“hello,” the dark lord said, “i need a library card.”

“everyone needs a library card,” the librarian said brightly, sliding a form across the desk. “fill this out.”

the dark lord produced her own elaborately plumed quill from the depths of her robes and scrawled her name in handwriting that was completely illegible but seemed to whisper the secrets of the dark from the blinding white page. “yes, but i need mine in order to take over the tri-kingdom area.”

the librarian’s polite smile barely faltered. “funny, the last dark lord to try that didn’t bother with a card.”

“yes, and do you see that fool currently ruling our kingdom? no. of course not. utterly ridiculous, to attempt to take over any size country without a library card, much less an intermediate-sized one like this.” she accepted the thin plastic card with a gracious flourish of her gloved hand.

the librarian, adding the new card’s number to the database, privately agreed, but chose not to say anything.

the librarian balanced the pile of pulled books under one elbow and held the list of call numbers in their hand for easy consultation. “intermediate spell casting for grades three and four,” they murmured, running fingers along the peeling spines until they found it. “willing to bet that’s sorrel’s request.”

they fit the large, paperbound book under their elbow and moved on, checking the list again. “magical creatures encyclopedia, L through M. that’s jackaby trying to finish the entire set by midsummer.” they would get that one last to carry it around the shortest amount of time.

“next — the complete guide to raising the dead.” they paused in front of the row of shelves with the right call numbers. they could guess the requester of that one too, but knew better than to say it out loud.

the return slot thunked loudly as it swung open and closed, having swallowed the returned books with a wet gulp.

“good morning,” the dark lord said pleasantly as she looked up from sliding her books in — or as pleasantly as “good morning” could sound when it was uttered by a voice that sounded like gravel being chewed to pieces by the jaws of a large monster.

“it is, very,” the librarian said crisply, conjuring a clean handkerchief for the still-slobbering return slot.

the mouth just visible under the dark lord’s enormous cloak hood curved into a scythe’s blade smile, but she said nothing else.

“did you enjoy your books?” the librarian asked, since she wasn’t moving and there were no other people waiting (most likely because of the dark lord standing there).

the hood nodded up and down. “extremely. especially the taped lecture by doctor dramidius ardorius of the dark arts institute.”

“well, we have many more taped lectures. i especially recommend the one on the healing powers of tea.” they tilted their head in a now get out sign. the poor steam-powered self-checkout contraption would get overheated if people were too scared to check out at the front desk.

they didn’t really expect the dark lord to take the recommendation seriously, but the next day they noticed the cloaked, hooded specter glide out the door with the taped lecture on magic-infused herbal teas tucked between a CD of dark chants and a step-by-step art book on drawing occult symbols.

“you give good recommendations,” the dark lord said with a shrug when the librarian raised their eyes from the front desk’s computer to the shadows of her hood.

the librarian wasn’t sure what to say. “you seem to take up quite a lot of my time.”

“i’m only a simple library patron,” the dark lord replied in a saintly voice that resembled a dragon coughing up a partially digested house. “do you enjoy mermaid song?”

“yes. you can find the library’s collection in the CD section over there.” they looked pointedly back down at the computer.

“i hear there’s a concert on the shore tomorrow evening.”

“perhaps we’ll get a recording of it.”

the dark lord continued taking out books on various unsavory topics. the librarian continued suggesting books on healing, positive thinking, and community service. the dark lord seemed more amused with each visit. her smile was almost charming, once you got past the long, sharp teeth.

the librarian was trying to go about their usual morning ritual of pulling books that had been requested the night before, but the dark lord wouldn’t stop making faces at them from behind gaps in the shelves. she seemed to find it hilarious. the librarian hadn’t decided yet if they were amused or annoyed.

“ooh, look at this,” the dark lord said, pulling a sturdy but beaten up board book featuring a werewolf mid-transformation on the cover from the shelf. “this was my favorite when i was just a little menace.”

“somehow i’m not surprised.”

the dark lord tucked the book into the ridiculous basket made of a large skull that floated alongside her. “didn’t you have a favorite picture book when you were little?”

