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teddybeartoji · 2 months

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mickey i am kissing ur brain so gently i literally just woke up but i saw the bi!toji post ……… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 REAL & CANON BTW but for some reason the first thought that popped into my head was. uni au….. janitor!toji/professor!reader…………….. hear me out.

toji who just stopped working as an assassin and is trying to get his life together, who just happened to land a job as a janitor at a prestigious university that he takes fairly seriously…. (i just knowww he hates littering students with every fibre of his being. catches them in the act and reaches for his gun out of old habit LMAO) and there’s this nerdy little professor who always arrives at the uni first thing in the morning, without fail, and always gives toji a cheery little greeting when he does. wearing his cozy sweaters and vests and scarves and smiling all bright and sleepy. and for some reason he almost always takes his coffee breaks conveniently close to wherever toji is cleaning… so they can chat a bit….. even though toji usually just listens and grunts every now and then.

and at first toji feels kinda Threatened by this pretty boy bc ???? whyyyy is he interrupting my precious cleaning time. is he trying to supervise me? show off his fancy degrees??? …. reader has the fattest crush on him but toji genuinely doesn’t realize bc he’s wired to always mistrust others :// meanwhile reader is watching him clean internally going what the fuck what the fuckkk why is he wearing a compression shirt it’s literally fucking freezing??? is he teasing me???? does he know?????? they’re both losers actually. big romcom vibes

BUT YEAH i just picture professor!reader being a sleepy but cheery little guy….. who loves loves loves teaching and talking about his subject of choice and toji starts to really enjoy their talks bc reader’s eyes shine soooo brightly when he’s chattering away… all excited and gleaming….. and toji kinda hates teachers but he decides to make an exception this once. maybe starts to initiate conversations of his own every now and then… who knows…………….

OK THAT’S ALL PDHJDDHJF 😭😭 this came to me in a vision and ofc i had to share…. imagine me at a board meeting pointing at my little graphs and powerpoints while u sit in a big ceo chair overlooking the city… pondering janitor!toji and the future of this company…... mickey ur posts genuinely make me fully insane i hope u know that. bi!toji is real and loves you specifically btw <333333 I HOPE U HAVE A LOVELY DAY MWAH :3

ARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII I NEED TO KISS U RN!!!

LIKE THIS ISN'T OKAY BY ANY MEANS HOW DID YOU COOK THIS UP AND WHY IS IT LITERALLY PERFECT AND ALSO HOW IS IT SO IN LINE WITH WHAT I HAD IN MY HEAD?????????????? HOW???????

OKAY FIRST OF ALL WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT PROFESSOR!READER KIND OF BEING LIKE TAKEDA FROM HAIKYUUUU??????????????? LIKE THAT'S IMMEDIATELY HOW HE POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND NOW I CAN'T STOP IMAGINING HIM LIKE THAT I ALS OCAN'T TAKE OFF THE CAPS LOCK BC I'M GENUINELY SO INVESTED IN THIS FUCKING AU IT'S INSANE

but yeah he's always wearing the comfiest fits just like u said - sweaters, vests, a button-up shirt and a colorful tie sometimes (he was super nervous about wearing the tie at first bc he thought he'd look stupid but he got over it and now he has a rule of wearing a tie at least once a week)(canon). when it's cold he's wearing an oversized coat and an equally big scarf and toji thinks it's very cute i mean what who said that.

another thing just popped into my head when u called him a sleepy guy..... what if it's already like afternoon and all of the students are gone and the professor was supposed to be grading their papers or smth but when toji happens to walk by his class he's just sleeping on the table............... PLSSSS I THINK IT'S SO CUTEE i can see it so clearly in my head the professor's glasses are really weirdly on his face and his mouth is open with a bit of drool spilling out lmao and at first toji just shakes his head like damn this guy is stupid but then he realizes that he's smiling? that his own lips just curved into a small smile all on their own and he's kinda freaked out about it and leaves really fast hasgahsaghshgagsha HE'S A LITTLE AWKWARD SOMETIMES OKAY even big scary teddy bears have their little love moments yk

my immediate thought was that toji would actually be the one to develop the crush first btw................ and he'd be a little like ???? maybe this is his first real male crush? and the reader is just kind of oblivious to it like he thinks that yk toji seems like the straighest guy on the first glance lmao and he thinks that he doesn't have a chance but hehehehehe he's very wrong IDK WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT i wanna know

DON'T GET ME WRONG THOUGH I DO REALLYREALLY LIKE the reader kind of thirsting over him hihihihihi he's so real for that AND I LOVE THE IDEA OF TOJI EVENTUALLY STARTING MORE CONVOS!!!!!! FUCK OFFF HE'S SOO SWEET AAAAAAAAA i love him so much have i said that already

who do you think would take the step to go further though? IN YOUR SCENARIO I MEAN it would obviously take time. a lot of it. bc toji is well... like he is and the professor is nervous and he's kind of afraid to overstep even though he likes him sooooo much... okay i kinda feel like toji would....... and it almost makes the poor professor have a heart attack bc WHAT? hihihihiihi stoppppppppppppp i can see them both in my head soooo clearly and i'm so fucking in love with them they're so cute aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

also got this idea of the professor breaking smth in his class idk like he sits on the chair and one of the legs breaks or smth lmao and he goes on a lookout for smth to fix it with (??????) and he finds toji!!!! and he comes to his rescue, teasing the professor a little bc how the hell did he break the chair you know. and maybe he professor blushes a little..................... IT'S TOJI C'MON EVERYBODY WOULD BLUSH A LITTTLE and then maybe the professor brings him a pastry or something the next day as a thank you and now it's toji who's..... cheeks are looking a little pink?????? and he's grumbling that it's my job. no need to thank me. but the professor just dismissed that immediately and just presses the pastry into his hands and waves him goodbye with a smile. AAAAAAAAAAAH I CAN'TTTT I'M SMILING SO BIG RN MY CHEEKS HURT WHAT IN THE FUCK THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

ARI. MY SWEETEST LITTLE ANGEL. CAN I USE THIS IN THE DRABBLE I STARTED? LIKE I'M GONNA LINK THIS IN THERE TOO. i just started the drabble based on one of the asks i got - toji just smiling while he's listening to his little bf ramble about his day but i'd love to sprinkle this in there. like maybe he taught a class on smth he really likes so he's just so excited about it. excited that the students were loving the topic or whatever. BUT I DO NEED YOUR PERMISSIONN!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME YOU ALWAYS DO I'M SOOOO GRATEFUL FOR YOUUUUUUUUUU<33333 i can't believe you just cooked it up are you actually gordon ramsay btw? i know you are don't lie to me ari. BI!TOJI LOVES US BOTH THAT'S WHY HIS TITS ARE SO BIG HE'S STORING HIS LOVE FOR US IN THERE!!!!!!!!!!! I HOPE YOU HAD A REALLY REALLLY GOOD DAY MY LOVE MWAH MWAH MWAH<333333333

#WAIT ALSO HAHAHAHAHHA HE WOULD 10000000% HATE WHEN THE KIDS THROW TRASH ON THE GROUND #100000000000000% IT MAKES HIM SO ANGRY LMAO #SO FUNNY #yk the scene where his boat loses when he's talking with shiu and he does the little “tch!” hihhihihhi #this is what he's doing every time he sees somebody throw smth on the ground #PLSSSSSSSS IF U HAVE MORE THOUGHTS PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TELL ME #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE #this au feels very close to my heart #makes me feel very warm #very important #sighhhhhhhhhhh #thank u #love u #ari <3 #mickey can't stop thinking #toji #friends!!

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fumblingmusings · 7 months

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give us some Francex Spain headcanons please

This is so long and unorganised, apologies. TL;DR - Francis is lucky Antonio is so placid, because the moments he bites back genuinely frighten him, but the status quo of him sitting neatly on top of Spain always seems to swing back around. Again, Francis is lucky Toni's life ambition is to own a cafe...

For proper context - I imagine Antonio as Castille first, then comes to represent Spain as a whole, though I imagine there will be representations of Galicia, Catalonia/Aragon etc. just like there's the regions of Japan or Picardy for France or indeed how Arthur represents the UK internationally, but of course his brothers are still very much around. So, just for why I think Francis and Antonio have a relationship which goes way back.

Francis and Antonio I imagine as a sin/cos curve... like when Francis is up high, above Toni, things are 'correct' and in their natural place. They're friendly as Antonio is such a mild mannered friendly kid he's quite content to sit and listen to Francis crow about his amazing Kings and fancy court and so on. Francis loves to brag about how it's him that's the true heir to Rome, not the Germans. Spain nods, thinking about other more important things back home.

France used Spain very much as a bulwark against the al-Andalus parts of the Iberian Peninsula - as Francis at the time of Charlemagne and thereafter loved to see himself as the saviour of Europe, so as time goes by and we zip by the occasional Castille/France team up versus England/Portugal you start to get an increasingly influential Spain by the late 15th century, and the trouble is... Toni wants the same thing as Francis. And oddly enough, he's better at getting what he wants, despite seemingly not really trying. Maybe because he is honest to goodness just a little bit less... smug? But sometimes reading Spanish history in the 1500s is going like: Oh. Well that was convenient. It's not the reality of course, but it must have been very frustrating.

Antonio also dislikes the same things as Francis. So it's interesting. When they're fighting my God do they go at it. When they're on the same side their a pretty solid duo. But I love the idea of Antonio just pissing Francis off at times, and like... sometimes just by vibing. The man's vibes are zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. And Francis - depending on his ego that day - finds it rancid. I know a lot of people don't like the way Antonio is characterised, but I love him as he is so shh. He's so disconnected at times from the reality going on around him. Only his immediate circle matters. He doesn't seem to really understand his Civil War. I think compared to Francis, who is much more in tune with his people... it gets messy.

The trouble comes because Francis is jealous, and likes his standing as number one in Europe. No-one can challenge that. But Antonio does, for a good century or even two, and maybe Antonio doesn't necessarily mean to, but his King and Queens do, or maybe Antonio finds that ambition suits him. The 15th through to mid 17th century gives him the ability to out class Francis. Maybe it's not intentional at first, but once Antonio finally grasps what he may be about to lose during the Thirty Years War and then the failing of his line of the Habsburgs... the ugliness comes out full force.

But... Like to show the overlap once Spain starts to really assert themselves in the late 15th Century, and how truly infuriated Francis must have been at points. They both have a vested interest in Italy - Antonio wins that one. Francis has a stake in Barcelona - Antonio wins that one. They both want the Low Countries. Antonio wins that one. Antonio gets Holy Roman Empire. And the actual creme de la creme... Antonio has divided the world in two with that blooming Treaty of Tordesillas. And the Pope was the one to approve that one. The Pope! The guy who says France is the most important nation for Christianity in Europe (save HRE but... oh look Spain is now Holy Roman Emperor too Jesus Christ).

Needless to say, Francis feels the universe is conspiring against him. God's not still mad about that Avignon Pope... is he?

So Francis is forever looking for ways to kick Antonio in the shins - to go back to him being the main guy in Europe, the guy who wants it and works for it and you know Francis more than anything wants to admired. Antonio... oh. Not sure what he wants more than anything really. A peaceful life. Which he did not get to have for most of his existence really. Arthur and Sadık are handy for Francis to use from time to time to deal a smack to Antonio, but otherwise it's him looking at this guy who - let's be generous - is not the most ambitious man going, who seems to just grow more and more powerful, more and more influential and it eaaaaaaaaats at Francis.

But you know. Habsburgs. Religion. War. Antonio finally understands what he stands to loose, and ah. There's the ambition and drive. But he still looses, and now there's a Bourbon in charge and he is unable to ever fully get back up to that the ascent that the Trastámaras started. Pacte de Famille pops up again and again in the 18th Century, and I like the idea of it being characterised as Francis using Antonio's love of the Italies, and the fact that Arthur is increasingly a pain in the fucking arse for the both of them. Again, both Francis and Antonio love the same things. They also hate the same things. Sometimes that thing is a god awful English dude and sometimes love and hate are indistinguishable.

Like, Francis can loathe Arthur at points, but at least Arthur works to be a pain in the arse. Toni... wants to own a cafe. And he isn't even that good at it.

#this is so unorganised and i didn't talk about anything post 1800 but you get the point #early modern french-spanish relations is a yo yo and i love it #hetalia #hws spain #hws france #headcanon #op #q&a #historical hetalia

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callsign-bunnie · 1 year

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Could we please get more of Ale the wolf?? I love that little guy!

