#this is an old fuck who does not give a shit about pet dog sensibilities

[grison-in-space]

okay so I wanted to show @coffee-mage-sans-caffeine some terrible field Beagle stacks, so that they could see how uncomfortable the dogs look, and therefore I went hunting for field rabbit beagle kennels.

I turned up one pet "rare color" breeder and one that turned out to be a breed-specific article from a fucking content mill. Which: Gross. But the third one actually was a field rabbit-hunting beagle breeder, one who had the most good ol' boy [appreciative] blog description of his goals I've seen in a very long time:

Woodpont Beagles are a pack of dual-purpose (show and field bred) hunting hounds located in Southern Ohio, USA.  Some of our female lines now stretch back as many as 16 generations, spanning nearly 40 years.  Hounds from this kennel have been very successful in the past at field trials and shows, although the primary focus the past 20 years has been on pack work after cottontail rabbit or snowshoe hare. 

[...]

Feel free to contact us if this sounds like the type of hound for you.  Not everyone likes the same kind of beagle.  If your interest is field trials, or showing, you may want to keep looking.  If you want good, honest hounds for pack work or gunning, these just may suit you.  Puppies occasionally available.

Like, you know that is an old white man with the most rural of backgrounds and interests. His philosophy is fantastic, mind you, the dogs themselves are a blend of conformation and working beagle lines with the goal of maintaining the best of both worlds, if I wanted a beagle or to hunt rabbits I'd be on that man's doorstep in a heartbeat. I'm reading his stuff and I'm watching very carefully, and I see a post title and pre-emptively flinch:

Immediately what pops into my head is QAnon and hideous right-wing politics have invaded all kinds of circles over the years, and look I was starting to really like this guy, his opinions about working hounds are kickass, and oh no he's going to take time out of his day to make it clear he thinks people like me are scum--what does it read--oh no, oh no, what is it gonna say--

Things You Will Not See Here

Hounds with No Show Blood

Hounds with No Field Blood

Hounds in above ground kennels (i.e., raised on wire rather than being reared on the ground. always. no stacking kennels or god forbid runs.) ...

Yeah. Okay. I can live with this. It's a website straight out of 2013 (or 2003) rather than 2023. And oh, what a breath of fresh air the blog is!

#dogs #dogblr #I really do encourage anyone who thinks about working-bred dogs vs show-bred dogs to come and have a look at this #because this is what an awful lot of the best working-bred old-time breeders sound like #and shaking his fingers judgily about wire kennels and stacked kennels so cleaning is easier #but also you note he doesn't frame that as an unthinkable and immoral act of animal cruelty #he frames it as something only a lazy backwards asshole would do #and actually he associates all above ground kennels with the wire floor kennels which are infamous #which further jolts anyone in his audience of beaglers thinking that above ground kennels are a great innovation #into going !! ugh #should distance MYSELF from that! #and if there's some pressing critical reason the kennels are necessary it's a goad to get your dogs--yes even young puppies--out onto groun #as much as humanly possible #then he starts lecturing beaglers on kennel care and shows off his spotless kennels #this is an old fuck who does not give a shit about pet dog sensibilities #but he DOES give a shit about running dogs that are capable of serving their intended purpose #and treating them well and fairly

[serifsans]

Vladimir walks into Jean-Paul's apartment to find the vaporvolph sniffling while eating homemade frosting out of a bowl. It looks surprisingly good, actually, and Vladimir feels a little rush of pride because hell yeah, his partner-in-crime made something in spite of the fact that they have enormous self-doubt about their ability to create anything worthwhile. Paulie usually doesn't attempt anything more complex than (vegan) eggs and maybe pancakes if they're feeling daring. JP considers their ability to order out a sign they've not only made it as a human being but also a personal fuck you to everyone who was ever cruel to them when they were homeless.

"Hey, what's the matter? You're going to get tears in that bowl," he says. JP told him on the phone that he fucked up something horrendously but didn't elaborate. Knowing JP, she could have either been caught shoplifting or he fucked up his nail polish. Vlad doesn't know why they keep on doing their own nail polish when he does a better job of doing their nails. Actually, he also doesn't understand why JP will throw their money around on everything else but absolutely refuses to go in and get a manicure.

"I'm a failure," they say around a mouthful of frosting, the most dejected look possible on their face. Vladimir locks the door and then sits beside them on the couch, JP immediately burying their face against his chest for comfort and because they're a pec man. Vladimir welcomes this.

"Come on now, you're not a failure. What happened?"

He pets JP's hair soothingly and his ears pop out, the boundaries of his pink ears shifting with color in a way that used to give him a headache if he focused on it too long. He's used to it now, even though JP rarely shows off his ears and tail and flat-out refuses to let him look at him in his natural state if he can help it, even though Vladimir's seen him before volph-like and he's so fucking adorable.

Vladimir does not give them ear scritches. His soul cries out for it but he doesn't want to treat his cute alien boyfriend like a dog because that's kind of fucked up. JP redirects his hand to their ears. They're so soft and velvety and it's so fantastic that he'd cry if he didn't have to be strong in the face of JP's great tragedy. Life is good sometimes.

"My mother was right," they sniffle. "I'll never be able to keep up a household. I can't even bake a cake. It has instructions on the side of the box, Vladimir. How could I fuck something up so basic?"

He gives his ears a real good rub. A pink tail makes itself known and thumps against the sofa. They are so fucking cute.

"These things are hard, my love. You cannot get them right on the first try, sometimes not the fifth. Also, fuck that woman."

JP lets out a sad little sound of disbelief and mashes their face further against his chest. Vladimir has the distinct feeling how JP might need to be comforted through the terrible trauma of messing up a cake and he is perfectly fine with that.

"I'm older than this solar system and I can't do simple tasks. I can't provide for anyone. I'm a mess of a human, darling. I used to be so put-together and now I need you to solve all my problems. It's not fair to you."

Okay, so this is definitely not really about a cake. Most things with JP aren't about what JP thinks they're about: the impulse purchases, their petty grudges against people they barely know, their insistence on wearing a suit at all possible times.

"You've solved a lot of my problems. I can solve some of yours," he replies. "Besides, solving problems for people is kind of sexy, don't you think?"

The earns a snort and another thump of a tail against the sofa.

"Maybe a little," they say.

They gather in the kitchen to inspect the problem: a still-warm cake still sitting in the cake pan. It looks a little funny, like maybe JP threw a bunch of flavors into it, which is probably the case. It's probably still good though.

"I greased it with butter like they said but I just can't get it out of the pan," Jean-Paul explains, his tail drooping.

Okay. Okay, this isn't a big deal. It's just a cake. Vladimir can solve it. Jean-Paul has the weak arms of a baby even though they can make themself buff at any time, so they probably weren't applying enough force.

Vlad picks it up, turns it upside down, and gives it a good thump because that seems right. Probably. Vlad doesn't bake but it can't possibly be that hard.

The cake doesn't budge. He thumps it again. Still nothing. A third time. Nothing again. Okay, Vladimir's got a pretty strong arm because he lifts for fun, so this has got to be a pretty powerful cake right here.

"I already tried that. It's stuck."

"It's just a cake. How hard can it be? Do not worry, I will get it out. Do not fret, my dear Mr. Poinsette."

Vladimir does not get it out, no matter how hard he thumps it. It has defeated him. His hand kind of hurts even though it's just a dinky little cake pan made of aluminum or some shit. He hopes this isn't an indication that he's getting old but he's sixty, so he guesses he is old now.

He tries not to think about his advancing age too much. Mortality is unpleasant. If someone offered him the chance for immortality, he'd take it in an instant. Humanity's highly overrated.

"It's fucked, darling. I'm going to have to throw the whole thing out, aren't I? And I spent my entire paycheck on baking supplies."

Okay, they're definitely going to have a conversation about that because Jean-Paul's throwing his money away left and right on frivolous things lately and that usually means he's going to spiral down into one of his bleak moods, but that's going to wait a bit.

"No, I'm going to get this," Vladimir declares. "Hold on."

He takes a detour to the closet for a second and returns with something that's sure to get that stubborn cake out if he can't rely on his own arm.

"I'm sorry, darling, is that a hammer?"

He doesn't understand why JP's looking at him aghast. It just needs to be thumped real hard.

"It's a mallet. Do not worry, I will be gentle with it. I won't dent it."

This is a really good idea. Vladimir's helping. He feels so proud of himself for his ingenuity.

