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fellthemarvelous · 6 months

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The Small Back Room - Maggie's Record Shop (unhinged meta no one asked for, part 1)

I'm going to cover these in two separate posts because there are a lot. This post is going to be dedicated to the artists with multiple covers in Maggie's shop.

*This is all bonus content from The Arrival (2x1).

What is the purpose of the record shop? It's called The Small Back Room, and it's connected to Aziraphale's bookshop. And a small back room seems like a place someone would store their records.

"If I owned a record shop, I'd be more concerned about people breaking in and leaving more records behind." - Nina

And someone left more records behind. Records of "Every Day".

Aziraphale hears Gabriel sing a human song that Aziraphale is unfamiliar with, so he goes to the record shop to ask Maggie, who actually has way too many copies of "Every Day" because of a pub in Edinburgh, the place with the cemetery that has the statue of Gabriel.

There is more to it though. The pub called the Resurrectionist that plays "Every Day" over and over on the jukebox (and somewhere in America John Mulaney is cackling like a madman) now has direct ties with Aziraphale's personal life because they ended up in Maggie's record shop.

The place where they met Elspeth and Wee Morag, Mr. Dalrymple, messed with dead bodies, and where Crowley saved one woman's soul from Hell.

We heard one passage from Aziraphale's diary, and it was about the time he and Crowley went to Edinburgh that started off with them looking at the statue of Gabriel.

We know Aziraphale has more than 600 volumes of personal written history (as of 1827).

Where is he going to store records of his life on Earth? A record shop that no one other than him visits, attached to the building he owns.

The walls lined with record covers that are telling stories. Clues as to where the story is going to take us? Could they be Aziraphale's diaries or other important records Aziraphale has kept for thousands of years?

And is anyone else concerned about "Come on Over to Our Third Floor Apartment" or is that just me? Heaven is the third floor when you look at the button arrangements on the lift. ⬆️⬆️ ⬇️⬇️

Oslo Revival 1. Come on Over to Our Third Floor Apartment (We're Having a Party / Just for You / Four in a Bed / Have This Drink / It Doesn't Taste Weird / We'll Take Care of You / We Love You / You're One of Us Now / Together Forever) 2. Disguises (Carol and Her Hat / The Bicycle / Memories of a Windchime / Lunch / Who Am I Today? / Make Me Cry / Peggy Asked for Her Jumper Back) 3. It's Raining in My Kitchen (You Cast a Spell on My Wife / Running into Danger / Transcending the Patriarchy / Plumbing / A Dozen Eggs, (Too Many) / Someone New in the Bedroom) 4. Better Together

Kubasulu 1. Great White Lies (Fishy Business / Fluent in Shark-asm / Vanish into Fin-air / Gettin' Chummy / You're Gill-ty / No-fin Left to Lose / I Chews You) 2. Sweating in the City

Rat Keith 1. Look at This Mountain (The Mountain I Climbed / Assorted Wailing Chants of Peril / I Ate Some Berries (Shouldn't Have Done That) / What Happens on the Mountain, Stays on the Mountain / I See It in My Dreams / Soiled Leaves and Soft Bark / Don't Touch the Mushrooms / Huddle for Warmth / My Map Blew Away / This is My Home Now / Finally Rescued) 2. A Dog in God's Hot Car 3. Chem Trails

Raga Koboj 1. Raga Koboj 2. Earth, Swallow Me Whole (Why Can I Just Stay in Bed? / Sighing Loudly / No One's Going to Lunch / I'm Hungry But I Don't Want to Eat Alone / I Wonder What's on the Menu Today / Probably Something Mediocre / I'm Tired / It's Friday / I Wish It Would End) 3. Just Sounds 2.0 (Falling Coin / Stubbed Toe / Oops! / Rice in a Bowl / Spoon Clang / Gagging / Crinkled Paper / Bad Alphabet / Winded)

Deaf Dust 1. Change the Lightbulb (Cartwheels in Mexico / The cinnamon candle / Hold Me / Let Go / Who wait's for us? / Awesome / The basement's pretty dark / Broken Bulb / Stairway to your Mum's house) 2. Snapshots from the Moon

Randa Ransom 1. Doin' it in the Dust (Hard on the Rocks / Ridin' the Horizon / Tall Drink of Water / Wear My Hat / Call My Name / Let Me Use a Saddle / Just Us in the Dust) 2. I'm Lost and I Don't Speak the Language (Lost in Tokyo / WHat's that shop selling? / Sex Dolls (Self-Assembly) / Where's the Bathroom? / This Toilet is Singing / More Sex Dolls / There's a Cafe for Cats / I Want to Go Home / What's Home in Japanese? / Take Me Anywhere Taxi Man) 3. The Answer May Surprise You

Georgina O'Georgia 1. Gorgeous in Georgia ("Oh, George You're Gorgeous" / "It's Georgia with a G!" / "Get your hands off my hair" / "Yes, that's my real name") 2. Spur of the Moment

CT Bazz 1. Locking Up & Looking Down 2. Dank Balaclava

I've never seen anyone talk about these though, but they seem important. Have I missed conversation surrounding these? I'm just really curious as to what other people might think.

As I said above, there is a part two, but that part will cover artists with only one cover.

#good omens #good omens meta #maggie good omens #the small back room #aziraphale

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thebirdandthebee · 1 year

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Easy As

IDK WHY I CAN’T GET GD GIFS TO WORK HERE. will fix asap.

A/N: Okay ya’ll this is going to have a big time jump! We will be back tracking, but I’m so soft for Daddy Carm and I couldn’t resist a parenthood ask list. Curious if any of you were right about baby genders? I think this kind of scratches the itch below, but I’ve got a few more Daddy Carm requests to work through.

Should we do something special for 30 chapters? LMK!

Vanessa Monaghan is the great of fresh air Carmen had been gasping for.

Chapter 29: Mush

“And what do we do when we flush the toilet?” Vanessa asked, looming over Gabriel Silvio Berzatto.

“Wash hands,” he looked up at his mother with those same blue eyes as his father, completely disarming her. He hopped up onto his step-stool and hummed along as he washed his hands, itching to get back out to the kitchen where Carmen was cooking up some lunch for the Berzatto babies.

“Good job, Gabey baby,” she cheered, giving him a high-five. Potty training had been hell. Gabriel had no interest whatsoever in using the toilet and he was a real late bloomer in that way. He was walking, running, talking – hitting all the other milestones, but could not care less about potty training. But they’d been making headway and as long as he was fully potty trained in the next few months, everything would be okay. “Should we go see what Daddy has made the wrecking crew for lunch?” She asked.

Gabriel ran back to the kitchen, bare feet slapping agains the hardwood and climbing right up into his toddler tower to help Carmen.

“Okay, now that our sous is back, we can finish up with the accouterment,” Carmen said, looking down at the bundle that was cradled carefully to his chest. “What do we think, G? Peppers, mushrooms, onions?” He asked.

“No mush,” Gabriel countered, picking up his little Fisher Price set and chopping vegetables alongside his father.

“The sous has requested no mush, and while we don’t normally allow for substitutions, we will make an allowance just this once,” Carmen narrated, dropping a kiss to the fuzzy little head peeking out of the sling.

Vanessa could hear the giggles from the kitchen as she pulled on her boots, knowing she’d need to combat the slush on the sidewalks until she could get into the building for her wax appointment.

It would be the first time since baby Myles was born that Carmen would be alone with both the boys. But it’d been 12 weeks since Myles came home from the hospital and she was in desperate need of a brow wax, manicure and pedicure. Carmen would be just fine for a few hours.

She pulled her hair out of the collar of her sweater and tossed it over her shoulders, wiping her fingers under her eyes to catch any stray mascara before exiting the bedroom.

“Look at Mama, look how beautiful she is,” Carmen said, lifting his eyes from the cutting board to see his wife in the archway. “Tell Mama she’s beautiful,” he encouraged.

“Beautful Mama,” Gabriel repeated to the best of his ability, smacking his own vegetables around his blue, plastic cutting board.

“Thank you, my love,” Vanessa crossed the room to drop a kiss on Gabe’s head.

“No sugar for Daddy?” Carmen asked, scooping his peppers and onions across the board and dumping them into a prep container. Vanessa stepped into his personal space, her perfume swirling around him.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she grinned before kissing him gently. “How’s my little baby?” She asked,

“I’m doing okay,” Carmen replied, “slave driver of a chef,” he said, eyes flicking to Gabriel who’d been picking at his sandwich roll.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “How’s my littlest baby?” She gently pulled the fabric of the baby swing away from Carmen’s chest. Myles little cupid bow lips were pouted, long lashes resting against his cheeks as she slept soundly against Carmen’s chest.

“Still sleepin’,” Carmen supplied. “He’ll be up for a bottle in a bit,” he replied. “Go enjoy your Mama time,” He insisted. “The boys have it locked down here,” he added.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” She asked.

“I won’t, but I will,” he replied, kissing her once more. “Go ahead,” He said, slipping his hand down her backside and squeezing her ass in his palm.

“Just me and you and Myles, G man,” Carmen said, firing up the range. “Okay, now we toast the buns,” he said, holding up two thick rolls from the Vietnamese bakery down the street. Gabriel giggled upon hearing his Daddy say buns, making Carmen laugh.

“Buns,” he repeated.

Carmen narrated all of his steps, sautéing veggies and reheating some of the meat he’d pre-prepared the week before. With Myles being so young and Gabriel being a bit of a handful, he’d been taking a few hours each week to prep some proteins and veggies they could easily slap into a dinner and make life easier.

He was tickled whenever Gabe would cook with him. For Christmas, he’d gotten Gabe a little apron with his name on it and he demanded to wear it whenever they were in the kitchen together, observing his Daddy move around the kitchen from the toddler tower Nat and Pete had gifted them for Gabe’s first birthday.

Not too much later, Gabe and Carmen were sitting at the kitchen table, both enjoying their sandwiches as Carmen also carefully fed baby Myles his bottle, still snug in his sling.

“What do we think Sous?” Carmen asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Could have used a little more… depth, some umami.” He explained.

“I Gabe,” the little boy giggled, still not always understanding the concept of a sous chef. Carmen watched his son’s curls bounce with his laughter as he swung his legs back and forth in his chair. His blue eyes, his dirty blonde curls. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume Vanessa had nothing to do with Gabe’s procreation.

Myles was different, he was sure of it. Her dark eyes had appeared behind his delicate little eyelids and though he was still very bald, he held out hope that he’d have Vanessa’s dark hair.

“Did you know you’re my best friend, Gabe?” Carmen asked, taking another bite of his sandwich, watching his son. “You and baby Myles,” he added.

“Baby Myles,” Gabriel agreed, “best friend, Daddy,” he replied.

“That’s right, baby Myles is going to be your best friend, too,” he nodded, swallowing a dry patch at the back of his throat. “He’s so lucky to have you as a big brother.”

“Lucky Myles,” Gabriel parroted.

About two and a half hours later, Vanessa closed the front door softly behind her. Myles should be down for a nap and maybe Gabe had joined him as well. She didn’t hear any alarming noises as she slid off her boots and padded into the house. The kitchen and front living room were empty, but she heard the low volume of the TV in the family room humming and quietly slid in.

There, Carmen laid shirtless on the couch, Myles in just a diaper on his chest and Gabriel wedged between his Dad and the back of the couch, out cold and drooling on Carmen’s shoulder.

“Hi,” Vanessa greeted with a whisper.

“Hi Mama,” Carmen said quietly.

“Look at this cuddle puddle,” she grinned.

“I laid out here with Myles for some skin to skin and Gabe also wanted to take his shirt off,” Carmen grinned. “He got jealous and wanted a bottle, too.”

“Sweet boy,” Vanessa cooed, pushing Gabriel’s curls back from his face. Neither of his parents could bring themselves to get his haircut.

“How was the salon?” Carmen asked.

“Refreshing,” Vanessa said, pouting as her husband blocked her attempt to pick Myles up.

“My baby,” he said pointedly.

“Carm,” Vanessa gaped.

“Join us,” he insisted, “there’s room for you, Mama.” He added.

