#wire bangles

[playfullygrownup]

An elegant, coppery golden-color arm cuff for special occasions, like Elvish larps. :) By Natalija at NataliStudio on Etsy.

[madroosterjewelrybox]

[dietcane]

⚢ barbed wire baby - happiness is a butterfly

cw: dead dove, do not eat !!, age gap (ellie is late 30's, reader is 21), elements of domestic violence, toxic relationship, death, themes of organized crime (gangs/mafia/drug cartels), cheating, bribery, abuse (physical, drugs, alcohol), mentioned gambling, bloodplay, strap-on usage, heavy manipulation, dark!ellie, spitting, rough sex, oral sex. more to be added!!

synopsis: as the adrenaline becomes more and more overwhelming, so does the danger. stakes are higher than ever. dingy prison cells, double entendres whispered through jail phones. knowing glances exchanged with prison guards. her modern day bonnie to her clyde. your life weighs in the balance. you know ellie has pull inside and out. you have to decide if you're willing to risk everything for her. are you?

HAPPINESS IS A BUTTERFLY

song: happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey

⤷ m.list | a/n: bush ellie truther | poorly made smut ahead

Ellie was taken in on several charges. One of her many incompetent men had managed to get the FBI's charges to stick. A rat. She'd been tense for months, that uneasy, nagging feeling in her gut. A snitch. To say she was livid? An understatement. The Feds got her on petty little white-collar crimes. Money laundering? Fraud? And criminal conspiracy? Tacked on a stupid little murder-for-hire charge (sixty-seven counts? Rookie numbers.) And added some (read: twenty-two) manslaughter charges for good measure. A cherry on top. A fucking joke. Ellie is personally offended.

The damn Feds have her locked up in a pathetic little maximum prison. A handful of her men are in here. She gets cigs whenever and bitches a few of the girls who get snarky with her. In seventy-two hours, Ellie has ultimately made herself a kingpin in the prison. They fear her. Bowed their heads when they tugged her in with their too tight cuffs. Nodded at her in silent submission. Moved out of her way during rec hours. Scattered when she turned up her nose at them. Turned their backs when she came into shower. Gave her that privacy she didn't ask for. Didn't ask, but demanded for. Silently demanded. Her aura was nauseating and powerful. It was like her very presence engulfed rooms and made it tense and uncomfortably quiet.

You learn very quickly that prison is not a very favorable place. Mildewy smell clinging to the walls, irate prisoners clawing at crumbling walls, and the heavy blanket of unease settling into the very structure of the walls. It's a suffocating place, Concrete walls decorated in sharp barbed wire. Ellie managed to get herself a conjugal visit- which you don't think is allowed in maximum security prisons, but you don't question it. You know better. Even from prison, she dictates your every move. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, outings, and even your clothes. Forces her men to pick out lacy bras and panties and skimpy babydoll tops. Paired with heels that don't really match, mini skirts that are a little too tight, and bangles that clink and shine with every minuscule movement.

Today, unfortunately, you were presented with one of Ellie’s textbook-american-dream-girl-Priscilla-Presley fantasy outfits. The full get-up. The black smoky eye. White water lines. Eyeshadow dug into the creases of your eyelids. Greys and blacks and glitters. Layered over heavy bags concealed with thick layers of the latest makeup fad. Color correctors, skin tints, foundation, concealers, primers, bronzers, blush. Everything. Strategically caked on, just how Ellie likes. Not too noticeable, but not too subtle. Perky eyelashes, elongated by thick, cloying mascara, just barely tickling underneath your eyebrows (those were perfectly plucked and waxed, too.). Natural lip. Ellie hates lipstick. Despises it.

You wore it for her once. Her first birthday she ever spent with you. Laid in her bed, face heavy and glammed with a dark red lip. Body bared in lacy lingerie, all while sprawled over her bed. Pretty rose petals scattered over, dim light protruding from the scented candles meticulously placed over the dressers. When Ellie came in, she stopped and stared. Thirty seconds maybe. Walked into the bathroom. Came out with a bottle of soap and her rag. Threw it at you and walked out.

“Wipe that shit off your fuckin’ face.”

You went to bed that night alone. Bruised and cold. You had a black eye for three weeks. A Van Gogh of vibrant yellows, reds and purples fading off into nasty greens and blues. The first few days were horrible. Battered skin forming heavy eye bags, eye nearly swollen shut. She didn't sleep with you for a month. Holed herself up in her office. Couldn't stand to look at you. Forced you to eat alone. Left the room every time you walked into the same room as her. You never did it again.

Your heels are smaller than usual. The impact of your heels on the ground is dull where usually loud and magnetic. It's subtle. Like they’re a pair of baby’s-first-high-heels. The ones from magazines for teenagers, ones that are barely off the ground. Heels worn by divorced mothers and budding teenagers who are vying to be the newest heartthrob’s controversially young girlfriends- spoiler alert: Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles are definitely not into young girls, hope this helps- but you don't complain or question it. Ellie enjoys it and that's all that matters.

You feel like you’re in the wrong decade, though. Lace-trimmed slip dress, white tights, and a little baby kitten heel. There are tiny bows at the thigh of the skin-tight fabric on your legs and the crotch is cut out. Thin cotton panties underneath, though. They don't cover much. More of a scrap of fabric than a pair of panties. The ones Ellie favors- with the little heart where your most sensitive, intimate spot is. The inmates stare as your tiny little heels click and clack over the cement floors. You feel bare. Like they know you’re barely covered and ready to pounce. Your stomach roils uncomfortably.

–

Ellie’s conjugal visit room is tiny and suffocating. You don’t like it.

The walls are painted a dull gray, peeling in places where the dampness has seeped through over the years. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, their buzzing relentless, like the hum of a broken promise. There’s a stale odor in the air, a mixture of bleach, something metallic, and the faintest trace of sweat. It’s oppressive. Every inch of the space seems to press in on you, from the small, uncomfortable couch in the corner to the tiny table that’s barely large enough to hold a glass of water. There’s nothing romantic or even remotely comforting about this place. It’s just a sterile, functional space for intimate moments that were never meant to exist here, at least not in this form.

The walls- recently painted, you note- are cracked and peeling, tearing away to reveal the layers previously there. It brings about the thought of all the others who may have experienced this room, time and time again. With every withering spec of crackling, sterile white paint, bore the stories and etchings of past visitors- all of the heavy feelings cloying to the small, boxed room. Four walls. One bed, dresser, and a depressing, tilted wardrobe. A half assed kitchen and a closed off shower, toilet and sink. Sad excuse of a bathroom. Nothing like any of Ellie’s residencies, opulent, large, and stiff.

You stand at the entrance of the room, back to the heavy steel-reinforced door. She’s wearing the prison-issued uniform—a faded, worn-out set of white, pasty scrubs that cling frustratingly good to her body. Her tattoo seems so much more stark against her skin. She looks too fucking good. She’s looking at you, but not really seeing you, eyes tearing you apart, analyzing and judging.

You don’t like it. The walls, the smell, the space itself—it’s too much. Too small. Too harsh. Too confined. It’s suffocating in a way that makes you want to claw at your skin just to feel like you can breathe again. It makes you want to scream, but you won’t. You can’t. Not here. Not in front of her.

Even though Ellie’s been in jails and prisons more times than she can count, you've never stepped foot in one until today. Bleak, scary. The walls tremble and quiver whenever the inmates throttle and thrash at their steel bars. It's a smaller size of people- a decent women's prison, but they still intimate you. The abundance of cat calls thrown at you in not even thirty seconds? Vulgar. Nasty. A little flattering, admittedly. (some girl had told you that your ass sat up better than two bunk beds? Whatever that means. You hope it's good.)

Ellie shifts, her eyes still on you, but now there’s a hint of heavy unbridled desire in her gaze. Her hands are folded in her lap, as if she’s daring for you to move, to step any closer. The silence between you stretches longer than it should. You want to reach out, to close that distance. You want to grab her hands and hold them in yours. She’s eyeing you down like a piece of meat. But something stops you. Fear? Hesitancy? You’re not sure.

“Stand up straight when you’re in front of me. Look me in the eye. Not the time to be gettin’ shy, mama.”

You comply immediately. Eyes forward, head high.

“Are you okay?” Her voice still has that edge. Faux concern.

You’re not fine. None of this is fine. The sound of the guards’ boots echoing down the hall outside, the cold metal of the door that separates you from freedom, from normalcy—it all feels so far removed from the life you shared before. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to do. The walls seem to close in tighter the longer you stay, as if the very room is swallowing you whole. But, you’re sopping wet in your panties. Just from looking at her.

Ellie watches you closely, her brows furrowing. “Answer me when I talk to you. Matter of a fact, bring your ass here.”

You stop, locking eyes with her, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I hate it here,” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

The words hang in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. She raises her eyebrow at you before scoffing. A disappointed shake of the head. You’re embarrassed and a nasty feeling coils in your gut.

“I know,” she says, her voice curt, rough and jagged-edged. “I know. Not what I fucking asked for, though.”

There’s a lump in your throat, something that aches with all the things you want to say but can’t. You want to tell her how much you miss her, how much you want her to bend you over this sad excuse of a dining table and set you straight, or you feel like part of you left when they dragged her out in those cuffs, lost in the red and blue siren lights of it all. Most importantly? You want to tell her how bad you want her right now.