“Barker the Sentient Book End,” the librarian said promptly. “i screamed for it every night until someone read it to me, long after i’d already memorized each page.”

the dark lord cooed, sounding like a cross between an owl and something eating an owl. “adorable. i knew you had a little monster in you somewhere.”

the librarian crossly debated denying being a monster at all or pointing out they had actual kraken blood in them.

they should have guessed how close the dark lord was from how good her mood was, but it wasn’t until they arrived at work on monday that the librarian heard the news.

“the newest dark lord managed to overthrow the faeyrie monarchy last night. something about combining traditional herbal spells with a newfangled mental magic based on the power of willful thinking… or something. the news reporter mentioned the use of mermaid song in a mild kind of mind control, i think? i wasn’t listening. the good news is, our budget stays in place.”

the librarian contemplated hurling the can of bookmarks across the room, but concluded that it would be both unprofessional and unsatisfying. they settled for aggressively stamping returned, only slightly saliva-covered books with red ink.

the phone clicked loudly. “public library, how can i help you?”

“by taking my offer,” the dark lord said, slightly hesitant voice like a rock slide that wasn’t sure it was ready to slide. “the royal library in the capital needs a new head librarian.”

“why’s that?” the librarian spun in their new swivel chair, tangling the phone cord while they were at it, thinking they wouldn’t want to leave so soon after getting it.

there was a cough like the ocean spitting out a new island. “erm, hmm, last one got… eaten. tragic. these things happen when you’re very, very small, you know.”

“so i’ve heard.” the librarian stretched the phone cord and watched it bounce back. “well, i’m happy where i am.”

“well.” her voice was more disappointed than they’d expected. “it’s a very nice library, you know. large selection of mermaid song in the CD section.”

“the royal library is part of our system. i can request any materials from there that i want to be delivered here.”

a pause. the dark lord had not considered this. “well, maybe i’ll take the royal library out of the system.”

“you wouldn’t dare disrupt the workings of our very intricate library system set up at the dawn of time.”

“maybe i would!”


“fine. i wouldn’t.”

the librarian swiveled some more, wrapping the cord around with them until it ran out of give and spun them in the other direction. “would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

“yes,” the dark lord said, voice too surprised to resemble anything in particular. “i can travel down meet you tomorrow morning.”

“don’t you have things to do?”

they could sense the shrug from the other end of the line. “i’ll move the capital to your town. i can do that, you know. i’m the supreme ruler of the tri-kingdom area.”

“yes,” the librarian agreed, un-spinning to return the phone to its cradle. “just don’t forget who gave you the library card.”


By day, she’s one half of the hit pop sensation “Squid Sisters.”  By later that same day, Marie is Agent 2 from the secretive New Squidbeak Splatoon! Stepping in for the out-of-office Cap'n Cuttlefish, she’s been keeping a watchful eye on the shady Octarians. As a side note, the newly recruited Agent 4 has apparently never heard of the Squid Sisters?! Agent 4 must be one of those newfangled cord cutters. Or a hermit crab. Or both…

"Back in my day we didn't have all these mental issues!"

Well yes you did, Karen. They were called “Problem children” or “retards” or “psychos”. The were thrown in institutions and treated like criminals, or beaten to curb their behavior, or publicly shamed as “dunces”. They lacked adequate healthcare and no one understood what was wrong with them. They wandered the streets while their families either struggled to take care of them or pretended they didn’t exist. I know because I have an aunt who grew up schizophrenic in the 50s. You think anyone really knew how to deal with her when she wandered away from home or said and did bizarre things? And then there was my uncle, likely suffering from PTSD caused by his military service when he threw himself over a waterfall.

The increased ability to identify and diagnose things doesn’t mean these things just started existing. I’m not saying society doesn’t tend to overdiagnose and overmedicate (if you raise your kid with absolutely no boundaries or discipline and they end up a horrible brat, that’s probably not because of some rare mental disorder so much as bad parenting), but stop dismissing every mental health issue as some newfangled millennial nonsense you don’t have to take seriously. And don’t let that mindset stop YOU from getting help if you need it.

Aggressive ; Peter Parker

WARNINGS: smut !!, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex, messy stuff, language, choking, this is just all smut au & sin tbh

summary: handcuffs in bed are nice and kinky but if your boyfriend’s alter ego was spider man, why not try using his web-shooting abilities instead?