“There’s no way I can get in there without waking up the tornado,” she said knowingly.

“The tornado has requested Mama’s pasta for dinner,” Carmen said, tucking his free hand behind his head.

“Of course,” Vanessa grinned. “Babies are having an early bedtime tonight,” she said, trailing a freshly manicured nail down Carmen’s bare chest, tweaking his nipple. Carmen adjusted on the couch, a pleased smile on his face.

They had decided they didn’t want to wait long between Myles and their next baby, but this would definitely be the last. Vanessa and Carmen would never say out loud they were trying for a girl, but they were trying for a girl.

With Vanessa transitioning, at least for a few years, to staying home full time, they didn’t want to put too much time between babies.

“Mommy and Daddy time?” Carmen asked.

“As long as this one allows it,” she said, placing a gently hand on Myles’ back.

As if on cue, the newest member of the Berzatto family let out a crackly whine.

“Myles,” Gabriel grumbled, twisting against Carmen’s torso and burying his face further into his father’s chest. Vanessa giggled, picking up Myles so Carmen could tend to Gabriel as she walked back to the nursery.

“Are you Mama’s baby?” She asked, nuzzling into Myles warmth, cradling him to her chest against her soft sweater.

“I’m your baby!” Carmen called out.

“Not a baby Daddy,” she could hear Gabriel counter knowingly.

#carmen smut #carmen x oc #Carmy #carmy fluff #carm #Carmen Berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x ofc #carmen berzatto x oc #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fan fic #the bear fic #jeremy allen white can fucking GET IT #i'm hot for daddy carm

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no-see-um-incorrect · 6 months

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This is to help y’all recover from this summit

My versions of redacted GEN 2

If you guys like the small character profiles I’ve made I will continue also, this is my opinion based off my headcannons for the listeners

Sorry if the formatting is a bit everywhere

Shaw pack edition (I don’t own this art(i used a picrew) I haven’t had time to make any)

Gabriel Shaw

“my father made this pack what it is today and I will do my very best to honor that legacy”-Gabriel Shaw

He/him/his

Age: 16

Parents: David/Angel Shaw

Best friend: sparrow

Favorite activity: when his dad takes him on a low level security job

Favorite food: uncle Milo’s Swiss mushroom jackfruit burger (don’t tell his dad)

Favorite color: “vampire gold~… I mean Ju-just gold I guess..I don’t know….why are you asking me?!”

He’s quiet, and at most times very formal, Takes alpha training VARY seriously (David and Angel are trying to help him ease up)

Loves writing poetry and stories in his free time, Does not have his drivers license (and is the only person in his age who isn’t allowed to get it till he’s 19)

Has his eyes on a particular vampire princess

————————————————————————

another Shaw child

She/her/hers

Ashlyn Shaw

“What do you think?……Caelum says cookies first”-Ashlyn Shaw

Age: 9

Favorite color: Green

Favorite activity: teasing her brother

Favorite food: daddy’s bacon mac & cheese

She is an actual menace (takes after her parent) when she was little little and just starting her menace tendencies, David would call her “Littler snot”

Was the youngest of her pack to fully shift.

She can see caelum

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she/her/they/them

Maria Greer jr (MJ for short)

“yeah, that’s GREER put some respect on the name”-MJ Greer

Age: 16

Has stealth abilities (but much like her dad sucks at shifting)

Best friend: Astrid Collins

Parents: Milo/Sweetheart Greer

Favorite food: “Law & order with a side of spite!…you can’t say that hun…Fiiine….BBQ rice bowl…”

Favorite activity: learning about history

She wants to be a Reporter.

ABSOLUTE DADDYS GIRL

Loves hearing her dad tell the story of the inversion but the way Milo tells it frames it so that she doesn’t actually know it’s him and she has made it her life‘s mission to figure out what happened that night and the identity of the “mystery hero” her dad would tell her about

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Sparrow Talbot

“I may or may not have ran face first into a tree….you didn’t see that”-Sparrow Talbot

Age: 17

Parents: Asher/Baabe Talbot

They/them/theirs

Best friend: Gabriel

Favorite activity: wolf Zoomiez

Favorite food: “last meal” no one knows what that means

When they first adopted them they were very quiet, very calm, very chill. And then Asher shifted in front of them for the first time. And they have been a rambunctious dumbASS since then (and we love them for it)

They always have snacks and drinks on them, seemingly out of nowhere because they don’t carry a bag.

Unlike their father, they actually can cook and they’re pretty freaking great at it.

(all of the scars are from eating shit in wolf form, and not wanting to hear Marie’s lectures)

————————————————————————

Astrid Collins

They/she/him

“and so what if I replace Alexis‘s shampoo with Nair…OH COME ON IT WAS FUNNY!”-Astrid Collins

Age: technically 16

Favorite activity: snooping around places they’re not supposed to be (urban exploration)

Empowered: ???? Vampire+???

Best friend: MJ

Favorite food: “anything papa cooks is good I don’t really need to eat though”

Loves to play pranks mostly targeted at Alexis…….OK always targeted at Alexis.

Sam found her one day when she was little and turned her then when he brought her home and got her through the newborn stage…. she started displaying elemental abilities??? But also vampire abilities??? But she also grows up and ages like a human???? so yeah bit of a mystery

They are pretty standoffish they don’t talk a lot and they’re pretty rough around the edges (Darlin who?)

Very attached to Sam (as you can expect) but also extremely attached to Darlin

he built his prosthetic himself out of an old VCR, a broken toaster, a ripped up T-shirt and scrap metal

————————————————————————

And that was my next gen Shaw pack kids

Hope you enjoyed and give me suggestions on like little details for them and other characters (I really wanna do the damn crew but I need suggestions) i’m gonna say it again. These are based off of my headcannons for the listeners feel free to disagree with my opinion just don’t be mean about it (we’re just having fun here)

If you can’t tell, I was a Monster High/ever after high kid And I love writing shit like this

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 1 year

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28 DAYS: CHAPTER TWO

*Spoiler alert: he's not.

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days, or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter characters: Dean Winchester, Nick (Iblis), Zeke Gadreel, Missouri Moseley, Jack Kline, Pamela Barnes, Gabriel, Crowley, Meg Masters, Rowena Macleod

Chapter tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, references to sexual activity (everyone is 18), references to underage drug addiction and prostitution, Dean’s heading into withdrawal, he’s injured and unmedicated

Chapter WC: 3,200

Author’s notes: Sunrise Bay is the fictional soap opera in which Schitt’s Creek’s Moira Rose starred. I couldn’t resist giving it to Rowena.

I don't have ample words to thank @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker for their continued support and readings, but I will thank them and declare my undying love.

Text divider by @talesmaniac89

CHAPTER TWO

Dean’s chest is tight with panic.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

John is furious, driving erratically, and hurling threats and accusations.

“Of course, it’s your fault, Dean — you’re a man. Men don’t get to play innocent.”

If John had learned about Dean’s mushroom-enhanced threesome with Jamie and Carmen any other way than from Jamie’s pissed-off mom, he’d be slapping him on the back and handing him a beer for earning another couple of notches on his belt.

But nobody likes to be told they’re a shitty parent, especially not John Winchester.

“They were trippin’ and half-naked when I got there, I didn’t-”

“Gimme a break, kid. You went there to get high and get your dick wet. I was 18 once, too, ya know.”

Dean’s mind races as John speeds through town. “What about Sammy?”

“What about him?! You gonna go home and tell him you got caught fuckin’ his English teacher’s daughter?! Ya think that’ll make him proud, somethin’ to live up to?!”

John is roaring loud as he pulls into a parking spot in front of the USMC recruitment center. He kills the engine and turns to Dean, but Dean can’t look his dad in the eye.

John scoffs. “Don’t worry about Sammy, I think I can handle it.”

Dean knows John can’t handle it. John doesn’t even know what time Sam’s school starts or how much money he needs for lunch. John barely even knows what day it is half the time.

Dean’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “They’ll send me to Afghanistan, Dad.”

He’s afraid — for his own life and to leave his little brother behind. He doesn’t want to go to war, and he doesn’t want Sam to have to navigate his teenage years, dodging bullets from John.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s crying until his tears drop to his hands in his lap.

“Oh, man-the-fuck-up, Dean,” John growls, wrenching the door of the Impala open. “Let’s go!”

Twenty-four hours after waking up in the hospital with multiple injuries and the acrid contempt of his little brother, Dean is informed he’s being transferred to a rehab facility.

He isn’t allowed any real pain medication, and he’s riding a class VI hangover, even with fluids being pumped into his body. His head, shoulder, ribcage, and hips are throbbing. He’s starving, too, but he knows there’s no way in Hell he’d be able to keep any food down.

In the early afternoon, he’s escorted to Discharge by hospital security. He wishes he’d showered because his skin is itchy, and he knows he looks like hammered shit. When the guards walk him outside, he sees Nick and Zeke, waiting for him in Zeke’s 4Runner.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters under his breath.

Sam undoubtedly hand-picked the Green Berets to transport Dean’s sorry ass to Kansas City. Not only do Nick and Zeke not give a single shit about other people’s drama, but they’re also brick fucking walls of defense.

The security guards disappear back inside the building, leaving Dean no other choice than to limp toward his former teammates. As he nears the vehicle, Nick climbs out of the passenger seat and opens the back door.

Dean floats an attempt at good humor, which promptly falls flat on its face.

“You two suck at Roshambo, or what?”

Nick’s silent, answering smirk is devoid of any trace of mirth.

Dean purses his lips and bobs his head before ducking to gingerly slide across the backseat next to his familiar duffle. He immediately pictures his Dopp kit inside the bag with his trusty bottle of pills.

With the combination of his injuries, this epic fucking hangover, and his escorts’ chilly reception, he could really use a Vicodin or two right now, but Sam’s no idiot. He chose Nick and Zeke for more than their lack of investment in bullshit or their multiple factors of intimidation; Dean can only assume that everything in that bag has been thoroughly searched and stripped.

“D’you pack my SpongeBob toothbrush? It’s my fave.” Dean asks from the back as Zeke wordlessly pulls away from the curb.

“Packed what was on the list and nothing that wasn’t, Chief,” Nick replies, confirming Dean’s suspicion.

Dean nods, slipping his phone from his pocket to thumb out texts to Gordon and Lydia, letting them know where he’s going. He tells them both that he’ll be in touch soon, each for different reasons. Then finally, he pulls up a video game and slumps into the seat for the longest 50 minutes he’s ever endured.

The facility looks like a high school in a John Hughes movie, but with a bunch of weird-ass people standing around outside, hugging and singing and chanting.

Dean rolls his eyes and hoists his bag onto his good shoulder with a wince. Every second of consciousness reminds him of broken bones, twisted ligaments, and fragments of self-loathing that thrive under his itching skin. The last thing he needs right now is a round of kumba-fucking-ya.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Nick hanging out the window with a savage grin. “Go on.” He waves Dean off like he’s shooing a fly. “Have fun, and make lots of friends.”

Dean scowls before turning back to face the entrance and trudging inside, careful not to move too fast. His hip is killing him even more than his slinged shoulder or his ribs, probably because he’s injured it twice before. Fidgeting in the backseat of Zeke’s ancient SUV for almost an hour didn’t exactly help.

Once the facility’s revolving door spits him inside the bright lobby, a warm, welcoming voice calls to him from the centered reception desk.

“Dean Winchester?”

The voice belongs to a pretty, middle-aged black woman in a nurse’s uniform, rounding the desk to greet him. He continues forward, eyeing her sideways.

“Yes, ma’am?” He doesn’t know what he expected from rehab admittance, but kindness was not it.

“Sam called. Wanted to make sure you got in OK. Nice boy.” She looks him up and down, and her brow furrows. “Let’s get you checked in so you can get settled and rest up.”

The warmth of her tone and gaze hug him like a thick, soft blanket.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean responds.

Her ID badge reads ‘Missouri’. Dean doesn’t know if that’s her name, or where she’s from, but it doesn’t matter much to him because she’s already soothed his senses more than anyone he’s spoken to in the last 36 hours.

“Come on, right in here,” she says, showing him to an open office space.