"No, absolutely not, you're not taking a mallet to my cake."

"I'd be taking it to the cake pan," Vladimir says, which is the wrong thing to say. Paulie snatches up the mallet and shoves it into the junk drawer, which is not where tools go but whatever, this is JP's place, they can do whatever they want.

"Nope, we're done here. I'm throwing in the towel. My cake's a failure," Jean-Paul declares as he moves to throw it away.

"No, no, I can still save this. Let me save this."

He can tell by the look in their eyes that they don't actually believe their mistake can be salvaged but they let him try anyway. He can pry this out with a knife. He's pretty sure that's a thing people do, right? It doesn't look nonstick, so it should be fine. Vladimir will provide for his greedy little alien. This is a test not only of his ability as a partner but his very manhood itself.

His gaze falls on a novelty paw-shaped spatula. This has to be better than a knife: more surface area. He brandishes it like a weapon.

"Don't eat all the frosting," he says. "We're going to save this cake."

Vlad takes the spatula and carefully slides the spatula in between the cake and the pan to loosen it. He's doing it. He's freeing this cake. When he's done, he flips it over and half of it falls off onto the waiting plate below while the rest remains behind.

Oh. That isn't right.

"Well, we tried," JP says with a sigh. "The only thing left is to throw it all away, I guess. I'm never doing this again. Baking's overrated."

Maybe this can still be saved.

"Hey, no, listen to me: it's still good. Just put some icing on top and some ice cream and say it's a crumble. Maybe don't take it to your party though."

The icing immediately melts off because the cake's still too warm. JP throws way too much ice cream on it because of his innate volph sensibilities. The cake/crumble is too moist and tastes a little like pistachio pudding. It's not great but he's not going to say that.

Vladimir still eats every bite.

#ooc #drabble

[dustyhyena]

“i love them sm and will talk about them forever if enabled” this is me enabling u to talk about your agents 👁👁

AHHHH no duuude youre gonna open pandora’s box bro!!!!!!

OK NO BUT FR... thank u for enabling me im about to infodump 

i dont know exactly what to say abt them but i will drop some random facts about them!

august (agent 3, she/they)-

- tries really hard to be the edgy loner type but is one of the biggest nerds out there. she’s still reserved but will geek out about old video games

- on top of that she’s really good at math somehow? was an honors student and juggling agent duties on top of that was nightmarish so she had to take a break. it led to some issues...

- theyre a firefly squid! the spots on their tentacles glow brighter than most inklings and also glow depending on the intensity of their mood

- they make music sometimes and has tried to keep it a secret from everyone but unfortunately for them, riptide is a nosy little shit and found out

- speaking of riptide, she and august met earlier on and riptide didnt know that august was a secret agent until after the events of kamabo!

- her default ink color used to be more of a blood-orange to fit her name

- she ventures back down to kamabo a lot to find a bunch of lost trinkets. she’s a little interested in archeology. (by archeology i mean a bunch of ancient human relics like old recovered music and technology)

- her favorite game is earthbound im not projecting im not projec

- between her and riptide she’s supposed to be the sensible one but she’s literally dumbass #2

riptide (agent 4, she/her)-

- doubles as my inksona (which im debating on changing, but i project onto her the most)! shes dumbass and im dumbass

- has a little brother named calder who she teaches how to skate. insists that he call her “cousin/instructor throckmorton” during their lessons

- she’s the kind of squid that needs people but is also afraid of people at the same time? if that makes sense.

- she’s actually pretty self concious about herself and her skills but tries not to think abt it too much

- her favorite color used to be orange! her tentacles were orange and a lot longer when she was a kid

- SHE LOVES FROGS. frogs are her favorite animal and holding one brings her instant serotonin. (when august found out about this she immedaitely showed her mother 3 and riptide lost her MIND)

- she has a pet nudibranch who she and her brother named “nacho” from a young age (i like to think in this universe, nudibranches/sea slugs function the same as dogs) and this is what nacho looks like

jay (agent 8, she/her)

- her personality is kind of a work in progress bc theres a lot i want her to be but shes usually the soft-spoken type (unless something gets her excited)

- SHE LOVES BIRDS. birds are how she chose her name! she just enjoys all the different calls and colors they all have, and how they were able to survive the rising sea levels.

- she’s a mix between the pacific reef octopus and the mimic octopus! she uses her pacific reef abilities to sometimes camoflauge with her surroundings when she feels really threatened. she has the lines on her tentacles a mimic octopus does but its mostly just for show. the most she can do is create a faux inkling mask (like the line that inklings have on the bridge of their noses)

- and by that extension SHE LOVES ANIMALS. jay’s usually the sensible and level-headed type, but that flies out of the window whenever she sees a cute sea bunny or bird.

- if you give her some sort of task, jay’s the kind of octoling who won’t stop until she’s sure it’s completed. she’ll overwork herself if given the chance

- i love the idea of her actually getting really into warrior cats and august (who used to be really into it when they were a little kid) is trying everything in their power not to look like a nerd in front of their crush so jay’s like “hey have you heard about this book?” and august is just like “whos bramblestar haha that’s a dumb name for a leader” completely unprompted

shep (agent 8... 2! (also jokingly called agent 9), he/him)

- he’s the oldest of the agents and is somehow the most AND least responsible

- he’s a dumbo octoling! his ears are just a little floppier and are more sensitive to sound.

- i havent shown him here yet, which is a crime, but he’s the most charismatic and outgoing of all three of the agents. sort of the older brother friend-type. he’s very busy though so he’s usually around like 60% of the time. he’s on a team!

- he can be a little overbearing at times but he’ll back off when you tell him to!

- absolutely curious about EVERYTHING

- he got his left arm fucked up from a sanitization incident down in kamabo. it didn’t affect him too bad but it made it so he couldn’t participate in any of the tests since the sanitized ink would mix with his own. he had to rely on jay down there and it led to a lot of conflict.

- but the second he was able to (and when the sanitized ink was no longer in his system), he went ALL OUT on turf and ranked. he managed to save up enough money so he and jay could get their own place as sort of a way to pay her back for getting everyone out of kamabo by herself essentially

- he works part time in a music store and from that he realized my fucking god he loves music. and parties! if you ask him to throw a party, he Will.

in conclusion:

#dusty.txt #OH MY GOD HOW DID IT GET THIS LONG IM SO SORRY FUCK AJHHFIWUTWHBJFJ #splatoon #august #jay #riptide #shep #(since i technically talked abt him) #I HAVE REF SHEETS FOR THEM I SHOULD POST THEM AHHHHHH #melon-official

[askthecivilian]

Splint Ends

(or Laptop’s official story submission this semester and thinly veiled Omega/Civilian fanfiction)

Christa hadn't realized she liked girls until she met Alex.

Perhaps “met” is too simple of a word.

Christa hadn’t realized she like girls until, on an early morning in Brooklyn, she bulldozed straight through an unsuspecting woman, mid-stride, after not looking where she was going and knocked them both flat on the slightly damp concrete.

She had apologized profusely, helping the other woman to her feet. A quick smile, then off she ran, ignoring the fluttering feeling in her chest. Couldn’t be late. She had barely gotten this secretary job as is.

The next day she promptly almost did it again, but the blonde woman quickly side-stepped and winked, humor lighting up her countenance. Christa just about died of embarrassment but ran on, the heat in her cheeks mixing with the pink flush the chill air whipped up. How the other woman was wearing shorts and a t-shirt in the autumn chill, she had no idea.

It took her a month of running past her on the same route to work up the courage to talk to her. “Alex,” she learned.

It took another month of casual talk and quick meet-ups on the street to agree to meet more often.

Three months later, Christa realized she was completely and totally in love.

The moment her boss realized, she was quickly and quietly fired from her job.

Christa hadn’t realized that her existence was a dirty thing that needed to be kept secret until she met Alex.

----

Love had always been a strange but familiar concept to Alex.

She loved to run. She loved to live. She loved fresh snow and warm drinks and good cuts of meat.

But she didn’t usually apply love to a person. She wasn’t even sure if she loved herself.

She did like herself. She was scruffy and that was that.

She was sure that her love could be given to anyone if she liked them enough too.

She also knew people thought that was wrong.

Alex had learned from a very young age, in a very small family, in a very small town, in the middle of New Mexico that being a woman, liking women, loving women, and being scruffy were all considered bad things.