Yes! He is best boy

He is about as big as a domestic wolf can get

He's domestic so he literally cannot live without Rodolfo, which is the stated reason for why Alejandro lets him stay

He can knock down about everyone but Ghost

Ghost and him get along no problem, though Rodolfo is still his favorite

Ghost regularly jokes, when he visits Las Almas, that he's there to see his best friend and then will actively shove Alejandro the human out of the way for Ale the wolf

Alejandro is called Alejandro the human, now, and he HATES IT

Funnily enough, Rodolfo is a cat person and Alejandro is the dog person. Ale has forgiven Rodolfo for this opinion

Soap does not like Ale because he is, in fact, a wolf which is just a large dog. Ale doesn't like him either, so it's fine

He has his own Instagram account, which Ghost and Gaz both run

Valeria also does not get along with Ale because he's protective of Rudy. She calls him dumb dog and he responds with loud growls. He has eaten several pairs of sunglasses

Rodolfo isn't a super lenient owner, he does not tolerate Ale's mischief a lot of the time. However, Alejandro the human gets scolded, frequently, for beefing with a fucking wolf

However, Ale the wolf will follow Alejandro the human around if Rodolfo is unavailable. But, he'll act like it's a coincidence he's in the same room as Alejandro

Alejandro begrudgingly feeds him

Ale the wolf has saved Alejandro's life a few times but it was very reluctantly

Alejandro the human has done likewise so he can't exactly be mad about it

Graves tried to get along with Ale the wolf but Ale immediately bit him

Price and Ale the wolf nap together, frequently.

Gaz has taught him several tricks. He can roll over, lay down, and do a bunch of other stuff. Gaz was very proud of himself for teaching him these things. (Rodolfo decided not to mention that he already knew how to do those things, he just wanted treats)

People are constantly commenting on Rodolfo having such a big fucking wolf around him constantly

He has his own little dog military vest with "PUP Ale" on it

He can sniff for drugs, but really his best ability is attacking threats

He is best boy

#ale the wolf cod oc #cod oc #ocs #call of duty #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod

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midnightmah07 · 4 months

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𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 ✨ Beauty and the Beast AU! Leobelle (a/n: did ya miss me in the inbox? hehe😙 addieyouarenext)

Glancing over his own reflex, the mirror had an issue to judge Leona, by making him stare down his face over the piece of metal. He was hideous; A beast, in fact. Even so, he doesn’t understand how he has gotten so far, specially with a pretty… No, more than that. Specially with a perfect girl like Isabelle. She was his last shot to lift up the curse, his last chance to learn how to love, his last hope to be able to be the better version of himself… Yes, all of that laid upon a girl who barged in for her father, who took no steps back, who somehow managed to see over his fur.

The clock didn’t stopped, a petal fell, and that’s how Leona grows more desperate. She has to be able to help him. He can only pray she is the one. The curse laid upon the prince was the weight of his shoulders, a reason of why he was so scared to face a modest woman like Isabelle. But what is that curse? You may ask, well, this story takes place before the winter took place as a snowstorm.

Leona, you see, he was a selfish and arrogant person that was able to sit up a throne and wear a pride of a crown. When his brother passed away, Leona was taken in with greediness for power and hunger for superficial things; beauty, is the best example of it.

On top of that, one night, the prince had invited the most beautiful women on the region, in a look for a wife, his eyes travel down the crowd; but only to look away, as soon as he hears the gates opening. Revealing a old lady, crawling into the castle with cold trembling hands… For her stay, she offered a simple rose. A symbol of sympathy as Leona would shelter her from the storm. Yet instead, the same laughed at her face, denying her stay. Except, that she warned him, he shouldn’t just take others by appearance. The green coat falls off to reveal a beautiful woman, long blonde hair and lustrous long green dress. As punishment, she puts on the Prince, a curse. The same, could only go back to normal, if learned how to love and not be deceived by appearances. If he did not learnt until the last petal falls, he would be a beast for eternity.

As years passed and went by, Leona lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? He wonders that everytime out loud, but instead of being able to rethink the same thought he hears a knock on the door.

“Master, she is ready.” The chandelier; Ruggie, announces Isabelle waiting for Leona.

“I do not ca…” He takes a deep breath. “I will be down in a minute.”

The change of humor sure caught Ruggie’s attention. But both of them were pretty aware of who caused it.

Leona steps down the stairs covered in the clean red carpet with his blue suit and yellow vest, his fur was in a small ponytail, as he gently walked down the stairs, until he stops his tracks looking up to Isabelle. The time freezes, at least that his excuse. Her hair i half down and half pull up in a bun, long ballroom dress on the same shades of the long gloves that is a bright yellow and to mix all up the beautiful golden trails of drawings of roses on Isabelle’s dress. She looks up to him with a soft smile. Because, she. She can learn how to love a beast… Isabelle can learn how to love him.

And that, the lady in green; Adeline. Could see it clearly. The black shadow standing next to her shows up in the moonlight standing on her side.

“So?”

“Not yet, Malleus. Let him say the three little words to each other.” Adeline gives a small smile. Watching the both of them twirling and swinging together around the ballroom.

“If that depends on you he will remain a beast forever…”

“Malleus!”

Adeline gasps crossing her arms over her chest offended by his words, that weren’t a full lie, but still… He could be more sensible about it.

Back to Leona and Isabelle, she lays her head on his chest, making a sparkle feeling on his chest. The tale is old as time, the song is just as old as rhyme, but it all remains the same story, with different people. Beauty and the beast, once again reunited by faith or destiny of some kind, forever meant to be together as the sun will rise. It begins all with just a little change, both of them scared, neither one prepared, but the beauty and the beast will always encounter each other, in every universe, in every life.

WHAT IS THIS. WHAT. I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS. SKSJIEJEISJSJS THEY'RE SO???? THEM??? THEY?????? THEM????? LEOBELLE MY BELOVEDS MY BABIES MY EKDJEKSJOEJDKSNSKDNSKJS AHHHHHHH

THIS IS SO GOOD IM SOBBING IM CRYING IM THROWING UP THEY'RE SOOOOOO IN LOVE IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY INSANE

I LOVE. HOW U INCLUDED MALLINE HERE TOO. ALSO RUGGIE AS A CHANDELIER MADE ME LAUGH NGL BUT I LOVE IT😭😭😭😭 THIS IS ALL PERFECT NOW!!! KISS!!!!!!!

#💙! mah's answers #💙! barbs<3 #💙! Barbs's writting!

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themidnightghoul · 3 months

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Spicy Bubbles

The wonderful @jesusbutbetterrr (along with a few other lovely humans!) has created Ghoulette Appreciation Weeks 2024 to show some love to the amazing Ghoulettes. I’m using this opportunity to work on my Ghoul OC, Midnight! They will be interacting with both the Ghouls and Ghoulettes during these stories and I can’t wait to expand on Midnight’s story some more and share her with you 🖤

Week 3: First Ritual

Rating: Anxious Ghoul ahead but it’s fine she’s fine Word Count: 1370 CW: Mention of puking

Read on AO3 or below!

Weeks of practice with the others. Hours upon hours of working on her own in her room with her noise canceling headphones and backing tracks. It had all led up to this moment: Midnight’s first Ritual. The rest of the pack had been hyping her up, so excited to see how she did during her first performance in front of an audience, and even she was through the roof on the way to the venue. She struggled to fall asleep at a decent hour, still running through the music in her head and how she thought things would go.

Now, she was in the dressing room with the other Ghoulettes letting them fuss over her and help her buckle up her vest, make sure the ties on her pants were secured, helping her set her violin up on her shoulder and making sure her helmet didn’t interfere with her playing. Where she was jittery and excited before, now she was quiet, her stomach in knots.

“You’re going to do fantastic, sweetheart.” Cumulus hugged her gently, well aware of pre-Ritual nerves and how they could get the best of any of them, but especially Midnight right now.

Aurora, who was kneeling down to make sure Midnight’s boots were fitting properly, looked up as she tapped her calf twice. “It’s gonna be great, Stardust, I promise.”

Cirrus, ever the mother figure, held up a glass of ginger ale with a bendy straw to Midnight’s lips. “Drink a little of this, yeah? It’ll help settle your tummy. And remember, we’re all out there with you. We won’t let you fall.”

Midnight sipped the ginger ale, making a face at the weird tingly feeling in her mouth, which made them all laugh. “And how is that supposed to make me feel better when it made my mouth feel like it was full of spicy bubbles?”

The other Ghoulettes just laughed harder, with Cumulus rubbing Midnight’s stomach gently and Aurora hugging her arm as she stood up. Cirrus encouraged her to drink at least another sip of it, claiming the ginger was supposed to help settle an upset stomach, and reassuring her that the “spicy bubbles” were just something called carbonation.

“Man, I can’t wait for her to try alcohol.” Aurora giggled, skipping off to grab her helmet and settling it on her head.

“One big hurdle at a time, Rory,” Cirrus sighed, shaking her head. “You ready, Middy?”

Cirrus and Cumulus were on either side of Midnight, each holding a hand, and Aurora was skipping just ahead, as they all walked to meet with the others for Papa’s pre-Ritual prayer. They gathered with the other Ghouls, everyone briefly fawning over Midnight in her full uniform. She was thankful her face was hidden when she noticed Swiss and Rain eyeing her up and down, Swiss elbowing Rain a few times and whispering something to him that Midnight couldn’t hear. Couldn’t have been anything important, right?

As she huddled together with the pack, listening to Papa’s prayer, she found her mind wandering. Midnight’s introduction to the band was to be a surprise, which made her all the more nervous. What if she did fall? What if she missed a queue? Hit a wrong note? Or even just forgot how to play entirely? Her stomach started to bubble like the drink she had and she felt wobbly, reaching a hand out to a random road case to brace herself on. She pulled down her balaclava to breathe, bending over slightly, which ended up being a mistake.

Without missing a beat, Dew swooped a trash can in front of her just as she emptied the contents of her stomach (which, admittedly, wasn’t much) into it. He rubbed his hand along her back gently as the others made a protective circle around her so she could pull off her helmet for a moment.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, just let it all out,” Dew was whispering next to her. Midnight was crying at this point, feeling like a failure already for letting her nerves get the best of her, and Dew was brushing away her tears as they fell.

“I h-hate whatever this is,” Midnight sobbed as her stomach roiled once again, but nothing came out. “M-my violin…” she tried to ask Dew to move her violin so she didn’t puke on it but he was already unclasping it and handing it and her bow to Phantom.

Rain had quickly wandered off to grab a bottle of water and had returned with it opened, a bendy straw stuck into it, and held it up to Midnight’s lips. “Drink, Sparkle. Slowly.” His free hand rubbed up and down her arm and she could tell he was trying not to crowd her but all she wanted was to crawl into his lap and stop feeling so awful.

“Five minutes to curtain, everyone,” a stage hand called out and the entire pack instantly tightened their circle and scared off the human, their instincts kicking in to protect their pack mate. They all knew it would be hard for her to hold her glamour for the duration of the Ritual, so they told her not to worry about it. But with her helmet off, her Ghoulish features were visible, even through her balaclava, so they were extra protective of her at the moment. Midnight noticed, of course, and felt a new wave of tears pour from her eyes at everyone not hesitating to protect her.

“You gonna be okay, Sparkle?” Rain was crouched next to Midnight as she was kneeling over the trash can on the off chance she felt the urge to puke up the water she had consumed. “It’s okay if you can’t, no one will be disappointed in you,” he whispered.

Midnight shook her head. “No, I’m okay, I want to do this.” She stood, slowly at the insistence of Rain, and took another sip of water. “I’m not going to let you down.” Did she mean him? Papa? The pack? Surely all of them, but all she could think of at the moment was how she didn’t want to disappoint Rain. Then she remembered how Phantom had been so excited to see her play. How Aurora had helped her customize her violin. How they were all so supportive and loving ever since she had been Summoned. She couldn’t help but start to cry all over again, now for an entirely different reason.

The entire pack moved in closer and hugged Midnight, reassuring her that she could never let them down in any way and that they all loved her very much. Phantom handed her violin back and helped her clip it back into place and as she was getting settled, placed their hand on her stomach and pushed a little Quintessence into it to help calm her nerves. Midnight slipped her helmet back on and bonked Phantom’s in thanks and in reassurance that she was feeling better.