But instead, you just nod, closing the distance between you two submissively. She’s unraveling the deepest parts of you with a measly glance. You drop to your knees involuntarily, in between her legs. Your brain feels like it's starting to fizzle. She didn't even ask you to do that. It feels like second nature. Barely conscious, in between her muscled thighs, just staring up at her.

“Good little girl, hm?,” There’s yearning and arousal and desire all laced into three words. You’re dizzy.

The distance between you seems impossible to cross. None of her body is touching you. You’re so close. You can practically taste the Dove bar soap wafting off of her. She reeks of sweat and soap and cigarettes. She finally glances down at you. You moan. Loudly.

In the sterile confines of this visitation room, on your knees in stark white tights, you realize just how much you need her. Not just her strength, but the suffocating aura she has.

Ellie wasn’t just your wife. She was your protector, your guide, the force that shaped your world. She had been the one who took care of everything—made the decisions, set the tone, kept you safe, even when that meant locking away pieces of you that she didn't enjoy.

You just stared at each other—her, with that calculating gaze, the one that made everyone else tremble. And you, with your softer, more tentative yearning gaze. You had always been the one who sought her approval, the one who wanted to make her proud. But here, now, you felt exposed, unsure of where to place your hands, how to sit, what to say.

Ellie’s eyes softened just the slightest bit, and her lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “So well-behaved,” she says, her voice low but laced with a comfortable warmth.

You blinked, startled by the tenderness in her words. Her smile widened just a bit further, and you felt the tight knot in your chest loosen just a fraction. In this cold, unforgiving space, her affection was like a lifeline, one you had been starved of for far too long. Seventy-two hours? Far too much

“Only for you,” you warble, trying to keep your voice steady. The words came out quieter than you meant them to.

Ellie lets out a breathy chuckle, a subtle exhale of her chest, as if she was dismissing the statement with the same frustrating nonchalance she had always carried. “I’ve just got you under my thumb, don't I?,” she said, but you could hear the faintest trace of something underneath her words—a hint of arrogance, of being proud, almost. It wasn’t rare for Ellie to let that possessive, sick part of herself slip, but it still whisked the air from your lungs all the same. Every single time.

Your eyes flickered to the guards standing nearby. One of them was watching you, his gaze sharp, but Ellie made a quick, subtle motion, and he stepped back. The other guard, who had been leaning against the wall, followed suit, leaving you both alone in the small space. The air shifted once more, and though the glass still separated you, it felt less like a barrier and more like a reminder of the limits placed on both of you.

Ellie leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart. And that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Those words, the ones you had waited days to hear, hit you harder than expected. You had imagined this moment a thousand times—what you would say, how you would feel. But the reality of it, of seeing her sitting there, sitting in the middle of a conjugal visit room, yet still so her, caught you off guard.

“Please,” you mumble, your voice catching. You didn’t care that you were being vulnerable. In this moment, you didn’t care about anything except the need to be close to her. “Just want to be good for you. Please, momm- miss- uhm- sorry.”

Ellie’s face softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she reached out—slowly, deliberately—placing her palm flat against the top of your head.

“I know,” she said, her voice huskier now, tinged with something that wasn’t power, wasn’t business, but something else. Something more carnal. “I know you do, baby. You wanna show me?”

You nodded, swallowing down the lump that had formed in your throat. Ellie’s eyes drifted to the side for a brief moment, and when she spoke again, her tone shifted- something more animalistic. “You dressed in those cute little bottoms I like?”

You nodded again, your heart swelling in your chest. You knew Ellie. She liked familiarity. Control. Power. Nostalgia, maybe.

Ellie pulled her hand back from the top of your head, but her gaze remained fixed on yours. “Take this shit off. The dress, the tights, whatever you got on underneath. Leave the heels on.”

Her words were firm, commanding. Demanding silent obedience. She got it, extremely quick. Stumbling over shaky legs, tugging at straps and waistbands, nearly tripping over yourself. Trembling hands lacing straps of heels off and back on again. Clothes laid in a pile beside you. Completely bare.

Your nipples pebbled at the cold. Almost naked as the day you were born- except for the kitten heels. Ellie was staring at them, so you hoped they were cute enough for her.

Ellie’s eyes softened again, the edges of her mouth curving upward into the faintest of smirks. She looked away for a moment, and when she returned her gaze to you.

She stood slowly, thumbs pressed into the waistband of the prison scrubs. She backed up on steady feet until she met the foot of the bed, pulling them down all the way until they pooled at her feet. She unbuttoned the top painfully slow, tattooed fingers intricately tugging at each button with finessed seduction. It's easy for her. To get you going.

Like it's second nature, you kneel between her manspread thighs. A practiced dance between two souls, intertwined and carved into each other. Her hand tangles into the back of your head, pulling you closer to her boxers, fabric dampening by the minute. All you can smell is her.

Your nose brushes against her and you hear her breath hitch. Her eyes are boring into you. Your gazes meet as her hand forces you even further into her.

She’s suffocating you.

You struggle. Thrashing in her hold. She’s way stronger than she looks. The fabric of your panties dampens even more. Pathetic.

Somewhere in your lightheaded daze, her fingers dug into your scalp and tugged you back. Her hands frenzied as she tries to pull off her boxers, just far enough to let you get close.

Barely conscious, face first into the unruly auburn curls beneath her pubic bone. Leg propped onto your shoulder, spread to accommodate you.

She tastes so *fucking* good.

Ellie is rough and particular in the way she likes things done. Eye contact. No hands. Use your nose.

Your tongue flicks at her heavy, protruding clit, peeking through the mess of sopping wet curls. She pulls your head back, glances down at you, and spits. A fat glob dripping down your lips, before shoving you back in.

Your lips latch around the over-sensitive bundle of nerves there, sucking and lightly dragging the bottom of your front teeth as you suck her in. Ellie’s leg jerks from where it’s resting on your shoulder and you’re rewarded with a breathy noise.

Her cheeks are flushed and her head is thrown back. Beads of sweat trickle down her throat and down the crevice and valley between her tits and into the divots of her defined stomach.

You want to lick it off so bad.

She glances down at you and pulls you away again. A sharp smack against your cheek. Fingers prodding at your mouth. She forcefully pulls your tongue out as far as it can go.

Not even a breath is granted before you’re tangled into her again, not even freely moving your tongue, just staring up at her desperately as she takes what she wants. As she uses you. Works you up to the top of your peak, just from being of service to her. Making her feel good.

Your soaked panties drags against the hardwood floors, leaving a slick of arousal behind. You’re not concerned with your own release, only Ellie’s. She’s close. You can taste it.

“So fucking pathetic. But- *shit*- you’re good for somethin’. Being so obedient and pretty.”

A flood of sickly sweet arousal coating your mouth, nose, and practically your entire face. She’s all you can process. Ellie. How she tastes. How she looks when she’s close. How she sounds when you do something she likes. All engraved into your hot wiring. Like you’re a robot waiting for her every command. A robot that doesn't even think of autonomy.

Why would you need autonomy anyway? She makes every single decision for you. No need to *think*.

-

once again, not proofread, ever. xoxo

- jadieee

taglist !! @bambiaches @mabermaple @starrdelight @vahnilla @elliesfavtoy @sulliefimmie @oneinamelian @eriiwarii2 @azteriarizz

cmnt to be added / removed !!

[chaaistained]

what’s in my bag — kpop dr .•°

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cannot begin to describe how long this took me T^T so i hope you like it !! anyway, here is what’s in my bag in my kpop/clarity dr !!!

my bag is the adidas original pu biker bag !! i got it from an adidas campaign that clarity did. one thing to note is that i’m scripting there are two versions and ver 2 has longer straps bcs i’m more comfortable with that !!

on the front of the bag i’ve got some decor!! some small little things to personalise it hshshs :

⟢ my mum’s claw clip — she gave it to me when she came to visit, i’ve got it clipped onto one of the straps

⟢ a carabiner from sabrina carpenter — it has the engraving “You Are My Lucky Star”, i’ve attached a few charms to it :

•⟢ a lucky 7 ball — i love the number 7, i love that shade of red and the number itself reminds me of enhypen (who i’m a huge fan of!!)

•⟢ a light stick keychain — i’ve just used the enhypen light stick as an example but in actuality, it’s clarity’s light stick aka the claridome, i’m matching with my members !!

•⟢ the purple candy store series sonny angel — also matching with my members bcs this series has our designated colours !!

next up are the exterior pockets !!

in side pocket 1 i have :

⟢ my keys — obvious necessity of course, i’ve got my car keys, my house/dorm, and then some company keys : the music studio, dance studio, recording studio and my locker. attached onto the keys are two key rings :

•⟢ a little mushroom — from the day i landed in south korea after being accepted into fantagio ent. as a trainee!! i needed to get smth to commemorate it bcs i’m nothing if not sentimental

•⟢ a resin orchid flower charm with bronzite, cherry quartz and pearl beads — a gift from jungwon !! it was during a secret santa that we did with the other 04’ idols in our friend group

⟢ three lippies :

•⟢ a clarins plum lip oil , a burt’s bees coconut & pear lip balm and a burt’s bees cucumber and mint lip balm — super niche flavours of lip balm but i can’t lie, they’re my absolute favourites

⟢ a tiny perfume — jasmine and sandalwood scented ofcs

⟢ a small shell shaped jewellery box — usually i’d take off any jewellery i’m wearing when i get tired or overstimulated, it can fit quite a lot of things including earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets (that aren’t solid like bangles), but even if i’m wearing all my jewellery, it serves the purpose of housing my guitar picks

in the front pocket i have : my snacks!!

