterbender in their Gaang?! Then who hit her?! Then she takes in the scene before her, mouth slowly falling agape.

"Katara! Check it out!" Suki exclaims. "Azula's waterbending!"

"That's impossible." Katara lets the firewood in her arms drop down to the ground.

"Oh yeah?" Sokka crosses his arms over his chest. "Say that to the wood that is soaking wet right now. All I wanted, was a little fire to light up the stove. But guess who decided to waterbend and ruin it!!"

"Hey! I didn't even know I could do that!" Azula yells at Sokka's head.

"So, you're saying we all knew you could do that?!"

Azula looks confused, squinting her eyes in disbelief. "Wha-?"

"Sokka," Katara looks at her brother suspiciously. "Did you mix cactus juice into our dinner yesterday night?"

"No!" His voice reaches a higher octave. "Why would I do that?!"

"Why are we all seeing visions then?!"

Aang wishes he had some fire flakes right now, snacking on them as he watches this drama unfold. Ember Island Players could never. He's pretty sure Toph's thinking the same too.

"Guys, relax." Toph says, leaning back on Appa, sitting on the ground and crossing her legs. "Katara can easily take out the water from your precious firewood, Sokka. Don't be such a wuss. Right Katara?"

"Right . . ." Katara says, just as she takes a stance, readying herself for some concentrated waterbending. She turns towards the firewood kept under the pot, and moves her hand upwards in one fluid motion.

To everyone's disbelief and shock, the firewood first smokes steam and then suddenly bursts into violet-coloured flames, burning bright before turning to orange, then red.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Aang doesn't even have to look to know who said that.

"Okay, now I'm definitely worried." Katara's face is filled with horror. "I can firebend?!"

Azula pinches the bridge of her nose. "It's too fucking early for this shit-"

"Aang!" Katara calls out. "Get over here!!"

Aww man! Just when he thought things were getting interesting-

"Coming!" Aang calls out as he jumps up and sprints towards the crime scene. "What? What's wrong?"

"This." Katara says, before she catches hold of a screetching Momo and lights his tail on a violet fire.

Azula rolls her eyes before issuing a punch, that hits both Katara and Momo, putting out the fire and bathing them in water. "And this."

Aang knows he's supposed to be acting surprised. But he does a terrible job at it. "Maybe . . . you guys are the Avatars . . . ???" He trails off with a guilty look on his face.

Katara narrows her eyes. "Aang . . ." She threatens him, instantly aware that he somehow knows something. "What is going on?"

She looms over him, casting a glare. Aang tries his best to not pee his pants. "I- I- I donno, I- I just woke up!"

Sokka comes to his rescue thankfully. "Maybe somehow your powers got swapped?"

Katara turns to him, still not getting out of Aang's personal space. "How is that even possible?"

"Yeah." Azula chirps in. "How's that possible? I've got blue flames. That peasant conjured up violet ones."

"Maybe you're just jealous that I got the hottest burning fire." Katara crosses her arms at Azula.

"Maybe I can shut that flame up with a flick of my wrist!" Azula says, stomping her way towards Katara, standing toe-to-toe with her, nose almost bumping with Katara's.

"Uh . . . guys?" Aang scratches his bald head taking two steps back, growing increasingly confused and concerned. "Maybe we can calm down and talk about this-?"

"Maybe you're an idiot to think that you could ever shut me up!" Katara bits back at Azula. paying no heed to Aang's feeble attempt at peace.

"Maybe you're an idiot to think that I couldn't!!"

"Oh!" Katara exclaims. "Do it then!! I dare you to shut me up!!"

"Let's go, peasant. AGNI KAI!!"

"Oh, did you forget, little princess?" Katara asks sarcastically, inching closer to Azula. "You're not a firebender anymore. Maybe you need to get your memory checked."

Azula steps even closer, if that's even possible. "Maybe I don't need my fire to shut you up."

"Mayyyyyybeee," Toph interjects, finger up her nostril, picking her nose non-chalantly. "You two need to kiss and save us all the trouble."

"WHAT?!"

"WHAT?!"

Both Azula and Katara turn to Toph with a panicked look on their faces.

"T- That's absurd! What are you talking about, Toph?!" Katara stutters, even as she looks at Azula's side profile for a second longer and takes a step backwards.

"I'm talking about what I'm seeing." Toph says smugly.

"You're blind." Azula states.

"Yeah, but my feet don't lie. Every time you two get heated, and trust me that's a lot of times, you both get in each other's face like this and spew out empty threats as if my feet can't figure out you two are lying! At least, I know you are lying, Katara. I got nothing on Azula except a faster heartbeat."

Azula's eyes narrow to slits, but other than that, there's no reaction from her. Katara steals a glance at Azula once again before she turns to Toph. "What does that have to do with our bending getting swapped?"

"Uh . . . I was the one who did it-" Aang raises his hand slowly, with a sheepish look on his face.