As everyone made their way out on to the stage to get into their positions, Rain kept hold of Midnight’s hand the entire time. They had decided she would be free to move around the stage just like he did to interact with the other Ghouls, but that she would start on Swiss’ side and Rain would start on Dew’s side. As he led her into place and made sure she was ready, she felt her stomach almost fluttering like it was full of the spicy bubbles again. But it wasn’t nerves it was…something else? Rain went to walk away and let go of her hand but before he could, she squeezed his and he stopped and turned around, tilting his head.

“Everything okay, Sparkle?” He squeezed her hand back twice.

Midnight nodded, squeezing his hand again. “I just…thank you, Rain.”

He pulled her hand up and kissed it before squeezing it twice once more and walking to his spot, leaving Midnight standing there with spicy bubbles in her stomach and a smile that was thankfully hidden under her balaclava. As everyone got into their places and the lights went dark, Midnight shut everything else out except for one thought: Rain had kissed her hand.

Her performance that night was the best she had ever played.

#midnight writes #ghoulette appreciation weeks #ghoulette appreciation #support your local ghoulettes #midnight ghoul #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #aurora ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic

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skymaiden32 · 7 months

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Grave Danger

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to be alerted when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 17: Danger

The brothers stage a rescue mission for one of their own in a graveyard.

Continuity: TOS

A/n: Officially over half-way! Let's go!

------

One moment, their brother was standing right in front of them. The next, he was falling through the Earth, separating them. Holding his breath, Virgil listened as Scott called out to their little brother, both of them hoping, praying, that they would get an answer. “Alan! Are you alright?!”

They waited with baited breath, sighing in relief when they heard him groan and call back in turn. “I’m okay! A little sore, but I’m okay…”

“Okay!” Virgil yelled back. “We’ll get you out in no time; just hang tight!”

Pulling back from the gaping hole in front of them, the two brothers looked around the area they were in. Not that they needed to; they already knew exactly where they were. A graveyard. The same graveyard, in fact, where their mother and grandfather were buried. They had come to pay their respects, to simply lay flowers on the graves, say a few words, and then go. Some idea that turned out to be.

Scott carefully examined the chasm Alan had disappeared into, frowning when he saw little pieces of soil and grass slide towards the centre. He whipped his head round to Virgil, who immediately noticed the urgency on his face. “We don’t have time to find any of the staff and call them here to get him out. If we’re going to rescue our brother, it has to be now.” He gestured towards the crumbling edges in front of them.

Virgil’s eyes widened. His brother was right, of course. But… “How?” He asked, keeping his voice low so that Alan wouldn’t hear and start panicking. “We don’t have any equipment!” He pointed at their regular civilian clothes; Scott’s preferred blue shirt and jacket and his own favourite green shirt and brown vest combo.

“Hopefully, he’s not too far down.” Scott reassured him. Perhaps he was saying it to calm himself down as well. “But he’s definitely far enough that he’d get buried alive if we don’t act fast.” He shrugged his jacket off, tearing the sleeves off and tying the whole thing together to create a makeshift rope.

Virgil looked on in horror. “Isn’t that your favourite outfit?” His brother just gave him a look in response, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t need to do anything more for Virgil to understand. “Right, sorry.” He took off his own vest. “Anything for Alan.”

Scott hummed. “We might not even need yours. Depends how far down the hole goes…” Carefully, he leaned over said hole, hoping to catch Alan’s attention. He could just see the blond top of his little brother’s head, obscured by a few mounds of dirt. “Al! I’m going to throw something down. Let me know if you can’t reach it!” With that, he chucked the tattered jacket over the edge, hoping that this was all it took to save Alan from the hole.

Virgil watched on worriedly. “I hope he can reach it…” He looked at the falling dirt again. It was sliding down a lot quicker now, and in much larger chunks. Time was running out…

“Yeah.” Scott breathed out. “Me too.”

Little muffled grunts came up towards them as Alan reached for the sleeve. “Can you get it a little bit lower, Scott?” Their brother asked, breathing heavily.

In response, Scott lay flat on the ground, lowering his arm into the hole as low as he could. “How’s that?” He asked again.

More jumping noises were all they heard from Alan for a good few seconds. The edges crumbled further… “I’ve got it!” Alan yelled up to them.

“Right! Hold tight!” Scott instructed, getting ready to pull him out. Without saying anything, Virgil leaned over the edge on his stomach as well, grabbing hold of his older brother's arm to stabilise him and stop him from potentially going over as well. Scott smiled gratefully at Virgil, who grinned right back. “Okay! It’s now or never! Three!” The cascade of dirt began. “Two!” It trickled like a water fountain. “One!” Scott and Virgil both tugged hard, as the mud and grass turned from a stream into a raging river.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, even though it was barely a couple of seconds. Alan was soon free of his temporary prison, shaking from the adrenaline rush and being held protectively between two big brothers. The trio stepped back and watched as the ground collapsed in on itself and filled up again with dirt.

When all was said and done, the three Tracy’s were left breathing heavily in an uneasy silence. None of them dared to speak; to break the spell that seemed to have been cast. Alan buried his face into the crook of Scott’s shoulder, the gravity of the situation finally hitting him in full. He could have died here, in the same place their mother and grandfather were. “Thank you…” He breathed out, looking up at his brothers.

“Anything for you, little brother.” Virgil answered. They stood there for just a little bit longer before Alan’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh no!” He waved his arms around. “Scott, your jacket!” His eldest brother's non-committed shrug did nothing to soothe his worries.

“It’s just a jacket, Al. Like Virgil said, anything for you.” He smiled warmly at his brother. “Besides, I’ve got a spare.”

Alan sighed in relief. “Of course you do…”

“Oh my!” The additional fourth voice caught the three brothers off guard. They all spun around, coming face to face with the same staff member that had greeted them. He looked down at the dangerous dip in the ground, and potential lawsuit, and did his best to do damage control. As if that would do anything to sway the three Tracy’s. “I can never apologise enough for what’s just happened!” The brothers looked at him, each of them furious. “Please don’t sue us…” He looked pleadingly between them, eyes falling on Scott, knowing he was the eldest of the trio.

Scott frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m afraid it’s out of my hands.” He hid his smirk. “I’m not the one who fell down a hole in a graveyard…” He waved a hand towards Alan.

“What’ll it be, brother dearest?” Virgil leaned in, an almost devious grin on his face.

Alan narrowed his eyes, fixing the worker with a hard stare, before smiling. “Nothing! I’m alive. It’s the only thing that matters to me.” The worker breathed a sigh of relief. Scott and Virgil watched on in pride. Their kid brother really had grown up. “Our father might have something to say about it though!” The worker gulped again.

#thunderfam #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #sky writes stuff #thundertober #thundertober 2023

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ahaura · 4 months

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(Dec. 29) [Article] by Afnan Abu Yahia & Lila Hassan

Title & subtitle:

The Impossibility of Reporting the Story of Gaza: The work of Gaza’s journalists has been essential these past months, but as the challenges of reporting continue to mount, the world is getting only a fraction of the story.

Article text:

Samer Abu Daqqa loved being a journalist. A cameraman for over 20 years with Al Jazeera, Abu Daqqa, 45, had covered at least seven wars. Israel’s war on Gaza, however, would turn out to be his last.

While covering an air strike at a United Nations–run school on December 15, Israeli forces shot Abu Daqqa. Intense shelling prevented an ambulance from reaching him—three paramedics were killed trying to get to the area—and he was left to bleed for over five hours, succumbing to his injuries just as the Palestinian Health Ministry got approval from the Israeli military to retrieve him. In the end, they brought his body to the hospital, where his family said goodbye. Medical workers removed his bloodied press vest and helmet, which were placed over his body at his funeral.

Since the beginning of Israel’s war on Gaza, which has now killed more than 20,000 Palestinians, journalists have been on the front lines, both as witnesses and victims. For more than two months, as Israel has rained bombs on Gaza, they have rushed from refugee camps to hospitals, and from hospitals to schools and back, trying to stay safe while covering what they describe as their own genocide. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, 68 journalists have been killed in Gaza, Israel, and Lebanon since October 7, making this the deadliest conflict since the CPJ began tallying press fatalities. The International Federation of Journalists estimates that at least 66 journalists have been killed in Gaza alone. Many have also lost their families. On October 26, Ahmed Abu Artema, a contributor to The Nation as well as a poet and activist, was seriously injured and lost his young son when Israel bombed his father’s house.

“What is happening now is unprecedented,” said Sherif Mansour, the Middle East and North Africa program coordinator at the CPJ. In 2022, the CPJ reported that a total of 68 journalists and media workers were killed worldwide; Gaza reached that number in just over two months.

Journalists, said Mansour, “are the ones on the front lines and they are the ones we need the most, but they are also the most vulnerable.”

It’s hard to overestimate the importance of the Palestinian journalists in Gaza right now. They, after all, are the only ones who have been reporting from the Strip since Israel instituted a total siege on October 9 and banned foreign press from entering. Their work has been essential and their commitment unceasing; yet, as the weeks have passed, the mounting challenges of reporting have meant that the world outside of Gaza is getting only a fraction of the story. Even social media has offered only a partial solution, as many of the platforms regularly censor Palestinian voices.

By far, the biggest challenge for journalists is simply staying alive. The struggle to survive while reporting is an all-consuming endeavor. But this struggle has been seriously compounded both by the conditions of war and the shattering effects of Israel’s total siege of the Strip. Food and water are scarce; fuel is dwindling, electricity inconsistent, and cell phone service undependable; many journalists no longer even have homes to return to.

For journalists, this has meant everything from reporting on empty stomachs to writing up stories while worrying about when and how they will find water. One journalist has used Gaza’s salty seawater to bathe, and another said he shared half a liter of clean water for four days with colleagues. Meanwhile, it has become normal to wait for food in hours-long lines and still not manage to buy anything, said Nazar Sadawi, a correspondent with Turkish Radio and Television. “I don’t have the luxury of time. I don’t have 10 hours to wait for my turn,” he said, explaining that instead he lives mostly off of bread, tea, and biscuits. “Aid trucks bring in canned beans, water, and some medicine, but it doesn’t even meet 5 percent of the need. We can literally reach a famine.”

Sadawi left the north for the south after Israel issued an evacuation warning on October 11 to the entirety of north Gaza’s 1.1 million people. “You can call me homeless” or a “displaced person,” he said. The neighborhood around his home has since been bombed, and his parents’ house as well as his car have been destroyed in Israeli air strikes. With whole buildings either completely or partially destroyed, finding anywhere with a bed or couch is near impossible. Sadawi is lucky to get two to three hours of sleep, he said, usually on a hospital chair on the sidewalk, and without a blanket. “I don’t have clothes. I left those at home,” he said. The hospital is also where he showers and uses the restroom, which also requires waiting in hours-long lines.

Meanwhile, Sadawi said, the frequent shutdowns of Internet and cellular service have meant that reporting has reverted to old-school methods—trekking from area to area over debris and destroyed roads, surveying survivors and witnesses for casualty numbers, and listening to the radio for context and conditions. “The news that I used to get in three minutes I now get in an hour or two,” he said.

Before Gaza lost consistent access to the Internet and cellular service, journalists used to call each other to swap information. But now, “I call the people who are covering air strikes 20 times for the line just to connect, and just so I can check on if they’re still alive,” he said. Satellite phones could solve this, but Sadawi said it’s impossible to obtain one now given the blockade. “Only five journalists probably have them, and they got them before the war,” he said. Often, Sadawi has to pick between calling his family or the woman he loves. “She lives somewhere I can’t reach.”

Journalists no longer keep regular working hours. Because Israel has stopped “roof knocking”—alerting people when an air strike is incoming—journalists cover the aftermath at all times of the day, but they are eager to be sheltered by sunset (around 5 pm), because shelling is strongest in pitch-black conditions. And because the bombardment is constant, the noise, as well as nightmares make it hard to sleep—something both interviews and a survey of journalists’ social media posts show.

This, along with the trauma of lost loved ones, lost homes, constant fear, and the relentless sight of death, is wreaking havoc on journalists’ future mental health, said Ghazi Aloul, a Roya News correspondent. Aloul, who has spent only six hours at home since November, is living in the same areas he is covering, relying on hospitals for rest and charging his equipment. “I have experienced many painful moments in this war,” Aloul said. “Previous wars were not this brutal.”