Alex decided from a very young age that people were the worst.

Not Christa, though.

---

Christa was good in a way most people never were, Alex thought. She was the type of person that learned your favorite food just to take you to lunch. She’d run odd errands for people with only their gratitude as payment and give what money she made as a secretary at the local publishing house to those who had even less.

Alex thought she was a Woman, with a capital W. Tall and willowy, blue eyes and a shy grin and short black curls that she pinned back behind her ears.

Alex thought she was beautiful and everything she wasn’t.

Christa still had her parents and still had her choice. A choice that Alex’s parents had made for her.

That was fine, though. She would wait for Christa to make her choice.

So when Christa came home one day with a broken look and told her- “I lost my job,” Alex felt horribly furious and horribly guilty and horribly selfish.

---

Alex was bad in a way people never embraced, Christa thought.

She took glee in breaking norms and rules and expectations, but never in a harmful way.

She was the type of person who shoplifted bread and water bottles to take to a friend she’d made living on a street corner. She fed crumbs to pigeons and crows, pet every stray dog or cat she could find and constantly went barefoot in establishments, all with the same rascally grin.

She was unkempt and kept her hair in long golden tangles that Christa gently chided her over. She hated the constraints of “women’s clothing” and had shunned bras and dresses alike altogether. She embraced the new age with open arms and eagerly took to New York and the chaos it enveloped and the change it promised like a mutt to a muddy puddle.

She was so comfortable in being herself that Christa envied her. She was a wild force of nature.

And Christa didn’t know how she had gotten so lucky to have her.

---

There were worse places to live than New York.

Sure, the weather was usually awful and traffic was hellish and the concrete jungle was generally  underwhelming to fault. But Christa knew the streets of Brooklyn like the back of her hand, and the rough calluses and contours of Alex’s hand as well as her well-trod paths of the streets.

Snow was heavy this year and their walk back to their apartment from a rare breakfast out was cold and slushy, both women bundled up, Christa significantly more so than Alex.

“I don’t get it,” Christa complained, blowing on her fingers. “You were born in New Mexico. How are you not cold?!”

Alex grinned up at her, breath misting around her face, and stole one of her mitten-ed hands, letting the warmth seep back into the cloth and chilled flesh as she held it.

“Warm blooded, I guess.”

Few people were out, most of them sensible and avoiding tramping about in the middle of December. The paused on a street corner, a newspaper stand close by, making Christa’s face pinch a bit in a bad memory before smoothing the bitterness away.

“Did you hear about the APA ruling?”

Another pair was out, two young men leaning around the newspaper stand, shuffling feet and making small talk to keep warm. Christa absentmindedly listened in as she scanned over the days headlines.

“The one about homos? Yeah. What a load of shit, huh? Faggots will be breeding like crazy now.” The taller one laughed, making a crude hand gesture through his neat leather gloves. “Not a mental illness, my ass.”

Christa’s heart stuttered. She stared at the blurred black and white paper in front of her, familiar pain bleeding up her throat. Alex’s hand froze in her grip as she went still as well, tense energy running down her arm.

“It ain’t natural,” the other agreed, nodding. The tips of his blonde hair curled over his coat collar. “They gonna ask us to fuck dogs next?”

Their dual laughter was raucous and chilling in their genuine amusement.

Alex moved just as the original speaker began his next story, of the “she-male” he’d “shown the light to” behind the bar on 5th. She pulled Christa onwards with quick, seething strides, away from ignorance and hatred that she couldn’t truly protect her from, no matter how hard she tried.

Christa had cried on the day the ruling came out, in their local gay bar, filled to the brim with exuberant cheer and good friends as they celebrated the small victory. Now, she felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

She felt small and afraid.

Christa didn’t hold Alex’s hand the rest of the way home.

---

“Have you ever thought about putting a little more effort into how you look? Lean your head forwards.”

Alex hummed noncommittally as she complied. “What, beyond this haircut? Nah, not really. How short is it going?”

Christa chewed her lip thoughtfully, winding a thick golden lock through her fingers before gently snipping the dry and harsh ends.

“I was thinking to about here,” she said to Alex’s reflection, marking a spot on her mostly-bare collarbone with a light tap. The sun highlighted the movement of her fingers, streaming through the minuscule glass window. Early morning birds could be heard, including the old demanding crow that lived on the roof next to theirs and had learned to tolerate them because of the snacks they plied his favor with. “Long enough to pull back but it shouldn’t get in the way too much. And maybe you should.”

Alex snorted and twitched at the feeling of the comb running through some unchecked tangles.

“I’m serious! I’m not talking about getting dolled up on a regular basis. That’s not you, and I’d never try to change that.” Christa brushed a few fallen clumps of hair off of the towel and let them fall to the floor to be swept up later. Alex really had a thick head of hair that practically overtook her small frame when allowed to roam free and wild as per her usual style.

“But-” she hesitated, lowering the scissors momentarily and resting her hand on Alex’s head. “I know that sometimes it's hard to be yourself.” She ran her fingers through her own thick black curls and met Alex’s eyes in the spotty reflection of the old mirror they shared in their apartment. “Especially when the world doesn’t want us to be ourselves. And sometimes… well it makes me feel better to change to person in the mirror when it feels like I can’t change anything else.”

Alex sighed and caught Christa’s hand as she raised the scissors again to return to her work. “I’m not going anywhere, Bambi.”

“I know! I just- I don’t want to lose you.”

“Hey,” Alex twisted in the chair, reaching up to gently embrace Christa’s face, frowning when she bit her lip and glanced away.  Alex’s voice was low and almost feral as she said her piece.

“The world can go fuck themselves. I love you. And you know me,” she huffed wryly for a moment. “ I don’t say that lightly.”

Christa nodded silently, gently turning Alex’s head back to the front so she could tug some more snarls out of her hair, the roughness of the strokes betraying her tumultuous feelings on the conversation.

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, the broad tones of her home city mingling with the stillness of outside. Brooklyn and New Mexico were an odd mix, but Alex thought they were fitting.

She and Christa were like that. The hustle and bustle and the vast spaces of nothingness, intertwined. City and wilderness. Christa, on one of the very few times she had let Alex get her drunk, had compared the two of them in that way.

“You’re like my wolf,” she had giggled, barely remembering to speak English through the cheap vodka Alex had stolen from a friend of hers. “My pretty blonde wolf, hunting the poor little deer. You caught me so… so fast!”

“Does that make you a literal Bambi Lesbian?” Alex had cackled in return. And Christa had laughed, tossing her head back, the soft pale skin of her neck and shoulders exposed and gleaming in the dim fluorescent lighting of their apartment.

It had not been the first, or the last time Alex had kissed her, but it perhaps was one of the more memorable.

“It’s 1973, Alex. We’re living in the modern day and-” here Christa’s voice cracked, a hairline fracture in her steady speech “-and I’m terrified. I’m afraid of what could happen- to me, to you, to anyone else we know. Jane got in a fight last week on the way home because someone jumped Ludwig on his way home. And you heard about the murders further down south.”

Her hands slowly gripped through the hair on Alex’s scalp, just shy of painful.

“Why is it wrong to be us?”

Alex hesitated, taking care to gently form her words before releasing them.

“Well, what do you believe?”

Christa’s fingers stilled.

“What?”

“What do you believe?” Alex asked again, trying to keep the steel out of her tone. She hated the world sometimes, hated that religion was so often used to justify hatred over differences. Hated that being different because of who and how you loved was something they saw people being killed over. “You’re Jewish. What does your faith give you about homosexuality?”

The silence was palpable, filtered only by the occasional rough caw out the window.

“We believe that we all deserve love,” Christa whispered. “And that we are not responsible for that in which we had no choice. Everyone deserves that much.”

Faith is difficult. You are not always what you believe. But, maybe sometimes you can believe in who you are.

Alex turned in her seat, ignoring the wet sheen in Christa’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around her, trying to put all the emotions that she didn't know how to word into that simple touch.

“I guess it’s easier for me,” Alex admitted into the shoulder of Christa’s shirt. “I only see the world as plainly as it appears.” She pulled back momentarily and gestured at the sunlight making dappled patterns on the faded tile. “I see the sun and the sky, the trees and the animals, and I see us in them. And if they exist, why can’t we? How could loving you-” she gripped her girlfriend tighter- “be wrong?”

Christa’s head was bowed, dark curls brushing Alex’s nose as her breathing hitched quietly with all the emotions she was swallowing.