Inside the room is a male orderly who helps Dean unload his bag before pulling it open and searching its contents.

“Not gonna find much more than Visine in there, buddy. Crocket and Tubbs already got to the good stuff.”

The orderly remains focused on his work, and Missouri focuses on Dean.

“You mind your manners, boy, and let him do his job,” she says.

Dean drops his eyes to the floor. “Yes, ma’am.”

As the orderly continues his examination of Dean’s belongings, Missouri rattles off some basic rules.

“There’s no fraternizin’ with other patients, no phone calls ‘cept once a week for 10 minutes at a time...”

Dean nods along as she speaks. He flicks his gaze up to watch the orderly drop his iPhone, its charger, and his AirPods into a plastic bin, and Dean shakes his head but remains silent. When the orderly finds the Swiss Army knife Emma bought him last year for Father’s Day, his heart clenches in his chest.

“You’ll get that back when you check out, Dean,” Missouri assures him, warmth seeping into her tone and eyes. “Now, just a quick pat down, and I’ll show ya to your room.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean nods. He’s relieved to realize that he likes Missouri. She’s a bright spot in this quagmire of misery he’s brought upon himself, and that’s a gift.

The orderly pats him down and checks his sling for anything else the place doesn't allow, and once he’s been stripped of all things sharp or shiny, Missouri leads him through the building, pointing out public sitting areas and restrooms. He’s fucking exhausted and beginning to suspect his hangover is actually withdrawal, which he’s been dreading since he woke up this morning.

Before long, Missouri pauses a few feet from a recreation room with several round table and chair sets, some mismatched lounge furniture, and finally, a single flat-screen TV on a low table.

“Folks, this’s Dean Winchester,” Missouri says.

Dean takes note of three people piled onto a small couch, another guy next to them in a side chair, and two petite women settled on pillows facing the screen. Some Marvel movie is paused on the screen, by the balding man in the chair.

“Pills,” he says with an accent, narrowing his gaze as the corner of his mouth twists upward.

Dean’s eyebrows and lips quirk.

“Hmm... sex and booze,” declares the tiny, familiar-looking redhead on the floor. She also has an accent, and Dean wonders where all these Brits are hiding in the middle of America.

“Sex and anything he can get his hands on,” says the bright-eyed brunette from the center of the couch. Her gaze sparkles and dances in a way that makes Dean instantly begin to calculate how to get around the no-fraternizing rule.

“You guys’re good,” he says.

The brunette rakes her appreciative gaze over Dean and licks her lips, as a goofy-looking blonde guy reaches across her to grab a large bowl full of popcorn from the lap of some floppy-haired kid.

“Well, kiddo, since your roommate’s here, I’ll take this off your hands. And, uhh, my money’s on coke,” says the blonde guy as he burrows back into his corner of the couch.

The kid brushes his hands along his thighs before standing and turning to face Dean and Missouri. As he approaches them, he holds up a single hand like he’s swearing to God.

“I’m Jack.”

Dean darts his eyes to Missouri, who’s smiling reassuringly at the boy.

Dean wants to ask, what kind of crack therapy team thought it’d be a good idea to pair a literal fucking child up with the likes of himself?

Instead, he waves back at the kid with a weak smile.

It’s awkward, and Dean is far too undermedicated and stressed to have to deal with a kid. The anxiety makes his heart race and his stomach roil.

“I can introduce him and show him to our room,” Jack offers with a blush.

Everything about this kid and this room and... everything is making Dean’s skin crawl.

“That’d be real helpful, Jack,” Missouri replies, then turns back to Dean. “This’s your roommate — Jack Kline.”

Dean glares at her before drawing a shallow breath. “Yes, ma’am. I gathered that.”

“I’ll head back to the desk, now,” Missouri says with a pointed look before walking away.

Jack motions toward the group and begins introducing everyone.

“That’s Pamela,” he says, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Mother of two and meth addict. Next to her is Gabe. He’s a compulsive liar and gambler.”

Gabe salutes as he cheerfully munches popcorn with his mouth full. Dean shakes his head, amazed that Pamela and Gabe seem perfectly comfortable with this little shit airing their dirty laundry all over the rec room.

“Crowley’s on the end, in the chair,” Jack continues. “He’s an alcoholic, and usually very cranky — probably because he killed one of his patients—”

“That was two years ago, you twat,” Crowley drones with an eye roll back to the screen in front of him as he presses play.

“It’s part of your story,” Jack adds matter-of-factly before gesturing to the two women sitting on the floor with their backs against the couch.

“Meg...” Jack says, and Meg waves. “...was a prostitute and heroin addict — like me.”

Dean’s heart jumps into his throat, and he thinks he might throw up right there. Jack can’t be a year older than Emma. He’s a fucking minor, for christ’s sake.

Meg throws Jack a wink before chiming in. “I second Pamela’s bet — sex… and anything else he can find.”

Meg holds Dean’s gaze for several beats, and Dean feels like the air’s been sucked out of the room. The buzzing in his ears almost drowns out Jack’s last introduction until he hears something familiar.

“...a retired soap opera star and opioid addict—”

“Rowena Macleod,” Dean says with a small huffed laugh. “My, uhh...” He snaps a few times, shaking his head, trying to jog free fond memories from decades before. “My babysitter watched Sunrise Bay. You were amazing.”

“Ohh,” Rowena coos and Pamela chuckles as she nudges Rowena’s delicate shoulder with her toe.

“Seriously, so much of my childhood is wrapped up in those episodes.”

He remembers Spaghettios and hot dogs, animal crackers, and cherry Kool-aid. His babysitter used to paint his toenails, even though he’d make her take it off before John got home.

“Why thank you, darling,” Rowena preens. “‘Twas so long ago, I barely remember a thing anymore—”

“Might be the morphine,” Gabe mutters, and Pamela smacks the back of his head.

Rowena ignores them both in favor of reminding Jack to bring his “new friend” to dinner.

“Don’t forget, Jacky — four-thirty sharp.” She bats her eyelashes and fusses with her jewelry.

Dean gives her a warm smile even though he feels hollowed-out, heavy and hot. His skin’s tight and prickly, yet he feels like he’s falling apart. He knows what’s happening, and he fucking hates that he can’t do a damn thing about it but get through it.

“Do you want to go get settled and cleaned up first?” Jack asks, startling Dean to attention.

Jack’s eyes are so wide and so blue, Dean thinks he might fall in and drown. He wants to fall in and drown. Anything but this.

Instead, he nods in answer and follows Jack to the staircase.

It isn’t long before they arrive at their room.

“Curfew is at 8 PM, but I usually read until Lights-Out at 10.” Jack stops in front of their open door, and Dean peeks inside.

The bare bed closest to the door holds a stack of folded bedding and a single pillow. The nightstand is donned with a non-descript lamp and a pad and paper.

“That’s me.” Jack motions to the far bed, which is neatly made with what appears to be a furry dragon dead center of his pillow. On that nightstand is a short stack of comic books and a bag of Milky Way candy bars.

Dean is sure he’s being Punk’d at this point.

“Nice dragon. What’re you, four years old?” Dean asks, pushing inside the room and dropping his duffle to the floor beside what is now his bed.

Jack stands in the hall with his furrowed brow. “I’m 17. And that’s a gryphon; dragons don’t have fur, Dean.”

Dean huffs an ironic, pained laugh and shakes his head before dropping his chin to his chest and letting his heavy eyelids close.

“My bad,” he mutters, rubbing his burning eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his good hand.

Maybe if he goes to sleep, he’ll wake up, and this’ll all be over with. Maybe he can find someone somewhere in this place with something, anything, to put him to sleep so he can wake up without feeling like a bag full of broken glass.

“It’s OK,” Jack replies with a shrug as he wanders inside the room toward the toy in question. “Not a lot of people know what a gryphon is. They’re guardians of the divine. My mom bought it for me before I was born because she wanted me to always be safe. She died in childbirth, and I never knew my dad-”

“Kid,” Dean interrupts Jack’s monologue of fantastical tragedy. “Can we save the overshare for when I’ve had at least a few hours’ sleep and some food?”

Jack absently pets his stuffed guardian, curiously eyeing Dean. “Openness agitates you. I noticed downstairs that hearing everyone’s stories made you... uncomfortable.”

Dean scoffs. “Well... yeah. I don’t need to know everyone’s dirty little secrets — especially not on the first day.”

Jack shrugs, and Dean watches him carefully replace the plush toy atop his pillow.

“You’ll get used to it. Honesty is the first step.” Jack looks up as he rounds the foot of Dean’s bed on his way back to the door with a wide, satisfied grin.

Judging by his posture and careful pronunciation of the word, Dean has a feeling that learning the importance of honesty was a big lesson for Jack. Dean isn’t ready for any lessons right now.

“I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready. Just follow the signs. The dining hall isn’t far.”

Jack disappears out the door and around the corner, and Dean sighs with relief to finally be alone.

As he unpacks his clothes and puts them in the dresser, he tries to ignore his runny nose and full-body chills. He distracts himself by wondering how long the kid’s been in this place, which leads to speculating what landed him here, and then he’s chewing the inside of his mouth bloody thinking about the fucking pieces of shit who sell dope to kids, and — worse — the kind of sickos who pay to touch them.

He slams his dresser drawer hard enough to rattle the mirror on the wall beside it, closes his eyes again, then inhales in through his nose and exhales out his mouth.

Tessa, one of the nurse practitioners in the Medical division of the department, taught him breathing exercises. He went to see her under the pretense of managing work-related stress, but really he just wanted an in to meet the hot newbie. Turns out, Tessa isn’t just good-looking; she’s also great at her job because the stupid exercises work.

He and Tessa also talked about spirituality from time to time. She’s been trying to convince him for weeks that asking the universe for help doesn’t make him weak. He’s not so sure he agrees with her, but at this point, he’ll try anything to help him get through the next few weeks without losing his god damned mind.

“I feel... fucking ridiculous doing this,” he starts, quiet as a whisper. “But I’m fresh outta ideas.”

He breathes in deeply and out again, dismissing the sharp pain in his chest that every breath brings him, yet tears begin to flood his closed eyes.

“C’mon, Dean, you got through two tours in Afghanistan, for fuck’s sake!” he berates himself.

Maybe the universe is punishing him for going overboard. Maybe if he promises to reel it in, he can do this without his usual vices to lean on and places to hide.

“Listen, I swear to dial it back when I get out. No more all-night parties, no more mixing- just, please. Gimme somethin’.”

He sniffs and wipes his eyes, still shivering, cramping, and swallowing back bile, but at least he has a plan.

“OK, you can do this,” he tells himself, grabbing his Dopp kit and heading to the bathroom for a hot shower.

As the steam from the shower fills the stall and he stands under the hot spray of water, he continues to tell himself that he can get through the next 28 days without imploding.

Chapter 3

Please let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

MJ's Masterlist

#au dean winchester #dean winchester is saved

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ailelie · 3 months

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Food in Nora's Return (in mostly reverse order of appearance)

On Nora’s, she found a mound of lavender-scented rice, shredded lamb, fire-burnt leeks, and coins of pumpkin with two sauces on the side: mint and lavender-sage. Gabriel’s plate did not resemble hers at all, save for the fragrant rice. His meat was flakes of white fish mixed with lemons and zested with orange.

“What are we going to do when we see them?” Gabriel asked. He tore the spongy teff bread into tiny pieces, dropping them into the thick stew of tomatoes, peppers, and shredded duck. Nora spooned some of the stew onto her bread. “Act as we always do.

For the first time Nora could remember, when she walked downstairs for breakfast, Ambrose was waiting for her. He held one large tray carrying two small bowls of a rice porridge with many small bowls holding different fruits and spices and two cups of rice milk.

“Sorry for stopping by so late,” Nora said. She held a tray carrying a small pistachio sesame cream cake and a pot of that smoky Crellish tea Ambrose had liked before.

When Nora woke again, she found a bowl of a creamy rice porridge sitting on a tray on her desk. The porridge was still hot.