Within this landscape of brutality, “the most sensitive scenes for me to see are children bleeding and injured, because immediately I think of my little 2-and-a-half-year-old girl,” he said. Still, he keeps working. “I try to stay firm and convey my work, photographs, and the truth, because my daughter could be among the dead, and I would need someone to convey her voice and image,” he added.

Aloul says that he himself is not afraid to die. ”If that’s my destiny, then so be it,” he said. But he cannot bear the idea of losing his loved ones. “Experiencing loss is extremely painful and unbearable, and that’s what I can’t get out of my head.”

As the stories of murdered journalists have mounted, many in Gaza have come to suspect that Israel is deliberately targeting the press. This fear became particularly acute after an Israeli air strike hit and killed the place where the family of Aljazeera’s Gaza bureau chief, Wael Aldahdouh, was sheltering. “They are taking revenge on us through our children,” he said, sitting next to his dead son’s body. On December 15, Aldahdouh was shot in the arm while reporting on an air strike on Haifa School in Khan Younis; it was during the same reporting trip that Abu Duqqa was shot and killed.

Israel’s military has repeatedly denied that it targets journalists. “The IDF takes all operationally feasible measures to protect both civilians and journalists. The IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists,” a spokesperson told The Nation. “Given the ongoing exchanges of fire, remaining in an active combat zone has inherent risks. The IDF will continue to counter threats while persisting to mitigate harm to civilians.”

Yet the IDF’s actions have continued to raise questions for journalists, as have statements from the Israeli press. Hours after the strike that killed Aldahdou’s family, Avi Yehekli, of Israel’s Channel 13, said, “Generally, we know the target. Like today, there was a target on the family of an Aljazeera journalist.”

Meanwhile, as fear of being targeted by an Israeli air strike has grown, The Nation found that several journalists have pleaded with others in their profession not to add a location to their social-media posts. Aseel Moussa, a correspondent in Gaza with Middle East Eye, believes that Israel will continue to kill journalists because it has never been held accountable in the past. (From 2000 to 2022, Israel killed 55 Palestinian journalists, according to the Palestinian News Agency. Last year, Israel admitted, after several months of denials, that it was responsible for shooting and killing Palestinian-American Shireen Abu Akleh.)

“There is nowhere safe in Gaza for anyone of any profession,” said Moussa, who evacuated eastern Gaza for the south last month only to be met with more bombing. Two days before our interview, Moussa said, her relatives’ home was hit, killing nine family members. Seven were children.

Compounding all of these horrors is the painful reality that, even when journalists do manage to report, their stories can have limited reach. For years, digital rights groups and tech watchdogs have claimed that Meta censors content related to Palestine and that it also monitors Arabic content more excessively than it does Hebrew content. Last week, Human Rights Watch found that Meta systematically censors Palestinian content around the world.

This kind of shadow banning, as it is called, stymies the world’s access to content coming out of Gaza. Motaz Azaiza, a photojournalist who has gained a global following of over 17 million followers on Instagram and was named GQ Middle East’s Man of the Year, shared screenshots from Meta indicating that he’d violated Instagram’s community guidelines for posting images; he also shared notifications alerting him that some of his content had been taken down. Meta has not responded to multiple requests for comment.

Still, despite the mounting threats and dangers, what matters to Middle East Eye’s Moussa most is his work. “When I can’t publish my articles or cover the stories around me, that’s when my feelings of helplessness deepen,” he said.

And so, journalists keep reporting, knowing that it might lead to their death. In the last month, several journalists have written their own anticipated obituaries online, sharing their last words, and predicting their own deaths. Roshdi Sarraj, an admired journalist whom Moussa described as “at the top of the field,” was one of them. In one of his last personal posts, Sarraj wrote on Facebook: “We will not leave. And when we do leave Gaza, we will go to the sky, and the sky only.” He was killed days later in an air strike, survived by his wife and baby girl, who turned 1 on November 6.

#palestine #the nation #articles #📁.zip

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aller-geez · 9 months

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Get to know: Kanai Orpheus

2500 (25) // He/Him // pansexual // Hell Hound (Borzoi/Russian Wolfhound)

Full name: Kanai Orpheus

Nickname: Nai, K

Date Of Birth: February 10th

Big Three: Aquarius 🌞 Cancer 🌝 Virgo ↗️

(under construction!!!!)

Physical Appearance —

Age: 2500 years old, 25 earth years.

Eye Color: Cyan, has sectoral heterochromia in left eye (brown)

Hair Color: Grey Blue

Weight: 146 pounds

Height: 6’1

Race: Hell Hound (Borzoi/Russian Wolfhound is his breed)

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: Kanai has rather short, straight horns that are a shiny black. He wears a halo above his head ironically, and the gold color of his halo match his cheek piercings, his 30 mm plugs in his ears, and the upside-down crosses on chains from cartilage piercings on each ear. He wears black studs in his two top lip piercings, and both bottom lip piercings, and a seamless black ring in his septum piercing. The two nostril piercings have black horseshoe rings, and sometimes he wears a black barbell in his bridge piercing. His scleras are black. He always tries to assume the wardrobe of an elderly man (think, lots of sweater vests?)

Personality —

Greatest Strength: His determination. He never gives up if something has been set out to do; he doesn’t accept no for an answer.

Greatest Weakness: Earthly emotions. In hell, Kanai excels at anything he tries with minimum effort expended, however, he just can’t grasp the concept of emotions he cannot experience, though he desperately tries. His boyfriend, Draeko, has bipolar-1 and what started as a research project for the hellhound turned out to be just the beginning of something much bigger 🖤

Soft Spot: Doesn’t really have a soft spot as he doesn’t have emotions, but he does feel a force drawing him to Draeko that might eventually change everything for both of them 🖤

Mannerisms: His default expression is: :<

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Is Cerberus’ 12th son, and was next in line to take his father’s place in guarding the gates of hell for the next millennia. Before he spent the rest of his painfully long life at the gate, their culture required him to partake in RAMspringa, where he was forced into a human vessel and sent to earth with a chaperone (Alistar) and had to experience everything that the planet had to offer him before he could agree to take his father’s place.

Unsure of how to navigate most situations, he constantly looks to Alistar for reassurance and advice, despite Al frequently steering him in the wrong direction “for the lolz”

His boyfriend, Draeko, is diagnosed with Bipolar-1 and struggles to regulate his own emotions, giving Kanai even more of a difficult time trying to decipher the mutt and how he should react.

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Plants of all kinds

Dust

Strong perfumes / soaps

Cigarette smoke

Unfamiliar earth things

How severe are they?

Completely encumbering and constant. The mortal vessel he was given before being sent to earth had gone missing on inspection day and never received its “earth allergen immunity” vaccination the day before, leaving the poor hellhound with the most sensitive nose that reacts to nearly anything that could coax out a sneeze or two.

Do they get sick often?

Being from Hell, his immune system is pretty resistant to earthly viruses although he definitely gets a cold/flu a couple times a year like an average human.

How bad is it usually?

Due to the unfamiliarity, he always feels like he’s dying, regardless if it’s severe or not. He will complain often to Al, but Draeko won’t give him the chance to complain because he’s already coming with whatever the hellhound was about to ask for.

Do they stifle?

It’s not that he doesn’t stifle if possible, but most times his sneezes are too strong to successfully contain, so often times Kanai will forget it’s an option.

How loud are their sneezes?

Not super loud, but very breathy. Involves a ton of ‘K’s and ‘S’s,

What do they sneeze into?

If alone or out in public, his hands/elbow. If he’s trying to get a little spicy for Al, he’ll aim for either Draeko, whatever in Alistar’s hands at the time, or just simply on his best friend.

How often do they sneeze?

Because of his mortal vessel’s extreme sensitivity to earthly allergens or even just touch, they’re constantly bothering him, although some worse days than others.

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

Doesn’t usually have long fits, and 1-2 sneezes at once is his usual, unless he’s had prolonged exposure.

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

Extremely sudden and without much warning. As soon as he feels it coming, it’s too late to stop it.

Do they sneeze in public?

Yes, as Kanai doesn’t understand the emotion of embarrassment.

Some examples of their sneezes?

hh’KTishhh’yuu!!

HEH'kkssshuuh!!

Eh'kgsssshihh!

hh’KSHHh’hieww!!

Backstory —

(Coming soon!)

Reference Sheet —

Shift —

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year

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reading update

what's up gamers, the odds are very slim that I'll be finishing another book before November is over, so let's do a roundup! I've you've been following me literally at all you probably saw me reblog my public shame TBR list at some point, and now we get the #reviews.

what have I been reading?

Histories of the Transgender Child (Jules Gill-Peterson, 2018) - this book is a really incredible piece of historical research, exploring the existence of transgender and gender non-conforming children in the first half of the 21st century. Gill-Peterson threads a great needle of both laying out ways in which trans identity and specifically trans youth were understood in the early decades of trans healthcare, establishing that young transgender people are in no way a modern phenomenon, while also making the strong case that trans youth have been able to exist without complication or medical intervention throughout American history. It's an engrossing medical history, and I would say intensely valuable to anyone who has a vested interest in protecting trans kids' right to autonomy and joy.

Batman: Bruce Wayne - Murderer? (Greg Rucka et al, 2002) - this, to me, is peak Batfamily content. everyone is miserable and nobody is communicating about it because they're all too depressed and bitchy. Bruce gets accused of murder and sent to prison and he decides the only reasonable thing to do is break out and never be Bruce Wayne again, with seemingly no concern about how horrific the consequences will be for his family as long as he gets to keep being Batman. the dysfunction is... fucking delicious. cannot WAIT to read Bruce Wayne: Fugitive, I must know how Brucie baby gets himself out of this one. also, hey, have I mentioned that I miss Babs as Oracle every single day? god, she's just... she's so much cooler as Oracle.

Alive at the End of the World (Saeed Jones, 2022) - Jones is so so so so so so SO good at writing layers of pain and hurt into his poetry. the imagery of apocalypse and protest is infinitely striking, and I was particularly shaken by the recurring series within the book that ended each segment, in which Jones finds himself in his apartment after a reading speaking with a doppelganger who turns out to be his own personified pain. chills!!!! CHILLS!!!!

Elatsoe (Darcie Little Badger, 2020) - I wanted to make a point of reading something a little lighter, because we've been a little #heavy lately, and Little Badger's debut YA novel was perfect for that. while Elatsoe isn't what I'd call flawless - in particular, I have to say that the main characters seem VERY young for 17 year olds, feeling more like middle readers protagonists in most ways - it's an extremely charming book with a lot of really cool ideas. the world is one very like ours but suffused with mythology; ghosts, vampires, and fairies are well-known facts of life integrated seamlessly into the story. it's very cool to see an urban fantasy where the protagonist's parents are totally in on the supernatural and fully supportive of the teen sleuthing without any sketchy ulterior motivations, and I think the tidbit that Lipan folks are able to banish vampires for coming into their home - the entirety of their ancestral lands - without an invitation is one of the coolest twists on vampire lore I've ever seen.

Nature Poem (Tommy Pico, 2017) - I LOVE Tommy Pico's epic poetry (that's a literary term, not an outdated compliment), and I read Nature Poem in what I believe is the way that was intended: all in one evening, still wearing a cute little bodycon dress, glitter, and fishnets after a Halloween party, a little tipsy. as always Pico's voice is impeccable, dry and witty and observant and so, so tired of so much bullshit. the preoccupation of this poem is the idea of nature, specifically writing a poem about it, and Pico's railing against the idea that white poets can write countless poems about nature and only be seen as writing a poem, while he, as a Kumeyaay man, can't write a poem about nature without it being seen as a woo woo magical Native American thing. but it's not just that; no Pico poem is every just one thing, but a smart and circling conversation to drive a point home. I still don't know if I'm liking poetry right but man I know I love Tommy Pico.

The Trouble With Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life (Michael Warner, 1999) - full disclosure: I ordered this book in a feverish haze after it was recommended at a conference by a speaker who was so stupid hot that I nearly had a panic attack about it. we don't have time to unpack all that, but I will say that this was as eye-opening a read as nearly all historical queer texts are. the two things that jumped out at me most were 1.) Warner's well-written argument against the concept of marriage as a whole, with the then-ongoing fight for gay marriage necessarily included, and 2.) the scathing critiques of gay individuals who throw ~weird sexual deviant~ gays under the bus to further their own social standing. INSANE that that's still topical in 2022; can't wait to be quoting a 20+ year old book at people when the kink @ pride discourse starts in 2023.