“I… don’t understand your God,” Alex admitted rather awkwardly. She shook her head, mussing both her hair and her thoughts. “ But what about Jeremy? Or V? Jessica? We’ve gone to parties with them. I’ve had way too many drinks with Illystria and caught pigeons with Joseph and watched Mari punch and kiss her husband in the same minute. We’re just people, Christa. We do exist. We’ve found our people here.” She bit her lip, wistful smile creeping its way up her face. “Maybe today is not the best. But… there’s always tomorrow. Look how far we’ve come from Stonewall. From just this year!” Alex pulled Christa closer, gently pressing their foreheads together. “The world is what it is. I’m just grateful I’ve found a place to be myself in.”

Because it’s with you, was the phrase neither of them needed to say.

Christa’s laugh was watery.

“I haven’t ever told my parents yet.”

“When you do, I’ll be here right besides you.”

And just like that, the tension in the bathroom broke and washed away like the icy runoff that spilled from frozen rivers after spring had spread her warm wings over the mountain’s peak.

Christa’s hands were warm and solid on the small of her back.

Quick fingers momentarily tugged Alex’s shirt before sweeping her hair off to the side.

“We really do need to get you some non-shredded clothes, though.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Schatz, there's holes in everything. Didn’t this shirt use to be pink?

Alex pouted theatrically, earning a slight giggle from Christa as she ruffled the blond bangs still falling unchecked into her face. “You’re picking on me today…”

Christa pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, smiling.

“What, me? Never.”

---

It took time. Change and acceptance are precious gems that are to be cherished and allowed to grow.

But then there was one Hanukkah in a small house in Brooklyn.

“Chag Urim Sameach, Mama und Papa. This is my girlfriend, Alex.”

People mentioned in this story! Because I couldn’t resist.

The Civilian: mine

The Omega: @teamfortressaswell

The Pilot (Jessica): @jessicapilot

The Contractor (V): @marveloustf2

The Helper (Illystria): @askhelper

The Pigeoneer (Joseph): @gwalleyvv

The Melee and the Mafia (Mari and her husband): @tangy-original-sunny-d

#civilian #omega #fanfic

[thewitchqueen281]

Experiment 808 AU

Hey so I did actually have someone show some interest in this AU, but I’m awful at formatting so I'm just making a separate text post. Read about each character under the cut. A bit about the setting. It’s pretty distant future, this big lab in the middle of the city was commissioned to make a ton of super soldiers. Not knowing where to start they just... started kidnapping kids. Like from their cribs and everything. Not legal but they can like start from scratch there. By the time most of them are ten they’ve been tortured and beaten and do not want to be there. So they just escape. Because like what are they going to do to stop a bunch of kids with powers.  They run free into the city. They stay hidden in bunkers and hideouts. They are all about 15~16 ish. I haven't decided whether or not Al is still a year younger or if they are twins so, for now, its up too you. 

Anyway, enjoy these stupid teens.

Ed 

Has gills on his neck and sides, and dragonfly wings.

the wings are red and while he can fly fast can’t fly for a very long time. 

Instead of his traditional black tank top and coat, he wears one of those knit sleeveless turtleneck things with his red coat that ties around in the front.

Anyone with gills is bioluminescent underwater, he glows red in his face and all around his arms.

he wears a different outfit because it hides his wings and his gills. 

still kind of a little shit. 

knows all the other kids, is friends with most of them surprisingly. 

lives with his brother, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeyes, and Denny Brosh in an abandoned library on the west side of the city. Because they are the kids he trusts the most.

he would live with Ling, Lan Fan, and Winry. But Ling and Lan Fan don't really live anywhere and Winry travels between all the kid's hideouts making sure they didn't break anything.

Likes knives, like really really likes knives

has like twenty on him at all times. 

he actually meets Ling by throwing a knife at him and getting really pissed that he missed. 

Roy Mustang 

Has a salamander tail, sometimes breaths a small bit of fire. 

Doesn't really like people at all. 

is four ten and has a lisp and you can pry this headcanon away from my cold dead hands. 

frequent all-nighters, whether playing video games or trying to master fire breath. 

Wears really baggy cargo pants, he likes the pockets. 

has a haircut with two very long pieces of hair in the front and kinda shitty bangs. 

he regrets this haircut. 

he’s best friends with Riza and Ed because Riza and Ed are also wild kids who won't stop him from jumping off really high places or putting bugs in Al’s tea. 

Likes lollypops, no one is sure why he just thinks they taste nice. 

huge crush on Jean Havoc from the group uptown, The others make fun of him. 

Riza Hawkeye 

Has a cheetah tail and likes to R U N

She's a very fast girl, for a long time everyone thought that was one of the abilities given to her during her time in the lab.

it's not  

she just likes to run. 

despite being a wild teen is the second most sensible one in their group. Has had to drag Roy to bed, but almost everyone has had to do that once or twice.

cant cook for shit. like really. she hates cooking shes so bad at it. 

everyone expects her to be the mom for some reason like they think she cooks and cleans. 

shed rather die, Ed cooks, they take shifts cleaning.

loves long skirts and horror novels. 

likes to think she can talk to ghosts or summon demons. 

or maybe she can. 

nobody really knows. 

Talks to herself on occasion. 

Al 

Has gills like his brother. Very small antlers as well.

glows blue underwater near his ears and around his legs. He and his brother have matching symbols on their backs.  

wears a blue hoodie to cover the antlers. 

The actual Mom Friend TM 

Enjoys tea and not having to deal with his brother and CO’s bullshit. 

for once would like to sleep in. just once. 

Would be a wine mom but he is responsible and doesn't drink while underage, unlike almost all of his friends who really don't seem to give a shit.

Sassy, like, really sassy. 

bad at hiding his emotions. 

you will know when he thinks your being a dumbass.

*looks into the camera like he's on the office* 

“Al me and the others are going to jump off the top of the building and see with we can stop ourselves.” “Good luck brother.”

Is friends with everyone and really he loves them all but goddamn. 

One time Ed dated a real shit head and you don't want to know what happened after he dumped Ed. he isn't dead but he won't be walking anytime soon.

Denny Brosh

Has Squid tentacles under his arms and fins on his legs. He glows a bright yellow underwater. 

Knits, like a lot. Every one of them has a homemade sweater from him. the others he lives with wear theirs all the time. Because they do gross things like care about one another in this household. 

Is still really good friends with Maria Ross, he wishes they saw each other more. 

can and will shock you with his tentacles, especially if you make jokes about them. 

Meme dream team leader. 

Al doesn't understand memes and Denny hurts every day because of this. 

has a bright yellow sweater that he knitted himself and then had every single one of his friend sign.

Thinks Kain Furey is super cute. Roy thinks he's super gross because Furey is an innocent Denny!

wholesome meme some days sex jokes on others. 

pretty much all the kids have pretty severe mental health issues, but Denny is one of the few who has tried to help his. 

takes anxiety meds. 

while he doesn't have any sibling this timeline he has his friends and honestly they are pretty close to siblings. 

has called Ed big brother but like everyone has once or twice. Ed doesn't really give a shit and has accepted his fate as the oldest and apparently the most brother like. 

Maria Ross 

Lots a scales, like all over her body. 

has wings but she isn't sure what animal they could be from.

they are big and scaley like her. 

Lives with Olivier, Mei Chang, Sheska, and Winry Rockbell when she's around. They live in an old dinner on the east side of town. 

Would date Sheska 100%. 

Sorta has claws, doesn't matter she enjoys painting them. 

Good friends with Olivier, actually best friends. This is a problem in some ways because Olivier and Denny don’t get along at all. 

Has a gun, only used it once or twice to protect her friends. 

she hopes she never has to use it again.

Sometimes wonders what her family would be like if she hadn't grown up in a lab. Wonders whether of not her family sold her or if she was stolen. She wonders for the other kids as well.

Breaths and cries ice. 

prefers if her friends called her Ria 

Olivier Armstrong  

This bitch got bat wings

they are fucking huge. 

she can’t really hide them so she only goes outside at night. 

she has become a cryptid. 

blurry shitty pictures of her crouching on buildings wings extended, her eyes glowing are all over forums. 

Batgirl strikes again?? 

she thinks its super funny. 

Doesn't really try to hide how she's feeling. 

most of the time she’s Arragont or amused.

Anime character tch. 

