#Cosmic Parade

[dragaliareferencearchive]

Model references for Cosmic Parade -Emu Otori -Nene Kusanagi -MEIKO -Kagamine Rin

Cosmic Carnival -Tsukasa Tenma -Rui Kamishiro -KAITO -Kagamine Len Project Sekai: Colorful Stage!

Concept art by Rellakinoko and sdurorhr

[artroidsart]

I REALLY need to draw my OC's more often! I have fallen off!!!

One of these days, I HAVE to start working on Minidroid's story. I plan on reworking my Cosmic Rangers storyline, but I just haven't felt motivate to sit down and write something. One day I want to draw her, the next I want to make crochet plushies. My creativity has a mind of its own.

Anyway, I was able to make this pretty quickly! It helps that I had some Vocaloid and FNF music playing. Something about fast music gets me motivated. I think this is a VAST improvement from the last time I made Pride art for Minidroid. Not just the new character design, but the outfit is MUCH better. I was inspired by the Sunset Dress from Hello Kitty Island Adventure. The game is having a Pride event right now called Paper Parade, and you should have seen my face when I found out you can dye the dress into different Pride colors!

[poinkyboinky]

FAMOUS LAST WORDS IS THE ONLY SONG EVER I WANT ALL THE LYRICS TATTOOED ALL OVER ME AND THE SONG TO BE BLASTING IN MY EARS FOREVER

THANK YOU GERARD WAY!!!!

[theshoegirldiaries]

One should have a suitable perfume for any occasion (and FYI, this is how you produce a fragrance called Cosmic), pity I can't see the Planetary Parade though 😔

[ruinedholograms]

(1971-1983)

[tuxedomoon-64]

Lost in Music 1992 Sven Väth,Cosmic Baby,Tanith u.a. (Interviews)

[silverravenwolf-author]

February Cosmic Alignment - Creative Flow by Silver RavenWolf

4 Minute Read Throughout human history, planetary alignments held deep spiritual significance. Today, many spiritual/magickal traditions view these events as portals of heightened energy and transformation. For many practitioners, the alignment of celestial bodies creates a unique energetic pattern that may influence the Earth and its inhabitants – a testament that math and science intertwine…

[ruloaapaul]

STORYTIME BITCHES — HOW I ACCIDENTALLY SLEEP PARALYZED MYSELF INTO THE VOID STATE.

you wanna hear a little story time about how i fucking slid into the void state like it was my DMs at 2 AM? well, grab a snack and buckle the fuck up, because this is about to be the most chaotic, unhinged, and ICONIC void state experience you’ll ever hear. and yes, it all started with fucking sleep paralysis.

***

i was minding my damn business, trying to fall asleep like a normal human being. except—plot twist, bitch—i woke up, but my body DIDN’T. now, I’m no stranger to sleep paralysis. this wasn’t my first rodeo. but usually, i’d get all dramatic, start internally screaming, panicking, and trying to force my body to wake up like i was trapped in a horror movie. not today, satan. this time, i thought, “you know what? fuck it. let’s roll with it.” and baby, that was the best decision I EVER made.

***

so im lying there, completely frozen, staring at the ceiling, unable to even wiggle a toe. normally, this is where people start panicking. but i said, “NOPE. we’re gonna turn this sht into a spiritual awakening.” instead of fighting it, i just relaxed into it. And that’s when things got weird as fuck.

***

all of a sudden, my body started feeling weightless. like, full-on “i just smoked something illegal” type of floating. my arms? gone. my legs? didn’t know her. my entire physical body? irrelevant. it felt like i was sinking and floating at the same time, like my consciousness just detached from my body. and at this point, i had two options:

1. freak out and fuck it all up.

2. stay calm and become the baddest void-state diva alive.

so, obviously, i chose option 2.

***

the next thing i knew, i was in a space of pure blackness. no thoughts, no body, no sense of time—just infinite stillness. it wasn’t scary. it wasn’t boring. it was just… nothingness. and bitch, let me tell you, it was the most peaceful thing i’ve ever felt. this was it. this was the VOID STATE. now, you know me—i wasn’t about to waste this golden opportunity just floating around like some lost soul. i had shit to manifest.

***

once i realized i was in the void, i got straight to work. i didn’t waste time asking questions. i didn’t overthink it. i just stated my desires like the main character that I am.

“i have unlimited confidence.” boom, felt it sink in immediately.

“i manifest money effortlessly.” boom, i could feel abundance already flowing my way.

“my life is a fucking dream.” boom, reality bent to my will.

i wasn’t asking for these things. i wasn’t hoping for them. i just said it, felt it, and it was done. and that, my friends, is the real power of the void state. no resistance. no effort. just instant manifestation.

***

at some point, my body decided it was done being paralyzed, and i snapped right the fuck back into my bed. one second, i was vibing in the void, the next? i was staring at my ceiling like i just got hit by a cosmic bus.

and let me tell you, i felt DIFFERENT. i felt powerful. like i had just hacked the universe and came back with all the cheat codes. my energy was unmatched. and here’s the wildest part—everything i affirmed in the void started showing up in my real life.

my confidence? next level.

opportunities? popping up out of nowhere.

money? rolling in like the universe was throwing me a fucking parade.

and all i did was lay there, accept the void, and state what I wanted.

***

[revelboo]

Hi Revel! My family is in Disney World to watch our sparkling march down Main Street with his high school school's band. It's also our 20th anniversary. Could you please do a scenario where Starscream, Soundwave, and Megatron (and reader) take the sparkling to Disney? Thanks in advance!