⟢ two packs of jumpy’s — a little treat from enhypen’s jake when he ordered a bunch of aussie snacks

⟢ warheads — i love sour things so i’ve always got a pack on me

⟢ sour blueberry bubblegum — this isn’t always in my bag but if i can find this specific brand and flavour, i def have it with me (another sour one)

⟢ chai tea sachets — god forbid whatever hotel we’re staying at doesn’t have chai

⟢ mint strips bcs obvs

in side pocket 2 i have :

⟢ two sets of headphones — my beats fit pro bluetooth headphones in grey, and my apple wired headphones that i keep just in case my bluetooth’s lose charge, and to stop them from getting tangled, the wired headphones live in this little shell trinket box

⟢ a tiny vial of moon water — it’s cute, it’s spiritual, it’s shaped like a star, what more can i say?

⟢ a capo — i got it as a gift from enhypen’s jay !!

⟢ a lace draw string bag full of crystals — a citrine tumble, a tigers eye tumble, a labradorite tumble, a flower agate palm stone and a raw herkimer diamond

ok here comes the main pocket !!

⟢ yes, i’ve got two phones — a personal phone and a work phone :

•⟢ my personal phone is the iphone 11 in purple — it has a polaroid of clarity during our tour in sydney !! it was taken by our manager and i keep it in the case

•⟢ my work phone is the iphone 14 in baby blue — it has a tiny little teddy bear charm attached to it’s clear case, i got the charm from a lumino (our fandom name!!)

⟢ a portable charger bcs obvs

⟢ my current read — i always have a book on me, and i tend to read multiple books so i’ll have ebooks on both phones as well as a physical book in my bag aksjdjs, my current read is The God Of Small Things by Arundathi Roy, a gift from my dad !!

⟢ two notebooks, each for a different purpose :

•⟢ my journal — the brown leather book, embossed with prints of flowers, a few sticker stamps that i got as a gift from vicki’s stamp collection, it’s a mess of a mind dump, a complete amalgamation of thoughts, un-curated, unfiltered, and extremely authentic, the notebook itself was part of a birthday present from my members !!

•⟢ my lyric book — the little red notebook that i found at a corner store in some nook of london, i got it during our first world tour and have been using it as the place to go when i get random inspiration

⟢ a tiny teddy bear plush toy — i got it from my little brother when i visited home again after a long time

⟢ a digital camera — i got it from enhypen’s sunghoon on my twentieth birthday bcs not only was i an official adult but it was also nearing the end of our mc-ing contract

⟢ finally, i’ve got four seperate pouches inside the main pocket :

•⟢ my makeup pouch — a vivienne westwood red pouch that i bought with my own money . and then i became an ambassador like, a week later.. all i had to do was wait a week.. typical

•⟢ my hygienics pouch — got it from a lumino during a fansign !! they said it reminded them of regulus and they knew i was a huge regulus stan so they got it for me ??? i cried

•⟢ my pencil case — i’ve had it since predebut, never want to get rid of it, i actively mended it when the zipper came loose once .. it’s staying with me till the end i fear

•⟢ my wallet — idek where i got this, it just showed up one day in my closet and i just ran with it, surprisingly fits everything i need tho

in my makeup pouch i have :

⟢ a beautiful compact mirror — i got this from chris aka stray kid’s bang chan aka my big cousin!!

⟢ a lighter — found it online and immediately had to get it bcs it looks so pretty, i’m not a smoker necessarily but i just like having a lighter, i’ve got a couple friends who smoke and it comes in handy, plus i can use it for candles

⟢ some actual makeup products, shock horror :

•⟢ a kiko clear gloss — i’m partial to tinted glosses but i like having the option

•⟢ tinted burt’s bees lip balm in plum — same thing here

•⟢ a bobbi brown concealer, a rare beauty highlighter and a diamond clear mascara — i unfortunately don’t wear makeup in my cr bcs i have ridiculously sensitive skin so i have no clue abt the shades or the quality of these products T^T i just know i need to have them ahshdjsjsk

⟢ a comb — i can’t go to sleep without at least brushing the ends of my hair, i don’t know, anyway i got it from india at the local markets and it’s very pretty

⟢ hair ties bcs obvs — i would have also put scrunchies or smth but knowing me, i’d probably mooch off of aining’s scrunchies (just like in this reality >.<)

in my hygienics pouch i have :

⟢ a lot of obvs necessities — kleenex, deodorant, hand sanitiser, moisturiser, bandaids, pads

⟢ vaseline — dry skin is a bitch but i vow to conquer it

⟢ eye serum — idk what i’d do without it like do y’all understand how bright and arid those stage lights are??

⟢ sun screen — this isn’t in the obvs section bcs this is specifically australian made sunscreen, spf 50+ i even use it in this reality

⟢ meds — vitamins, anti histamines, anxiety pills

in my pencil case i have :

⟢ 0.35 black ink pens — for the life of me i could not find the brand name but i have these exact pens in every reality, i worship them, they are glorious

⟢ a silver mechanical pencil — same deal, the one in this reality i’ve had since 2019 i believe? and i couldn’t find a pic of this but i also have a small pack of lead as well

⟢ erasers — snoopy/peanuts themed bcs i adore that franchise and i unfortunately buy things just bcs they’re peanuts themed..

⟢ a small love note from jungwon !! — passed to me between the hallways of an award show, right before enha left for tour, i don’t think he knows that i’ve kept it

in my wallet i have :

⟢ my cards — yes i have a black card, yes i use it whenever i can, yes i can feel the stares every time

⟢ cash and coins — coming from a regular middle class lifestyle means i never get out of the habit of keeping physical money on me, ya know, just in case

⟢ perfume scent testers/cards — idk they’re fun to keep, gives my wallet a funky yet intoxicating scent, i keep adding new ones every time i go to the perfume section, even if i don’t buy anything

⟢ a queen of spades card from a deck with indian artwork — i got it as a gift from a lumino, and it was so thoughtful bcs the queen of spades is actually linked to clarity lore, specifically my lore in our groups concept, plus, it’s an indian queen !!!

⟢ a tiny passport photo of baby me — one of those sentimental things that my parents gave me before i left to start training, i always keep it with me as a reminder; anytime i’m mean to myself or forget to ignore the negative comments i may get, i’m actually hurting that little girl right there, she doesn’t deserve that, so i don’t deserve it

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there’s a lot i didn’t add bcs it wouldn’t realistically fit, and also i’ve got my manager to carry some stuff for us — more makeup, vlogging equipment, more toiletries, etc etc .. anyway!! this took ages so i really hope this does well 🥲🤞🏽

chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

2025 © chaaistained

[inbetween-beast-and-man]

I dozed off by accident and woke up from another nightmare. Im my dream idk how but I opened up my eyes and I was in this dark pit of what felt like tar and I couldn't breathe. So I tried to get up but the tar was so thick it was tough to get through. Luckily I found this wire in the tar that I used to crawl back out. When I got out I had to crawl onto the ground. But the ground was fully covered in barbed wire. It ripped my clothes and ripped my skin. It made the tar mix with my blood. It was painful. And I woke up cuz bingle bangle barked or whatever else ud call it

[luciacaminoz]

IT’S SAM and i want julian and sol wrist kiss for the drabble prompt :3 no rush!

you got 3k of vampire toxicity <3

Desert Ghosts

August 2005

The warehouse throbs with a bassline that could crack ribs.

Scorched earth of Hidalgo-Cochise borderlands underfoot, corrugated walls crumbling and bleeding graffiti: GOD HATES YOUR FUCKING PULSE. The air reeks of diesel and sagebrush, the kind of nowhere place that swallows screams and buries bodies. Tonight, though, The Dead Zone’s alive, vibrating the sand out of scorpion carcasses. Strobes carve jagged shadows through clove smoke into a writhing ecosystem of four hundred—mortals high on a pharmacopeia of sins, Kindred high on the kine. Some fucker in neon shuttershades and black PVC (callsign: GLITCHGOD) is DJing a remix of Clubbed to Death spliced with Gregorian chants, emergency sirens, and the thock-thock of helicopter blades. When he screeches into the mic, his voice distorts through a pedal that makes him sound like a chipmunk. “BUSH DID 9/11!” The crowd surges; screams back. It’s a slaughterhouse ballet in the pit. Tweakers with meth-jaw tremors rub shoulders with trust fund coke-heads. Jock-straps, pigtails, balaclavas, tutus, U of A hoodies—somewhere there’s a Ventrue neonate in a fucking pantsuit and Louboutins. A shirtless guy with a soul-patch grinds up on a goth chick whose fishnets are shredded from climbing barbed wire fencing. Their sweat mingles with the underlying brine of blood, ozone and festering needle tracks clinging to the walls. Over by the bar (huge, spray-painted plywood board; oil drums), a frat boy pukes Jägermeister and glowstick fluid onto his box-fresh high-tops. His buddies laugh and shout “dude!” and film it on flip phones and BlackBerry’s.