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okay so in the world of mages the power behind spells comes from the Normals’ everyday use of language. common phrases, popular lyrics, etc. can be used as spells and the power it contains depends on how widespread the use of the phrase is. so like mages use “up up and away” as a levitation spell and it works really well cuz its a really commonly used phrase.

can you imagine the baby boomer era mages complaining about these newfangled spells the younger generation has that are so unpredictable yet exponentially more powerful than anything the mages had in the past. a student wanted to fetch his pet frog and uses “oh shit waddup” and every frog on the continent suddenly flies to him. another student points her wand at her shoes. “damn daniel” and they become blindingly white. simply saying “BODE” engorges a kitten to the size of a dragon. the Mage’s position is filled by a grouchy teen known as the Meme King. he runs a blog and is the most powerful wizard of all time.

[old timey announcer voice] “Come one, come all! This is a show you’ll want to see! Watch these grown men and women play them newfangled videya games and have a ball! It’s fun for all ages!”

[distant] “FUCK.”

“…Maybe not all ages.”

Time: Approx. 6 hours || Program: Adobe Illustrator CC 2017 || My Art

EDIT: It was brought to my attention by the wonderful @spacecadetstef that I neglected to add Ashley the editor to the poster. And that would not do. So, I have updated the poster to now include Ashley! 

songs to listen to when you’re sad, for real

Scatman John had a brutal speech impediment that ruined his day-to-day interactions and destroyed his self-confidence so badly that he turned to the piano as the only way he could express himself. While others around him knew that he was an accomplished singer and a student of the “scat” style of singing, Scatman John was content to linger in the background of more accomplished singers for the rest of his life… until he was forced to sing when his frontman caught a cold.

Scatman John was terrified that, since he was unable to speak coherently, he would be unable to sing coherently. But, 30 years after he began performing wordlessly in public, he found himself to be a natural and smooth singer. A music producer took note of the Scatman and offered him a deal, but only if he was willing to play along with the modern trends of the time. A strictly classical jazz pianist, Scatman John reluctantly accepted.

He was a natural. Scatman John never believed that he could connect to a generation so much younger than his own, but found himself speechless when he realized that he was standing in front of a crowd of thousands of European teenagers. Even though he only had two hits in Europe and the Americas, he had managed to bridge the gap between his era and the ‘90s and, all the while, preached messages of encouragement to anyone struggling with a disability.

After his star faded, Scatman happily continued his career in Japan. Even when he was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, the Scatman refused to slow down. He knew that, against seemingly impossible odds, he had overcome with flying colors and had seen true beauty. 

Although Scatman John was a fad in most of the world, he had managed to incorporate his love of jazz with the newfangled world of techno and, in doing so, gain an appreciation of how the ‘90s youth thought and what music they liked to listen to. He overcame his speech impediment through the power of music after literal decades of obscurity and spread his message of positivity as loud and clear as he could possibly muster, across languages, until his peaceful death.

Scatman John, we salute you.


  • bitty always threatens to call one of their moms when jack is chirping him
  • bitty unzips jack’s hoodies and then zips himself into them, thoroughly stretching out all of jack’s hoodies.
    • “im cold” “bits no dont-” “IM COMING IN” “b i t t y”
    • “gee it sure is cold out here…” “I told you to bring a sweater” “IF ONLY i had a giant warm boyfriend” “(sigh) come here” “yay!! :)”
  • bitty uses Too Many pillows. Jack uses two.
    • jack: is this enough pillows bittle
      bitty: (literally creating a nest of 8 pillows)
      bitty: absolutely not don’t be cheap jack
  • jack pointing to anything and asking what “that newfangled doohicky is for”. bonus points if it’s something that he uses every day like his blender or his remote for the speakers. 
    • bitty comes up with creative ways to describe what things are for that are unnecessarily long or complicated.
    • jack: (points to the toaster) whats that ridiculous contraption for
      bitty: well, you see, bread was invented about 8000 b.c.e. when-
  • evry single day: “jack, what should I make for dinner” “food probably” “AMAZING how that joke is STILL FUNNY and NOT GETTING OLD OR ANNOYING AT ALL” (jack cackling)
  • bitty gets really giggly when he’s sleepy, especially around jack. jack thinks its really endearing and it makes him giggly and warm as well, so sometimes it’s like 3 am and they’re just laying next to each other poking each other and cracking up for no fucking reason. 
Love at First Hindsight;

Summary: Steve always thought Y/N was cute, but not much more than that. As Tony’s assistant, the girl was always around, and overtime started to grow on him. 