Her list of people she dislikes is bigger than the list of people she likes. 

that's a lie she loves all her friend's

she’s just bad about showing it and claims to hate them. 

everyone calls her Livi. 

she hates it but nobody cares. 

keeps her hair in a ponytail.

Mei Chang

has a cat tail, and night vision.

Please don't make any jokes. 

she doesn't want this.

People sometimes pull her tail. they only pull it once though. People learn from their mistakes.

wears a big pink coat with lots of pockets. she keeps both dead mice and her kunai in the pockets. 

Is Winrys assistant when she's around.

loves to help. is crushing on Al from the west side library. Everyone knows but Al. Ed and Ling think that is hilarious. Like it didn't take them months to get over themselves. 

Ling is her half-brother. She isn't sure how trustworthy the info is because it’s something she heard from lab technicians. 

Wants to learn to fight better but nobody wants to spar with her. 

Sit’s up at night and stares at her coffee. 

it’s cold now but she can’t get to sleep. 

Winry Rockbell 

Has butterfly wings, emperor butterfly wings. They don't make her as fast as Ed but it is faster to fly than to walk and she can fly for pretty long periods of time.

automail isn't really a thing. So Winry does general doctor stuff.

she goes between bases and makes sure that everybody is healthy. 

most of the time that isn't the case so shes pretty much always working.

Thinks Mei is a wonderful helper.  

Wears her signature tube top. doesn't travel through populated areas and definitely doesn't by day.

Butterflygirl isn't as cool as a cryptid as Batgirl so she doesn't get much coverage. 

Will still hit you with a wrench don't test her. 

She carries it and her entire toolbox because she’ll be damned if she loses time for her machines while helping out these idiots.

Dating Mothman. 

Mothman is actually Lan Fan. this joke doesn't make a lot of sense to her because Lan Fan doesn't have moth wings. Ling and Ed tell her to shut up and go with it. She rolls her eyes fondly. 

Kain Fuery 

Has ant antenna. he can send messages across radio waves because of this. makes it easy to keep up with his friends. 

Lives with Jean and Rebbeca in what they think was once a club. It's unused now but it does have an underground bunker for some reason.

He is an innocent 

(He isn't) 

keeps a picture of some dog in his pocket. 

he needs it to keep up morale. 

yes, it is just a stock photo of a dog that he stole out a picture frame at wallmart a couple years ago.

He really likes animals. Ed and Roy hate going out with both him and Al in a pair because both of them insist on stopping to pet every dog and cat or whatever animal.

Functional Bi 

Jean Havoc  

Has fins he thinks. they are like spiky and help him swim better. they are all over his back and wrap around his arms. Has gills, and he tends to glow a bluish purple.  

he lives in the club but prefers to be near the docks. 

Loves to swim

Just call him Jean

Please god just call him Jean. 

Olivier and Maria butchered his last name so bad when he first meet him that he is permanently traumatized. 

he’s being dramatic but like, that's who he is??

Disaster Bi 

Pinning? His constant mood?

Ling Yao

Red panda tail and claws. 

Loves sweet things, like so much.

Can see in the dark, loves his night vision

Thinks Ed throwing knives at him is super hot

Ed is Concerned TM 

Doesn't really live anywhere. 

bounces around the bases with Lan Fan. 

Lan Fan is actually his twin sister but they haven't told Mei that yet.

he doesn't know why people don't just know.

Climbs in Ed’s window in the middle of the night. 

freaked Ed out the first time it happened but he got used to it. 

spars on rooftops in the middle of the day. 

For some reason, nobody seems to freak out. 

Kink is love and appreciation

doesn't actually know most of the other kids. Sometimes there will just be a different kid at the base and He’ll be like cool.

Everone knows about Ling though. 

Lan Fan

She has lunar moth wings. Although Winry seems to think they are from some type of butterfly like her. Ed and Ling know the truth and call her moth man. 

She flicks their faces for it. 

loves food. thinks it must be because lunar moths cant eat, that side of her wants to eat E V E R Y T H I N G. 

Or maybe she just has a huge appetite because Ling eats a ton as well. 

has night vision as well.

Is her last name Fan? Not even she knows. 

Everyone calls her Lan Fan though. 

Spars with Ling but prefers fighting with Ed because Ling holds back. Ed doesn't.

tries so hard not to scream at her friends. 

god, she tries so hard. 

This took so long. If you want to hear about specific characters request it and I’ll make another one of these. If anyone wants to write a fanfic send it to me, I’ll be the first one to kudos that ish.  

#FMA #fma brotherhood #fmab #If you want a character just ask #This was all i could think of at the moment #edling #winfan #mothman joke #jean havoc #roy mustang #edward elric #Alphonse Elric #ling yao #lan fan #riza hawkeye #olivier armstrong #kain fuery #Winry Rockbell #mei chang #maria ross #denny brosh #Experiment 808 #FMA AU

[warriorgays]

!!! could you pls do bradray for the ship ask?

that post I just reblogged reminded me I owed you this from NINETEEN DAYS AGO gosh, sorry, enjoy:

who hogs the duvet: Ray. Pretty sure I’m not the only one to come to this conclusion based on the fact that he wears a hoodie in Kuwait when there are other guys walking around topless.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going: Both of them, but neither will admit it. Brad will send terse updates about his day that are supposedly totally reasonable things (ex. “I’ll be ten minutes late getting home, need to stop at the store” or “haven’t murdered anyone today”) but are secretly because he wants to hear back about how Ray is doing. Ray will send over-the-top cutesy texts and memes that are supposedly just meant to be obnoxious, but secretly for the same reason.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts: Ray gives ridiculous and creative gifts, Brad gives gifts that are sensible and might come across as boring, but are actually very thoughtful and probably exactly what Ray wanted/needed.

who gets up first in the morning: Brad because he still has a job where he has to (hahaaaaa). He will sometimes wake Ray up at the same time out of pure vengeance though.

who suggests new things in bed: Ray suggests new things all the time, mostly as a joke, and would be totally caught off guard if Brad said yes to most of them. Brad is more likely to bring up something he actually wants to do.

who cries at movies: NEITHER OF THEM (brad)

who fusses over the other when they’re sick: Brad doesn’t fuss in the traditional sense--he stares. Like if Ray is in bed with the flu, Brad won’t say “are you too hot? are you too cold? do you need tea? do you need a bucket? should I call the doctor?” but he’ll stand there with his eyes flickering around the room thinking all those things, and then staring intently at Ray trying to decide which one is the most important to actually ask, until Ray tells him off. Ray’s caring but more practical about this kind of thing.

who gets jealous easiest: I’ve definitely answered this for them before, but--Brad gets mildly jealous more often, whereas Ray gets jealous less often but more intensely.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music: They’ll each tell you the other one does. Brad likes old-fashioned music, mostly rock and pop-rock with some light metal thrown in, Ray likes that truly bizarre combination of country, alt-rock, pop, and whatever Limp Bizkit is.

who takes the longest to get ready: The weird thing is that Ray takes more time to get ready on a casual day to day basis, like just deciding what to wear, doing his hair, whatever, but less time on formal occasions when Brad is taking more care with his appearance. Which Brad always finds really confusing.

who is the most tidy and organised: Brad “shag carpet” Colbert, obvs.

who gets most excited about the holidays: Neither of them will display open, sincere excitement about the holidays, because they’re too cool for that. Ray will display over-the-top excitement about the Jewish holidays he’s allowed to make fun of (aka everything except Tisha B’av and the High Holy Days), and genuine excitement about Purim because Purim is fucking awesome. Secretly, though, I think Brad enjoys the holidays more. He thinks a lot of the hype is overdone--will swear a blue streak the second he starts hearing Christmas music in early November--but when it comes down to it, the holidays are about taking care of the people you love and Brad Colbert is All About That.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports: Again, obviously they’re both competitive people. If they’re with friends and everything’s chill, they’re both able to laugh it off; Ray is more likely to let things get personal if there’s any whiff of personal disrespect (as per canon). In that situation Brad’s more likely to turn cold and walk away than to get heated up.

who starts the most arguments: Depends on what you mean by starting arguments. Brad’s more likely to bring up things he’s genuinely irritated/angered by. Ray is more likely to escalate things so that something that wasn’t a big deal becomes a legit argument.