A Dowry of Blood (S.T. Gibson, 2021) - that's right, it's the TikTok book about Dracula's brides being in a polycule! I figured with a description like that this was either going to be pretty good or bad in fun and interesting ways, and I wasn't disappointed at all. Dowry was a fast, fun read, with a heavy gothy ambiance all the way through. it carries more weight than expected by depicting Dracula himself as a surprisingly realistic abusive partner, a boyfriend from hell who keeps his partners on short leashes with a thinly-veiled threat of death if they ever displease him. if you like your vampires depressed, horny, and wrapped up in deeply unhealthy psychosexual mindgames you will LOVE this.

Into the Riverlands (Nghi Vo, 2022) - this is the latest novella in Vo's Singing Hills Cycle, which I cannot recommend enough to anyone. I didn't initially adore this entry quite as much as When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain or Empress of Salt and Fortune, I think because it felt less immersive. the Singing Hills Cycle tells stories within stories, framed by a cleric named Chih travelling to gather stories across the fictional kingdom in which they live. the first two novellas were much more immersive in their storytelling, and I think I missed having that in Into the Riverlands, but there was a certain reveal near the end that cast the whole thing in a very different light and made me like the setup a lot more. it's also worth noting that given the way this novella deals with larger-than-life martial artists and the way their legends are distorted across time, it reminded me VERY much of The Girl Who Kept Winter - a spectacularly fun read, one that I can't recommend enough.

The World We Make (N.K. Jemisin, 2022) - god DAMN, N.K. Jemisin! I was a little unsure about The City We Became, willing to rank it as my least favorite of Jemisin's books, but the sequel really knocked by socks off. I could hardly put it down, and I'm sad to see the duology ended already - if I'm being totally honest I think this book could easily have been fleshed into two for a trilogy, given how much capital-p-Plot is introduced, but I also really respect how much story Jemisin was able to so slicky introduce and resolve in under 400 pages here. on the whole this is a thriving, fast, fist-pumping love letter to New York City and the power of community in the face of all kinds of evil, and one of the few sequels I feel completely confident calling better than the original.

#bookblr #reading updates

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beardedmrbean · 8 months

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The first sign that something was wrong was the sound of the dogs barking.

It was 2.30am and dark outside. When Husam Abdelgawi, a 31-year-old accountant in the Libyan city of Derna, got up and went sleepily downstairs to check on them, he felt water under his feet.

Husam opened the front door of the house he shared with his younger brother, Ibrahim. More water flooded in, pulling the door off of its hinges.

The brothers ran to the back door, where they were met by a "ghastly, unimaginable scene, worse than death itself to witness", Husam said, in a phone interview from the city of Al-Qubbah.

"The bodies of women and children were floating past us. Cars and entire houses were caught up in the current. Some of the bodies were swept by the water into our house."

The water swept Husam and Ibrahim up too, carrying them farther and faster than they imagined possible. Within seconds, they were 150m apart.

Ibrahim, 28, managed to grab on to floating power cables still tethered to their poles and grapple himself back towards where Husam was stuck. The brothers used the cables like ropes to pull themselves towards a nearby building and through a third-floor window, and from there they made it to a fifth-floor rooftop where they could wait out the flood.

"The area where we were was a higher part of the city," Husam said. "In the lower parts, I don't think anyone on the fifth or sixth floors has survived. I think they are all dead. May God have mercy on their souls."

More than 5,000 people are now known to have died in the catastrophic flooding that has hit Libya following Storm Daniel. Derna's mayor has warned that 20,000 people may have lost their lives.

The flood was triggered by the failure of two dams outside Derna, unleashing a torrent of water through the city's centre.

"Derna was divided in two halves by the water and everything in between is gone," said Rahma Ben Khayal, an 18-year-old student who made it to safety on a rooftop in the city. "The people in between are all dead," she said.

The torrent that washed away entire streets began a day earlier, as light rain.

It was not frightening at first, said Amna Al Ameen Absais, a 23-year-old medical student born and raised in Derna, who is guardian to her three younger siblings following the death of both parents from illness.

As the raindrops drummed outside, the four siblings sat in their first floor apartment in the Beach Towers, a seven-story building next to the waterfront, playing games and scrolling on their phones. They dressed her younger brother in a life vest and laughed.

Some of Amna's own family are missing, too. Her uncle, his wife and their three sons lived in a nearby building that collapsed. "Our last call was about 9pm, he was calling to make sure we were OK," she said. "We haven't heard from him since."

Eventually, Amna was able to escape the building with all three siblings, after the floodwaters lowered. Her street had disappeared completely. "It was like the earth had split open," she said. "Only a cavity left where the street used to be."

A neighbour she knew slipped and disappeared into the water in front of their eyes, her husband and son unable to save her, Amna said. She heard that her best friend, Aisha, had not made it.

Amna and her siblings walked for hours to higher ground, passing bodies on the way. The death toll from the catastrophe looks set to rise significantly. Husam Abdelgawi, the accountant, said he had already counted at least 30 friends among the dead, and more than 200 acquaintances. "It is a miracle that I survived," he said.

The damage to Derna itself is catastrophic. Entire neighbourhoods have been destroyed. Many survivors are waiting desperately for news of loved ones. Others are mourning, for the dead and for Derna.

"I don't think I can ever go back," Amna said. "Those streets were my whole life. We knew every corner of the city. Now it's gone."

#nunyas news

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amielxxxangel · 2 years

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Ghost boys + finney + Gwen in a fantasy AU (random hcs and probably some shipping🤭)

So I’m using DND and rpg classes for this fantasy AU (but mainly rpg cuz I play that more and I don’t know much about dnd and when I mean ships I mainly mean finbin but it could also be a poly scenario minus Gwen😙)

Finn would be a mage especially if it’s an astral one which his moves would be more astrology based, his character would wear a robe filled with stars and constellations. He would be using a staff rather than wands because he feels more powerful with it. He’s also the main cleric of the group using magic to heal the others (aka robin and vance)

Robin would be a brawler having iron gauntlets on his arms and legs and still have his bandana around his head. He would also have a open vest to not restrict his movement which flusters finney while bruce and vance take it as a challenge on who’s the most fit

Vance without a question would be a berserk just running into enemies with a huge axe slashing through them with ease. He would be wearing just leather straps what connect to spiky shoulder pads and black leather pants with muddy boots over it.

Bruce would be a warrior/paladin. He’d be the protector of the group (and probably the most armored one). He would be wearing a white tunic with metal chest plate and metal bracelets on his arms he would be wearing grey trousers with metal boots (he would also have normal ones because he considers the metal ones bothersome.

Billy would be a bard and have his golden as his companion, he’d be the most aware in the news and goons on in their realm because of him being approachable. He would be wearing a red tunic with blue embroidery ,white pants and brown shoes.

Griffin would be a rouge being the most quite and smallest all of them it’s really easy for him sneak up on his enemies, he’s also good at archery with both skills combined he’s usually able to sneak past enemies and attack from behind. He would be wearing a dark grey hooded coat with a white tunic underneath and black pants and shoes perfect for being stealthy.

Gwen would also be a wizard but unlike finney who uses his magic to temporarily knock his opponent out she uses her magic to completely decimate them. Big or small it does not matter to her she will blow her enemies up. She would also be wearing a robe but it has more random pattern vibrant colors. She would also use a staff but unlike finney she would physically use her staff to beat her enemies up.

Now that’s done onto actual head cannons

Being the only girl in the group it a pain for her especially having to see her brother be all lovey dovey with 6 other boys, especially robin.

Even though finney and gwen are equally strong Gwen uses more “practical” ways of her magic like using her surroundings and casting elements to her foes, finney uses his to summon creatures and LITERALLY CREATE HUGE STARS AND SLAM THEM AT THE ENEMY to temporarily knock them out.

Finney and Gwen have a drastic difference with how they use their staffs to use their magic. Gwen uses her stall more like a blunt object slamming it to the ground to bring rocks up and swinging it like a bat bruce taught her that. While finney uses his staff like baton twirling it to summon a swarm of wasps, or twirling around his magic circle to creat a volley or shooting stars.

And every time finney does a summon or just does the things he does with his magic it always leaves the boys mesmerized and just end up staring at his beautiful he looks.

Gwen and finney have their own magic circles. It changes depending on what element Gwen is using while finney’s only changes when he’s summoning.

Finney does master a new magic circle when he finally becomes the “healer” of the group and uses his magic to treat the others.

Even though robin is the second smallest he is probably the most physically strongest .He can literally pull a tree out it’s roots and throw that thing like it’s nothing

Every time robin does it the the other guys are both amazed and intimidated and weirdly attracted to it

Robins also really fast probably the second fastest to griffin

Vance just goes into enemy fights head on, which usually end up with most of the actual threats dead

Vance would be very injured tho and immediately go to finney to get taken care of.

Vance would be able to creat quakes in the ground, just one smash of his ace and the next thing you know a earthquake erupts in their area

Bruce would act all stoic and chivalrous because he’s a knight and the rest would just bully him on it

He teaches Gwen how to fight that’s why Gwen uses her staff like it’s meant for actual combat

Finney summons a horse for Bruce even if he’s against it. Finney finds it fitting for “the knight to have his steed”.

Bruce is able to conjure up large gusts of wind with his sword. One good swing and you’ll be dealing with a tornado

Even if Billy’s a bard he can fight (even if it meant damaging his lute)

He’s the most approachable thats why he gets the most info when their in towns

His lute has the ability to make its music affect his enemies emotion making them feel overwhelming sadness or doubt or making the others feel a rush of Adrenaline

Griffin, being the most quiet always ends up scaring the others by accident. He’d be right beside them and nobody would notice until he’d say something sometimes startling the rest

It’s easy for him to become invisible making it easy for him to get behind enemies or gather information in places the rest can’t go in

I’m gonna say this one isn’t the best I’ll definitely make a part 2

#the black phone #griffin stagg #billy showalter #tbp #vance hopper #bruce yamada #finney blake #anyway its a wonderful fantasy adventure with canon mlm #canon what canon #this is my universe😤

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clevermird · 9 months

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Title: Good Times and Good Drinks

Prompt: Confessions @shortfictionweeklychallenge

Rating: Teen

Characters: Jessasi Silver (female Smuggler), Corso Riggs

Pairing(s): femSmuggler/Corso

Now that she has her ship back, Jessasi decides that she and Corso deserve a night on the town - but they both might have a bit more than they're admitting on their minds.

This is also my attempt to mess around with the start of the Corso romance plotline to make it less awkward and weird.

Text under cut

For the first time in weeks, Jessasi was sitting right where she belonged: in the cockpit of The Fool’s Wager, feet up on the dash, music blaring from the stereo. It’s good to be home. Skavik hadn’t even sold any of her stuff!

She checked her wrist chrono. Still eighteen hours until they were supposed to take off. Hmm. . .

“Corso!” she called, swinging her feet to the floor. “Get ready, we’re going to town!”

Twenty minutes later, she was ready to go and she didn’t look half-bad if she did say so herself: striped shorts, a grey top that clung to her curves, short vest to draw the eyes to her chest, and comfortable sandals. Checking the mirror one more time, she added a bit more eyeshadow and a touch of lipstick, slid on a few bracelets, and headed for the airlock.

Corso was waiting for her. “Aren’t we going to bring Risha?”

“Nah.” Running across the galaxy on her say-so was one thing. Going to the bar with her was another.

They took a taxi to the Old Galactic Market Sector and found the cantina easily. Darmas Pollaran had moved on, but the place was still crawling with all sorts relaxing after hard days. Down on their luck spacer types nursed drinks and scowled at everyone else, swankier customers played sabbacc, and a few guys were already drunk enough to be trying to dance along with the holodancers.

Jessasi rolled her eyes and headed for the bar.

The droid manning the drink orders whirred over as she slid onto a stool. “What will it be today, gentlebeings?” he said in a voice that sounded ridiculously snooty on any bartender outside the Senate Tower.

“Uh. . . just a Corellian ale?” Corso said, looking awkward.

“Come on, Corso, where’s your sense of adventure? This is Coruscant!”

“I already know I like it, why bother changing?”

Jessasi shrugged.