A/N: Sorry for not really being active the past couple days! I was at a concert last night, and I’ve been shopping getting ready to move away to college in the fall. I hope you enjoy, though! Let me know if there’s anything else you want to see. Also important: I KNOW Sam Wilson served in the military, but all the research I did failed to turn up what rank he was, which is why I didn’t mention it.

Trigger Warnings: Slight violence and mild harassment.

“Welcome back to the Avenger’s Complex, Captain Rogers,” a new, fresh face greeted the arriving ex-criminals, “Same to you, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Maximoff, Mr. Wilson. I can show you to your new rooms, if you’d like? Mr. Stark did some renovations during your absence.” 

“Sergeant Barnes,” Bucky pointed out to Steve under his breath, an amused look on his face, “Sure haven’t heard that one in awhile.”

Steve shushed him, trying to give the girl as much of his attention as possible. He knew she must have been nervous, addressing some of the worlds most powerful superheros AND ex-criminals. However, contrary to his assumptions, the girl carried herself with an air of self-confidence that Steve respected greatly. 

The girl pushed her large, round glasses back up her nose to settle back where they should be before she looked at them, addressing the group once again, “My name is Y/N, by the way. I’m Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. He would’ve loved to be here to greet you himself, but the rest of the team is currently away on a mission.” She pushed here glasses up yet again, Steve noted they must have been too large for her slim nose. Y/N didn’t seem bothered by the stray hair falling out of her carefully crafted bun onto her face. “Follow me, your rooms are all in the same wing for maximum comfort and ease.” 

The group of former vigilantes trailed behind her, taking in the magnificence of the building around them, listening to Tony’s assistant as she chattered on about notable architectural and artistic feats Tony incorporated into the building’s structure. 

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My little sister was telling me about how there’s this old joke book in her classroom and sometimes during breaks or free reading she and some other kids will sit around and read jokes to each other.

So one time one of them read a joke that went “How do you know if your dad is a space alien? He knows how to program the VCR”

And my little sister was the only one who laughed, the rest of the kids were like ??? So she explained that VCRs were old machines like DVD players and so it’s funny because it’s so old it’s hard to figure out

So I explained that back in the day, there was a whole thing about how when VCRs were new (and pretty much through their whole use), they were notoriously hard to program and people always made jokes about how difficult they were to program.

It’s just funny to me that the joke still works either way. It used to be “This newfangled technology is so hard to figure out!” and now it’s “This old-fashioned technology is so hard to figure out!”

Moments: The Playground

~Life is made up of passing moments. There are laughs and tears and kisses along the way. Not everything is connected, but every moment is worth remembering~

Dean x Reader

1,400 Words

Warnings: Flangst. Mild Angst, wrestling with the grand scheme of things, self doubt, fluffy finish.

~Feedback is the crack that keeps the Writing coming back~

Moments Masterlist ~  My Masterlist 

Lester Bailey Memorial Park - Forty Fort, PA

It was rather chilly for September, and the Pennsylvania air nipped at Dean’s cheeks and hands as he crossed the empty street and headed for the playground.

A few hours ago, and without a parting word, Y/N had taken off, hiding her tears as she bolted from the motel room and out into the afternoon sun. Dean had made a move to follow her, but Sam suggested he give her some time. The case they were on was wearing her down, and while she refused to talk about it, both brothers could see how hard it was hitting her. So, Dean had let her go, trusting that she’d be back after a quick walk, but as the hours passed and Y/N did not return, his normal concern turned to worry, and he set out to track her down.

He drove around the little town, eyes peeled for a lone pedestrian, finding nothing but pristine lawns tucked behind picturesque picket fences and locals on their evening strolls. About to give up, Dean remembered Y/N mentioning the little playground earlier in the day, and he decided to give that a shot.

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20th anniversary buffy birthweek  ☰  day two: [3/6] characters → dawn summers

i don’t think buffy’s watcher likes me too much. i think it’s just ’cause he’s just so…old. i’m not sure how old he is, but i heard him use the word “newfangled” one time, so he’s got to be pretty far gone.