On the opposite side of brick and mortar, a Gangrel shovelhead tears into some drunk kid’s throat mid-piss behind creosote. His carotid crunches like a honeycrisp apple. (Body’ll be found at sunrise, blamed on coyotes.) No one cares. The desert especially doesn’t give a fuck about you. The rules here, for both kine and Kindred, are simple: Don’t piss off the bikers guarding the doors. (Those aren’t bikers, by the way.) Julian leans against a rattling speaker stack near the far end of the space, pale and absurd in his Akira tank top and fingerless gloves, pretending to fix something while actually scouring a laptop he’d swiped from the booth. His mismatched earrings catch fractals of UV every few seconds, and his arms are vein-mapped as they move under blacklight. Sol, absently nodding along to whatever conversation is happening beside her, watches him from where she’s perched at the end of the bar. She’s wearing a thrifted slip dress; backless, the color of dried blood, safety-pinned at the hip; a pair of glowstick bangles, and boots that’ve stomped through worse than this. Her hair’s a glossy, dark pool gathered en masse over one shoulder, Nuestra Señora de los Dolores in red and black ink on full display up her spine. They're supposed to be tracking an informant—a starved ghoul left to dry, now trading Cam intel for blood on the border. She’s supposed to be charming the Anarch envoy slouched next to her—some Brujah fuck with a septum ring and a “KILL YOUR LOCAL LANDLORD” patch sewn into his denim vest. He’s been monologuing about dialectical materialism for twenty minutes, spittle flecking his beard. But she’s bored. She’s always bored without Julian.

The Brujah’s still talking. “—so like, Marx’s theory of alienation under capitalism is basically the same as the Beast, right? We’re all just—” Sol cuts him off by sliding off the stool, her hip brushing his knee. “Gonna smoke,” she lies. “I’ll come—” “No.” She’s already walking, kine parting for her like she’s got a fucking forcefield. Her eyes stay locked on Julian as he chews his lip, thumb jamming the spacebar. She knows that look. When she’s close enough to smell him—bergamot oil and static—she hooks a finger into the belt loop of his jeans and yanks. “Jesus!” He spins, but his glare quickly dissolves into a grin. “I’m working.” “You’re losing,” she corrects, nodding at the screen. A progress bar’s frozen at 69%. “Nice.” He snorts. “Firewall’s got more layers than your mom’s—” “Finish that and I’ll rip your dick off, Sim.” “You’d miss it.”

Sol’s cheeks dimple (lopsided) when she smiles, teeth turned violet under the blacklight, the barest hint of fang. She steps closer, her knee nudging his thigh. Julian’s irises are voids; she can see the hunger in him—not for blood, but for the win. “Take a break,” she says, softer. “Dance with me.” “Dance?” He barks a little laugh. “You know I don’t—” The Brujah envoy’s watching them now. So’s the Ventrue in the Louboutins, pretending not to. Julian hesitates—then slams the laptop shut. “Fine. One song.” “Two.” “Don’t push it.” She grabs his wrist, cold and corded, and drags him into the swarm. “THIS ONE’S FOR ALL YOU DEAD FUCKS IN THE HOUSE—YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” It’s a remix of Closer, reverb heavy enough to thrum the stale blood in their veins, with intervals of deep-sea whale song. Sol sways first, all hips and dark eyes and waterfall-curls, her dress slipping off one shoulder, accidentally-on-purpose. Julian stands stiff, arms crossed, like he’s waiting for the beat, or Trent Reznor, or GLITCHGOD, to punch him. “Relax,” she shouts over the noise. “I am relaxed.” “You look like you’re cosplaying a fucking utility pole.” He laughs, sharp and sudden, and, yeah, he cracks. His shoulders drop. His head tips back, throat bobbing as he lets the rhythm hit him—there.

Sol turns, dodging a raver’s elbow, and closes the distance until her back’s to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands immediately find her hips, thumbs pressing into the divots of her pelvis. The contact zips through her like a live wire; an overwhelming urge to rouse the Blood. She leans into him as they move. The song fractures into static, then a warped sample of Toxic meets The Exorcist. Sol grinds against him. He’s half-hard. “Sol,” he warns. She continues, smiling. It’s evil. His grip tightens. He spins her, pins her front to his chest, his hand sliding up her ribs to cup her breast. Her nipple pebbles under the thin fabric. Sol’s cheeks flush by the millisecond as blood starts to move. Her lips graze the smooth sweep of his jaw. Julian’s fingers dig into her waist. He’s straining against her lower stomach. The song ends. The crowd howls. “One more,” she says by his ear. “Sol—” “One more.” He gives her a look—but nods.

This track’s slower, dirtier, all distorted moans and sub-bass—no whales. Her hands slide to his chest. His heart doesn’t beat, obviously—what’s under her palm is a sick mimicry—but his skin is heating up, beginning to glisten, and she feels the want between them. Her lips find his neck. Fangs drag along soft, supple white flesh. Julian stiffens slightly—not fear, but awareness as the Beast prickles under his skin. Sol licks a hot, wet stripe up his jugular; savors the feel of his Adam’s apple stressing under the press of her tongue when he swallows reflexively. She nips his chin, then his bottom lip. He shudders. When she pulls back in his arms her eyes are different. Not the color (dark brown, restless—always fucking restless), not the shape (almond, long-lashed). It’s the way they move. Flicker. Slow. Deliberate. Like a snake uncoiling in sunlight. She’s staring at his throat. The crowd surges again as Julian leans to kiss her. His mouth misses hers as they’re thrown between sticky bodies, his lips skimming along her scar. He cups the back of her head and pretends he meant to lick her instead. She laughs, grabbing fistfuls of his tank top to drag him toward the exit. He follows without protest, grinning, a little dizzy. Outside, the desert slams into them like a brick wall—110 degrees past midnight, air so dry it leeches the spit from their fangs. The rave’s bassline thumps muted through cinderblocks. Fifty yards away, a body lies in the dirt, throat torn wide, one Reebok still twitching. Julian’s already texting a cleanup crew. “Fuck’s sake, can’t even eat neat,” he mutters, squinting at his Razr’s green glare. “Amateur hour out here.”

Sol leans against a rusted shipping container, watching him pace and type. Wispy black bangs fall over his eyes and he scrunches his nose, tongue peeking. Moonlight slicks his collarbones. She wants to bite into that divot between neck and shoulder, all meat, where his pulse should be. Wants to make him forget every line of code, every dead drop, every shred of control he’s white-knuckling. “Julian.” “Hm?” She steps into his space, hips swaying slow, deliberate. He doesn’t look up. “Julian.” “What?” Her palm slams the container beside his head. The metal dents. He finally meets her eyes, brows raised. “You’re being a shitty date.” “We’re working.” She ghosts her lips over his jaw. “C’mon. You’re two firewalls from stroking out.” He huffs, thumb still jabbing keys. “Listening to Das Kapital: The Remix for an hour didn’t help.” “You’re the one who picked this shithole to scout first.” “You’re the one who—” She kisses him.

Not the soft, teasing shit from inside—this is all teeth and hunger, her tongue demanding and pleading both. Julian makes a noise between a groan and a sigh, phone clattering to the dirt as he fists her hair. His other hand finds her ass, yanking her flush against him. She grinds down, feeling him harden further through his jeans, the seam catching her clit just right. “Fuck,” he hisses against her mouth. “We’ve got ten minutes before—” “Stop planning.” She bites his lower lip hard enough to draw vitae. The coppery tang blooms between them. She kitten-licks it. His hips jerk. “Sol—” “Shut up.” Her hands dive under his shirt, nails raking down his ribs. He’s all lean muscle and smooth skin, twitching under her touch like a live wire. “Let me fix it.” He laughs, breathless, exasperated. “Fix it how? You gonna suck my dick in a meth den parking lot?” “Tempting.” She drops to her knees. “Solona.” He frowns; his hand catches her chin. Not harsh, but firm. “Not here.” “Since when do you care about audience participation?”

“Since I don’t want some shovelhead taking video proof of my childe deepthroating me for the fucking, I don’t know, Camarilla newsletter.” He tugs her to stand, but she resists, all dead weight and tiny smirk, kneeling at his feet. “Prude.” “Sol.” They stare each other down—her breaking into a grin, him trying not to. The tension crackles louder than the rave going on inside. Finally, he caves. “Fuck it.” His hand slides behind her neck, pulling her up and into another kiss. This one’s slower, deeper, his tongue mapping hers with precision that makes her toes curl. When he breaks away, his lips trail down her throat, peppering breathy, open-mouthed kisses. “Wait,” he murmurs against her skin. “The bond—" She shivers. “So?” “So I’m trying to be responsible. We talked about this.” His thumb brushes the safety pin at her hip. “Three bites, and you’re mine. That terrify you yet?” “You wish.” “I do, actually.” She grabs his wrist, pressing his palm to her chest. Her heart’s a useless vestige but the vitae makes sure he feels the echo—whatever that means now. “Take it.”

Julian’s jaw clenches. The Beast stirs behind his eyes; ripples in oil spill. For a second, she thinks he’ll agree—let the thread snap tight. Instead, he exhales sharply and steps back. “Not like this.” “Like what? Me begging?” She advances, backing him against the container. “You want me to get on my knees again? Say please?” “I want you to think.” His voice cracks. “Once we cross that line—” “We crossed it when you Embraced me.” “That was different.” “Bullshit. You’ve wanted this since—” They freeze before the gun cocks. “Real fucking cute.” The voice comes from behind a stack of pallets—raspy, smoke-ravaged, distinctly Texan. Julian’s eyes flick to Sol—stay cool. Sol turns very slightly, very slowly. Mid-forties, sun-leathered skin, neck tattoos, camo pants stained with what might be dried blood. Guy’s got a sawed-off shotgun levelled at Julian’s chest. “Y’all the new attack dogs?” He spits tobacco. “Heard you were asking about me. Expected scary vamp motherfuckers to be honest, not two fucking kids playing tonsil hockey.” Sol’s on him before he finishes speaking; fangs bared, pupils catching moonlight, the Beast reflecting it back; a snapping, serrated hunger that unfurls beneath acrid dry lungs and hisses out of her windpipe. Her claws—Caitiff-crude—punch down through the man’s thick wrist like three fucking machetes before he can pull the trigger. The gun clatters. He screams right as GLITCHGOD yells some bullshit about the illuminati, then Sol’s boot’s between his shoulders, pushing him face-first into the dirt. He curls around his hand—what’s left of it. The shotgun lies in pieces.