"AANG!!" Sokka cries out. "You made a personal Avatar promise not to divulge this information!!!"

Katara's anger immediately shifts to Sokka. "So you are the mastermind behind this . . ." A captivatingly pretty violet flame lights up in her palm as she slowly moves to Sokka.

"Katara . . ." Sokka gulps. "I can explain . . ."

"Zip it."

"Look . . . your fights were getting pettier and frequent and you both idiots couldn't see what we all were seeing so we thought-" Sokka begins to take steps back as Katara turns her back to Azula and advances slowly towards him.

"We're not giving your bending back until you either make up and be civil or make out and be civil." Toph states firmly.

But Katara wasn't showing signs of stopping anytime soon on her death walk towards Sokka.

Azula rolls her eyes. "Make up and be civil sounds too boring and wayyyy too long for me. And I want my bending back now. So . . ."

As quick as her own lightning, she moves behind Katara who's still advancing towards Sokka. Azula stops her with a hand around her delicate wrist, and pulls her flush against her body. Katara lets out a surprised yelp as she finds herself being whipped around by her waist to face Azula, her breath frozen inside her lungs, too surprised to even blink.

A soft smirk escapes Azula's lips before she places two fingers under Katara's chin, tilting her face up to plant her lips on hers in a gentle kiss. Katara's too frozen with shock to reciprocate. When she finally does, the kiss is already over. Nothing overdone at all. Just a soft chaste kiss against her lips and Katara feels like she needs to sit down, suddenly weak in her knees.

"There." Azula says proudly. "Now give us our respective bending back."

Katara blinks up at Azula, still stuck in a daze. "You . . . traitor! Who gave you permission to just . . . take advantage of me like that?! How dare you-?!"

"You're a terrible liar, Katara." Toph interrupts her.

"Oh, yes you are." Azula agrees with a smile.

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh?" Azula mocks disbelief. "Then why are you still holding onto me like this?" She gestures with her eyes down to Katara's hands.

Katara follows her line of sight and almost has a heart attack as she finds herself completely wrapped up in Azula's arms and her hands holding onto Azula's shoulder and neck desperately.

"UGH!!!!" She exclaims as she lets her forehead fall down to Azula's shoulder, burying her face in embarrassment. "You people are driving me insane!!!!!"

Everyone present on crime scene laughs except Katara.

Zuko walks out of his tent, rubbing his good eye and yawning. "Hey, what are we laughing about? What did I miss?!"

"Okay, who's gonna tell him?" Toph says before escaping the scene.

***

i keep writing mini fanfics instead of drabbles for these prompts and im so sorry 😭🖐🏻 it's like my mind wont stop until i spit out every little detail. it's annoying at this point.

okie lemme know what you think abt what i did with this one!!!!

[superman86to99]

Action Comics #702 (August 1994)

Bloodsport (not the black one, the anti-black one) returns, which means this is gonna be another distressingly violent issue, but hey, at least we get to see Superman hit a Nazi! Right off the bat, we start with Bloodsport mowing down a nice black family because he wants to, as he puts it, "Keep Metropolis Clean." After the "Fall of Metropolis" storyline, the place is pretty messy, so I guess what he actually wants to do is Make It Clean Again, but I digress.

Meanwhile, Ron Troupe, who helped get rid of Bloodsport the last time he popped up, is working on an article in Lois Lane's borrowed laptop, which is apparently the only working computer in Metropolis right now. When they hear about Bloodsport shooting people up on a bridge, Lois and Ron rush there and arrive right in time to watch Superman get owned by pink goo. Racist pink goo.

(New writer David Michelinie sure loves covering guys in goo, huh?)

Bloodsport recognizes Ron (so he can tell black people apart), who once again has a chance to shoot him but can't bring himself to do it. Bloodsport is like "thanks, now I'll kill you anyway" and shoots at Ron but ends up killing a police officer instead. She looked Latina, though, so I guess that's still a win for him.

By the time Superman has freed himself from The Nazi Goo™, Bloodsport has left for "the largest African-American neighborhood in Metropolis," and not precisely to experience the rich culture and cuisine. Once Superman gets there, Bloodsport teleports a bunch of automated guns all around him, which don't look terribly intimidating to someone with bulletproof skin... until Bloodsport points them outwards, targeting random people in the neighborhood to keep Supes distracted while he goes off to do more hate crimes. I regret to inform you that this makes this racist asshole smarter than 90% of criminals Superman has fought.

While Superman deals with that, Ron, feeling guilty because that cop lady died due to his inability shoot guns, decides to fight Bloodsport through something he's actually good at: journalism. And also by logging into Lois' notebook without permission, but I'm pretty sure she'd understand (you'd think she would have gotten stronger passwords after Lex Luthor hacked her, though). Ron uses his own reporting and the dirt Lois recently dug up on Luthor to find out that all those guns Bloodsport can teleport on demand are currently being stored at the LexCorp tower. Luckily, it's much easier to sneak in there since half the place got blown to shit.