The droid turned in her direction. “And for you, m’am?”

“How about a Nexu Tail?” It wasn’t a drink she could find everywhere, but when they do, she always got them.

While they waited, she looked around to see if anything exciting was happening. Someone must have just won a pazzak match. The guy was dancing around like something good had happened, at any rate. A cute, yellow-skinned twi’lek guy smiled bashfully at her and she smiled back. He brightened.

“Uh. . . Captain?” said Corso with just a bit of an edge to his voice.

“What?” I’ll talk to anyone I like, thank you very much. The guy looked at Corso, then back at her. Shaking her head, Jessasi waved him over.

As he got up, someone shouted from across the room and he turned. A moment later, he was bro-hugging a burly Cathar and Jessasi was back to waiting for the drinks to show up.

Probably for the best anyway. Her mom had always said “flirt all you want, kiss all you like, but don’t give your heart – or your holes – to anyone unless you’re sure he’s the one.” And so far, she’d followed that rule with only two exceptions. And she’d really thought that Mal was the one, so actually it was only one exception.

Thinking about Mal was on its way to ruining her good mood, but fortunately, the droid returned with their drinks before she’d stewed about it too much. They certainly served generous portions in this place. Corso’s beer mug was half the size of her head.

“What is that?” he said, looking at her drink.

“It’s a Nexu tail.”

“Looks like a couple of Zeltrons exploded in your glass.”

Scowling at him, Jessasi took a sip of the brightly colored drink. “It tastes good.” And they put way more Corillian rum in it than most places did.

Corso took a swig of his beer. “Really?”

“Yeah, try it.”

He sipped it, frowned, took another sip, then two more. “Wow, you’re right. Is that mujafruit juice?”

“I honestly have no idea.” She grinned and ordered another drink. Maybe something akdov-based this time. . .

Several glasses in, she could feel the liquor starting to work. A warm feeling stretched down toward her toes and she felt really relaxed for the first time in a while. Coming here was a great idea.

“I guess you should get to try one of mine,” Corso said, breaking a silence of several rounds.

He slid the mug over and Jessasi picked it up with both hands. The drink had a rich, gold taste that made her feel even warmer.

“You’ve got foam on your nose.”

She wiped it off and returned to her own drink. “You know?” she said, giggling a little. “I really hope Risha’s telling the truth.”

“So do I, Captain.”

“I mean, it would really suck if she wasn’t. And you can call me Jess, you know. Everyone else does.”

The droid reappeared, dripping with some unsatisfied customer’s drink. “May I refill your glasses, gentlebeings?”

They looked at each other and their eyes met. Corso grinned. Jessasi grinned. “Sure. Why not.”

Corso’s eyes were brown, she noticed as the droid trotted away to mix her another drink. A really nice brown. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? She looked away awkwardly. Someone was singing some kind of drinking song on the sunk-in section of the floor.

Their refills came back really fast this time and she started drinking again.

Setting down his already half-drained mug, Corso said, far too loudly, “Why do we never do anything fun like this on the ship?”

“We just got the ship back! And I can be kind of fun!” She shouldn’t turn her head so fast. It made the room spin.

Corso grunted and kept drinking. Jessasi followed suit. She was almost at the bottom of the glass before Corso spoke again. “We could get our blasters out and see who can take out the bartender droid the fastest.”

For some reason, this seemed hilarious and Jessasi started giggling. “I don’t think the cops would like that very much,” she managed to get out when she could breathe again.

He laughed too and scooted his stool closer. He smelled good, like a haystack, even though it had been weeks since he could have been near one. “Back on Ord Mantell, we used to run the rontos around in circles and see if they could charge us without falling over. We should do that.”

That set her off again and she felt tears coming to her eyes. “Got any suggestions that don’t involve farm animals, farmboy?”

“I know a few, but I might not be able to show you all of them here. . . “ He leaned in closer and Jessasi felt his lips brush against hers, his breath hot on her face. She smiled.

Then he pulled away. “Sorry, Captain,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have done that. Propositioning you in a bar like a Hutt’s dancer. It’s not right.”

“’sokay,” Jessasi replied. Everything was starting to get fuzzy, but she felt sad nonetheless.

“Are you doing okay?”

She burped. “I thinks so.”

“We should get you back to the ship.” His words slurred together, but she wasn’t sure if that was him talking or her hearing. Maybe a little of both?

When she tried to walk, the floor kind of tilted like the Fool’s deck did when she pulled crazy stunts. Somehow, she ended up with her arm around Corso’s shoulder and they made it out to the curb. A taxi pulled up and the droid buzzed. “State your destination.”

Jessasi crawled into the seat and curled up on it. “Taris. That’s what Risha said, right? And we have to do what Risha says. She’s the only one who knows where it is.”

“Just take us back to the spaceport,” Corso said.

Oh. Right. The spaceport. The speeder started speeding along again – a speeder, speeding, how funny is that? – and Jessasi closed her eyes. It made her stomach hurt less. “I don’t feel very good.”

“Why don’t you go to sleep? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Okay. You know what? I like you.”

“I like you too, Captain.”

As the speeder hurried back to the spaceport and her ship, Jessasi fell asleep with her head on Corso’s shoulder.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #swtor smuggler #corso riggs

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popicoooo · 1 year

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KotS | Elite | Grillans 2

The western boy came back a week later. He let himself right into Grillans’ home like it was his own, all silk shirts and threaded vests. Merrian’s father would talk with Grillans’ father, while Merrian would butt his nose into whatever Grillans was doing. It was annoying, but no one could argue with extra man power. Despite never doing manual labor in his life, Merrian was fairly strong, Grillans would admit. It frustrates him, to a point.

Nearly ten weeks into this routine Grillans decided to keep certain tasks for Merrian to do, seeing if he would draw a line at some point. The first chore was re-knotting nets.

“Is that all?” Merrian had said, both fine eyebrows raised. He hasn’t figured out how to move just one.

“Yep.” Grillans replied, pouring two glasses of honey ale. They were in the land-facing storage shed, jutted in the snow atop the cliff. Merrian was on the porch outside, always preferring to work outside when able. Grillans walked out and sat at the chair across from Merrian, setting down the glasses, Merrian’s fingers already pink from sores.

The trick to this chore is that the ship nets are specially woven with sharp thread to pierce fish and wreckage. Grillans’ father had sent them with special gloves meant to keep the rope from cutting their hands. Grillans left them inside.

Grillans took a sip of his ale, leaning back in his chair obnoxiously on purpose. This week, he decided, Grillans would lounge while Merrian worked. This far in, Merrian only glances at Grillans every once in a while questioningly at his lack of activity.

Where Merrian’s nail meets skin starts to bleed when he ties the next knot, and yet he still doesn’t complain. Grillans doesn’t know what to do about this. He doesn’t want Merrian hurt, of course. This is all in an effort to satisfy Grillans’ curiosity, something in interest of good fun. But Grillans also has a sick fascination in how far he can push Merrian before his western upbringing rears its ugly head. Decisions, decisions…

“Odd, that they built this facing land.” Merrian says. He looks at Grillans while saying it, the effect of his piercing green eyes in direct opposition in the lack of focus in his speech. “Would not they want the sea breeze on their faces?”

“The sight of the sea grows tiresome over th’ years.” Grillans responds. His eyes follow a pearl of blood that runs down Merrian’s glass as he drinks. “Plus, wild game doesn’t run near th’ cliff side. This here’s a hunter’s shed.”

“Suppose.” Merrian continues to work. Grillans notes he’s very close to done despite the short amount of time. His fingers are deft with the rope and dyed pink. A moment later and he’s done, chugging the last dregs of ale. Grillans packs away the net and brings back Merrian to the sitting area after he cleans the glasses.

“Come ‘ere.” Grillans calls, a familiar phrase to the pair of them now. Merrian sits in the chair across again. Grillans simply waves him closer, and Merrian moves the chair. Grillans takes Merrian’s hands, sitting knee to knee, and holds Merrian’s gaze.

Grillans presses Merrian’s pointer finger, the blond boy wincing slightly as he does so. He collects both of Merrian’s hands between his own and closes his eyes. Grillans whispers below his breath, hearing phantom chimes like clinking medicine boxes, as one by one the scratches on Merrian’s fingers transfers to Grillans. When his eyes open, Merrian stares at Grillans openly, something Grillans is only used to him doing when his back is turned.

It’s then that Grillans remembers that westerners have started forgetting their magic.

“When my dad asks,” Grillans starts, dancing around the issue, “I refused to wear my gloves. Yeah?”

“…Of course.” Merrian says weakly, a strange look in his eyes. They sit a while, not talking but sharing some dialog through glances as they stare at each other. Grillans gets up to leave first.

——————

The next test, Grillans told Merrian to retrieve an anchor after its line broke.

“You are insane.” Merrian protests instantly, a refreshing change of pace. It’s been nearly half a year since they met and the only time Merrian put any resistance to what Grillans asked of him. “I can’t even swim.”

“I can teach ya how.” Grillans pushes lightly. “It’s not down deep, barely taller than me.” Merrian sends a mean look at Grillans, both knowing full well that Grillans’ recent growth spurt meant he was now two heads taller than Merrian.

“I don’t have a change of clothes, friend.” Merrian whinges. This outfit in particular is quite nice, a long jacket in a rich blue color, a pattern of golden flowers along his lapels. His black undershirt and cravat— because now against his own will Grillans knows what a cravat is —is offset by his copper rings and belt chains. His hair is drawn into a low ponytail, nearly past his shoulders. Grillans has never seen a man with such long hair without a beard, his own long enough to style now, but that’s beside the point.

“I can loan ya some spare drawers. They should fit.” Grillans pokes at Merrian’s resolve. Something about how Merrian didn’t simply leave the moment Grillans suggested he get the anchor makes Grillans press the topic. Merrian shifts from foot to foot, a slight indent in his lip where he chews the inside of his mouth. Grillans quirks an eyebrow while Merrian continues to consider something he already said no to. Close to saying no to, anyway.

“Fine.” Merrian snaps a moment later. Grillans watches him saunter into his home. While Merrian changes, Grillans takes a bottle of grounded wolf’s bone from his pocket and scatters it around the water, because the damn westerner didn’t think about how he’ll freeze to death in these waters. The sea boils as the bone dissolves, the tingling of old blood in the back of Grillans’ throat from the ritual.

When Merrian comes back, Grillans’ father is with him— Merrian’s father has long since let his son go to the docks alone. Merrian is swimming in one of his old shirts, and the spare pants are tied twice over to fit on his hips. There is a spattering of pearl blond hair on Merrian’s chest that is just visible over the low dip of the shirt’s neck. Grillans catches his eyes riding along the narrow line between his breasts.

“Well, friend. What now” Merrian puts his hands on his hips, small muscles jumping at the movement.

“Ah. Uh, come ‘ere.” Grillans waves Merrian over. Grillans can feel the questioning gaze of his father. “Just dip yer toes in fer a moment. When yer ready, slip in and kick. Like yer walkin’.” Merrian sits on the dock and winces when his feet hit the water. Magic can only do so much against the sea’s chill. Merrian slowly lowers himself down waist deep into the water, the fine hairs of his skin standing against the cold. The water ripples where Merrian begins to kick.

“‘Ere, hold my hand.” Grillans says, sitting down and grabbing Merrian’s wrist. Merrian nods and submerges fully into the water without one arm. Grillans pulls him up by the arm quickly, Merrian’s other arm wiping at the salt water in his eyes. The blond coughs and swings his free hand to grab Grillans’ arm.

“C-cold!” Merrian stutters.

“Of course it’s cold, ya daft diamond crusted oaf.” Grillans growls. His father laughs softly and crouches down next to him.

“Start kicking your legs, and wave yer arms.” Grillans’ father instructs. “Go ahead and let ‘em down a bit. Once ya can’t feel his weight let ‘em go.” Merrian starts to tread water and Grillans let’s him go. His hand feels cold as it curls around nothing.

“Yer gonna have ta dive down.” Grillans tells Merrian. “Take a deep breath and push yerself towards the anchor.”

“Y-you think I c-can see down th-there?”

“It’ll be fuzzy, but yeah.” Grillans lightly taps Merrian’s head, blond strands darkened from the water. Merrian frowns, glaring slightly before gulping in air and sinking down.

“You think he can do this?” Grillans father asks him softly. Grillans shrugs.