Julian crouches, karambit hooked to the howling motherfucker’s throat, keeping him relatively still, relatively quiet. “Let’s try this again,” he says. Sire voice. “You’re Marcus Keene. Ghoul. Ex-Camarilla. Recently acquired some very interesting intel about a certain Elder’s haven.” One Marcus Keene continues to weep over the sand. Julian presses the blade deeper. A bead of blood wells. “Look, man, I’d love to do this the hard way—peel you like a grape, feed your intestines to the coyotes—but my associate here?” He nods at Sol. “She’s got dinner plans.” Sol leans down, lips brushing the ghoul’s ear. “I’m starving.” “Talk,” Julian says. He does, to his credit. Sol doesn’t listen. She stares back at the warehouse, eyes glassy. Somehow the music’s gotten louder. There’s a figure hunched and skulking on the roof, not even trying to be subtle. A couple are fucking doggystyle in a ditch, and someone’s getting world-class head behind the shipping container on the other side of the ruins by the sounds of it. Two college girls stumble past the bikers out front. One’s crying, clawing at her own face like she’s trying to peel off her skin, dragging thick black eyeliner into rivets down her greasy cheeks. Blood dribbles from her nose; her neck black and purple with bruises. The other just pulls her along. The desert doesn’t give a fuck about you. Sol looks away. “—are on a b-burner phone—left pocket. But I need—” Julian pats him down, retrieves a phone then stands, wiping his blade on his jeans. “See? Was that so—” Sol breaks the ghoul’s neck with a crisp snap. Julian blinks.

“Or we could do that.” She shrugs, staring at the corpse. Julian watches her, brow furrowed. “You good?” “Great.“ His lips twist, like he’s thinking for a moment. “Sol—” She turns away and starts walking towards the trail.

----------- They take the long way home, windows down, radio blasting System of a Down. Julian drives one-handed, the other drumming the wheel. Sol fixes on the stars, legs folded under her. The silence stretches, thick and prickly. Finally, Julian clears his throat. “Back there… you were right.” She side-eyes him. She doesn’t feel right about anything. “The bond. The Embrace. All of it.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel. “Look, I’m trying to do right by you, but—” “But you’re a vampire. I’m a vampire. We’re fucked.” Julian forces a laugh. “Basically.” She studies his profile—the slope of his nose, the set of his jaw. He runs a hand through his hair. Her fingers itch to trace the cross earring dangling from his lobe. “Pull over.” He glances at her, suddenly alert, frowning. “What? Why?” “Pull. Over.” He swerves the Geo onto the shoulder, dust pluming around them. Before he can speak, she’s straddling him, seatbelt digging into her thighs. “Solona—” She kisses him; needy, deep, but sweet, her hands cradling his face. He tenses, then melts, mouth opening under hers, tongue licking into it. Her nails card across his scalp just how he likes. Julian moans, pulling back slightly, dropping his face to her chest. “You’re overcomplicating this,” Sol murmurs into his hair after a moment, fingers still grazing gently, scratching the nape of his neck. He turns his head to the side. His eyes stare up at her, pupils huge, brows pulled apart, and suddenly he’s not her Sire—just another dumb fucking fledgling. “Am I?” “Yes.” She unbuttons her dress, letting it pool around her waist. Julian breathes, softly, unnecessarily. “You want me. I want you. The rest is noise.” “Sol, the bond is—” “Fuck it.” She rolls her hips, making his head loll back with another quiet moan. “I asked for the Embrace. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” “But that’s the thing. You might not have a choice soon.” His hands find her thighs, grip soft, steadying. He won’t meet her eyes. Sol leans in, lips brushing his.

----------- Later—much later—when the seats are pushed back and they’re tangled together, limbs slick with sweat and vitae, Sol traces the veins on his wrist. “I don’t want to be careful anymore,” she whispers. “I want it. Nothing else feels like this. Nothing else feels like you.” He tugs her closer, nose buried in her hair, arms tightening, but says nothing. She licks along his forearm, tasting salt and iron, then agonizes suddenly, wanting to attempt levity—but he was always better at that. Julian is silent. She meets his gaze. The Beast is there, pacing behind his eyes, but so is something else—something fragile. She kisses his wrist. The desert swallows the rest.

[lethalchiralium]

Come Undone

It was the last large mixer of the mission for a few days, the target’s wife having invited you and your husband to join. Little did she know, Julia and Jackson Houghton weren’t married, nor were they real - they were Sergeant Y/N “Lucky” L/N and Captain John Price.

You had left John’s side early on after you two had walked in, arm in arm. Your earpiece snug in your ear, hidden by your perfectly set hair. The makeup was light tonight as you had done it yourself instead of the team Laswell hired, since they did your hair. It was all show, even in the salon - you and John making idle “married” couple talk, gossiping about your fake sister’s marriage.

You waltzed your way to the bar, knowing the target’s wife would be more than pleased to see you. She was an unlikely acquaintance, as she was described to be silent and hostile. The bartender approached you, you ordered a martini and a glass of water. You settled on the plush bar seat, resisting the urge to look to John for affirmation like you would with your bulletproof vest on and your rifle nestled in your hands. Now?

Now you can’t think straight when you think about him and those dizzying kisses he left you with late last night. It’s been an intense four months - going from thinking you’ll be single forever to making out with your captain. Alone. In a hotel bed. Your feelings were knotted together like headphone wires, all sorts of feelings stuck where they shouldn’t be. Then why did his lips on yours feel so right? Even if they were fake in the beginning?

A light touch pulled you from your inner monologue, you looked to your right to see the target’s model-like wife, Anna. She gave you a smile as you returned it, pushing the fresh martini in front of her. She nodded knowingly, taking a sip. You took in the almost empty bar, knowing the men had abandoned it to talk business along the walls - there weren’t many wives brought along, none of the remaining three wanted anything to do with Anna. This meant you had her alone, in the corner of the bar against the wall, somewhat private.

“I hope your sex life is better than mine.” Anna let out a soft chuckle, manicured nails tapped against the stem of the glass.

You instantly grew uncomfortable, you didn’t dare show it. Only a small smirk and a drink of your water. “That’s not something I like to talk about in public.”

She laughed a little, moving the glass to her red lips before she asked, “What, is he bad?” You shook your head, she took a drink before continuing, “Gross kinks?”

You were surprised at that comment, eyes widening and you stumbled over your words, “What? No, no, he’s…” You trailed off, unsure of what to say. You couldn’t think straight about him anymore, not with this feelings bullshit in the way. “He’s good to me.”

“I would hope, he looks bigger in the - what do you call it - junk than my own husband.” She took another drink of the martini, obviously in an annoyed mood. The glass was settled on the bar, her tongue lapped up the excess from her lips. “I hope you’re at least not hurting when you’re done.”

There’s just a moment where you’re able to truly observe her - long silver dress, scuffed silver bangles around her wrists and a forming bruise underneath. Her earrings were different this night; instead of the long, elegant pearl or diamond earrings, they were simple diamond studs. Her hair kept on one side, probably to hide bruising. It wasn’t uncommon that you saw her with bruising, her husband was a violent and easily angered man from John’s account.

She seemed interested in you tonight. Maybe distraction helps.

“He’s gentle.” You spoke softly, eyes catching a glimpse of John across the room. He was beside a few of the target’s colleagues and the target himself, all of the men were laughing. John’s smile didn’t have the same sparkle it did with you, you watched his eyes as they flickered to you. You smiled back, Anna followed your look. “That’s what I like. He’s strong everywhere else but with me, he’s gentle.”

“John-“

You were practically shaking with anticipation. John’s hands finally holding your hips as he kissed you - fingernails dug into the cotton of your sleep shirt. He was drawing almost every breath from your lips, like he wanted to taste the air in your lungs. His shirt was gone, your hands slid up his toned and hairy torso to his neck - little half crescents dug into the back of his neck by your nails.

“I know,” He breathed, knee coming up to press in between your thighs - sleep shirt riding up, you had just come from the shower when you were forced to talk in the living room. A talk that landed you on your back, pulling John down with you. Kisses fierce against your lips, skin, as he panted, “M’gonna touch ya, is that okay?”

There was a noise from the nightstand as John’s fingers threaded the hem of your t-shirt, you were bursting at the seams . He was going too slow, you needed his body against yours at that very second.

“Captain Price, come in.”

It would make your cheeks burn if you didn’t remember yourself coming to your senses, telling him to get out and that you shouldn’t be doing this. You couldn’t forget the way sadness crept into his expression, the tears on your cheeks an intense feeling after you locked the door after him.

You had fucked up big time.

“What a real man should be like, hm?”

You looked to Anna, her gaze full of longing and melancholy. Her curled black lashes had seen tears earlier in the evening, you could tell by the residual redness in her eyes. Your hand gently settled on her forearm, a comforting gesture you had not done before with her; yet she accepted it. Her hand settled on top of yours, gazing down at her own diamond wedding ring.