The next time Bloodsport tries to teleport a gun to his hand, he gets something else: a handful of molten metal, courtesy of Ron. Turns out Ron can't pull a trigger, but he's perfectly capable of pulling the pin on a grenade.

Without his teleporting guns, Bloodsport is just a regular bigot in a silly costume. Superman doesn't even deign himself to punch this worthless scum with his whole hand, since a finger will do.

Later, Clark compliments Ron on his bravery, but Ron says the real hero is everyone who goes through their day not being a racist asshole. Pretty low bar, Ron, but a nice sentiment.

NEXT: Zero Hour! Finally!

Creator-Watch:

As mentioned, this is the first issue written by Roger Stern's replacement, David Michelinie, fresh off his long run in Spider-Man comics where, among other things, he co-created Venom, the character who still keeps him infrequently employed at Marvel. This is a bit more violent and darker than I like my Superman comics to be (not surprising from the guy who introduced Iron Man's alcoholism and killed Aquaman's Aquababy) -- I'm not sure I like Clark smiling at the end when so many people died in the issue, including a little girl. At least he didn't wink this time!

But, other than that, I think this is a solid done-in-one story and I appreciate having Ron actually contribute to the plot in a meaningful way. Michelinie clearly did his homework in regards to the continuity and seems to have a good handle on the characters, particularly Lois and Clark. Their interaction in this issue is kinda hokey, but come on, it's Lois and Clark. They're allowed to be hokey.

However, I do remember having one serious complaint about Michelinie's run the first time I read it: an almost complete lack of Bibbo, which is unforgivable. We'll see how accurate that impression is.

Plotline-Watch:

Bloodsport says he survived the explosion in his last appearance because the circuitry in his weapon teleporter got "jangled" and teleported him away. Wait, so he suffered a teleporter malfunction in a comic and didn't become fused with his guns or something? Missed opportunity, if you ask me. At the very least he could have gained the ability to teleport at will, like a racist Nightcrawler. Maybe he could have inexplicably gained a German accent too.

Jimmy Olsen, who's apparently been looking for Lucy Lane since he ditched her with some wannabe rocker girls during the Massacre storyline (that had to be days ago, right?), finally finds her with those same girls, but it's okay because they're friends now. Lucy tells tells Jimmy that the Riot Grrrls invited her to that charity concert for rebuilding Metropolis we've been hearing about lately, the mere mention of which seems to offend Jimmy. Don Sparrow says: "I want to believe Jimmy’s 'whatchoo talkin' bout Willis' expression is due to his shared (with me) hatred of Jeb Friedman, the concern organizer." That, or he remembered that the concert headliner, his old friend Babe, owes him $5.

I've been reading several DC comics published in August 1994 and this is one of the few that didn't include any teasers for Zero Hour whatsoever (stuff like the future city in Green Lantern #54 or the dinosaurs in the latest issues of Guy Gardner: Warrior). At the time, some might have thought that having a full-on Nazi running around in the present could count as an anachronism but, uh, I think we've established by now that that's sadly not the case...

Plug-Watch:

On the subject of Superman punching Nazis, I fully recommend our old pal Patrick Ryall's "Superman vs. Bigots" column at The Avocado, where he goes over instances of Superman Family characters facing bigots across the ages, from the time Supes arrested Hitler in the '40s to the "Perry White vs. the Ku Klux Klan" issue from this era (which we haven't covered yet, so spoilers). Good stuff!

Now a self-plug: as mentioned in our post for the time-displaced Action #642, I've been putting together a sort of Superman '86 to '99 reading guide at my fav'rit current social media site (sorry, BlueSky), League of Comic Geeks, where I'm writing a short blurb about every issue from this era mentioning what's special, noteworthy, or weird/funny about it. At first I was just copying a paragraph or two from our old posts and throwing in a "read more" link, hoping to drive more readers to the newsletter, but I've started rewriting them to be more like something you'd see in an episode guide or a book about the '86-'99 period... which is an intriguing idea. Anyway, here's that reading guide link again, because this paragraph doesn't have enough clickable words in it already: https://leagueofcomicgeeks.com/profile/mrmxy/lists/58097/superman-86-to-99-checklist-wip

Shouts Outs-Watch:

Nazi-punching shout outs to our supporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, Dave Shevlin, and Dave Blosser! Join them (and get extra non-continuity articles; we've got some cartoon-related ones lined up) via Patreon or our newsletter's "pay what you want" mode!

To see more of Don's take on this issue, including his thoughts on Jimmy's physique, keep reading!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it keeps the tradition of other Bloodsport covers where Bloodsport is firing a ridiculously high-calibre weapon.  I know the cover text (which generally I dislike) is ironic in this context, but it still bugs me slightly—Bloodsport’s views are so poisonous, even as a villain I hate seeing them represented. But buckle up, because there’s a whoooooole lot of that in this issue.