“Wouldn’ta agreed if he couldn’t.” Grillans reasons.

“Yer mum asked me ta do things I wasn’t sure I could do. Still tried ‘em.” His father rests his cheek on top of Grillans’ head, just tall enough to do so. Grillans frowns in thought.

“Merrian don’t think of me like that, old man.”

“If ya say so.” His father responds just as Merrian bursts out from the water, gasping.

“I c-can reach it, but it’s-s too heavy.” Merrian grabs the dock ledge. “Lend a h-hand?”

They settle on having Merrian dive down with Grillans holding his legs. When Merrian gives the signal Grillans will pull him up and his father will grab the anchor as soon as it breaks the surface. It goes off without a hitch, Merrian now shivering and pink faced under a towel. Grillans sits down with him next to the fireplace, handing him a glass of warm mead.

“Thanks, friend.” Merrian takes a long drink of the mead. They sit fairly close together, Grillans trying to provide body heat without being invasive. Merrian’s fancy outfit is lain across the couch, sharply out of place in Grillans’ home. Just Merrian himself is out of place with Grillans, his smooth skin and unblemished face. The crackle of the fire place keeps the silence at bay as the two boys lounge together. Soon Merrian stops shivering, returning to a normal pale color. The two remain close even so.

“Ya never say no.” Grillans mutters. Merrian shifts to look at him, his deep green eyes bottomless pits Grillans always finds himself trapped in.

“I suppose not.” Merrian murmurs back, like if they spoke too loud their world would break. “But you keep asking.”

“I just… where do ya stop?”

“Maybe… maybe I don’t. Not when it’s you.” Merrian bumps his shoulder into Grillans. “Still have to prove myself to you, right?” Grillans gives him a confused look.

“I mean. You should like me by now.” Merrian gives a wry smirk. “Is it worth knowing someone with a last name yet?”

“Ya mean all of this is because I said I didn’t like ya nearly half a year ago?” Grillans laughs. “Yer a daft man, Merrian Dimivitch.”

“Five months and one week ago, yes.” Merrian says with a straight face. Grillans barks with laughter. “I take my family name very seriously, friend. You’re prime business, and if you ditch me once you inherit these ships I’d be very cross.” Merrian’s still smiling as he says this, staring at the fire absentmindedly. He does look over when Grillans separated from where they were leaning together though. Grillans frowns, a nasty feeling rolling around in his gut.

“Is this all business to ya, Merrian?” Grillans asks, voice softer than even he thought possible. The feeling coils around his heart and squeezes so Grillans can feel each beat in his throat. All this time, he thought he was going to run into Merrian’s western upbringing like facing a pack of wolves, slicing traits down one by one until he could see the boy underneath. Has Grillans been stuck in his den this entire time?

“Why else would we associate?” Merrian causes the coils in Grillans heart to constrict with a look that says this was the only possible explanation. That Grillans is a fool for ever thinking otherwise. Grillans stands and walks towards his kitchen.

“Friend?” Merrian calls questioningly, scrambling up from his seat with the blanket still held against him.

“Ya must have somewhere important ta be.” Grillans says stiffly. “I won’t keep ya.”

Grillans rounds the corner to where his father is cooking. The pan sits still on the fire as his father looks at him softly. No conversation is private in their house. Grillans pushes into his father’s space, wrapping his arms around him and digging his face into his shoulder. Moments later they hear the door open and close.

“He don’t think of me like that, dad.” Grillans mutters into his father. He runs a hand through Grillans’ hair and tuts sympathetically.

“Yer both just boys, my son.” Grillans’ father kisses his forehead. “Give it time.” Grillans doesn’t bother to argue.

#writers of tumblr #creative writing #kingdom of the supernatural #kots #oc origin story #oc original character #oc stuff #origin story #writing #gay mlm #gay #slow burn #strangers to friends to lovers #when I say slow burn #I mean slow burn #like these kids will be close to their 30s before their first kiss #but we don’t gotta worry about that

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lowkeyclueless5137 · 1 year

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Hello :3

Today it's a bit new! Because I am finally tackling my one and only oc: Maau Al-Chagai...

Since it's his b-day! :D

We will dwelve a bit into his little daily routine and what struggles come with looking like a macho stronk delinquent. :'3

This will be before he and my yuusona meet, so around chapter 1-start of chapter 2 kind of...

Which is great to see how accommodations work and who Maau is forced to interact at first.

Yep... He's forced because God forbid him actually approaching someone for a first time :'3