The bowl placed before Nora was tall and wide, half-filled with steaming soup. The waiter set a mountain of fragrant white rice next to her bowl. The oil in the soup glistened in the sunlight. Soft pink flakes formed a circle in the center of her soup. Surrounding it were a bundle of moon-white mushrooms, a twist of dark green leaves, several translucent slices of a root, and a golden, gelled yolk nestled in two halves of a small, cream egg white. Nora slid her spoon just below the surface, scooping up both soup and a few dots of oil. She sipped it from her spoon. Heat from the spices and peppers warmed her mouth. The fish flavor was subtle and almost sweet. Nora scooped in a spoonful of rice and took a larger bite.

Nora sat on the other side of the tray. He had brought hummus, puffed rice crackers, grilled bananas, and a variety of berries. “This looks delicious.” Ambrose spread some hummus on a cracker and held it out for Nora to take. “I had them add extra lemon to the hummus for your preferred abomination.”

Nora sent him to find them a place to sit while she purchased for them: two bowls of small bowl of cool, sticky rice mixed with black beans, coconut, and mango.

Ambrose met them near the door of the dining room with a large platter of steamed buns. “My treat, today,” he said. Nora had not arranged anything special for lunch, content with whatever the Academy had ordered in, and so had no issue shifting to steamed buns instead. Gabriel likewise shrugged.

“Why luna buns?” Ivy gave her a confused look, but then turned back to her pot. She pulled another spoon from the spoon cup and used it to fish out the one she’d dropped. “They’re the first thing I learned to make. I was too sick to attend the festival on Astelanon so my papa learned how to make luna buns so I wouldn’t miss out.” Her voice, sweet as ever, rang with a note of sadness. “We didn’t have a grill, so he fried the rice instead of grilling it. That’s still my favorite way to make them.” She washed off the spoon that had fallen into her pot and dropped it back into the correct cup.

“No letters yet?” Nora asked, remembering Ivy’s tears from nearly two months ago.

Ivy shook her head. “Do you prefer your ginger syrup hot or sweet?”

“Hot.”

Ivy shot her a quick smile over her shoulder. “Me too. Papa prefers sweet though. He always says his life has had enough spice and that he deserves some sweetness now.” Ivy removed the pot from the heat and gave it one more stir. She then piled her bowl of cooked rice and a bowl of water onto the empty tray and moved them to the table beside Nora. Ivy wet her hands and scooped up some rice to roll into a ball. “He likes fillings in his buns, too. I prefer plain, though.” She glanced up at Nora. “More ginger flavor that way.”

Nora nodded, somewhat disbelieving she and Ivy had this one thing in common. “I prefer plain, too.” Gabriel liked his stuffed with a lemon curd. Ambrose preferred chopped nuts and cardamom.

“Get us a table,” she ordered the others. “I’ll get us some tirazi.”

Gabriel and Ambrose looked puzzled, but Ivy’s eyes widened. “What flavors do they have?” she asked.

“Sweet cream and a sour cherry jam,” Nora said. “You’ve had them?”

“One of my babysitters growing up was from Tegata. She’d make them for special days. Ask if they have lemon cream?”

“I will,” Nora promised. Then, unsure why, she did. The shopkeep did have lemon cream. She also had passion fruit curd.

(Note: Tirazi are fried sweet dough with fillings.)

Nora did not know how to respond to that. She took a bite of her rice. It was unctuous with rich duck meat, soft egg yolks, and a thread of sweet mustard for balance. She savored the bite to give herself a moment to think.

The family table was not covered with a variety of dishes. Instead, Nora only counted five serving plates or bowls, each filled with one of the king’s favorite foods. Outside, Nora knew the others dined a starry sky’s worth of small dishes, each exquisitely flavored. Family did not need such a show of wealth.

[...]

Ambrose returned carrying a bottle of esal, a fruit wine made from plums and pineapples.

The next day, Nora sent out for a picnic lunch with a variety of pickled fruits and vegetables with soft patties of pounded rice and a variety of sauces.

But then Gabriel asked, “What did Fletcher want?” His focus was on his meal, a thick stew of vegetables and spices and a side of spongy flatbread. Ambrose, however, was focused fully on her.

[...]

“I won’t ask for details then,” Ivy said, scooping up some of her stew with her bread. Not a single drop fell onto her dress. Nora glanced down at her own bowl and the spoon she was using to eat. Before she would have pointed out how uncouth Ivy was for using her bread like a spoon and part of her ached to say the same now, but she knew they weren’t true. Plenty of people didn’t need utensils to eat like Nora did. They were graceful enough to manage without.

“Nowhere,” Nora said quickly. She stuffed a bite of sticky rice and fruit into her mouth. The mint chopped through the dish was cooling.

The girl was back and carrying a large plate and forks. “Apologies, your highness. I didn’t mean to hear or interrupt, but my brother really will slaughter me if I don’t give you some pie. You’ll like it. His pies are the best. He makes his own flour blend.” She slipped the pie onto the table and handed each of them a fork.

[...]

Nora took a small bite. The pie had a floral lemon filling that melted over her tongue. The crust was flaky instead of the dense crusts she was accustomed to. She savored the bite, her eyes fluttering closed. When she opened them again, Ambrose was looking away, blushing again, and Gabriel was shaking his head.

Ambrose carried the small tray of sweets over to the table Ivy had chosen inside. He had bought Nora two cinnamon cookies as promised and a golden brown bar for himself. The bar was a smoky caramel brownie the bakery had designed just for Ambrose during one of their many visits prior to joining the Academy. Many sweet shops across the city had added some menu items over the years to appeal to his need for smoky, even burnt flavors.

Ivy had also chosen a cookie, though hers was topped with a soft pink icing. She ate oddly, Nora noticed. After taking one small bite, Ivy scraped off a bit of icing and savored it slowly. Then, she scraped off another piece. Her gaze was studious, but not focused on anything in particular. Then she ate some of the plain cookie without frosting. Again, she chewed very slowly. Finally, she took another normal bite.

Nora glanced at Ambrose to see if he was noticing her behavior as well. He was. “Is everything all right?” Ambrose asked.

Ivy’s cheeks darkened. “Sorry. I had expected a vanilla frosting that would soften the sharpness of the lemon in the cookie, but it isn’t just vanilla. The frosting has a very slight fruit element as well, though not as fresh as the lemon. A tea perhaps? The cookie is also incredibly soft, almost as if—excuse me.” She stood and strode over to the counter. She spoke to the clerk for a moment and then the clerk fled to the kitchen. A moment later, a tall man with arms like barrels exited the kitchen.

Ivy greeted him with a smile. “My apologies for disturbing you,” she said. “I was enjoying your lemon cookie and I had a few questions.” She confirmed the use of tea in the frosting and then turned the discussion to the flours used in the cookie. The baker denied using any rice flours in the cookies which prompted Ivy to ask, “Are you friends with a winemaker then, perhaps?”

“Clever,” Nora said. “My suggestion is The Broken Wheel. They’re another bakery and make rather delicious spiced meat steamed buns.”

“Teo finally convinced his father to add some food to the menu. He said if we give him a day’s warning, he’ll include those big, sticky cinnamon buns on the day’s menu and save us a few.”

“How long have you known about this?” Nora asked, imagining the soft, warm, spicy buns. Teo was two years older than they were and worked in his father’s bar at the harbor. Thanks to his good relationships with merchants, he had access to ingredients others couldn’t afford—like the cinnamon for Nora’s buns.

Nora took a bite of her millet cake. Warmth filled her mouth, which matched well with the spicy ginger tisane.

Nora noticed he barely touched his food—a cool mint and carrot soup and steamed meat buns. It was simple fare, but appropriate for the holiday.

Petra filled a small tray with a variety of steamed buns, indicating which were leftover from lunch and which were filled with fruit jelly. She also boiled some water and fixed up a pot of tea. “Tell the prince this is from my private stash,” Petra advised her. “If he wants more, his father needs to finalize his trade deal with Creldyn.”

On the bench, Viola divided the half-dozen tirazi between them. Nora chose one with a dot of speckled cream poking out of one end. It was still warm and the fragrant vanilla cream filled her mouth with delight. She hummed in pleasure.

[...]

She selected another tirazi, this one smeared with a bit of red jam. The nutty dough complemented the sour cherries well.

Ambrose sprinkled more smoky pepper over his fish as he thought. “I’m sure they’d find need of me if I showed up, but no one’s sent word I need to be home.”

“Good. What do you think, Gabriel?”

Gabriel swallowed a bite of lemon rice. “I’d planned on visiting the harbor, but something new sounds fun.”

“Pickles. Fried pickles on a stick.”

“Yes, Petra,” Nora said in a tone she knew would make Petra roll her eyes. Nora followed the corridor into the kitchens and passed along Petra’s instructions. Within moments one of the bakers had her nestled next to a big belly oven with a roll of spongy flatbread spread with honey in one hand and a mug of sweetened tisane in the other. The aroma of rich spices and fish filled the kitchen. The various kitchen servants chattered and shared gossip. Nora withstood the warmth of the oven side seat for two bites of her bread before slowly sneaking away from the kitchen to an outer, cooler room.

Around dinner time, the kitchen staff brought her a small tray of rice and the same rich fish curry she’d smelled earlier.

#nora's return #food #food in writing #does this feel like a coherent cuisine?

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daiyu-amaya · 4 months

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I want to see the ideas for your favourites!! :D

I have so many fandoms but here are a few ideas that have been roaming in my head, some of it is headcanon stuff but a few bits are story ideas. It's a bit long so it is all below the line lol

HEADCANON

Hellsing Ultimate: Alucard loves being in crowds of people and loves the glitter and glam of parties. He likes looking good and seducing others even if he doesn't actually do anything with them.

Yu Yu Hakusho: 1) Hiei will never admit not even on his deathbed that he likes Kuwabara's cats or in fact Kuwabara himself. Unless I'm writing Hiei/Kuwabara and then it's just the cats 🤣

2) Kurama and Yusuke have unresolved sexual tension, but won't ever say anything as long as Keiko is alive or dating Yusuke. 3) It takes Kuwabara way too long to figure out that Shizuru and Botan have a relationship, and Hiei asks him how he could be so blind? 4) If Yusuke and Keiko split she starts to date Yukina I will go down with this ship and the live-action 100% teased me about it.

Danny Phantom: 1) Danny and Tucker secretly like Justin Bieber, They won't tell Sam because Sam thinks Bieber is dumb (As a metal head I agree with Sam 🤣) Though she does like some of their other musical tastes whatever those might be. 2) Vlad likes "Tennessee Whiskey" by Chris Stapleton, and various jazz bands. 3) Jack is a rock n' roll kind of guy and Maddie is a big fan of hyperpop for some reason lol

STORY IDEA (Bits and Bobs)

Hellsing: Alucard attempts to Woo Enrico Maxwell as they have a strange sexual tension and Maxwell isn't nearly as straight as Alucard thought the man was. (The Blood Auctions subplot)

Yu Yu Hakusho: Hiei gets turned into a girl because of magic wagic and Kuwabara already attracted to Male Hiei is absolutely besotted. Which Hiei is annoyed by this because he doesn't want to be treated any different while they figure out how to change him back.

Little does he know that Kuwabara isn't just attracted to his girl form and when Kuwabara blurts it out Hiei is shocked. Kurama likens it to a boy pulling on a girl's pigtails. Which Keiko makes fun of Yusuke for because he did the same thing with her for a long time.

Danny Phantom: Danny gets pulled into an alternate timeline (DC) and finds out that while he doesn't exist In this world His family and Vlad do. Vlad is human in this world and isn't nearly obsessed with Maddie to the point he leads a normal life rather than being a stalker. He's been married at least three times and has two kids (basically Dani and Dan), and Maddie and Jack had Jazz but no Danny.

Super Mario Bros: Luigi has a bit of a problem, two enemies are flirting to high hell with him and Mario is completely making fun of him for it. A truce between the Dark Lands and the Mushroom Kingdom had already been worked out so Bowser was over more often and not to attack them. Peach finds it hilarious once she realizes that Bowser is very obviously flirting with Luigi. Even more so when King Boo at Bowser's behest to sign the treaty also flirts heavily with Luigi. Both want the man's attention and Luigi Poor bastard is utterly freaked out. Mario is more amused than Annoyed but still yells at the guys to knock it off and leave his twin the hell alone.