Lucky for me I’m mostly here to focus on the art, and it’s good throughout, as upsetting and violent as some of the visuals are.  The doomed, completely innocent family who are mowed down by gunfire on page 3 are very well drawn—and coloured—I love rim-lighting, and it’s rarely rendered in orange.

An odd thing happens on page 5, which you sometimes see—artists get so used to drawing everyone with superheroic proportions that even civilians get He-Man action figure physiques—this happens with Jimmy Olsen in that first panel (yes, another Superman song reference on a Jimmy Olsen t-shirt, this time it’s Crash Test Dummies being given a shout-out) looking pretty ‘roided out complete with obliques visible through his shirt.  Not to say that I don’t think Jimmy’s in good shape, but typically he’s a bit more average in build, or so it seems in this suggestive pin-up by Jerry Ordway in 1988…

[Max: You have no idea the amount of research Don did to find that pin-up, which both of us remembered but couldn't place (it turned out to be in the incredible Modern Masters: Jerry Ordway book by TwoMorrows), but it was 100% worth the effort.]

Moving on, the upside down takeoff on page 13 is well done.  Jackson Guice’s Superman always seems to have slightly longer hair than how the other artists draw him, but it’s a consistent thing, so I can’t complain too much.  There’s an unfortunately Michael Jackson-looking Superman grimace on page 18 (shamone), but by the end of the story, Superman’s extremely ticked face is a great panel.

SPEEDING BULLETS:

The Daily Planet offices are, apparently, very near Boring Plaza, named after longtime Superman great, Wayne Boring.

GODWATCH: Dig the beat cop, Marcy, characterizing Superman as an answer to prayer on page 8.  As things go wrong in other places in the book, both Ron Troupe and Superman invoke the almighty in frustration or despair.  Lastly, as Clark and Ron bond in their agreement that racism is gross and wrong, and share an amen.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Bloodsport does not support the then-current Democratic President, Bill Clinton. 

Same as the last time this Alexander Trent version of Bloodsport popped up, I find this an extremely troubling issue.  I get that Bloodsport is a villain, and a dastardly one at that. But even so, I hate some of the words and views he’s sharing—words I don’t even want to type to repeat here—appearing in a Superman comic at all.  With characters this heinous, we almost need an editorial box disclaiming Trent’s statements, as they go unchallenged in the narrative as the character monologues to himself.  Similar to the last issue with Bloodsport, there’s an awful lot of carnage and innocent death for a comics code book, and it’s something I think the better Superman stories steer away from.  It’s hard not to be bothered by the juxtaposition of a black family being gunned down discriminately against Lois and Clark comfortably flirting.

Kudos to Ron for figuring out where Bloodsport’s weapons cache was, but, like in the last appearance of this Bloodsport, I can’t help but wonder why Superman doesn’t try to ionize the air around Bloodsport using his heat vision, since it was so effective the first time he faced this kind of teleporter tactic.  A single line of dialogue could have hand-waved it away, but it seems like a missed opportunity. [Max: True. I would have even taken a "Drat, can't do that since I already did it in another issue! Gotta mix it up!"]

Some small irony that it was a clone war that reduced Metropolis to rubble in this issue, in the first issue from new Action Comics writer David Michelinie, who slinked away after kicking off the wildly controversial Clone Saga over in Spider-Man before joining DC Comics.

Any serviceman’s death in the line of duty is a tragedy, but this Carroll O’Connor looking sergeant must have been pretty close to his pension as it was, no? [Max: I think Bloodsport spared him, though... probably because he loves Archie Bunker so much.]

Missed an issue? Looking for an old storyline? Check out our new chronological issue index!

[adarlingmess]

"Raphael is a bottom" "Sorry ladies your man wants to be topped" "Hate to break it to you but he's bad in bed" etc etc

Have you considered: shutting the hell up because we know and we love him. I don't know why some of ya'll are so worked up about a fictional devil's sex life that you feel the need to spoil the fun for folks who enjoy the character.

But if we're going to be tedious about this, It's heavily implied that he enjoys sexual activities outside of his boudoir. There's the body shot comment. There's his leering gaze towards our Tav, and towards Astarion when he strips him naked in the event that Astarion hasn't revealed his scars yet. Korrilla's logs of his interactions with Hope also reveals that his intentions with Hope are also chock-full of sexual innuendo.

Haarlep tells the player that if he lies with anyone in their form, the person would feel it, so there's the angle that Raphael is masturbating using a living sex toy with a few extra steps. Of course he wouldn't give a damn about Haarlep's pleasure if that's how he views him. There's also the angle of Haarlep possibly lying and deliberately talking shit about Raphael because he is sent by Mephistopheles to spy on his son.

Some of you never learned reading between the lines from your 8th grade English class and it shows.

Anyway, sexuality is often a complicated thing both in real life and in fictional depictions. Autosexuality is slowly being discussed in queer circles and folks who are attracted to themselves are often attracted to other people as well, quite possibly folks who share some qualities that they do.