Anyway! On with the routine!

~~~~~~

The sun creaked through the window of the Scarabia dormitory. With the peace and quiet of such morning, one may assume it was Saturday or Sunday.

"GOOD MORNING, MAAU! YOU HAVE SCHOOL TODAY!"

No, it wasn't. In fact, it was Wednesday.

The strands of deep red, velvet like purple and bright orange moved a bit from the pillow as the boy with the said hair let out a muffled '5 more minutes', hand instinctively reaching out to the nightstand, slapping through the air, trying to shut up the imaginary alarm clock. Groans of other students, his roommates, were heard as some sluggish 'good morning' and 'morning, Dormhead' were spoken. Maau still groaned as he rose up from his bed, letting out a small yawn as he got off the blanket, getting off the bed and stretching a bit.

"Come on, Maau!" Kalim happily bounced off his feet.

"A-ah... Good morning, Kali- I mean Dormhead! But then we are friends, but I am a first year, then again you insist on a lack of formality, bur that wouldn't be that nice of me and-" Maau quickly spiraled in a mumbling frenzy as he was grabbing his things from his closet, setting them on the bed. Kalim just sat on his bed and looked at the first year walking around, lost in his own mumbling about 'status and addressing'.

Kalim took in consideration a few things: how Maau was towering over him. The buff frame, a few birthmarks on his skin, yet his face was flawlessly clean of them. The hair in colors of red, purple and orange was bearly over his shoulders, in a lazy braid that was coming off right before the dormleader's eyes.

Maau just went into the bathroom with clothes and all, getting out after a few minutes, this time silent, as he finished his long ramble. He already put the button up shirt and the vest, arranging it a bit. "aww! You look so good in the uniform! Come on! Lemme add the finishing touch!" Kalim beamed.

The dormleader jumped out of the bed, with the Scarabia armband and a tie. He put the armband on Maau's arm while he made a big bow with the tie on the boy's neck. "Jamil teached me to do bows... Now you look adorable!" "Thank you..." Maau quietly responded, tying his hair in a low ponytail.

"Come on! Breakfast is already in full swing!" Kalim beamed as he dragged Maau out of the room. The first year bearly got a grasp of his magic pen before leaving with Kalim the said room.

At the breakfast, Jamil was counting plates when Kalim barged happily with Maau looking only at the floor. "Good morning!" Both greeted, one excitedly as the other in a shushed voice, completely covered by the other. Jamil exhaled. "good morning to you too... Now get down and eat something before classes start..." He demanded.

Maau shuffled to a vacant seat, putting onto his plate a bit of food. He wasn't a breakfast person. In fact, the most he ate was actually at the lunch. But with Jamil's expecting gaze, he had no other option than to put a tiny bit more and indulge onto eating.

With all the preparations ready, Maau only had to fling his schoolbag over his shoulder and head out of the dorm towards classes. Scarabia students seemed to avoid him, but this was Maau's least of worries.

He plans on doing good in school for now. Anyway he was a disaster when it came to social communication.

"Maau... Didn't you forget something?"

In public of all places. Dorm students started to whisper in between them as Maau turned to face Jamil. The vice of Scarabia holded in his hand a small pocket whiteboard that had a marker attached to it via a support.

Maau blushed a mad shade of red in embarrassment, quietly grabbing it as he looked down, scribbling onto it something. Jamil rose a brow as Maau rose the whiteboard to see what was written on it.

'Thank you, Jamil'

Maau's writing was pretty, calligraphic and clean. Jamil would say it was as if he looked into a hand written book from the old ages, where the writing had to be impeccable. "You're welcome... Now go to classes... And try to stay out of trouble..." He mused. Maau just nodded as he wiped off the whiteboard and left towards the mirror. "Oh! And one last warning!" Jamil called.

"If you see some Octavinelle twins or an annoying Octavinelle dude with glasses... Get away from them..."

Maau sure took that advice to heart. Jamil never told him anything bad. Jamil was capable and wise. Rarely did Maau doubt him, but even then, Jamil was proven to be right. Kalim was insanely lucky to have him as his friend and right hand man.

Classes were never boring. Well not entirely, but Maau's classmate, Sebek, sure was loud enough to bring an element of surprise. Maau envied him most times. To be able to speak so confident and freely. As if no one expects anything out of you. Even if he was harsh, Sebek always gave a piece of his mind weather it was wanted or not. Maybe it was that level of self fulfillment that Sebek had over his duty as a guard. Or perhaps something else. Maau did not know, but sure he wanted to find out.

Too bad he was afraid to ask.

Their last class for the day was alchemy. And last time, professor Crewel told them that they will have to pair up today for a project. Maau looked over his options. He also had conjoined class with the ones from 1-B.

Most students already paired up with each other. Before he could even realize it, Maau found himself out of options from his class.

So looking around, Maau spotted a tall buff wolf Beastman. Taking in a deep breath, he approached him, gently tapping onto his shoulder to gain his attention.

He can do it! Just ask one simple thing!

"Hmm? What is it?" The boy turned around to face Maau. The mulți colored haired boy opened his mouth. "I-....-I" He opened his mouth, his voice immediately caught up in his throat.

Yeah... He couldn't do it.

Maau just covered his face in shame. "Eh?! Are you alright?!" The wolf Beastman panicked as he saw the other boy immediately spiral into an internal panic state. "calm down... Please..." Jack frantically looked around. Luckily no one payed too much mind to them as crewel was assigning them cauldrons to the already formed pairs.

Maau tho, calmed down, taking a deep breath as he grabbed his whiteboard and scribbled onto it, before holding it out to the Beastman to see.

'I wanted to ask if you wanted to be lab partners'

"oh... This is what you wanted to say..." The Beastman awkwardly scratched his nape as Maau nodded. "well... I'm afraid I already have a partner... It's him over there..." Jack pointed to a beautiful lavender haired boy, quite short in stature. Maau seemed dejected, but nonetheless he couldn't have expected any other result.

Then who was he going to partner up with?

"HUMAN! WE SHALL BE PARTNERS!"

Amazing... Note the sarcasm

Maau silently looked at the wolf Beastman, his eyes speaking for the boy. The Beastman did see how Maau mouthed a 'help' as he was dragged by Sebek to get a Cauldron assignment.

Now all the attention will be on him! And he couldn't ask for Sebek to do anything else without him getting on a loud par and attracting even more stares! Hell! Even the teacher might scold them!

But so far, Sebek seemed to mind only the assignment at hand. Maau was grateful for this.

"HUMAN! Don't cut them like that! Make them thinner!" Sebek demanded as Maau jolted.

SPLAT!

The boy grunted as he cut his palm with the knife. Maau surpressed a scream from his throat, instead letting out a wierd grunt like sound. "Human! Get to work! We must finish this assignment as fast as possible!" Neither Sebek seemed to see that Maau cut himself, which left the boy to tend to his wound in silence and annoyance. Carefully trying to cut the ingredients, Maau winched from time to time. With Sebek blabbering in the background and the chatter of the other adding to the level of stress, Maau really just wanted to get over with it, then drop by the infirmary before Jamil would catch wind of his little accident

"HUMA-" "Be quiet, please..." it was a low tone, imposing and demanding, making Sebek to hang a few second with his mouth wide open, before closing it again and quietly stirring into the Cauldron.

Maau didn't mean to sound scary, but then again, he was way too shy to formulate a proper apology, so for the rest of the project, the 2 silently made their potion. It wasn't perfect, but it was decent enough that Crewel passed both of them for the class. The teacher also noticed Maau's wound, bandaging it and sending the boy to the infirmary.

But as Sebek got out of the class, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Maau, apologetically holding his whiteboard with his non-wounded hand.

'I am sorry for telling you to be quiet. I didn't mean to sound so mean.'

"It doesn't matter, human! I have chose to not speak on my own accord! Not because a human has ordered me to!" Sebek puffed. Maau exhaled at that, wiping the board and clumsily scribbling something on it.

'Can we have lunch together maybe?'

"OUTRAGEOUS!" Sebek yelled. "I have to tend to Wakasama during the lunch period..." Sebek made a pause, looking at the scared shitless Maau. "But today Wakasama doesn't have lunch at the same time as me... So I GUESS I can spare my time for your request..." He breathed out as he noticed Maau's eyes sparkled with reassurance.

After a short visit to the infirmary, Maau found himself with yet another titanical task: Assure a lunch table. Sure he would have the advantage of not standing in line because Jamil packed for him some lunch. But still there was that fear that maybe someone would want the spot Maau chose. Or maybe if he chose a very popular spot that would gain attention no matter what?!

In the end, poor Maau chose a table in a corner, carefully setting down his lunch and unpacking everything. Jamil made yesterday some steak in wine and garlic sauce, which Maau asked if he could have the leftovers for lunch. He didn't want to stress Jamil and anyway be it cooked last night or this morning, still the steak would not be warm for lunch.

Maau was a guilty meat lover. He could only blame himself for it.

"HUMAN! There you were!" And there it was. Maau almost dropped his cutlery when Sebek took him by surprise. The Greenhead hastily seated himself in front of Maau, on the other side of the table. Sebek seemed to have brought himself not so much.

Perhaps he was caught in the crowd?

Maau let down his cutlery and grabbed his marker and whiteboard, writing on it. Sebek rose a brow at this. "What is it, human?" He asked.

'How don't really eat that much...'

"Such incorrect judgement! Fit for a human I guess..." Sebek puffed. "I eat regularly as I need all the possible nutrients to protect Wakasama. You on the other hand, eat too much at once!" Sebek noted, eyeing the big steak Maau had, which was half eaten.

Maau pushed away the food, silently looking in another part, embarrassed.

"Why did you stop eating?" Sebek rose a brow as he noticed Maau didn't touch his food since the last comment. "You mustn't throw away good food! Ungrateful human!" He nagged. Maau hastily grabbed his fork and knife, starting to eat again.

Maybe it was a bad idea to ask Sebek to lunch. The Greenhead would not shut up.

"You seem to have trouble finishing it up..." Sebek noted as he already finished his lunch. Maau rose his head shyly. "Y-y-you want some? I-I mean maybe you don't like meat o-or maybe you're allergic to garlic-" He quietly rambled. "IMPOSSIBLE! I am perfectly healthy, with no allergies! I can eat from your meat just fine!" Sebek boomed. Maau looked down as he cut a chunk of his remaining meat. It wasn't a lot, but still he offered the meat to Sebek, who in response ate it with no problems.

"I must admit! This meat is quite enjoyable... For a human, you have great taste in such matters!" Sebek praised. Or at least Maau assumed it was praise as the other seemed quite content with the taste of the meant. Scribbling on his board, Maau showed it to Sebek again.

'My vice dormleader cooked it last night for dinner... It's just a leftover... I like it more when it's freshly cooked.'

"I must say, Wakasama would enjoy such meal. And if you preach the truth and the meat would be better freshly cooked, then Wakasama shall be fit to enjoy such culinary product as fresh as possible!" Sebek declared. Maau looked in another part with a bead of sweat over his forehead.

Did Sebek just autoinvite himself and his Wakasama over to dinner?!

Panicky scribbling, Maau showed the new message to Sebek, hoping it will clear out the miscommunication.

'Today we are having spicy food for dinner... Maybe another time we will have steak again...'

"Perhaps I should try this spicy food you speak of! If the steak is an idea of the overall quality of the dorm's food, I assume other dishes may improve the impression..." Sebek declared. Maau sweated even more.

'I will have to tell Dormhead if you are coming over.'

"INDEED! I shall promptly announce my and Wakasama's arrival! And you shall inform your dormleader about our arrival! I will confirm it by the afternoon." Sebek declared, leaving in a hurry and Maau just saw his life flash then and there.

Oh he will never hear the end of it from Jamil.

Exhaling, later Maau awkwardly made his way towards Kalim. He knew by now that the Scarabia dormleader had PE. So it was more like Kalim spotting Maau than the other way around.

"MAAU! How was your day? Did you make friends? Did you have fun?" Kalim excitedly approached the other as Maau blushed in embarrassment, looking in any other way but at Kalim. The taller took a big breath.

"I... Made a big mistake! I talked with my classmate, Sebek, and he was so loud so I was mean to him, but then I apologised and we ate together and now I don't know what I did, but I accidentally invited him and his Wakasama to dinner at Scarabia and I really messed up, because Jamil will be overwhelmed and he will nag me..." Maau stopped from his extremely fast speech to take another breath of air, but Kalim already clapped his hands.

"Aww! Your friend is coming over! Don't worry! I won't tell Jamil! We will have a big party tho! And Malleus coming as well is a great way to tell him about what he missed at the dorm leader meeting!" Kalim smiled. At this Maau seemed to become a bit paler.

He accidentally invited over THE Malleus Draconia?!

"Oh! You cut yourself?! Poor you! Did you go to the infirmary?" Maau nodded. Kalim smiled and he patted the other's shoulder. "don't worry! It will be alright!"

Well... Everything was NOT alright in Maau's agenda.

Jamil seemed really not in the mood for the feast Kalim announced. Scarabia itself was in a panic when Kalim announced the visit of Malleus Draconia. And poor Maau, he could bearly touch upon his Homework since he had to help around with the preparations, mostly in the kitchen, preparing the sauces for Jamil along the other scarabia students.

But in the end, Maau was in the dorm uniform, arranging his bracelets a bit. Jamil told him that he needed to show a good host material, which Maau was everything but a good host material. Just waiting by the entry of the dorm gave Maau goosebumps.

"HUMAN!" and there it was, the moment of truth. Sebek lead the way first, going straight towards Maau, much to the other's horror. Maau was thankful he wrote in advance on his little board, showing it to Sebek.

'Hello! And welcome to Scarabia!'

It was simple, but a polite greeting nonetheless. "Greetings to you as well, Human!" Sebek cheerfully said.

"Indeed... Greetings, child of man..." and that voice sent Maau a chill up his spine, bearly holding the board right.

Malleus Draconia. In all of his glory, with a shorter smug looking Fae and another guard with silver hair. Maau now knew what the people were meaning when they say 'if looks could kill'. Malleus's presence alone would have Maau dropping dead.

Yet here he was, face to face with him. He didn't even need to look up. And it made it far more awkward. Scribbling hurriedly onto his whiteboard, Maau showed it again to the group, only to gain some confused stares. Looking down, Maau was horrified.

He holded it upside down.

Fixing his mistake, the boy shyly looked in another part.

'It is a honor to have you for dinner.'

"I must correct you, child of man..." Malleus replied with a warm smile. "It is our honor to be invited to dinner. I must say, your dorm looks lovely." He noted. Maau was mentally dying, as the 4 gave all of their attention to him. Did he have something on his face?! Were his clothes stained? Or was his posture not alright?!

"Hello, guys! Come in! There is a bit more until the food arrives tho!" Kalim came to save the day as Maau stood there awkwardly. "Maau, come on! Let's show our guests around!" He beamed. "Y-yes, Dormhead..." Maau mumbled, awkwardly tailing after Kalim.

"curious... I thought he was mute..." "fufufu... Full of surprises is this little aquitance Sebek made." Maau was even more redder in embarrassment. He could bearly bear to look at the guests at how embarrassed he was. Kalim just patted his shoulder. "Ah... Excuse Maau... He's a bit shy! But he's a fun guy to be around!" Kalim beamed.

Great! Now he was being excused by someone else. Bless Kalim for being so kind, but also Maau had to take a grip on his behavior.

But Kalim struck a conversation with Lilia and Silver, drifting off from the group as they all waited for the food. It was a chatter and a bit of party in between scarabia students. Maau did note how they all acted as if on thin ice once Malleus arrived, but still had the liberty to chat in between them and party.

Jamil told Maau to be a good host. And a good host made sure their guests were somewhat entertained. Now, to entertain the guests, Maau had to strike a conversation. The problem was: Maau was the least capable person of doing such thing. Usually Kalim or Jamil would do it for him, or he would silently tap the person he wanted to communicate with, to show the board with the message.

But even touching Malleus Draconia would probably sentence Maau to death or prison. Whichever fancies him more.

So his second option was Sebek. Taking his courage, Maau scribbled something on the whiteboard. He thought for a bit, before erasing it and writing something else.

And this didn't go unnoticed by Malleus or Sebek. The black marker on the whiteboard didn't make too much sound, but that faith squeak was still present anyway. Noticing the stares, Maau immediately hurried and showed the whiteboard to the 2.

'You don't seem to enjoy yourselves...'

"On the contrary, I do enjoy my time in here." Malleus replied. "Although I must say, your unique way of communication is quite ironic, considering you are capable of speech." the Fae noted. Maau wiped the board as he wrote again.

'It's difficult for me to talk coherently...'

"Ah... A lack of coherent speech... I believe I heard Lilia talk in an incoherent speech pattern before. I still don't understand what 'yeet' means..." Malleus confessed. "I have searched all the dictionaries in the library, yet I failed to find such answer..." Sebek added. Maau had to write a bit more the message he was meaning.

'Your Vice is using 'slang', but still talks coherently. By the way: Yeet=To throw something'

"So this is what this vexing word truly means... I see... You proved to be again generous, child of man..." Malleus praised. "You should be honored to receive such praise from wakasama!" Sebek declared. Maau frowned, but nonetheless, wrote again on the board.

'there are a few slang dictionaries on the internet... Those are much more accurate and come with examples.'

"I am afraid I am quite foreign on how this 'internet' works..." Malleus mumbled, before the Fae seemed to have an idea. Maau was ready to cower away and run once he saw the plotting smile of the prince. Was he mean? Did Malleus see him as unworthy of his time? Or was he considered a lowly human?

Malleus tho, flicked his fingers, a spark flying at Maau's bandaged hand, removing them as his wound from alchemy was suddenly gone. "Consider this... A small repayment for your invitation and for the warm welcome you bestowed upon us." He mused. Just in time, the food came, so everyone had to sit at the table and eat.

Maau picked for himself a bit of food. All the emotions made his appetite smaller than a mosquito, the tall boy simply munching on his food slowly, to make it seem at least like he was eating much more.

There was way too much silence. Yesterday it was an unbearable chatter, now it's way too awkward.

Jamil only exhaled as he stood on Kalim's right side, Maau next to the vice. It seemed like out of everyone, Sebek didn't seem to handle that well the spicy food.

So Maau scribbled on his board, showing it to Sebek who was getting redder in the face than usual.

'Are you OK?'

"Of course I am alright, human!" Sebek declared, although it was clear on how tears built up in his eyes that he couldn't handle the spiciness. Maau tho, rose a brow at that, scribbling some more.

'You tear up... And your face is all red... Do you want a glass of milk?'

"Now why would milk help?" Sebek asked with a raised brow. "Maau has a sensitive tongue, so he doesn't like too much spice like Kalim..." Jamil intervened. "fetch a glass of milk, Maau." He demanded. "Y-yes, Jamil..." The boy rose up and went to the kitchen, returning quickly with the glass in question. Sebek seemed to deny his previous statement of being alright once he drowned in one go the entire glass.

"My my... Sebek... It looks like you can't handle spices... Ah then I shouldn't cook your dinner with spices anymore... But then again... More wiser would be for you to go to the cafeteria and get yourself something for dinner... I can't sacrifice dinner time for the whole dorm just for one student..." Lilia piped in. "Ah! There is no need, master Lilia! I would love anything you cook for me..." Sebek was quick to shot down the offer. "Oh no no! I insist! And it's final!" Lilia mused with a smile.

Unknown to Sebek, Malleus and Silver exchanged jealous looks. How come Sebek gets a pass from Lilia's dinner?!

Maau tho, seemed to notice it, but he only lowered his head and minded his own food.

Once the dinner was over, the guests had to leave. Malleus was stoic, but the happy tone he used when he formally thanked for the invitation obviously betrayed him.

Maau was left alone after that. The first year was more than done with everything. He was tired both physically and emotionally.

So plopping onto his bed, Maau didn't even bother to change or even consider his unfinished homework.

He will just sleep and home tomorrow people won't misinterpret things again.

~~~~~~

My boy! Happy birthday! :3c

Honestly I don't really touch upon my oc/yuusona, but at least on their b-day I can dedicate a bit for them.

So for now! Buh bye!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #scarabia oc #Maau Al-Chagai #HBD to my boy! :D

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