Miraculous Ladybug: Marinette and Felix get trapped by a train collision in an underground tunnel trapping them and other passengers. Felix finally fed up with Marinette being utterly blind to his advances tells her he likes her. She surprises him with a confession of her own. (I started this one, but ehhh I haven't written for it in a long time)

Another one is Marinette and Gabriel starting to see each other, but in their hero/villain costumes and talking about what they want from the world. Marinette is well aware that Hawkmoth is trying to save a life and this goes on for months before Marinette accidentally finds Gabriel shifting out of Hawkmoth. Starting a fight between them, where she tries to take the Butterfly pendent from him. Both are bruised and battered-panting for breath when Gabriel basically says fuck it and pulls her to him, Kissing her at the same time he allows her to take his pendant. Marinette unsure of his intentions runs off which he allows. More than aware that a relationship between them was basically impossible but hoped she'd come back and tell him how she felt.

TMNT: A story about Mikey becoming a super awesome stealthy Soot! His skills are legendary, and he does it for his family so they have enough money and because he likes the thrill and sometimes the stuff he steals. (A subplot for my fic Pac-Man)

Isakai: Slow Life: A new one for me but I've been playing this game for months lol I want to write a fic between Sadako and Dia. Both are ghosts, Sadako for you horror movie lovers is 100% the one from the Ring franchise but if she were a lady trapped in a mirror and kind? When I first saw her I knew but had to look up to make sure they had the same name which they do lol Funny choice for a romance game but to each their own at least she is pretty in it lol

Harry Potter: Vampire Harry Potter Takes Lucius Malfoy for one hell of a ride. The original idea was for Harry to basically fall into a blood lust and snap out of it before actually killing the man and then forcing him to swear that he'd serve Harry and not Tom Riddle. In return, Harry would protect him and his family.

Star Wars: Obi-Wan as a sith is confronted by a padawan Anakin Skywalker, who was separated from his Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan remembers when he used to be Qui-Gon's Padawan before he was abandoned on Melida/Daan

#creative writing #writing #answering asks #sorry it took me so long to get to this!#fanfiction #my writing #asks #writblr #writers of tumblr #hellsing ultimate #yu yu hakusho #danny phantom #Isakai: Slow Life #miraculous ladybug #teenage mutant ninja turtles #the super mario bros movie #super mario bros #harry potter #star wars

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ilikereadingactually · 1 month

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Dry Land

Dry Land by B. Pladek

i'm writing this review on a rainy day, looking out the window at trees that are just starting to bud, which feels like the right mood to invoke while thinking about this book. it has a wistful and melancholy sort of quality that is catnip to me!

this is a quiet book, i think, which is quite a feat for a story set during WWI, and it's combining elements in ways that are interesting to me! there's the history piece, which we're seeing from the perspective of Rand, working in the Forest Service and then drafted into the war. there's his ability to make plants grow, which feels magical but is studied and understood (by Rand and by others) through a science lens. there's his relationships--with his younger sister Greta, with his former-crush-now-best-friend Jonna, with his lover Gabriel--and the ways in which all of those relationships are strained and stretched by Rand's single-mindedness and tendency toward self-sacrifice.

and there's nature. wilderness, or less-than-wilderness; dreamy narratives of plants and trees and the creatures living among them; Rand's intense focus on ecology and understanding his power through it, using his power to restore and improve it. this book poses interesting questions about what the ideal state of nature actually is, how wild it should be, and how to understand the complicated web that makes up an ecosystem. not just the living things, but time, and change, and human interference. it actually reminded me a little bit of The Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, which i reviewed briefly at the start of this blog.

all in all, the story of someone who's a little too inside himself and his own perspective, who places too little value on his own life and has to learn better, really resonated for me. and listen, i have a real weakness for lists of plants with beautiful names, okay?

the deets

how i read it: a physical copy for once! it's a really nice cover, and it was lovely to sit in bed and have the book in my hands to read.

try this if you: have feelings about ecology and conservation, dig a book with just one speculative element, love watching a character hit bottom and climb back out, or find a sideways/distant angle on WWI appealing

maybe not for you if: you need to avoid suicide and suicidal ideation. it's not graphic, but it is a major plot point and happens on the page.

some bits i really liked: so much beautiful prose!

"For the flies," he said. Better wards existed, but Rand had not been able to bring himself to snap the few white pine saplings he'd seen for their juice. All new growth seemed more sacred now, since his secret. "Thanks," said Gabriel, nose wrinkling as Rand held out the cup of fat. More fastidious than the rest of the team, he always rubbed it in like aftershave, almost too thorough to be effective. One night, flushed and stupid, Rand had joked he liked him smelling of bacon. Gabriel had barked with laughter.

---

As he watched, at the tips of his fingers two green nubs pushed up. Their buds opened like white stars. Trembling, Rand shifted his hands to the bole's far side. Touching the soil again, he drew up another trillium, then another, pausing between each to touch their leaves, stems, sepals.

---

Shaking, he dipped his gift like a pen into his thudding heartbeat. He drew, filling it. Then he reached back deep into the marsh.

#books and reading #booklr #bookblr #book recs #book reviews #queer sff #queer historical fiction #dry land #b pladek

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shadesofdeviant · 5 months

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I present to you: a snippet from one of my upcoming Good Omens Advent Calendar prompts.

The Prompt is: "A Christmas Carol".

No prizes for spotting the slightly blatant inspiration for this one.

Hope you like it!

The first thing Aziraphale notices, is that he can’t focus on the book held precariously in his lap. The title, aged leather and elegant print that should be so familiar to him, are incomprehensible and seemingly little more than a placeholder to keep him situated somewhere familiar until his next spectral guide arrives. The second thing he notices, is when a familiar form appears in his peripheral and perches himself on the arm of Aziraphale’s armchair in a scent cloud of sandalwood and amber top tones over a base of musk and patchouli. “Do you have any porcini mushrooms?” Crowley asks without any prior word of greeting.

“Any what my dear?” Aziraphale blinks and looks up confused. “Porcini mushrooms Angel,” Crowley repeats, smiling down at him as he makes a slight swirling gesture with his fingers. “I know you prefer the button variety but they just won’t do.” “Yes, I thought that’s what you asked,” Aziraphale frowns, before taking another moment to properly look at his partner. The demon’s attire is new, but not exactly out of character for his particular aesthetic, and in any other scenario, Aziraphale would have been more than willing to wax lyrical about how well the cut of the red-trimmed military jacket suited his slim frame. His hair is back to the length it had been prior to the Anti-Christ’s arrival, but rather than a beautiful waterfall of gentle ruby waves, the strands are sticking out at all angles, as if the poor dear had been rather unceremoniously dragged through a hedge backwards. But the main thing that Aziraphale finds himself focusing on, is the rather prominent stubble beard Crowley is now sporting across the sharp lines of his jaw and spreading ever so slightly down the gentle curve of his neck. The one and only time Crowley had attempted to keep a stubble beard had been in the late 1980’s when it had replaced the handlebar moustache as the height of fashion. The demon had managed three days of whining and constantly scratching at his face like an angry, flee-ridden yet oddly adorable puppy dog before he’d given up and gotten rid of it, declaring it was either full facial hair or a clean shave from then on. “So, Porcini mushrooms?” Crowley asks again as he stands up, twirling on the spot to grin down at the blond before disappearing off towards their kitchen in a way that Aziraphale could describe as nothing less than a flounce. “Crowley, my dear, why do you need Porcini mushrooms?” Crowley’s fingers appear first, curling round the doorframe before his body swings into view like he was Gene Kelly singing in the rain, an almost dopey grin still scrunching up his cheeks. “I’m making you a risotto Angel! We can’t go travelling on an empty stomach. I’ve got a lot to fix after everything the Gabriel of your past showed you.” “So you’re my---?” “Vision of Christmas present yes!” Crowley states eagerly, before swinging back the way he came and disappearing out of sight once more. “Come along Angel! I don’t have all night!”

#rinwrites #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Ineffable Spouses #Aziracrow #Probably not the final draft #But I wanted to share something for the first time in a while #Seven Sentence Sunday

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midnight1404 · 3 months

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For Lovu! 🍼 🍨 🍄🍎🍒 🍅🥭🧅🍕🥃🥐🌾 🥒🌳🍃🌸🍧

i will respond these questions for family tree!Lovu :3 (he's very diferent from the possible I'm you and you're me!Lovu

tw: idealization to self-harm, emotional abuse, etc

🍼 What's your OC's first memory?

Being held by his Grandmother Christine in the rocking chair next to his crib, he remembers she has blond-white long hair, she was cold and her arms were very thin and wrinkled, he remembers being called "jakey" or "Tommy" but never by his real name as he was falling asleep.

(When he mentioned this to his family at dinner one night. Taliya and Lo'ak were shocked while Jake has an amused face like it was just a fucking joke.

"It seems he's crazy like your sister, baby." Jake says to Lo'ak.

At bedtime, Taliya said to her little brother that Grandmother Christine died a year before his birth.)

🍨How does your OC compose in stressful situations?

The majority of times, he just cries until he can calm down and think better the situation. When he gets to be 13, after try to be more like jake told him a boy is supossed to be but failing, he just accepts that he is a cry baby, so he just hides from daddy when he cant take it anymore, and cry until the nerves are gone. Also but this is mostly a way of cope with any bad situation in general that is fun of the situation, making bad and pesimist jokes about it.

Tw: self harm mention.

He is not gonna lie that he thought sometimes in hit or cut himself every time he cries in a form of punishment but one of the bad things of be capable of see and interact with ghosts is never be alone and privacy is a foreign concept to him, so he ended to decline that option.

[MUSHROOM ASK] How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find?

Very high, i can see him picking a white mushroom from a tree in one of the family trips to the beach and his curiosity winning over his reason (something that happens often), and as consequence having to being taken to the hospital inmdediately.

Also, i have the hc like one of the characters from "One hundred years of solicitude" By Gabriel Garcia Marquez, between his 4-8 years he liked to eat dirt until Jake had to force him to stop by the bad way.

🍎Who does your OC value above all else?

I think the easiest answer would be Taliya bc is not just his oldest sister but the person that helps him in everything and often deals with the problems he causes. But, is also truth that Lo'ak is the person that always showed him the most affection and love when he needed it, and Jake...well Jake is Daddy and he always was there to protect and take care (if the care was good or bad way is another topic) of him, so yes, he is also important.

In resume, i think he values his family above everything else even if it is fucked up.

🍒Who is your OC's perfect companion?

Between the alive, Taliya without doubt but between the ghosts that are always walking, looming, etc through his house is Neteyam, the first ghost that presented to him by his real name, something that ghosts doesnt do often.

Neteyam would help him escape from Jake when things are tense, he would talk with him about almost everything (Except about Jake and Lo'ak and the forbidden attic) and he is maybe is his best friend.

🍅How misunderstood is your oc?

Well, we can say he suffers over toxic masculinity from part of Jake (also a little bit from Taliya and Loak but is more something that they have internalized from living in pratiarchy, etc). Being too strict with what he does, make him try his same hobbies (hunt, shooting bc #americamilitardad trauma and boxing when he is older), openly dislike when Lovu shows his emotions by crying or being too excited (even if lovu inherited being emotional from him bc lets be honest: loak is in harmony with his heart and Rjake is emotions mess like his son (just that Lovu is more of the crying type while rjake the oppsite)).

He is also very judged by his teachers, having problems to take attention to class, almost always being found sleeping during class (he and taliya share the same sleep problems but he is worse bc even if she can see shadows, she can't heard them unlike her brother can with ghosts. "Grandpa Ron loves sing in the bathroom at midnight." He says to his oldest sister one morning on their way at school. "He sucks at it but he pretends the oppossite.") and sometimes he screams in class out of nowhere (a ghost's problem, they like play rude with him in some ocassions)

🥭 What colours represent them the best? And why? Does this differs from their favorite colors?