Lastly, it's all a bit of fandom fun. Trust me, the folks who enjoy the characters know this and will choose to ignore it or write around it because a majority of the creative side of fandoms doesn't care about canon when it comes to creating content.

Not all of us are nerds who only enjoy canon-compliant content. I don't wanna read too deep into this, but transformative works are often associated with female and queer members of the fandom, so maybe examine your biases and motivations on why you feel the need to correct people who engage in the creation of such works.

[daisy-mooon]

Portraiture;

Portraits of the Emperors, and what those paintings mean to them.

Portrait Two - Shrub

Back at home, they had a thing called...

Shrub doesn't even remember its name anymore. Not exactly. She sounds the syllables out on her tongue. Cam-uh-ruh. It could take pho-toes of someone, print them out perfectly, albeit in black and white. She has one, tucked safely next to her heart in the pocket of her silky coat. She doesn't show it to anyone. Who would believe her? They don't have cam-uh-ruhs here. She tried to explain it once, to Fwhip and he looked at her in confusion so... she let it go.

She- well. The Undergrove is not empty of its people, it's only that it is filled with spirits and supernatural beings that don't understand the rules of human made empires. It's a wild place for wild things. Shrub is just the head of it, the gnome in charge of making sure other mortals don't interfere with it. Chosen by the land. Some of the more pretentious nobles in Mythland or Rivendell might huff at that, but it's true. It can't be challenged, not without a lot not of wrath on the behalf of the spirits.

Becayse the spirits are spirits and don't abide to the laws of mortal-kind, the Undergroves Empress- (Empress? The word doesn't feel right for her. The spirits refer to her as Lady Shrub, sometimes, and that doesn't feel right either) -is mysterious. There are no paintings of her. But that doesn't mean she doesn't need one. Gem says they need paintings for historical purposes, and Katherine says they need paintings for diplomatic purposes, and Joel says they need paintings for the fun of it and manages to drag her into a long winded conversation about gnomeish art practices that she only half-remembers.

But she can paint- can't she? A little bit. Well. She can make an okay flower. She more remembers her parents weaving. But there's no reason why she can't make her official portrait by herself.

Shrub takes one of the fallen logs in the grass outside of her home and splits it into two. She takes the wooden face, takes the paints that Katherine had given her and places them alongside the tubs of dye she has prepared herself, and readies her brush. It's homemade and scruffy, but it should get the job done.

It takes her a long time. Longer than she thought. How did Mezealeans do this? Katherine offered to hire one for her, one of the travelling Mezalean painters that seemed to have paint every nobleman under the sun, but Shrub is determined to do it herself. It wouldn't feel... right, otherwise.

When it's done- oh, when it's done-

It doesn't look like her.

Shrub picks the paintbrush back up. She's nothing if not resilient, so this time she buys a smaller paintbrush from the Crystal Cliffs and the grabs obsidian mirror from her bedside table, and tries again. At least, now, she has a foundation. Painters need foundations to paint on, don't they?

And she tries again.

And again.

And again, until it looks just right.

Xornoth almost ruins it once. Then Joey. Then the rain itself, because she tried painting outside and almost forgot to take it back in. But she keeps going. She has too, doesn't she?

Katherine is the first person she shows it too, and Katherine gasps upon seeing it. Katherine will gasp upon seeing anything that Shrub makes, delighted to see her crafts, but she can tell that she genuinely does love this portrait. "It looks just like you!" She cries in delight. Grinning, Shrub leans in and stares at Katherine's eyes as she talks. "Can we replicate it?"

Shrub has no qualms with House Blossoms artists making copies of the painting. "Of course!" And so it becomes the official portrait of her, and becomes worth far much more because the original was a self portrait, but she doesn't care about that. What she cares about-

Katherine has one done on a polished wooden panel and has it hung in her bedchambers. And then she has a miniature produced, one tucked inside a locket necklace that she can wear around her neck and open whenever she misses her. And then, because everyone wants to know what gnomes look like, Gem asks her to make a sketch of herself for research purposes, and then because Joel is supremely egotistical he asks if he can use one of the copies of her official portrait to create an eight foot tall mural of her. Joey wants one too, which she declines because whilst she's fairly sure Xornoth can't do anything too her through a painting she'd rather not find out. And then, and then, and then-

Shrub keeps the original in her house. It still has the tree bark on the back. A fae assistant had offered to sand it down for her, but she kept it. It feels better that way. It makes it feel weight. It makes it feel real, in a way that she struggles to feel with the grandiose oil paintings that are now scattered across the lands.

At the very least, she thinks too herself somewhat sadly, people will know what the gnomes looked like when they die out with me.

-

Historians note: Empress Shrub Berry of the Undergrove (or, as she is referenced to in spirit talk, simply, Lady Shrub or Lady Berry) is the only known gnome to exist in this world pre-Rapture. Whilst later developments in rifts, world walking and evolution meant there are now species similiar to the original gnomes that go by the same name, they are unrelated species and Empress Berry was the last gnome of her genetic species. There were no known survivors of Prince Xornoths massacre in her home dimension, and it has never been retraced.