Anything you can get about their personal life will help the team succeed. The dirtiest, saddest secrets. Everything. Dig for it, Lucky.

“I’m sorry, Anna.” You spoke gently, a genuine condolence in your voice.

She shook her head a little, wiping a tear with her finger quickly. “Thank you.” She patted your hand for just a moment, a grateful gesture. “You are a good friend, Julia.”

You could barely hear Laswell in your ear over the commotion of the event, but you knew it wasn’t good. You looked back to John, who wasn’t looking at you as he moved away from his group to hold his phone to his ear. Something was happening. Something wasn’t right.

Anna gently pulled your hand from her arm, you looked back at her. She gave you a warm smile and you brought your drink to your lips. “Listen, I would like to invite you and your husband to my home for dinner.”

You honestly almost choke on your drink but you were smooth with it, laughing a little. “It wouldn’t be until Jack gets some business done at home, he’s anxious to get back to his office. All these suits aren’t his favorite thing.” You looked back to John, seeing him walking straight towards you. “Jack-?”

“Jules, we need to go.” He spoke softly, hand out and you instantly took it. You gave Anna a soft smile as you slid off the stool. There was definitely some intense look in his eyes, you couldn’t place it but it made your chest constrict.

“But-“

“Julia, before you go,” She held her hand out to John, a little look in her eye before she rolled them, “A pen, Mr. Houghton.” If this wasn’t John playing a character, he would’ve smacked her hand away. You’ve seen him do it. He glanced at you before digging into his suit jacket, pulling out a nice silver pen.

You recognized that pen. It was a pen you had specifically purchased for John years ago, certainly long enough to have been lost in between then and now. Your eyes widened a little bit as Anna moved to write her number down on her napkin, a crucial piece to accessing the Zharkov personal web of lies - it was quite literally one of the most important pieces that was thought to be unobtainable. You looked back to Anna as she handed the napkin with nice handwriting on it.

“My phone number. Call me when you two are free, hm?” She smiled at you, brighter this time. “I have better vodka there, though I can’t say I know why you don’t drink.”

“A story for another time.” John interrupted, his hand clamped on your wrist. “We really need to go, it’s important.”

You wished you could stay for longer, but it wasn’t possible. “Bye Anna.” You whispered before you walked away with John, his arm slid around yours as he pulled you towards the door, phone in his hand. “What’s going on?”

“Stupid fucks don’t know how to run anything while I’m gone.” He snarled, louder than his normal speaking voice as you two pass the target and his little posse of friends. John dialed one-handed, a number you didn’t recognize. Out the door in mere seconds, he got a hold of whoever he dialed. “Tell me what happened.”

“Jackson-“ You muttered, eyes watching the sets of bodyguards in the hall, you two walked even faster. You were almost stumbling over your dress by the time you had reached the outside world, the cold breeze instantly causing you to shutter. John just gave you a look. We need to leave. “I’ll-“

“I’ll get the taxi, take this.” He handed you the phone, you grabbed it without hesitation.

The snow was coming down thick, your long coat left inside as John hailed a cab in crowded London. He looked to you, noticing your shaking frame as you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

[bcntleejwls]

1. two tone diamond barbed wire bangles 2. 18kt gold cross pendant set with emerald cut pigeon blood rubies and diamond halo’s.

[ left to right ] curated by lisa g.

[heavenlyhoundoom]

I read the cookie virus au by anxietymonstrr on TikTok and Twitter.

And I decided, "What if there was a multi crossover au, where crossover from many shows got caught up in this cookie outbreak?" So here we are.

Survivors:

1.MLP

.Rainbow Dash

.Applejack

.Rarity

.Fluttershy

.Shining Armor

.Spike

.Applebloom

.Sweetie Belle

.Scootaloo

.Lyra

.Doctor Hooves

.Zecora

.Starlight Glimmer

.Smolder

.Gallus

.Snips

2.Bluey

.Bluey Heeler

.Mort Cattle

.Radley Heeler

.Frisky Heeler

.Judo

.Wendy

.Snickers' Dad

.Winton

.Cornelius

.The Terriers

.The Terriers' Mum

.Rusty

.Rusty's Dad

.Dusty

.Pat

.Chucky

.Jack

.Jack's Mum

.Lila

.Rover Cattle(my oc that supposed to be Brandy's son)

.Juniper

.Indie

.Indie's mum

3.Adventure Time

.Finn

.Jake

.Cherry Cream Soda

.Princess Bubblegum

.Marceline

.Fool

.Moon

.Empress

.Hierophant

.Vampire King

.Flame Princess

.Lemongrab

.Sweet Pea

4.Helluva Boss

.Blitzø

.Loona

.Mallory(my head cannon oc of Moxxie and Millie's child, based on a dream I had where Millie decided to keep the baby and it looked like a female version of Moxxie)

.Mrs. Mayberry

.Sallie May

.Fizz

.Stolas

.Octavia

.Vortex

.Verosika Mayday

.Coco

.Josh

.Kiki

.Andrew

.Gigi

5.Hazbin Hotel

.Charlie

.Vaggie

.Alastor

.Husk

.Velvette

.Vox

.Zestial

.Carmilla

.Clara

.Odette

6.Animal Crossing

.Tom Nook

.Timmy

.Tommy

.Isabelle

.Mabel

.Sable

.Label

.C.J

.Daisy Mae

.Whitney

.Boomer

.Biff

.Merengue

.Phoebe

.Henry

.Elvis

.Bangle

7.Spongebob

.Mr.Krabs

.Mrs.Puff

.Pearl

.Gary

.Plankton

.Sandy

.Larry

8.Gravity Falls

.Dipper

.Mabel

.Stanford

.Stanley

.Wendy

.Soos

.Sheriff Blubs

.Debuty Durland

.Melody

9.Regular Show

.Benson

.Eileen 

.Carter

.Briggs

.Hilary

.Margaret

.Pam

10.Sonic the hedgehog

.Sonic

.Shadow

.Blaze

.Vanilla

.Cheese

.Chocolate

.Eggman

.Rouge

.Knuckles

.Charmy

.Espio

.Tangle

.Storm

.Silver

Smiling infecteds

1.MLP

. Diamond Tiara

.BonBon

.Granny Smith

.Derpy

.Cheese Sandwich

.Flitter

.Pipsqueak

.Cherry Fizzy

.Yona

.Silverstream

.Thunderlane

.Sunburst

2.Bluey

.Chilli Heeler

.Bandit Heeler

.Bingo Heeler

.Chris Heeler

.Stripe Heeler

.Trixie Heeler

.Lulu

.Digger

.Snickers

.Snickers' Mum

.Chloe

.Lucky

.Calypso

.Daisy

.Buddy

3.Adventure Time

.Betty

.LSP

.Gunter

.Peppermint Butler

.Turtle Princess

.Abracadaniel

.Tree Trunks

.Mr.Pig

.Wildberry Princess

.Breakfast Princess

.Fern

.Boobafina

.Charlie

4.Helluva Boss

.Millie

.Stella

.Apple

.Wally Wackford

.Keenie

.Loopy Goopty

.Lyle Lipton

.Emberlynn Pinkle

.Vikki

.Vassago

.Chaz

.Kat

.Oliver

5.Hazbin Hotel

.Angel Dust

.Nifty

.Cherri Bomb

.Mimzy

.Travis

.Fat Nuggets

.Razzle

.Dazzle

.Rosie

.Missi Zilla

6.Animal Crossing

.Blathers

.Celeste

.Flick

.Poppy

.Sherb

.Audie

.Frett

.Shari

.Axel

.Bree

.Eugene

.Reese

.Dr.Shrunk

7.Spongebob

.Squidward

.Mermaid Man

.Margaret

.Harold

.Craig Mammalton

.Granny Tentacles

.Judy

.Billy

.Narlene

8.Gravity Falls

.Pacifica

.Gideon

.Abuelita

.Grenda

.Jeff

.Shmebulock

.Davey

9.Regular show

.Mordecai

.Rigby

.Stef

.C.J

.Muscle Man

.Coffe Bean

.Peggy

10.Sonic the Hedgehog

.Tails

.Amy

.Vector

.Jet

.Sally

.Pearly

.Marine

.Ray

.Rotor

Frowning infecteds

1.Mlp

.Silver Spoon

.Big Macintosh

.Cloud Chaser

.Button Mash

.Octavia

.Comet Tail

.Soarin

.Sandbar

.Ocellus

.Minuette

.Vinyl Scratch

.Carrot Top

2.Bluey

.Brandy Cattle

.Bob Heeler

.Socks Heeler

.Rusty's Mum

.Jack's Dad

.Janelle

.Honey

.Marcus

.Coco

.Bella(Coco's mum)