who suggests that they buy a pet: Brad. I think Ray is one of those people who never had a pet growing up who kind of… forgets that once they’re adults they can get one of their own? So they’re out at a park or whatever one day and see a dog and Brad casually asks if Ray would ever be interested in getting a pet and Ray’s like “holy shit!!! we can actually do that!!!” 

what couple traditions they have: The one day they’re not allowed to be overly sarcastic/obnoxious about is their anniversary. Sure, they’ll make a couple of “psh, we’re not one of those cheesy couples” jokes, but there’s a softer edge to them than usual, and they will actually go out to a nice restaurant or one that holds some kind of significance, and it often involves going to the beach. On more than one occasion they’ve ended the day sitting by a bonfire at night, Ray curled up against Brad with Brad’s arm around his shoulder, talking quietly or not at all. (And then obviously they go home and have crazy awesome sex, but still. It’s the closest to actually romantic that they get.)

what tv shows they watch together: They’re both totally into those History Channel shows that your dad/uncle watch--American Pickers, Pawn Stars, How It’s Made, etc. Ray also ironically-unironically watches some overdramatic scripted shows, like soap operas or Grey’s Anatomy or whatever, and will keep Brad updated on what’s going on if Brad is in earshot (he’s never actually watching them, but he’ll go “mmmhm” while working on his computer at the kitchen table or whatnot).

what other couple they hang out with: Poke and his wife win for most frequently, for sure. Of the people who stay local, they do hang out with Rudy, Kocher, and Garza and their respective partners a decent amount, and ALWAYS Walt and his partner when they’re in town. It takes them a little longer to be genuine friends with Nate and his partner, just to get over the kind of stilted “we really do like you but like mostly as a boss” dynamic, but once it happens they do hang out with them a lot, too.

how they spend time together as a couple: I think they’re both pretty busy, hands-on people who take pride in what they do. And obviously they’re super comfortable around each other, right from the start, so while they will do couples activities together, they also spend a decent chunk of time doing their own thing while talking or just sharing the same space.

who made the first move: Brad. I’m increasingly a fan of the “Brad realizes he’s in love with Ray before the reverse” headcanon, and even if I don’t think he would push the way Ray would, I think he would be the first to make a tentative advance or drop a hint.

who brings flowers home: Dear God, no, are you kidding me? (brad)

who is the best cook: Ray! Surprise surprise! Brad just can’t be bothered to put that kind of effort into making food, while Ray genuinely enjoys cooking and sees it as one of those handsy kind of skills, like fixing cars and radios, that he can take pride in.

#bradray #series: gen kill #memes #thatsnotmozarts

[tanzani-coil]

gHANITH PLEASEEEE

yOU’RE THE BEST AAHHH OK

who hogs the duvettanith. you’ll find her in the morning with it wrapped around her, however when she wakes up she’ll always rearrange it so its draping over ghastly too and he’ll wake up for a few seconds to see it and he’ll smile and cuddle her and fall back to sleep again with them both under the covers

who texts/rings to check how their day is goingghASTLY. WITHOUT A DOUBT. i feel as though his average day is a bit less action packed than taniths, so he always has the time to check up on her - and if he doesnt have the time, he MAKES the time (you’ll find tipstaff grumbling about it somewhere)who’s the most creative when it comes to giftsi feel as though ghastly isn’t really into presents much, i mean being 400+ years old i can imagine coming up with presents got a bit old after the first century. and tanith i think on her jobs and journeys comes across like, not ‘gifts’ as such but little knick knacks and thingymabobs that she’ll know ghastly would just LOVE who gets up first in the morningghastly I think has settled into an (unhealthy) routine of going to bed at silly o’clock in the morning after really getting into something he was sewing, but then waking up quite early to start another working day. tanith usually stays up with him, sitting in the back room of his shop with him, both listening to ghastly’s blues playlist while he works, and then both of them going up to bed together at the same time. you wont see her out of bed any time before 9am, though (ghastly always makes her tea in the morning, regardless of whether shes likely to fall back to sleep again and never drink it)who suggests new things in bedyou’d think tanith, being the younger, more experienced one would be bringing new things into the bedroom but my god ghastlys has way more kinks than given credit for and taniths not complaining eitherwho cries at moviesman………… i feel like generally tanith does and as much as she’ll try to hide it ghastly always knowswho gives unprompted massagesTANITH. she’ll come in to the back room of the shop from the kitchen, cup of tea in hand for ghastly, she’ll look at what he’s working on and smile, see that he’s clearly been hunched over it for hours and massage his shoulder muscles. completely unasked for, but ghastly appreciates it all the same. she’ll always peck him on the cheek before leaving toowho fusses over the other when they’re sickghASTLY IS SO OVER TANITH’S HERO COMPLEX. HE DOESNT CARE HOW LONG AND FIERCELY SHE DEFENDS THAT SHE ISNT SICK. HE’LL STILL WRAP HER UP IN BLANKETS AND GIVE HER TEA WITH HONEY IN IT AND MEDICINE AND “STOP BLOODY MOTHERING ME” DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO STOP IT. who gets jealous easiestaight, so like…. i’m gonna struggle to word this but bear with me. (also im really sorry) so like, in mortal coil when erskine is flirting with tanith we clearly see that ghastly got kinda down about it, but i dont think its jealousy?? its more of, whenever someone whos just that much better looking and that much better at everything than ghastly is comes along, ghastly sort of sinks into an instantly hopeless, acceptance and almost numb state and he just sort of gives up at whatever hes talking about, whatever hes doing. because thats just what hes been conditioned to do. 400+ years of constant rejection ALL THE TIME?? hes just learnt that the second someone better comes along, whatever chance he had is gone. the conversation he was having with someone is instantly cut short, and ghastly just doesnt exist anymore. completely invisible. every. time. so i think that rather than getting jealous about it he’s learnt to give up, and i think that it took tanith years to uncondition that response out of him because she’ll never, ever cut him off for someone else, and she’s sure as hell not going anywhere, so?? and everyone can see the transformation too. aight sorry i went on a tangent there but my point is, ghastly doesnt get jealous. tANITH. HOWEVER. MY GOD. when tanith gets jealous she doesnt just get jealous she gets jEALOUS. it takes tanith every ounce of will power not to get snappy defensive and the so, so unnecessary staring-downs. valkyrie never lets it slide and always finds it really, really funny (especially because its so bloody obvious that the jealousy is completely irrational because this is ghastly we’re on about)who has the most embarrassing taste in musicghastly has quite a solid, sensible mature playlist for when hes working or relaxing but tanith is like………….. look its tanith ok who collects something unusualtanith collects thingymabobs from where ever she’s at, but… she sort of leaves them all around the house. the conversations at this point aren’t even questionable anymore. “ghastly don’t suppose you’ve seen my demon-baby tooth anywhere?” “top shelf on the right, next to your brain muncher book.” “aight thanks.”who takes the longest to get readytanith, being brought up as a hidden blade, can be fully awake and ready to kill someone within 0.5 seconds of waking up. she can pull a tank top on, slip on trousers and boots and ready to go within two minutes. ghastly? god no getting ready is no joke he didnt make his own clothes only to look like an uninformed peasant with them on, no. he doesnt joke around when getting ready plzwho is the most tidy and organisedghastly. every bit of thread and fabric is organised by type and then category and then colour and then and then. he’s often found himself glancing up from whatever hes looking at to find tanith gazing at the walls of his shop, almost lost in the fabric - not that he’ll ever tell tanith thatwho gets most excited about the holidaystanith doesnt get batshit crazy but she’s gotten ghastly into celebrating christmas at least a tiny bit, even if it means just taking him out to a bar and taking shots its still fun y’know? better she figures than staying in and working.who is the big spoon/little spoonghastly is absolutely the big spoon, always wrapping his strong arms around tanith, keeping her warm. he tends to tuck his head into the crook of her neck, too. tanith doesnt even try to hide how much she loves itwho gets most competitive when playing games and/or sportstanith which i feel is p obvious we all know how she is when fighting. she has a secret love for board games and WILL NOT. LET. ANYONE. LEAVE WITHOUT FINISHING MONOPOLY. GODDAMN YOU’RE NOT HERE TO BE WEAK AND LEAVE HALF WAY THROUGH OK SHE’S HERE TO RIDE OUT THAT GAME TILL THE VERY ENDwho starts the most arguments….. um. oh man, ok. so like??? look tanith doesnt like authority and ghastly is stubborn as hell and arguments like… idk how to word it, i guess tanith can let an edge creep into her voice when she brings up the fact he is/was an elder and ghastly notices it every time and things get a bit tense and uncomfortable for a while but they let it go every time. i saw a post on here about how ghanith hardly argue and i 100% agree w that tbhwho suggests that they buy a petit was all valkyries fault. bringing back that gigantic german shepherd from america got tanith talking and now she wants a pet because shes fallen in love with this dog and she wants a pet but?? dogs are a lot of work and ghastly and tanith just dont have the lifestyle to take care of one, both of them being busy and flexible in when and how they work. thats when tanith sorta realises that a CAT, HOWEVER, (bECAUSE I’VE SEEN THAT POST SOMEONE DID ABOUT GHASTLY HAVING CATS AND!!!!!!!!!!! 10000% AGREE) would still be a pet of their own but independent enough to be ok with being on their own for periods of time and the cat will find its way into ghastlys work room and surprise him by either rubbing itself against his legs or actually jumping up onto his work space and then climb onto his hunched shoulders while he works. he grumbles about it and complains that theres cat hair everywhere but he wouldnt change it for the world. whenever tanith walks in the cat always greets her and she loves it.what couple traditions they havesteak is Their Thing™. ‘nuff said.what tv shows they watch togetherghastly kept going on about this tv show which tackles everything hes passionate about and it pin points exactly what goes on in work spaces which is pretty much fucking around 90% of the time and he has all of its seasons recorded on his tv recorder which he still hasnt gotten round to watching it all and finally tanith is curious enough to see what this amazing show really is like and she ended up falling in love with brooklyn nine nine really, really fast. and rosa diaz. big crush on rosa diaz from tanith.what other couple they hang out withvaldug naturallyhow they spend time together as a couplesee what I adore about their relationship is that it was p much built on the two of them just being so, so ridiculously comfortable in each others company and talking to each other for hours on end and just sort of being there for each other, and i think that (besides from hardcore sexy times obviously) they love to spend time doing their own things with /each other/. tanith’s found herself getting passionate about ghastlys work because she loves being with him while he does so, with him talking to her about his mother and the war and anything and everything.who made the first movetANITH W THE STEAK im gonna cry brbwho brings flowers homeghastly is a romantic shit but he’s never really had room for flowers amongst all of his delicate fabrics at home, but tanith will always find some from somewhere, even if they are just pretty weeds she picked from the field down the road, and take them home to put into a jug of water to sit on the kitchen window sill. who is the best cookghastly. tHE most domestic to ever domestic. he can cook and he can cook good. tanith can settle for pot noodles but shes thankful for his cooking nonetheless