As the only known, and last, member of her species, art of her is worth far more than other pre-Rapture art pieces. The original may be one of the most valuable pieces of art of all time, and is kept under careful care and constant surveillance to ensure its survival. All existing portraits of Empress Berry, other than a badly damaged anatomical sketch recovered in a Crystal Cliffs Others textbook, are all copied from this original, although others exist. The two most famous are the two miniatures were commissioned by her lover, Empress Katherine Elizabeth of the Overgrown, one a single locket with just Empress Berry in it and the other a double locket with both Berry and Elizabeth depicted.

[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game It starts -> here

After Jack - surprisingly - had the marvellous idea to try to log in together with Ji Ho to stop NPC Jeb from (= slightly nudge his subconscious to not to) alarm Gytha, Jack and Jeb are preparing for their mission. Kiyoshi is watching over them. Since Jeb is his best friend and Jack his fated 'mate', he seems to sense they are up to something potentially dangerous. Of course he does. He's a demon/diety.

Meanwhile, Saiwa and Tiny Can are upgrading the AI. And Sai is worried. He hopes it can handle the three of them and their attemt to 'remote control' NPC Jeb's actions ö.ö'. It's Ji Ho's Therapy Game after all and the AI might have his own plan on how it shall commence and stop them...

There is no way to test this. As soon as Ji Ho logs in, the ingame time and happenings will continue right from when and where he logged out. And there is no way to stop Ji Ho's therapy and simply load an older save. Not in this game. So there is no try - just do or do not...

After Sai called them down, he informs them (means -> Jack ^^') thusly to not try anything weird and endanger Ji Ho's therapy. As if logging in a game and try to control the NPC with their meditation skills wasn't weird enough ö.Ö'

Sai: "The same goes for you two!" Sai even threated Vlad to ban him from the PD again, should he try to interfere (again...). He only allows them to be down here to step in in a case of a (real) emergency. And not at the slightest sense of Ji Ho feeling unwell. Of course you feel unwell from time to time in a therapy...

Jeb and Jack are hugging Ji Ho to comfort him. And themselves. There's actually quite a lot that could go wrong. Not only ingame. They are connected to the game with their bodies, minds and feelings... Ach, and how Vlad wishes he could touch and reassure Ji Ho... But he'll have to be patient. As soon as they resolved this case they'll need to get help to find ways to defend themselves against Ji Ho's Siren's Spells and Songs. Should his evil grandfather really try to affect the Boys through them.

Sai has to leave the security door to the chamber open so he can have an ear and an eye on Jack and Jeb too. Mainly on Jack... Ji Ho: "Ok, let's do this. Are you ready?" Jeb: "Ready." Jack: "I was born ready!" Saiwa sighed - and started the game. (They are sitting on Jack's Blanket :3 )

As soon as he was ingame, Ji Ho decided to go all in. He trusts Jeb and his abilities to stop NPC Jeb before he could give alarm. So he just goes with the truth. Well, a version of it since he can't reveal he's looking for the banned Heir (should NPC Jeb - contrary to expectations - be an anti ö.Ö').

Princess Jihovere: "I'm looking for the One I can't live without! I broke in to find out where the Vicegerent went so I can follow him and take back what's mine!"

NPC Jeb: "We are - too - looking for the One my friend Jack here can't live without." (Since NPC Jeb does not know the Princess, he probably thinks telling this weird girl the story about how his friend Jack got his heart ripped out and had it replaced with a gem by a werewolf in a horrifying frankenstein manner wasn't a good starter for their newly forged fellowship ^^') So NPC Jeb was trying to break in too - to help Jack find his heart! Phew, so he wasn't about to give alarm and Ji Ho worried for nothing. But who could have known that ^^' Better safe than sorry.

Since NPC Jeb also is the piano player at the 'Salty Mermaid', he must have witnessed the Vicegerent's sudden, suspicious leave with the Demon, the Sculptor and the two crates and decided to follow them. Princess Jihovere: "Maybe we could join forces? I have enough money but no idea where to find a ship and a fierce, reckless Captain." NPC Jeb: "I know exactly where to find that One!"

Lady Mimsy on the painting still stares reproachfully at them ^^'

NPC Jack doesn't look like as if he is responsive yet... But maybe Jack can dive into his memories of the night he died? They discussed this earlier. Sai was still concerned Jack had to relive his death, but the others agreed that it's just like watching a scene in a movie. Jack wouldn't have to experience his death with all the pain and horror of dieing again first hand. It surely wouldn't be more horrible to watch than Han being frozen in Carbonite ö.Ö' (for Jack at least ^^')

But sadly Jack didn't gain access to NPC Jack's memories... He didn't push too hard either. Even though he's dieing to learn what happened the night he died, he wouldn't endanger Ji Ho's therapy. They would find out sooner or later, he's sure.