.Mackenzie

.Juniper's mum

.Juniper's brother

3.Adventure Time

.Melissa

.Ice King

.Rap Bear

.Lady Ranicorn

.Slime Princess

.Little Dude

.Jermaine

.Flying Lettuce Brothers

.TV

.Viola

4.Helluva Boss

.Moxxie

.Ace

.Andrealphus

.Milky

.Martha

.Opal

.Barbie Wire

.Tim

.Collin

.Cash Buckso

5.Hazbin Hotel

.Crymimi

.Arackniss

.Helsa von Eldritch

.Katie Killjoy

.Egg Bois

6.Animal Crossing

.Cyrus

.Mitzi

.Genji

.Agnes

.Wolfgang

.Mathilda

.Hans

.Pinky

.Drago

.Digby

.Gracie

.Phyllis

7.Spongebob

.Spongebob

.Barnacle Boy

.Bubble Bass

.Sam

.Betsy Krabs

.Fred

.Tom

8.Gravity Falls

.Beardy

.Candy

.Robbie

.Shandra

.Preston

.Priscilla

.Tambry

9.Regular Show

.Starla

.Lazy Dave

.Manny

.Mr.Maellard

.Celia

.Denise

.Doug

10.Sonic the Hedgehog

.Sticks

.Mighty

.Wave

.Rough

.Tumble

.Akhlut

.Big

.Whisper

Dead characters

1.Mlp

.Berry Punch

.Written Script

.Merry May

.Lemon Hearts

.Meadow Song

.Snails

.Flash Sentry

2.Bluey

.Unicorse

.Jeremy

.Maynard

3.Adventure Time

.Mr.Fox

.Rootbeer Guy

.Raggedy Princess

.Mrs.Cow

.Tiffany

.King of Ooo

.Toronto

4.Helluva Boss

.Crimson

.Striker

.Glitz

.Glam

.Cleetus

.Shrimp

.Dennis

.Ronaldo

.Paimon

.Robin

5.Hazbin Hotel

.Henroin

.Valentino

.Tom Trench

.Dia

.Frederick von Eldritch

.Baxter

6.Animal Crossing

.Sarah

.Leif

.Pascal

.Coach

.Elise

.Beardo

.Jambette

.Ricky

.Cashmere

.Olaf

.Twiggy

7.Spongebob

.Patrick

.Dirty Bubble

.Frank

.Perch Perkens

.Squilliam Fancyson

8.Gravity Falls

.Thompson

.Lee

.Nate

.Carson

.Steve

.Gabe

.Fiddleford McGucket

9.Regular show

.Muscle Bro

.Buttonwillow McButtonwillow

.Chuck

.Kessler

.Gene

10.Sonic the hedgehog

.Cream

.Doctor Starline

.Kip

.Clutch

.Surge

.Max

Characters who are immune

1.Mlp

.Princess Celestia

.Princess Luna

.Princess Cadence

.Twilight Sparkle

.Flurry Heart

.Discord

.Terek

.Pinkie Pie

2.Bluey

.Muffin Heeler

3.Adventure Time

.Prismo

.Cosmic Owl

.Life

.Death

.Glob, Grob, Gob, and Grod

.Golb

.Hudson Abadeer

.Life Giving Magus

.Bmo

.Neptr

.Kim Kil Whan

.Jake Jr

4.Helluva Boss

.Satan

.Beelzebub

.Mammon

.Asmodeus

.Leviathan

.Belphegor

5.Hazbin Hotel

.Lucifer

.Lilith

.Lute

.Adam

.St.Peter

.Emily

.Sarah

.God

6.Animal Crossing

.Wisp

.Jack

.Blanca

.Coco

.Cephelabot

.Sprocket

.Ribbot

7.Spongebob

.Neptune

.Amphitrite

.Triton

.Mindy

.The Flying Dutchman

.Karen

8.Gravity Falls

.Bill Cipher

.Pyronica

.Time Baby

.Keyhole

.8 Ball

.Teeth

.Xanthar

9.Regular Show

.Pops

.Skips

.High Five Ghost

.Gary

.Every God character

.Death

10.Sonic the hedehog

.Infinite

.Metal Sonic

.Belle

.Omega

.Orbot

.Cubot

[beneathsilverstars]

@horatiocomehome replied

ooo how about jewelry taste. dangly earrings vs studs, do they wear bracelets, rings, flashy vs elegant, etc

mirabelle has so many cute trinkets! we know she loves accessories that go ding ding, and she'll layer a ton of necklaces so they knock against each other. sometimes they all match nicely, sometimes it's eclectic chic! she adores metal charms and carved beads, especially charmingly unusual shapes like an itty bitty fork, ducky, book, etc. as well as classics like lockets and bells! she tends to fidget with rings and lose track of them, so she avoids those. post-canon she decides to stop wearing earrings, so she turns her novelty earrings into bracelet/necklace charms! and gives her more basic studs to isabeau so he'll actually own some basics.

isabeau is all about shapes and contrast, so he likes chunky beads in materials like turquoise or jasper that have different shades marbled together, metal geometric shapes, wire-wrapped stone, and unique arrangements of elements. he likes funny noises too, but will go for one complicated necklace instead of multiple single strands. he definitely tends towards statement necklaces and earrings — he used to run into trouble because he only had statement pieces, so they would clash terribly, but then he started buying more matching sets. he loves bonding earrings as a romantic, but is a little torn because there's no way any two earrings could match all of his fits...

odile is the kind of person to pick a nice look and stick to it, so there's not much variety in her accessories. she has her glasses gems, a pair of pearl studs, a pair of silver studs, and a couple sentimental rings that she keeps somewhere safe instead of wearing. we know bonding earrings are popular in ka bue but not as universal as in vaugarde; i think it would be cute if ka bue had a whole language of earrings and rings, with different gem types/cuts/colors denoting different sorts of relationships and emotions. so she's got, like, a [daughter, you are the most important thing in my life] ring from her dad, and a [lover, we change each other] ring from an ex.

siffrin is all about sentimental pieces!! it doesn't really occur to him to buy himself jewelry, but isa or mira will see him looking at something in the market and buy it for him and suddenly the aesthetic appeal that sif had mildly enjoyed doesn't matter at all compared to They Gave This To Me. siffrin tends to be drawn towards solid shades or starry dots, and smooth, swirling shapes. isa also gets them stimmy pieces like a bumpy bangle or spinny ring, and mira gets them cute things that remind her of them like star pins or kitty charms. he's just so fun to give trinkets to, even bonnie and odile have gotten him some, so he's working up quite a collection! he carefully rotates through everything, and keeps some pieces in his pockets when he can't fit everything he wants onto his body or doesn't want to wear any jewelry that day.

bonnie's bracelet is smooth wood, and they're going to be very upset the day it no longer fits over their hand. they prefer non-rock materials like wood, shells, bones, and sea glass, because that's just way more fun! they made shell necklaces with nille all the time, so many that it doesn't matter how often they lose them.

loop goes full magpie! since they don't have to buy necessities like food, they're less careful about spending money than siffrin, plus they're more desperate to capture any scrap of joy. they also have a bit of "everyone else is an npc" brain and "i am both above and beneath normal rules", so they're more comfortable with stealing than siffrin is. they like drapey chains, black and white beads, and unusual pieces. they like the pressure stim of very heavy necklaces and the clack of many bracelets. once when one of their favorites broke they procured the tools to fix it, and started modifying the stuff they own and stringing trinkets onto chains!

[jennifernicolejewelry]

[panakina]

Did i ever post about my homebrew DC hero?

The Battler, he’s a middle aged Australian travelling across America in a beat up toyota hilux, divorced, working class, with extreme Dad energy.

His stories are all 90s family movie stuff: he is saving the rec centre, he is getting grandma across the state in time for the wedding, he is proving that nowhere in the rule book does it say an alien starfish can’t play basketball. His weapon of choice is a cricket bat or the beer bottle currently in his hand. He’s an electrician and he will probably check your wiring after helping you out, since he’s there. Cops don’t like him. Kids love him, and so do single moms, but he isn’t over his ex-wife yet, who he only ever has good things to say about.

He never gets involved in any world ending storylines. He’ll be in Gotham while scarecrow has taken half the city hostage, but he’s not here for that, he’s helping a teen mom get her deposit back from a dodgy landlord. Brainiac is taking over the world, and he’s teaching a clueless college kid how to change a tyre on the side of the road. He met Wonder Woman once and complimented her on her shiny bangles.

He has a mild gambling problem and a max of $60 in his pocket at any one time. He has beef with captain boomerang that starts and stops with ‘he’s a cunt.’

[skylandart]

A very handy guide (not really) on how to draw Javi Garcia’s metal arm. By sky <3

This is a LONG post so it’s gonna be under the cut. I’m messy 😹

So here we have some very pretty sketches of an arm. Javi’s right arm got blown off, so we’re gonna draw his right arm only :D

The first thing we do over the arm sketches is draw rings. Or bangles. Whatever you’d call em. These rings are on the biceps and the forearm, the elbow joint does not have rings. Number of rings depends on how you draw em, ofc. I usually go with 4-5

Next we come up with the shield plates. There are two types of shield plates, one for the biceps, and one for the forearm. I’ve roughly sketched out their shapes. You have two of these on either muscle, and they’re drawn like plates, or scales, one above the other.

After that, we just double layer the PLATES. not the rings. Only the plates.

Next we come to the knuckles. They have a weird pentagon type of shape, with two layers along the top and one in the bottom. A little circle, which is the power source of Javi’s arm follows in the middle.

For the fingers, it’s yet another shape that I drew. It looks like a teacup to me idky. Just use them on the little parts of the fingers. The palm side of the hand has nothing. Just plain black stuff. Idk what stuff that is.

Then, add the blues. The power source on the knuckles is blue, as are the wires that connect both of the forearm and bicep plates.

After that, I just cleaned the sketch up a little bit. Hide all the rough sketch parts.

Then, we add the golds. The bigger parts of the plates are gold, except the two rectangular plates under the bicep ones. The EDGES of those are gold. For the others, the edges are silver. The rings are also silver.

Everything that isn’t silver, gold or blue, is black.