TL;DR: i really, really need to get out more

#LONG POST IS LONG #ghanith #ghastly bespoke #tanith low #ask #sp

[waywardfinchbrigade]

Albedo of Sounds Chapter One

           The ride had been a particularly long one. The day was spent staring out the window of the train, intertwining images of an unpleasantly gray, rainy sky and wet, dark green fields littered with trees and the occasional farm. Terry'd complain about the headache he was feeling from the grueling journey from his hometown to this place but right now he couldn't really muster up feeling angry about it. Or anything, really. He was just too tired for that.

             The morning had started out with the promise of a decent day. He'd wake up his younger brother so he'd get to eat one last breakfast with him before heading out for university. Dad wasn't home and at first he had the hope that he'd make it home before he'd have to take the train so he could say goodbye and what not, like normal families do. As it was, Terry was the last person to board his train because he waited even at the station for his dad to show up.

             Of course he didn't. Just like he missed out graduation, just like he missed out on Billy's birthday. And just like he missed out on mom getting fed up with him and everything. It was always work this, work that. And Terry was just tired. So, so tired of all of this.

             He left Billy with the neighbours in case his dad didn't get home at all till tonight. He kinda does that whole thing with forgetting there was more to life than work. And when he'd come home he'd usually grunt something about dinner and then that'd be the majority of their interractions. At this point Terry has given up on trying to make his dad pay attention to him. Right now the battle was to keep Billy happy, because Billy was still a small child and he still didn't understand that mom wasn't going to come back and that she wasn't on vacation with some friends.

             Mom was gone. She simply left them. And it was all dad's fault. And it wasn't like dad was cheating on her. He was just too overworked and there was nothing else but the deadline for him and it's been almost a year since then and...

             And everything was just fucked up, okay?

             Okay.

             When mom left Terry had to take care of everything because dad kinda forgot that someone had to take care of the house, help Billy with homework, set up dinner then clean up the dishes. There were so many things to do that Terry had felt overwhelmed at the beginning. But Billy was a good kid. He made a game out of helping out his big brother and somehow that made things easier.

             Terry was still wondering if he had made the right choice by leaving for university. Billy'd be alone now and the last time he tried talking to his dad about it they had gotten into this huge argument and...and they haven't really talked since. It's been a month of avoiding everything and it was one more thing to set aside because he just couldn't handle it with everything else on top. He worried about his little brother. Maybe he could take him with him here? No, it wasn't a good idea. His dad would yell at him again and accuse him of stuff that had nothing to do with the situation and he'd just make Billy cry and ... and everything has gone to shit and Terry had no idea how to deal with it.

             His advanced classes didn't teach him how to deal with parenthood that was supposed to be his own parents' responsibility. It was like they simply assumed because he was generally quiet, unassuming and smart he can take care of himself. And William, his sweet little Billy – he was a shy with strangers and had trouble communicating with children his age, but his face always lit up like the sun whenever mom, dad or himself paid attention to him. He was a sweet kid. They were both good kids. Terry wasn't a kid anymore. He was going to university now. But still. Having good, responsible children did not excuse the parents. Mom was gone to who knows where and dad was only paying the bills and that's it. Just because they were nice, just because they were good was not a reason to call the job well done when it was half-done. Idly Terry wondered if this was what being an adult was like. Doing the best of everything despite everything else. He had no idea. He was confused. Maybe he should've stayed at home to take care of Billy? That seemed like the most sensible course of action. Sure, his dad would yell he was a lazy, useless, free-boarding lout again, but at least Billy'd have a chance to grow up a happy kid.

             But!

             But then what of his own life? What would happen to him once Billy was out of school as well? He simply had to persevere. He'd be home every weekend, the distance wasn't that big and dad probably wouldn't even notice him. He'd help Billy with his lessons in advance so he'd be prepared for school for the weekdays and...

             Just listen to him – already making plans for when Billy starts school. Which would be as soon as he started university, really. And he had to be there for Billy. Dad wouldn't be, but that didn't mean he had to feel bad like Terry himself about it. At least Billy would miss out on their parents arguing. If mom wasn't there to yell at dad and if all dad ever did was to crash on the couch and grunt for food, then at least things would resemble the normalness Terry craved for so much.

             Even here at this strange new train station in another city that was just as strange and new to him, Terry felt ill at ease and extremely out of place. He saw other soon to be university students like himself, young men and women straight out of school with their happy, teary moms and dads saying their tearful goodbyes and giving promises to visit each other soon, to behave and to make sure they study and...

             All Terry could feel was shame, bitterness and envy that he had to be all on his own with his big awkward luggage that he had to haul all by his lanky, tall self to the nearest cab (he hoped it wasn't one of those fake cabs that would scam him for loads of money) and he read the address to the cabby. And what the hell was a Brodi Street? Who named their streets Brodi of all things? Was this Brodi guy (or girl, he had no idea really) some local hero or something? Never you mind that, he was here now. Brody Street Number 23. It was a quiet neighbourhood with four and five story multi-apartment complexes crammed up all together, but well kept and of neat red brick work, that Terry kinda liked, he guessed.

             Terry paid the cabby and he got his smartphone out and dialed the number of the person who was, hopefully, going to be his landlady for the forseeable future. A Miss Deborah Wayne.

             "Miss Deborah Wayne? Yes, hello. I am here, in front of the apartment complex now, ma'am. Hello?"

             She had closed the call and Terry stared at his smartphone in confusion. Why'd she close the call?

             "Hey you!"

             Terry looked up and saw a woman, middle aged, with mouse brown hair and big hazel eyes stare down at him from a balcony on the third floor.

             "I'll open the door and you can get your things up here. We've got an elevator so at least you won't snap your back on the stairs. Come on."