'I see love walk away Didn't use a blade A bullet or a gun You poisoned the moonlight When you put out the sun'

The night you murdered love - ABC

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[elmoslungcancer]

Howl x Male reader

Angst? Happy ending

Lowercase when words should be uppercase is probably common. As well as there is probably incorrect punctuation.

Big ass paragraphs as well.

Went to look at my drafts and saw this calling my name.

It was peaceful and quiet. Calcifer's fire makes the room feel warm, cozy, and safe. You don't wake up because of the quietness, you wake up because there is no chaos hell even Calcifer isn't talking up a storm.

Howl had a break down earlier and ran off somewhere you were waiting for him, lately every time something doesn't go his way it seems to set off a bomb inside of him. He isn't the best with expressing his feelings all you wish he would do is talk it out as a normal couple. Though it is better than screaming at you and having to clean up the green goo.

As you toss another log to calcifer even though he already has three, you sit back on the rocking chair, and you wait hoping to hear the click. You want to see his face; you want to scream at him, you want to be angry at him, you want to ignore him, give him the silent treatment when he tries to act like nothing happened, but who are you fooling to think you'll just ignore him.

You hear the wheel click at least you thought you did. It could be anyone though. Was it Sofie? She's a sweet girl, but lately she's been working on her hat business. Plus it was too late for her to be coming here. You've tucked Markl into bed already. Even though he claims he's a big boy that can take care of himself, he still loves it when you tuck him in, read him a story, give him a kiss on the forehead, and wish him sweet dreams as you shut his door.

You start to feel drowsy so you get off the rocking chair and give calcifer another log, even though he insists he will be good for the night. You tell him it's a treat, to think of it as a thank you for keeping you company, and keeping you warm. While you walk up to the table you pick a plate and lay it on the table, and you grab a box of some pastries you got early from a bakery. The ladies there were so sweet and kind it made you smile a little while setting some on the plate for when he returns.

You close the box and leave the it on the counter, not on a shelf too high in case Markl wakes up in the night, and wants a quick snack before he goes back to bed. You rinse and dry your hands off and walk upstairs, but not without saying goodnight Calcifer. As you lay on the bed you stare up at the ceiling where clocks stare back at you. You know this isn't a healthy relationship. Yes fights are common in relationships healthy or not. Not being able to talk about them because your partner is having a tantrum, and you have no clue where he is not normal.

You want to set boundaries no you need to. You can't be the only one wanting to make this work out. You hear the door open and hear Calcifer screaming, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED M/N WAS?" There was no point it was a cycle. After Howl comes back home from wherever he decided to head off to. He ignores Calcifer, heads upstairs takes a shower and comes to lay down in bed with you. You start to fall asleep but then you feel a body next to you hugging you from behind. You try to ignore it as he always does this but then you feel him start to cry. You feel shocked because he usually just passes out, but this is new.

"m/n.." he mumbles in-between your shirt and his hiccups. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry! What I'm doing is wrong..I want to break out of those habits...but I can't it's hard. It's not right for me to drag you with me. Please let me make it up to you." He says as he buries his head deeper into your back and holds onto you tighter. So you tap his arms signaling him to let go, he does as well as scooting back to give you some space. You turn to face him, but seeing his tear stained face hurts you. You always hated seeing Howl cry. You cup his face and nuzzle noses together.

"Howl, yes I am upset you keep running away instead of talking this out like adults. I want you to try to stop doing it, I know it won't happen right away as it's a cycle for you, but I want you to try to break that cycle." You say as you pet his hair and move it out the way to give him a forehead kiss. His eyes widden and start filling up with tears and he buries his head in your chest. You pet his hair as his body shakes.

"I love you Howl and I want us to work, but it takes two. We will talk more later in the morning. I want us to set boundaries, I want you to tell me what's a clear no in your book, and what's in mine. Let's rest for now, but I want you to know I love you very much Howl and don't forget it." As you finish you kiss his head and wrap your arms around him.

How writing this made me feel:

Anyways thanks for reading

[itsblasttothepast]

(I'm the same anon from the log posts so sorry again but I wanted to add something)

You are so right with this, but the children thing is so funny for me because a) how many kids Checo has/will have/want is none of our business and b) I don't understand why him having many (which again IS NONE OF ANYBODY'S BUSSINESS) children is seen as something bad/worth of ridicule/degrading, like dear haters, what have the babies done to you personally that you are trying to use them as a point of hate on their dad????? Where's the logic?

I also love that all the rumour enjoyers and haters completely erase Carola from the narrative but let me tell you, Sergio ain't having the babies on his own. It's not like it's his decision and again again, it's not like the dynamics of their family and their private lives have anything to do with us, the fans, the haters, the neutrals, the journalists or literally ANYBODY who isn't a part of their family.