Mmmm...blue, dark green and gray, mostly due the ghost magic thing and because he is a sad anxious boy 24/7 that love rainy days while his favorite colour would be yellow or orange.

🧅 What is surefire to make your OC cry? Who knows of this information?

He hates the silent treatment, the silence is not jus unnatural for him, and if he doesn't talk with someone alive the dead ones's voices would be the only sound he could heard, but is also always has the meaning he did something really bad even if he cant understand what. Obviously, the one who apply this the most is jake but sadly, pre-teen taliya used to do it too when they fought until her brother ended crying all night one time, making her realize it was very serious for him.

🍕How good is your OC at sharing? How do they share something if there is not enough supply?

More than share, Lovu never had something he could call completely his (his clothes are his daddy or uncle, toys were taliya's first, the ghosts love steal his things or hide them to mess with him, etc) more his relationship with taliya makes him learn to share almost everything since young age so i can see him always being open to share something that there is not supply for (except inthe specific case where is to someone outside of his family and is about basic life item like medicine that they would need, in that case he would say the other person to fuck off (not literally ofc bc he would shit his pants first)

🥃 What does your OC look for in a friend? What do they find is a turn-off?

He is a happy with a friend that would stay with him even after they notice how he talks to a wall sometimes. tbh, he is a very lonely kid like his sister and their daddy is Rjake, he doesnt have high-moral standards for a friend, while they don't treat him like if he were stupid and is a good person making conversation, he would not care if they have killed all their own family and keep the bodies in the back garden of their house as long as they don't involve him in that problem.

("Your bestfriend is fucking ghost," Taliya said to him one time.

"And you don't have friends at all," He fought back. "That's why you make me follow you in everything."

"That hurts my feelings."

"Sorry," He answer quickly, trying to fix it. "i mean it but that doesnt have something bad, you know? like Daddy says Weirdos stay together."

"Shut up, Lovu."

"Sorry.")

🥐 Where is your OC from? How do they feel about their homeland? Where are they now?

As his sister, he is from a small hidden town that my peanut brain didn't chose a name yet for it but tbh even if everyone there knows each other due to be so small, he likes his house that has a lot of privacy and space, also there are rumors about ghosts being stronger in big cities and he already has enough of that in the present.

🌾 How picky is your OC with food? What will and won't they eat?

Thanks to Grandfather Ron's ghost telling him about his most explicit experiences in combat (he was exagerating a good part of them tho) Lovu started hate meat and he is vegetarian (this causes a lot of jokes from Jake)

🥒 How innocent are they (unaware to the bad happenings around them)?

We can say he is very an inocent kid in general but not bc he cant understand what is hapening around him (Taliya and neteyam are also a good help atleast know when something bad is happening in the house) to him in that way but more bc he is constantly deniyng what is the reality of why his house is full of ghost haunting it, especially the ones who are not related to him or his family.

🌳What's your OC's favourite thing to do at the park?

Unlike Taliya, Lovu doesnt like being at the park at all, too much sun, too much kids (even if himself is one) too much noise but when he is there, he likes pass hours in the hammocks, playing "i spy with my litte eye" with neteyam or his sister, doing his best to ignore the ghosts of kids around the place bc they always have the worst backgroud stories of how they died and he doesnt need to know about it.

🍃What's the darkest period of time your OC has been through?

I cant so much here bc it would be heavy spoilers from Family Tree so i just will say he and Taliya are separated from their parents for some months and none of them is having a good time with it.

🌸 Does your OC believe in legends/myths?

In a way, he can make contact with some of the own legends and myths by himself, so yeah, he is completely sure they are truth.

🍧 What's your OC's favourite flavour of edible thing (e.g., strawberry)?

DARK CHOCOLATE IN EVERYTHING.

#family tree #listen ik this makes see family tree like a sad bad comedy but is just his way to deal with his problems #lovu #ocs #asks games #mutuals #he doesnt have a coffee adiction problem just bc loak and jake hates coffee and never buy it #tbh i think the rjakelo family of this fic is getting to much “murderous family/cult” that it would have an documental about them #magic realism

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rcreveal · 3 months

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A Tattoo Temptation

Beelzebub and Gabriel are hiding out in the Pacific Northwest living the van life. Learning to be an 'us' has some funny and angsty developments in this short one-shot. But the fly will save the day! Prompt: tattoos for the Jan 2024 Prompt a week challenge in Sendarya's Discord Discussion Group

Work Text:

Beelzebub sat down at the bar while Gabriel looked around appreciatively, taking in the filagreed wooden ceiling tiles, comfortable sofas, and most importantly, the keg dispensers in the back under hand-carved and painted signs of the entertainingly-named drinks. Why did humans lavish such creativity and artwork on their intoxicating beverages?

“I thought I’d invite you to a little tasting this time,” smiles Beelzebub, resting their head on their fist and exposing a finely detailed tattoo of a fly.

Gabriel smiles back, exclaiming, “Is that new? Did you make that?” gently taking Beelzebub’s arm and rubbing a thumb over the soft skin of their inner wrist tracing the iridescent eyes of the fly.

Shivering pleasantly, Beelzebub shook their head, “Nah! That would take all the fun out of it, silly angel.”

“Fun?” replies Gabriel, looking more closely.

“Thousands of needle pokes into my skin. Fun,” replied Beelzebub.

“Oh, awhhh, ewwww” Gabriel tries not to show that he’s throwing up a little in his mouth, “Right. Fun.”

Beelzebub grins, knowing how much they’ve unsettled him, “I’ll invite you to watch my next one.”

“No, no. Some ‘fun’ is better on our own,” says Gabriel, looking a little more anxiously at the kegs now. “So, what’s the surprise?”

“I wanted to introduce you to kombucha!” says Beelzebub waving at the tasting room.

Gabriel turns his head and raises an eyebrow at the demon.

Who sighs and leans forward, “You know, the rotten tea the fly suggested we try.”

“Oh, right! Rotten tea,” replies Gabriel, perking up considerably. He’d quite liked sampling the soggy rotten bread ‘beer’ at the ‘brewery’.

“I got tired of having to stop and expel alcohol from my system. You know, I can alter my consciousness all by myself, thanks. But the rotted taste is interesting. So, the fly brought me here.”

“Kombucha isn’t intoxicating?” Gabriel asks, slightly disappointed. A little intoxication wasn’t so bad.

“Nah, not as such,” Beelzebub turned to the human behind the counter sporting loose hempen trousers, the ones that looked like a full skirt had been sewn together at the bottom with just foot holes left and a sleeveless hooded puffed vest. The ensemble showed off the human’s full sleeve tattoos of intricate intertwined flowers, bones, ferns, insects, and mushrooms and they’d topped it off with rose quartz ear gauges peeking out from a slouchy knit hat and a small gold nasal piercing. With the colorful humans in the Pacific Northwest, Gabriel and Beelzebub had found that they could hide out without attracting much notice. The non-humans were even more colorful.

“What would you like to taste?” the kombucha human asked.

“Let’s try the Ginger Zen, Peach Rose, Raspberry Reishi, Blackberry Herbalism, and Skullcap Hibiscus,” Beelzebub ordered for them, Gabriel loved it when they did that.

Gabriel gratefully looked on as familiar quarter pint glasses were filled from the kegs on the back wall and brought to the bar. Sniffing them, Gabriel certainly thought they smelled intoxicating, but more floral and fruity with a bit of vinegar. He tried each in turn while Beelzebub asked for a refill of the Skullcap Hibiscus and exclaimed on the intricacy and extent of the human’s tattoos, asking after the skin poking artist’s establishment.

With a half pint glass almost to their lips, Beelzebub looks over side-eyed at Gabriel, and smiles a small, wicked smile. Knocking back the last of the kombucha and setting the glass decisively on the wooden bar, they say, “Alright, you asked for it. I'll tempt you to it. Let's go,” now lavishing a full smile on Gabriel.

Looking perplexed and pointing all the fingers of one hand at himself, Gabriel shifts his shoulders, “Asked for what?”

Leaning intimately close to him, wispy hair brushing his cheek, Beelzebub whispers in his ear, “Your first tattoo. Done the human way. I can feel you wanting it.” The demon sits back, chin tucked in, a little smug shrug, looking at him coyly from under those never ending lashes.

Mouth opening and closing while his eyebrows look like the wooly bear caterpillars they've seen crossing the footpaths, Gabriel finally closes his mouth and looks to the side before whispering loudly back, “How did you know before I did?”

Laughing lightly, “Silly angel! It's my job,” and they chucked him gently under the chin and grabbed his hand.

Calling to the kombucha human, Beelzebub says, “I'll come back for a keg of the Skullcap Hibiscus tomorrow, Riley. Gotta take this angel for his first tattoo!”

“Oh! Congratulations!! You’ll be fine! Just keep breathing.” the kombucha human gushed as Beelzebub tugged Gabriel out the door.

Together they climbed into a tall, oversized van, the kind that would make most ‘Van-life’ Instagrammers salivate with the solar panels and the inverter battery, the japandi-styled interior, ultralight birch paneling, tiny full kitchen, and wet bath. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the vanity plates spelled ‘HELVEN’ while the fly rode on the bobble-head sasquatch on the dash.

“Uh, so how does this work?” Gabriel asks while Beelzebub drives.

Smirking at him, Beelzebub counters, “The temptation or the tattoo?”

Sucking his cheeks in and looking from side to side, perplexed, Gabriel tries to choose, “Both things. At the same time, maybe?”

“Dealer’s choice, huh? That’s a dangerous thing to give a demon, angel,” and laughs at his look of unease. “Temptation first then, on the way to the tattoo part.”

Beelzebub turns back into town, “I felt you wanting something and trying to hide it from yourself, talking yourself out of wanting it, putting it away from yourself. That sort of thing sings out to demons like me.”

“But why would tattoos be bad? So many humans love their tattoos! They’re proud of them,” points out Gabriel.

Beelzebub snorts, “I didn’t say tattoos were bad! A temptation isn’t just about bad stuff. Humans hide good, bad, and indifferent things from themselves all the time! The temptation is that I’m making you really look at all the enticing bits about whatever you try to hide from yourself. I felt you being really fascinated by my tattoo, the human’s tattoos, the idea of tattoos, and trying to hide that from yourself. So. Perfect thing to tempt you with.”

“Oh. Okay. So how do human tattoos work?” asks Gabriel.

Beelzebub pulls into a parking space outside a building covered with a huge, colorful mandala mural, ‘Mystik Ink’ worked into the art over the storefront. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll show you,” Beelzebub suggests.

Walking into Mystik Ink, Gabrielle smells a mix of incense, while there’s ‘music’ noise coming from speakers and a strange high pitch buzzing breaking through the other noise. There are many upholstered chairs with humans laying down or reclining while another holds a contraption attached to some hoses. Oh! The buzzing contraption is how the ink gets in the human’s skin! Weird.

“How come the humans don’t just manifest the tattoo they want?” Gabriel asks.

“They don’t have that kind of control over their corporations, so they do it this way,” explains Beelzebub.

“Oh. Okay. What are those?” Gabriel points at posters over much of the wallspace that are covered with all sorts of designs of various sizes.

“Those are some stock tattoo designs you can choose from. They’ve got the artist’s name up top, so you can see their style a bit. That collection of squares inside a square at the bottom let’s humans use a phone to look at more custom pieces,” explains Beelzebub, continuing to lead Gabriel to the front desk. “Do you see any that catch your fancy?”

“Nah. But that poster is the first of the group starting from the left. That represents the first word in a sentence, so that must be the best artist!” declares Gabriel.

Beelzebub looks at a poster that has collected roly poly depictions of the most sickeningly cute cartoon characters ever drawn. ‘I might be a demon,’ they think, ‘but even I have limits and I cannot look at one of those on his corporation for eternity!’

“No! I mean, no, the tattoo artists aren’t ranked.”

“Oh. Okay. I don’t pick the best tattoo artist and tell them to give me the best tattoo? I’m really confused. How did you choose a design?” asks Gabriel. The human behind the front desk has wisely decided that now is a great time to take their break. This couple has some things to talk about.