             Terry didn't say anything (he had no idea what to say even) as he quietly got to picking up his luggage and went inside the building. The corridor with the stairs was a bit narrow but well lit and cozy looking. Well kept just like the outside. There was a rectangular pot with some kind of shrubbery in it. It looked nice, healthy and watered too even if he had no idea what kind of plant it was. In front of him, on the ground floor, to the right there was a door that lead to the basement. Next to it, on the wall, were the post boxes. One two or three had absolutely nothing in them and Terry guessed either they had their mail already picked up or those were the post boxes for the apartments that were still free.

             Straight in front of him, left of the door leading to the basement were a small set of stairs that lead to the apartments on the floor. They were a total of five and Terry did the math. Four floors, not counting the attic floor and the roof top, five apartments on each floor. A total of twenty. The ad said they were small, cozy, for one or two people. Pets were allowed, the agent had said, but only if you cleaned up after them and made sure things stayed clean. Honestly, the last thing on Terry's mind was getting a pet. He already had his hands full taking care of Billy and-

             Well. Not the case anymore, right? He could get a pet now, he guessed. Not a dog though. He doubted he'd have the time to take it out on regular basis. Maybe a cat. Not right now. Eventually. When he felt properly settled into this new environments and maybe perhaps after he got over the guilt that he left Billy to literally fend for himself to pursue his own life. ( Oh God, what was he thinking!?)

             "Hey, new kid. Thought I'd check on you and see if that luggage of yours hasn't killed you yet. On the first set of what? Three steps of stairs? I imagined you with a bit more meat on you. You're kinda thin and pale. You aren't one of those computer nerd types, are you? Not that I'd have a problem with that but you do look kind of pale. You sure you are alright kid? The train trip wasn't too bad was it? I myself get motion sick, so I know what's it like. Come on, let's get you settled. It's kinda obvious you need rest."

             Terry merely shrugged, not feeling up to the task of talking right now. He followed the land lady into the elevator and on their way to the third floor.

             "You're gonna love the apartment. We had the whole building renovated last year. I think you can still smell how new everything is. Even the elevator is brand new. I own the entire building, you know. It was the least I could do for the few old fellows that still lived in here. That's Old Millie from apartment 2A. You'll see her soon enough. She's the local gossip. But don't listen to anything she says. It's like she forgets half the stuff she's heard and she makes it up or says it wrong or whatever when trying to relate said gossip. Then there's Mr. Barnaby who is here on the third floor with you. Apartment 3E. If anything gets broken poke him. He likes to feel useful and that guy knows his way around electronics. He's the, ah, young one of the old bunch. There's also Mr. Schulz in apartment 3C, who is also on your floor but I doubt you'll be seeing much of him. He hasn't got much time left in this world, I guess. One of his grandchildren now lives here, taking care of him. You'll be meeting her sooner or later, I guess. Oh, also try to avoid Mrs. Bane on the fourth floor. Not that you'd have anything to do with her, hopefully. She complains about everyone and everything. And probably hates everyone and everything to boot. Her puppy is a sweetheart though. Aaaand we are here!”

             The huge key ring that she had on her middle finger on one hand was taken out and she searched through all the keys until she found the one that was to his apartment door. It was on the third floor, as mentioned by Miss Wayne. Apartment 3A, which also had a balcony looking out the front of the building. The same one Miss Wayne had poked her head through to welcome him (more like yell) to the neighborhood. Miss Wayne seemed like one of those people who didn't want to grow up or just didn't let life crush them yet. She was a good looking woman, not quite perfectly slim, but with a curvy figure and a huge smile on her face. She seemed to be perpetually in motion, always shifting from one heeled foot to the other. It was strange how her behavior had nothing to do with the way she dressed – mouse brown hair pulled in a low bun with a few bangs of hair framing her face, white button up shirt with soft, faded light blue vertical stripes and a classic knee length dark black-blue straight skit, which was also vertically striped. She had the look about her of a businesswoman, wearing things like that, with perfect light make up, well done French nails, short-trimmed and classic black high-heels. Normally Terry did not take such things as female fashion and clothes into account but the way she dressed reminded him of mom. A mom, who, just like that, dealt with a business until she had gotten pregnant with Billy and then one of them had to call it quits because at the time Terry himself had been too small to be entrusted with Billy's care. Billy, who at the time was a newborn.

             If Terry had to place a point in time which he could blame as the beginning of the end... Well, that would be it. Billy's birth. And it wasn't so much Billy's birth  (he had been completely unplanned, as far as Terry had understood) as it was the fact that mom had to quit work. She and dad had been too alike in that respect. They were both workaholics and they had had a plan, you see. A plan the makings of which had been all the way back when mom and dad first clicked together and became a couple. But, apparently, as history has proven many times over, plans never last when they make contact with the enemy. Or something like that. So Terry had learned early on after the divorce that he shouldn't make plans. Instead, Terry made contingencies.

             “This is the living room. The couch can unfold to a double bed in case you've got guests. The bathroom is over there, the toilet is separate. You've got your own boiler as well, so, I don't know where you came from, but always be mindful of how much hot water you use unless you want to get an icy surprise. The kitchen is small but cozy. Has everything you need. If you don't know how to handle the gas stove, just tell me so I can explain the safety stuff and everything, like I told you over the phone.”

             “I know how to cook on a gas stove. We've got one at home.” Terry finally said, feeling the need to reassure the landlady.”

             “Really? With you that thin I seriously can't picture you doing the bacon and eggs staple.”

             Terry sighed at the way too perky landlady's constant chatter. It wasn't her place to know that he cooked breakfast and dinner for himself and his little brother, and also his dad on occasion. At least he wasn't going to live with her. She didn't even live in this apartment complex. And he can't help his metabolism. Eighteen or not, he'd be growing up until twenty-five years of age. He just hoped his biology will take the hint and don't go over the six feet height he was sporting right now

             “Well, anyways. This is the study. It's small but it's comfy and perfect for quiet, focused sessions of power studying. The window's got a great view of the park and I put a comforter and a few pillows on the window sill if you're into that kind of thing. The couch is comfy as well. And this will be your bedroom. It's a double bed as you can see. Kept the space a bit spartan I think, since this is supposed to be the most personal room and you can have the freedom to make it look, you know, more you. You can put up posters if you want. It's small and cozy but perfect for two people, as you can see. Well, that's the tour of the place. He are your keys. Try not to lose 'em. If there is anything you have my number. Internet and cable are your own responsibility, like the agent should've told you. Pay the rent and your bills on time and we will be topsy-turvy, boyo!”

             With that, the landlady rustled Terry's hair and before he had a chance to react, he was all alone in his newly rented apartment, still hauling his luggage around.

             “Well,” Terry said to no one in particular.”That was a thing.”

             He sighed again and looked around himself. It was all new, just like the landlady had said. Everything still smelled new too and he noted that, aside from the curtains, the comforter and the bed covers, there were barely any cloths around the house. It was something he found amiss, since he had been so used to having nearly every surface covered in something back home. His mom had been the one that obsessed over intricately made tablecloths. They still had them around even after she left. It was just part of the status quo of the house and the less he disturbed what he perceived as normal, the better.

             Terry set his luggage on the lacquered, hardwood floor and sat down on the bed. His hands felt for the material of the cloth beneath him and finally he settled them in his lap. He didn't know what to do with himself. He still didn't feel right about the whole university thing, moving away and leaving Billy to dad's perpetually grumpy mood and disinterest in his own children. Everything still felt so weird. He had signed up late, true, but at least it was still before the start of the first semester. And that conversation with his mom had been so awkward. He hadn't heard from her since she just up and left that one day. She still makes sure to phone Billy, which made him cut her some slack for that at least. But still. He needed money for rent and after the argument he had with his dad about this whole university thing, he couldn't just go to his old man and tell him that there were no more free rooms at the campus itself. He'd just be yelled at again for being lazy, indecisive and incompetent. And he wasn't! Terry was just tired of all of this! So, despite hearing his mom's voice felt like he was cutting deep to the bone, he still called her and she was even reasonable about his request. She even thought dad set him up for this, since he had always been such an obedient child and all. Except that when she left he had to take care of Billy, since dad forgot that a household needs more than just money to take care of itself. And for Terry, Billy had been the number one concern up until some of that crushed pride reared its ugly head and now...

             Now he had a chance to make something of himself so he could... not end up like mom and dad.

             He hated them sometimes.

             But mostly he hated himself for not being able to do anything about any of this.

             He missed Billy.

             Coming here was a mistake.

#hatsunemiku #hatsune miku #fanfiction