(It's also ironic that the people who so openly talk about Sergio and Carola's private life are the same who would be the first to yell at anyone who says anything even mildly negative about Max and P or at those who take pictures of Charles on his walks with Leo, but I don't want to be a hater so yeah, double standards all around)

No problem anon, add as many things as you want! Love to read it!

Checo's children are a soft spot to me, because he's such an amazing dad, I can't understand how people judge him just for having a loving family. I loathe the narrative of haters where they claim Checo is abusive to Carola and mean to his kids. Carola is one of the strongest women I've seen, because she handles the speculations about HER marriage with class. She is firm and she knows her husband.

When the whole 'cheating' debacle happened, people were so awful and mean, but I remember an interview with Carola where she said nobody knew what was happening in her marriage, and it was a private matter that nobody should feel entitled to intrude. If I remember the words, she said 'you should talk about Checo the driver, not the husband or the father, because that one is private and our own' (or something similar, it was a long time ago).

People feel so protective about P, or Rosberg's girls, Nico and Kevin daugthers (this looks like I said they are married and have daugthers, I meant each one has a daugther), doesn't Checo's kids deserve the same respect? They are children, blameless in this.

Checo is an adult, and although he doesn't deserve the hate, he can take it... but his kids? I fear Chequito reading about how people wish harm on him or his siblings, or people laughing because they are a loving family. No kid should be exposed to this, and the worst thing is that ADULTS are attacking kids and mocking families... Carola is a classy Lady, because honestly, I couldn't handle being in this circus.

Anyway, sorry about that anon, I rambled a lot, but I just get your point and it makes me mad when people messes with kids and families as if it was a bad thing.

Recently a Checo FB Fanpage uploaded a video, from Carola's IG and Checo's docuserie, and I love it so much, I want to share it with you (and all Checo fans).

When Carlota says 'don't go, Dad', such a heartbreaking moment, but it shows how much his kids love him (and how much he loves them), I can't believe people dare saying he's a bad father or criticize his family.

Just leave his family alone, please, if you must, stick to messing with the adult driver.

[generational-atrophy]

Can we get a scenario with America and Japan who has a partner who's a professional actress who's also really popular thanks to her villain roles and her most recent role as a gun weilding/obsessed mafia lady boss really blew up to the point where the internet is simping for her the same way they simped for lady Dimitrescu. Their feelings towards her villain role and reaction to the simping please!

hetalia america and japan with a dimitrescu-esque actor s/o

0.5k words ~ feminine headcanons

tw: none!

a/n: whoops did headcanons instead of a scenarios. also since u said actress i did fem ones! if u didnt want that. i can rewrite it LMAO

America

Every single woman who has dated Alfred F. Jones knows that although he loves to be the ”man in the relationship“ per se, he has a real thing for dominant women.

So every time you sat down to practice your lines, he stopped whatever he was doing. Just so he could watch with a lovesick, crooked smile.

(Plus, he really loves Mafia movies...)

You have every right to deny him, but he'd love to roleplay with you as that character. You can be the powerful mafia boss, while he's some eager-to-please subordinate. (Sometimes, those roleplays end up with a heated night, but surprisingly rarely!)

Also, he loves a woman who knows her way around a gun. He knows it's stupid, but he can't help it.

Alfred also really enjoys the attention you're getting.

On the one hand, it means you're finally being recognised for the talent he always knew was there! He loves seeing you so happy and successful…

On the other hand, it means you're a celebrity! Which means he's a celebrity! By association! A little!

It's a win-win scenario

Alfred really isn't a jealous person either. Seeing how other people talk about you doesn't make him uncomfortable or upset really, unless they cross a line obviously.

He really loves playing into how people see you online in public appearances. Always kneeling in front of you and stuff like that. (You know that Ken and Barbie pose from the new movie? That's how he's showing up to all your photoshoots.)

He has multiple photosets on his Instagram of you and him dressed up like characters from that piece of media specifically.

Basically, he’s a little obsessed…

Japan

Kiku is such a little fanboy about it, but he'd never say that out loud. He doesn't like it, but he does get something out of having a more domineering girlfriend. He's always had quite meek girlfriends, just like him, so it's a nice change of pace to have someone capable of that.

But as much as he gets all flustered when you pull out your character's intimidating voice, don't try roleplaying that in the bedroom. It makes him uncomfortable. Other than that? It's fine. Go ahead.

(He would also be up for giving you acting help. He's had to be a serious, dangerous individual many times in his life, and that was all pretend, so...)

He... doesn't like how people simp over you though.

Although he isn't typically a jealous man, seeing people talk about his girlfriend like that makes Kiku's skin crawl. Like, he's not possessive! But the fact that they're strangers just... freaks him out.

He also really doesn't appreciate the fame. Seeing people fawn over you in public makes him want to crawl into a little hole with you and never leave.

Every time you have a public appearance, he begs you to not mention him in any way.

Also, he totally defends your honours in comment sections all the time. If they ever get too... gross with it, he reports that person immediately and has to log off for the day. And hugs you. Because he can't stand seeing people treat his beloved like that.