Beelzebub looks a little perplexed by the question, “I wanted a fly, because ‘Lord of the Flies,’ I like flies , Gabriel! What do you like?” Beelzebub was getting exasperated. This was an unexpectedly difficult temptation. Most temptees had more of a clue about what was tempting them.

“Oh. Okay. I pick something I ‘like’ and they,” he points at the tattoo artists, “put it on my skin with those buzzing needle things!”

“Yes!” Beelzebub says through gritted teeth, “Now what do you like, angel!”

“I like you,” he says immediately.

“Obviously, but I do not authorize my likeness on your corporation,” counters Beelzebub decisively.

“I liked my legion in the big battle you and I fought in together!” says Gabriel, “Ah, those were good times! Smiting! We really…oh,” Gabriel stopped talking. He had never been good at reading a room, but even he could detect the arctic blasts coming off Beelzebub. Their whole corporation seemed to have frozen, except for their glaring eyes.

“Smiting demons, like me?” Beelzebub looked at the ceiling, their eyes were unexpectedly watery. “You know what? You passed! Temptation averted! I’m just going to go. On a walk. I’ll be back…” but Beelzebub didn’t say when they’d be back, just turned on their heel and stalked out the door, into the light rain, past their van, and down the street into the small downtown.

Gabriel looked at the receding figure and felt strangely…bad. Feeling bad about things he said or did was a new experience for him, but one that he’d been experiencing distressingly frequently with Beelzebub. This being an ‘us’ was much harder than he’d expected. The tattoo human came back from their break and looked at Gabriel and the space where Beelzebub had been and over at the closest tattoo artist who had seen the whole thing and gave a little head shake that communicated, ‘No, dude, you don’t want to ask.’

“Sooo, welcome to Mystic Ink! Did you want to get a tattoo today?” the tattoo human asked Gabriel.

Gabriel stood, deep in thought for a moment, “Yes. But I need to consult with a friend first.”

Several hours later, Beelzebub walked back to Mystic Ink. The large windows displayed the inside of the shop like a jewel box, still with several clients inside, but no Gabriel. Beelzebub knew the angel was in their van. Beelzebub let their head fall to their chest while standing in front of the door to ‘Hellven’. The two of them had named the van after this little piece of Hell/Heaven that they were making together. Some days, like today, it just felt like they were making a mess of things. Why did entering the haven they’d made for themselves feel more intimidating than leading the Dark Council on a bad day? Beelzebub raised their head and put on a neutrally bored look and entered the van.

Gabriel, who was sitting at the tiny two person table reading the van owner’s manual, looked up with an unusually grave expression on his face. Standing quickly, he said, “I’m sorry! I said the wrong thing. Again. I hurt your feelings.”

Beelzebub hovered in the stairwell, looking even further up than usual at Gabriel, kinda reminding them of looking up at Gabriel leading the legions against them. Not good. Beelzebub stepped up into the space and Gabriel sat down, looking up at them.

“You did,” said Beelzebub, sighed, “But, not on purpose,” Gabriel opened his mouth, but Beelzebub held up a hand, “Can we just call truce? Please? I’m not ready to talk just now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gabriel said quietly while Beelzebub folded themselves into the little seat across from him at the tiny table. He studied their face while the demon looked down and away.

Breathing in deeply, Beelzebub looked up into Gabriel’s eyes with an effort, turning their head and smiling that little smile they had, “So. Did you get your tattoo?”

“Yes! I got my first tattoo!” announced Gabriel.

“Really! You went through with it!?” Beelzebub was genuinely surprised, and now a little worried about what he’d picked out. “May I see?”

“Sure,” Gabriel pulled up the right sleeve of the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing. A shiny plastic bandage covered the inside of his forearm, protecting, but not obscuring the new tattoo along the middle:

🪰***EVERYDAY***💕

Towards his elbow by the ‘Y’ were simple entwined hearts and towards his wrist and the ‘E’, a small fly

“I got this to remember the first gift I ever received,” he points at the fly.

Gabriel then points at the word, “The first gift I ever gave someone, the song, ‘Everyday.’”

“And what that means to me,” he points at the entwined hearts and looks back into Beelzebub’s face.

“This tattoo reminds me that I am learning to be an ‘us’ with you everyday. So, I’ll make mistakes, which hurt. Kinda like the tattoo hurt! But I really, really want to get it right so I’ll stick it out and not try to run out of the shop after the first letter, even though I really, really wanted to,” he looks back up at Beelzebub.

Tracing the tattoo with one finger, Beelzebub asks, “That was truly, sickeningly, sweet and expressive. Did you come up with all that?”

Raising his chin as if to nod, then shaking his head Gabriel says, “I… did not!” Beelzebub smiles with their head to the side, “Except for the part about wanting to run out of the shop after the first letter, that was all me,” he held out a finger and the fly landed on it. Gabriel says to it, “Luckily, I had a friend to talk me through the tough parts. Thanks, buddy.”

Beelzebub held out their finger and the fly jumped over to it. Raising the fly to their eye level, Beelzebub says, “Yes, thank you, little friend.”

Looking back over at Gabriel, Beelzebub challenges, “Do you know what I’m tempted to do now?”

Gabriel studies Beelzebub thoughtfully, “You’re tempted to go to a music noise gathering? But, why would that be a temptation? We’ve been to those before.”

“This one’s music and dancing. It’s called a ballet,” shrugs Beelzebub.

“What about it are you not thinking about but secretly interested in?” asks Gabriel, curiously.

“We have to get dressed up. It’s supposed to be a refined, cultural experience,” replies Beelzebub.

“Oh. Okay. Can I tempt you to a ballet?” Gabriel asks. With a small miracle, he puts on a tailored suit.

“Sure,” says Beelzebub, miracling their own suit.

Gabriel smiles to himself, “Huh, that wasn’t so hard.”

Beelzebub blesses him with a true, genuine smile.

Sometimes being an ‘us’ is hard and sometimes it’s easier, but still takes some work, thinks Gabriel.

“Are you worried that anyone will notice our frivolous clothing miracles?” asks Beelzebub driving to the performance center.

“Nah. Not with Aziraphale as Supreme Archangel, he’s a sweetheart,” Gabriel replies.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Heaven…

#good omens fanfic #short one shot #neil gaiman #fluff and romance #fluff and angst #happy ending #first tattoo #gabriel good omens #good omens beelzebub #gabriel x beelzebub #gabriel and the fly #vanlife #pacific northwest #promptfic #they/them beelzebub #beelzebub loves gabriel #gabriel loves beelzebub #post season 2

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lemonsbakery · 9 months

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Hey uhm what are your ocs

cracking my knuckles.

CR OCS :333

Strawberry cat cookie/CC (blunt little girl with a terrible memory. needs therapy so badly)

Chocolate cat cookie/010 (mentally ill in so many ways . in a me way but I'm not like so scary)

Vanilla cat cookie (I HATE HER EVIL CAT GHOST LADY)

Cherry cat cookie (the mom of the cat triplets. People keep victimizing her even though she was also apart of the problem)

'Flour' cookie (cocaine. Father of the cat triplets. I hate him)

Dog treat cookie (SILLY SKATER LESBIAN GIRL underaged smoker and also has a crush on strawberry cat cookie in the future but cc is really fucking stupid and cant pick up on dog treat cookies obvious pickup lines)

Linzer cookie (dead military ghost lady, also known as silly lesbian emo girl)

Banana candy cookie (therapist and scientist, also known as lesbian scene girl)

Banana split cookie (eldest child of banana candy and linzer, really liked lofi, died at like um 11 or something)

Berry jam cookie (youngest child of banana candy and linzer, really liked vocaloid, died at like 9 years old)

Spritz cookie (SILLY SO SILLY SO SO SO SO SO SILLY AND COOL AND people keep watering magic down to innocent and sweet magic so much more, candy is silly but not stupid. shes a little stupid but not fucking DUMB) (also she/magic/candy pronouns for spritz thankies)

PISS COOKIE. (joke oc)

Flan cookie (HAUGHTY LOCKSMITH WHO has a little kid issue and also is sort of a roguefort fangirl but he will never admit it to anybody else)

Girl scout cookie (bothers haughty locksmith and keeps getting stuck in unconventional places, for example, inside of traffic cone and a vending machine. Also she knows Everyones home address.)

Pink grass cookie (BASED ON THOSE LIKE. UM. THOSE EGGS THAT HAD THE FLAVORED GRASS IN IT. Shes so mentally ill and um she kind of has some Serious issues with. everything oh god save her shes so fucked the religious trauma is insane)

Moose tracks cookie (47 year old single train conductor that's rivals with two other train stations but also thinks its all fun and games and loves her rivals and also will call you sweetheart, honey, and dearheart)

Microplastic cookie (wip. I am not elaborating.)

OTHER OCS :33

Mio Mirai (Girlboss v-tuber who will manipulate you and act cute while doing it)

Junichi Mirai (Brother of girlboss v-tuber. Makes really good eggs. My friends keep calling him a whore)

Grace Happyfield (Genius fucking 12 year old with cat ears and is also being raised by two maniacs that love her so much and she loves them both too. One is her mom and the other is this girl owned by my friend who taught her how to properly kill men and get away with it by being a cutie pie xx Oh and her moms a lesbian)

Alice Happyfield (GRACIES MOM!! She had her daughter kill her husband and experimented on his body. Sold the leftovers)

Harmony (I dont have a last name for her. shes 12 and had a crush on her friend who was a girl but uhoh her friend who was agirl got assassinated for being openly pansexual!!! uhoh!! shes also friends with Gracie heheohoho)

Egret Flowers (Roblox oc, really silly child that has underlying attachment and self image issues. Also she doesn't have a face)

Lilith (TMC oc, basically shes like Gabriel but instead she targets men specifically by gaining their trust and crushing them)

Alexander Weeks (FNAF oc, he's so transgender and really wants his mom dead . Btw keep in mind that he's a fnaf oc and a minor that's transgender in the 1980s)

Alex (same guy as above but make him an edgy robot that really likes cats)

Zombie cat (Read the name)

Sorrel (Epithet erased oc!! Her epithet is creativity, she basically turns fiction into reality at the expense of her own or others energy. She has no idea how to properly work it shes like 11 OH AND SHE HAS A MOTHER FIGURE THAT ALSO HAS AN EPITHET THATS MUSHROOM THEMED and and also sorrel likes baking)

Cloth (An alien that crash landed on earth. He is completely convinced that he's a human)

Ecole (An alien that crash landed on earth with cloth. She is cloths sister. shes is a famous dancer, and is on every magazine from her home planet. She wants to smack some sense into her brother)

Sew (ANOTHER ALIEN that crash landed on earth. She doesn't think she's a human or an alien, he is just himself. They also really like surfing and skating)

Doll (An old porcelain doll that was abandoned in a garden. It now tends to the plants itself since nobody else will)

MY PErSONA!! (I'm counting this as an oc because my persona has lore

theres more, but ill spare you LMSFAO

#lems ocs #save

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scripturient1998 · 11 months

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🍄 and 🌻for Jack, Linley, Janessa, Kiera, Gabrielle, and ✨my boy✨

FIRST of all, how dare you make me think about Steven.

🍄 [MUSHROOM] How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find?

Jack: not unless he knows exactly what it is? and even then, probably not, unless it was a matter of survival. Lynley: again, probably not if she didn't know it was safe, but also??? she might. you never know with her. Janessa: most likely not without knowing, but also if some berries looked really good, she'd probably give them a try. Kiera: again, pretty much all of these characters would be concerned about safety first and foremost, but, yeah, if she did know they were safe, she'd probably forage a few berries along a trail while she was walking. Gabrielle: her powers would tell her if they were safe so... potentially yeah? Steven: probably not?

🌻 [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?

Jack: next to one specific person lol that is the only correct answer Lynley: she's a romantic; she gets lost in beautiful sights easily Janessa: looking out over someplace open: the view from the top of a hill, standing on the edge of a lake, anywhere where everything is just wide and free and breathing. Kiera: anywhere; she can find the beauty in anything Gabrielle: any meaningful surge of emotion + a beautiful sight would probably get her lost pretty easily Steven: literally how dare you make me answer this for him. is there even a correct answer? HONESTLY I think it's less about the place and more about the moment itself?? being with people he cares about & enjoying his time with them.