And TA DA. You’ve mastered drawing Javi’s arm. You’re welcome :D

Can you tell I’ve drawn it enough times to just. Brrrrrr??

[flyingfazfoxes]

Rough Sketch of Pirate's Cove

it's an enormous soft-playground area that's surprinsingly (and infuriatingly0 popular across the board.

The kids love the custom built playground, teens love the ropes course and zipline, and adults like that it's the one place in the Pizzaplex that's almost free.

Twice a day, Foxy's Crew preforms their comedy/gymnastics/theatre show on the "back" of their ship, which opens up into a custom stage (in-game this would connect to what was originally the Superstar Theatre). While no where NEAR the size of the Glamrock concerts, they still gather quite the crowd.

Plus, there's the flume ride... when it actually works that is.

While technically you are supposed to leave your toddlers with the Daycare attendant, i

Despite the size and lack of human attendants, Pirate's Cove has notably the least amount of accidents, with really only the occasional wire or zipline mishap from a inattentive staff member.

The Flume ride is Foxy's attraction, though it is infamous for shutting down. There was talk of bringing back an old water show with Chica, (Chica of the Sea) but with the trouble the Flume ride was bringing in, management that has since been shut down.

Bitty and Bangle share the Zipline, and from there you can get to just about any spot in the Pizzaplex on the floors across and below. Just remember it's a one way trip!

[a-flickering-soul]

How I Stopped Worrying And Learned To Love Bones: The Harrow Cosplay

Or: I felt like doing a little writeup of the making of my Harrowhark Nonagesimus cosplay because I worked hard on it and this is also basically the first cosplay I actually completed. And I'm also just very proud of it.

I knew from the start I wanted the silhouette to essentially be a triangle, since I deeply believe that Harrow in full vestments is like a little walking cone. This is also deeply influenced by the many years I spent in church choir wearing those dinky little robes.

The first thing I figured out was the headpiece. I knew I wanted the hair to be covered (both in a religious way and also so I wouldn't have to wear a wig), but when it comes to hair coverings, there's a lot of ways it could go. I initially considered mantillas, to go with the whole Catholicism of it all, but unfortunately I was possessed with the spirit of half my ancestors and decided to drape a scarf like a dupatta (I considered making maang tikka to go with it, but had a hard time with the logistics of that). I found a drapy, thin black scarf at a thrift store and held onto it for a while. You can tell from the picture that it's pretty sheer and also a good length.

I szuszed it up by hand-stitching some white lace to it (since I'm very taken with the idea of the Ninth producing lace like all good nunneries did), as well as some seashell beads in a suitable bonelike color and these very cool tiny silver skull beads. These are only on the front of my scarf as a nice little decoration.

For the rest of the jewelry, Sculpey really came through. I used it to make some (outsized) teeth to create a rosary, along with some very cool volcanic rock beads. Individually knotting each bead and tooth was a huge time sink, but definitely worth it visually. Nine teeth for each of the houses.

I also made some bone bangles out of Sculpey (although this was towards the end of things when I was kind of losing steam).

My metamour @benthicbimbo was fucking amazing though and literally?? made thee most beautiful phalanges choker out of Sculpey and velvet ribbon and they're weathered and textured so beautifully and it's such a wonderful piece I genuinely wear it around places quite often.

And because they're incredible they also made these beautiful faux earrings for me that I tragically forgot to wear during Halloween but do look genuinely stunning!!! Like what!!!!!

For the big layers, I genuinely got the best luck at Goodwill in one fell swoop and I have no idea how I got this lucky. The dress is Shein (and once you touch it that fact is very obvious) and the overcoat is a CQ by CQ trench coat someone didn't want anymore (sans belt). These combined with the dupatta really solidified the silhouette and both the pattern of the dress and the brocade on the overcoat really were exactly what I was looking for and it was a sheer stroke of luck that I found both of them in one go.

And now, the big boy: the ribcage corset. I wrestled with this thing for what felt like ages and I'm decently pleased with it, but I definitely have plans for improvement. I started off with a wire frame just to see what kind of shape I wanted-- I took inspiration from the book cover, but slutted it up a little with the titty cups because I felt like having fun. This was made with floral wire and duct tape.

Once I had it to a point where it was reasonably symmetric and fit to my body, I added a very thin layer of quilt batting. The goal of this step was to add bulk without weight or necessarily a gajillion layers of plaster or paper mache. As a friend of mine described it, it looked like low-poly gore.

From here, I added two layers of paper mache since I really wanted it to be rigid-- I did not want this to flex with me as I moved or really flex at all. I wanted to really sell that this was made of bone.

It was at this point I realized I fucked up enormously because the bottom was very asymmetric and I never did a final fit to myself, but it turned out okay anyways, especially combined with the overcoat. I slapped a few layers of acrylic paint over it and used a black ribbon to just tie it around my back-- it was going to be covered by the overcoat anyways so I didn't think too hard about that part.

And that's pretty much it! The black leather gloves are my usual winter gear, and the shoes are my everyday officewear black heels. The face paint design was a mix of the book cover, some fanart I'd seen, and some mockups a friend of mine made for me.

Overall, I had a ton of fun putting together what I feel like is my first con-worthy cosplay, and it was a massive upgrade from last year's cosplay. I'm not 100% satisfied with the ribcage-- I believe I can do better-- but this method was pretty solid (I'd recommend overestimating spaces between ribs though when making the frame). The face paint also wasn't my best work-- thick cream paint is a huge bitch to work with and I didn't have any brushes, but it got the point across. Either way, this cosplay was enormously fun to put together, actually quite comfortable to wear and move around in, and very satisfying to look at. As a reward or perhaps punishment for reading this far, a mandatory couples' cosplay with my beloathed Gideon (my dear @laserlesbians). Happy belated boneday!

[tanukitsuneko-suki]

build episode 26 thoughts:

- omfg...oh god. if banjo turns his back on sento i don't think i'll be able to take it (and neither will sento) (usually i try to take flattering screenshots but i appreciate my son even if he's a little fugly) (i won't be retaking this one)

- ..wait. huh... huh???

- I THOUGHT THAT PLOT THREAD WAS DEAD IN THE WATER WE ARE SO BACKKKKKKK. FUCKKK I'M SO HAPPY BECAUSE IT'S ONE OF THE MYSTERIES I LATCHED ON TO FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A WHILE (i think spy twists only work when you've already latched on to the characters in suspicion) (i didn't feel anything with the sawa one) (and i never trusted master...i am sorry...)

- PLEASE BE BANJO. I DON'T THINK HE'S EVIL IT WOULD JUST BE A VERY EXCITING TWIST FOR ME

- does he already know who it is? :( [fish's delusion corner: sento already knows the spy is banjo but he knows banjo isn't doing it consciously so he doesn't hold a grudge against him and is figuring out countermeasures (double thumbs up)]

- banjo nodding even though he knows fuckall about the terminologies sento is using. we love a supportive boyfriend <3 go kinggg

- banjo asking the real questions (“does that mean you can combine two organic bottles…”) and sento ignoring him omfg 😭😭

- is sawa the spy 🙁

- rabbit x rabbit….rabbit^2…a power level rising exponentially…

- maybe the best match thing is some silly math bs where each bottle has an intrinsic value that should be multiplied with another bottle to be equal in all results?? like maybe rose is 3 and helicopter is 6 so 3x6 and all the panels need to have “18” as a result. god what am i even saying

- it’s sawa isn’t it :-|

- KAZUMIN NEVER FORGET WHAT THE WRITERS TOOK FROM YOU (your three besties bc they want u to bond with ur new pack or w/e)

- i’m gonna be honest, banjo saying “well then, let’s begin the experiment” brought a chill down my spine. i even wondered if sento took his place or something. scary.

- “we get stronger when we fight, right?” bro i thought banjo was gonna kick the makeshift grave down or something 😭

- wire…tap in the bottles?

- wait.

- did stalk fucking steal someone’s face ?? i made a quick rundown just now i don’t know who he would impersonate?? if it’s sento why would he give him a hint, misora’s bangle cannot be replicated, banjo just discovered the wiretap and like okay maybe it’s grease. maybe it’s grease

- it’s sawa…is it sawa… sigh.. i forgot to note earlier but i also did vote for sawa because she was shown in the car with pres nanba and stalk…sigh…yeah stalk said that nanba children are brainwashed to be loyal to nanba corp no matter what so like…i guess sawa’s allegiances didn’t change at all she was just never on their side to begin with…the foreshadowing was there i just didn’t wanna look..

- “this work is my specialty” it’s sawa

- anyway i do love the writers just narrowing down the circle of people sento cares about. it’s so fun. like sure just make everyone else betray his expectations so he gets super protective of the guys he does have (misora, banjo, and kazumin). love that for him

- predictions: kazumin win (3x grief vs mob chara), banjo lose (sento needs to show up), sento deciding match

- girl i’m not even sad i’m just disappointed with sawa 😭😭

- GREASE FUCKING LOST???!?!! MY GOAT I COUNTED ON YOU 😭 wait no the grief.. KAAAZUMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN

- not this windbreaker “my fists are heavier because i carry everyone’s hopes on my shoulders” type beat 😂

- “right now i get the feeling i can’t lose”

me: that’s banjo’s line

banjo: he just stole my line

me: watch out baby he might steal your boyfriend next

- now we need sento screaming about how this “is his type of party!!” to complete the trifecta of linegrabbing

- banjo don’t cheer too hard, if grease won that means you’re gonna lose 😂

- oh shit they rigged it against my son??? TIMEOUT