Thank you. <3 Also you are a monster.

#c: i just wish you were a better man #c: oh you are well named #c: heart and soul #c: beautiful bleeding heart #c: praying for a sign #c: you and I should stay the same

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a-luran · 8 months

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What food dishes feature in your fics?

that is legitimately such an interesting question, I'm delighted. It is top five asks that I have ever gotten.

Not a lot of my published works feature food, so far drinks are more prominent, but food takes a lot more of a central role in my wips so if it's alright with you I'll focus on that.

and the love that I hold for him

Arthur and Gabriel run a small kitchen and ingredient shop together. At risk of spoiling the long overdue second chapter, what brings them together in the first place is food. Arthur isn't well when they meet and the way Gabriel wins his trust over is slowly introducing him to different dishes; encouraging him to try a had at them himself. Pastéis de nata are a best seller in their wee shop and Gabriel's favourite dish to cook is arroz caldoso. Their pastéis de bacalhau also fly off their display.

One of the first dishes Arthur cooks, deep in his grief still, is caldo verde.

Summer Wine

This fic is a one shot centred around Arthur in the kitchen so food plays a big role. He's making home-made jam while Alasdair hangs around being a pest and while the focus is on their banter I wanted to show how Arthur cares for his garden and what grows there. There is a richness in kithencraft that suits Arthur very well i think, and aside from baking I think that his strong suit would be the kinds of things you traditionally gift others: marmalades, preserves, simple confection, infusions and stocks, and dishes like pies.

Coupons

This fic, like the title might imply, focused primarily on penny-saving and keeping a pantry full. I wanted to explore and recognise how food insecurity strains relationships and your feeling of self-worth and how economic anxieties really grind you down. Rather than a human AU i also chose to make it a 'modern' nationverse AU to highlight historical trends and also explore food insecurity, anxiety and guilt as historical inheritances in a modern world. How even when you have enough money to fill your pantry the anxiety never really goes away. It is a dark dark comedy, too. Some of the dishes featured I hoped would also reflect how immigration affects staple meals (which was almost the subject of a paper I was hoping to publish!)

Untitled FrUK fic

This fic is short and sweet and based on one of my favourite-ever headcanons: Arthur is always poking around and sneaking a bite when he visits Francis. The opening scene is literally Arthur sneaking confections while Francis is distracted on the stove (a parallel to Summer Wine but that is another conversation kskks). I love love the idea of food as love so it felt only right to have this one shot lead to a love confession.

Elysium

As a postwar fic, this one features a lot of hardy, nourishing dishes scrounged together from the bare minimum ingredients. Arthur is MIA for months after the war and comes back deeply shell-shocked, Alasdair loses a leg to the war. I did a lot of work (that I will not be disclosing on social media ksks) about the treatment of amputation, 'disfigurement', and neurasthenia as well as the race to rehabilitation across Europe in the early to mid twentieth century so I started to work on notes for this fic even back then. Food is an eminent focus in historical literature with good reason and I will always seek out excuses to write about it, even in the background of fic that I then fail to publish because I'm too busy irl.

Werewolf AU

This fic features tinctures and a lot of folk cooking traditions, which is dear to me. However it also features magic mushrooms with aphrodisiac qualities because this is first and foremost a horny, horny fic.

Thank you again for asking! i loved answering this ask.

#freagradh #my original fiction also has a million dishes and food plays a big role #i just love food i love cooking #food and kitchenwork have been so important in my life #also it has been so long but cannae stress enough how much and how differently Arthur loves Gabriel in and the love #porteng #fruk #british isles #gen fic

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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year

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Okay so mushroom for Ángel (although I feel like I know the answer XD), sunflower for Fausto and palm tree for Stanislaw and/or Lyudmila, if you'd like to

Thank you so much, Blue!

🍄 [MUSHROOM] How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find?

I love this question for Ángel XD Anyway, I think it’s quite plausible for several reasons: 1) he’s curious 2) he loves spending his time outdoors 3) he rarely thinks through

Ángel was strolling around the jungle trails, carelessly swinging his arms, until his eye was caught by a bush of bright red berries, “Oh, check it out, Gabe! Those berries look rad! I’m gonna taste it.”

Trudging through the thickets, Gabriel made his way to Ángel and stood next to the bush with his arms crossed and his eyes squinted, “Are you sure you should? What if they’re poisonous?”

“Is there any other way to find out?” Ángel laughed as he was examining the bush from all angles so he could choose the best berry to taste.

“Looking up in the atlas?” Gabriel muttered as he raised his eyebrow.

Ángel snorted and waved his arm at his incredulous friend. Once there was a berry that passed Ángel’s tough selection, he plucked it with a crunch and tossed it into his mouth.

Gabriel rolled his eyes yet he wasn’t surprised he’d been ignored again. As Ángel was chewing the berry, he turned to Gabriel and exclaimed, “See? Nothing happ—”

Ángel put his hand on his head as his knees buckled, and he fell on the ground. Gabriel’s eyes widened, and he rushed to Ángel, shaking his shoulder.

“Ángel!”

Gabriel grabbed Ángel’s hand and placed his fingers on his wrist to check his pulse and suddenly heard a giggle.

Gabriel frowned and saw how Ángel was slowly raising his head from the ground with a broad smile and intensifying laughter. Gabriel was staring at him, and once their eyes met, he pushed Ángel in his chest and got to his feet.

“Oh c’mon, Gabe! That was a joke!” Ángel exclaimed, trying to apologize yet he kept laughing.

He plucked a few more berries from the bush and caught up with Gabriel, handing them to him.

“As we got, they’re not poisonous,” Gabriel suspiciously looked at the berries and shifted his gaze to Ángel’s awkwardly smiling face.

Exhaling heavily, he took one berry and timidly put it into his mouth, slowly chewing it. Waiting for a few seconds to make sure nothing would happen to him, he looked at Ángel.

“Never joke like this.”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t want to put us in a berry situation again.”

“Now that was a very bad pun.”

“Yeah, I know. I had no ideas.”

Gabriel chuckled and took a few more berries from Ángel’s hand.

“You know, I plucked the berries you’re eating now from another bush. They taste even better.”

Gabriel froze for a moment and spat a berry out of his mouth which made Ángel laugh again.

🌻 [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?

Oh Fausto baby boy. It’s been such a long time since I’ve talked about him.

Okay, I’m not sure how to answer this question because I really don’t know x) But since he’s a musician, I can imagine him being absolutely fascinated by the concert halls especially when he performed on stage for the first time himself.

Fausto timidly pulled back the curtain and looked at the audience through a narrow gap. The concert hall was filled with people pointing their gazes at the stage and awaiting the beginning of the show.

Fausto clutched to the neck of his violin and abruptly moved away from the curtain, walking around the stage in circles.

It was the first concert he performed.

Many years spent composing on a violin and sharing his little works with his family and friends yet he couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat and how his palms were sweating when he pictured himself in front of the crowd of people staring at him in his head.

Fausto stopped when his draining anxiety was replaced by the warm words of encouragement he heard from his parents the day before the concert.

You make us happy, mijo.

They were proud of him. They always told him that. They knew how passionate he was and had no doubt he would give his all today.

A slight smile shone on Fausto’s face, and he turned towards the curtain as it was slowly opening. The concert was about to begin. He took a deep breath and placed his violin on his shoulder, gazing at the applauding audience.

He closed his eyes, and his bow was slowly running over the strings. The music coming from the violin dissolved in the air and intertwined with the pictures of his past that he could see in front of him despite still having his eyes closed.

The day his parents gave him his violin and encouraged him to create and be himself. Family “concerts” he arranged with his Abuela Scarlett. The first time he visited “a secret concert” his Papá and Tío Ángel visited themselves when they were teenagers.

He got lost in the moment and lowered his hand holding a bow and heard a loud applause which made him wake up from the trance and open his eyes widely. He saw how people were getting up from their seats to give him a standing ovation and heard how they were screaming his name.

Fausto froze for a moment, and then his lips curled into a soft smile. He bowed and scanned the concert hall, noticing his parents who were clapping and cheering for him more than anyone else in the auditorium.

He chuckled as he was overfilled with his own emotions and bowed for the last time before the curtain was closed.

🌴 [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on?

To be honest, this question is hard in itself and given the fact I hesitate giving the answer without discussing it with you first, it makes it even harder x)

Anyway, I’ll probably go with Lyudmila because her dream seems clearer to me than Stanislaw’s (I’m not sure what his dream even is?). She’s a knyaz, she wants to be a good ruler, to restore her kingdom to greatness, and given the fact how responsible and good at planning she is, she definitely knows what steps she has to make to achieve it. But the shadows of the past might pull her down.

After discussing the trade plans with the court, Lyudmila stayed in the council chamber to take a closer look at the treaties she thought of concluding with foreign kingdoms.

She smiled as she realized that Lachia’s position on the world stage was getting better and better every year and her own people rejoiced and felt more protected. They extolled her, they loved her, they didn’t hesitate to brag about how they had the best ruler in all of the EverRealm.

Lyudmila was flattered. But not in the sense that she felt unworthy of their praise. As a born royal, she always knew her own worth and strived to carry it as she was supposed to. Which, as she and the rest of Lachians could see, was successful.

She knew what she wanted to achieve and what was more important: she knew exactly what to do next to keep her kingdom flourished. It wasn’t exhausting, nor pressuring, it was natural and gratifying.

As Lyudmila was sorting out the papers, she came across an old torn sheet. She frowned and turned it to the other side with a quiet gasp. It was a letter Aleksandr wrote to her many years ago. When Stanislaw was gone.

Her eyes were running over the lines, and without reaching the end, she shook her head and put the letter on the desk to get back to her work.

It'd been several years since she’d found out the truth. Her best friend was to blame for the death of the man she loved. He’d earned her trust so he could lie to her and pretend that nothing happened. He betrayed her. And she still couldn’t forgive him.

She covered her forehead with her hand with a deep sigh as she couldn’t focus on anything else anymore. The only thing she thought about was Aleksandr. The day when she found out the truth.

Lyudmila kept standing in the middle of the room with her head down and suddenly heard a knock on the door. She turned her head and saw Stanislaw.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed as he kept standing at the doorway.

Lyudmila smiled, “We’re alone, Stasio. Come in.”

He entered the room, and Lyudmila was going to give him a hug but saw how he had his bandura on his back.

“I was going to play with the kids and thought I could perform something on my bandura!” He said and took a musical instrument in his hands, slowly strumming the strings.

“Remember how you heard me playing for the first time and then we spent our whole evenings together?”

“Yes. I remember. And how you were teaching me.”

“Trying to teach you,” Stanislaw laughed, and Lyudmila scoffed softly.

“And that was your favourite song.”

Stanislaw started playing, and Lyudmila was swaying slightly, remembering how she also heard this melody in her dreams when Stanislaw was gone. How it reminded her of him and how she never forgot him.

Once the music trailed off, Stanislaw glanced at Lyudmila and she fell into his arms.

“I love you.”

Stanislaw, not being caught off guard at all, responded to her embrace and whispered, “I love you, too, Miła.”

They released each other from their arms, and Lyudmila glanced at the desk filled with papers.

“You know, I’ve been working for quite a long time now, so I think I’ll join you.”

Stanislaw kissed Lyudmila on her forehead and took her hand with a beam. She smiled back.

OC Ask Game

#Ask me anything #Ask meme #My OCs #Ángel Suarez #Fausto Nuñez Turner #Lyudmila the Restorer #Stanislaw Chrabrak #Now I have no idea why I took your ask as a writing request but I hope you’re cool with that akjskdkkd #I don’t know how well I wrote Lyudmila and Stanislaw but I hope it’s good enough and you don’t cringe #The point of Lyudmila’s story is that in order to make her dream come true she also needs to spend her time with her family for balance #I just didn’t know how to put it into words nicely #And it’s also the first time I write Fausto!#He has no speaking lines but who cares #В Анхеле умирает актёр #Hmm I probably also need to tag it as #My writing #Not really writing but also is #ugh

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