That’s so awesome that he gets to play at Disney and happy anniversary! I hope you guys have so much fun! If you get a chance, Cosmic Rewind is amazing and the Nine Dragons in Epcot has awesome duck boa buns as an appetizer! (Disney is my jam)

Vacation

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Fingers tightening on the twins’s hands to keep them from trying to dart into the parade route, you force yourself to relax. Because you’ve got their actual hands and Uncle Shockwave swore he had all the bugs worked out. Shockwave’s improved avatars less uncanny valley at least as they superimpose over their actual bodies, so people aren’t actively avoiding your family. Including your three mass displaced mates. Head turning to find Megs with your daughter on his shoulders screaming demands for a Mickey balloon even though you know she’s going to immediately let go of it and scream even louder. Your oldest son clinging to Soundwave’s hand, eyes wide at the crowd, but calm as long as his sire has him. And it’s normal in a way that almost hurts because you didn’t think you could actually have this. Breath catching as one of the twins points and bounces on his peds, you smile.

• Noisy and crowded with humans, he has to keep his wings tucked close to keep a human from brushing against one and realizing there’s something there they can’t see. But you’re happy, crouching to point out costumed humans to the twins. And he can put up with a lot if it means you’re happy. Including Shockwave just following your little group around since you’d given up and started telling the younglings he’s their uncle. Because this has to be the most messed up trine in existence.

• Laughing as his daughter kicks her little peds against him, momentarily distracted from her demands by a brightly colored float. And she rests her chin on top of his helm, entranced by the parade. Reaching up, Megatron cups his hand against her side when she leans back slightly, spotting a human child in a frilly little princess costume. Knows it’s coming even before she points, crying that she’s a princess and she wants it. “Of course, little spark.”

• Venting hearing Megatron promising their daughter everything she wants without hesitation, Soundwave understands the impulse. They all thought they would be it, that their race would die out and fade away. Still can’t believe the next generation is real. And he bends, lifting his son into his arms so the youngling can see better. Rumbling soothingly when his son leans his head against his chassis, watching the parade.

• Smiling when Starscream crouches, tugging you into him and brushing a kiss against your temple, you feel loved. Watching him snagging the twins to make them squeal and straightening with them, you feel oddly light watching your little family. And Shockwave catches your eye, just staring like he always does and you offer him a hesitant smile before leaning into Starscream while he balances the twins on his shoulders so they can see better.

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #13

Danny Fenton never asked to be king. High King, actually. Supreme Sovereign Overlord of the Infinite Realms, Master of Time, Space, and Everything Between. Whatever. Clockwork said the job came with responsibilities, like cosmic balance and interdimensional peace and setting a good example for the lesser ghosts, but Danny’s idea of diplomacy was giving Skulker a wedgie and sending him flying into a hellmouth. Which, according to Clockwork, was “not sustainable inter-realm policy.” So now here he was, eighteen years old, king of all things weird and glowy, and being told he needed to “forge political relations” with Earth governments.

“Pick one realm,” Clockwork had said with his usual serene smugness, swirling his time staff like he was a magical baton twirler at the Ghost Macy’s Parade. ��Start with a sovereign nation. Establish diplomatic rapport. You are a king now. Act like it.”

Danny considered going to Canada, because he heard they had maple syrup and weren’t really into starting fights, but then Frostbite suggested Wakanda. “A hidden, technologically advanced kingdom,” Frostbite boomed with a fang-filled smile. “They are isolated yet powerful. A worthy first partner.”

And that’s how Danny Phantom, ghost king of the afterlife, showed up in Wakanda in his full royal regalia—ripped jeans, a NASA hoodie, and glowing white hair that he had half-heartedly tried to tame with ectoplasm gel. His crown—which he insisted was optional—hovered behind his head like a haunted hula hoop. The Wakandan guards were not impressed. One of them tried to spear him on sight.

“HI!” Danny shouted, floating three feet off the ground to avoid being stabbed. “I come in peace! And also kind of by accident! I may have ripped a hole in your sky barrier. Sorry!”

They dragged him to Shuri.

Princess Shuri was not having a good week. Some idiot on the Council of Elders tried to propose to her again, a hyena broke into her lab and stole a vibranium gauntlet, and now there was a glowing white boy hovering upside down in her throne room claiming to be the King of Ghosts.

“You,” she said, pointing a very sharp finger at him, “are either the most powerful being in the multiverse or the dumbest man I’ve ever met.”

Danny, still upside down, squinted at her. “I can be both. It’s called multitasking.”

Shuri blinked. Then laughed. Then immediately regretted laughing because Danny took it as a sign they were friends.

He followed her around like a lost ectoplasmic puppy for three days, asking questions like, “Do you believe in ghosts?” and “If your vibranium works on sound frequencies, does that mean you could weaponize my ghost wail and make, like, a portable banshee cannon?” and “Do you wanna ride my haunted dinosaur?”

Shuri didn’t know what to do with him. He was infuriating. He phased through walls. He reorganized her lab equipment by vibe. He called her nanobot swarm “glowy spiders.” He kept summoning ghost animals to show her like a toddler bringing frogs into the kitchen. At one point he tried to court her with a bouquet of screaming flowers from the Nightmare Zone. They bit her. She threw them in the incinerator. He pouted for an hour and sulked on the ceiling.

Somehow, this only made him more endearing.

Because sure, he was a pain in the ass, but he was also… genuine. And weirdly charming. He made her laugh when she wanted to scream. He made her guards nervous, which was hilarious. He helped her reboot a broken AI system by whispering ghost gibberish into its processor. It worked. Nobody knew why. Not even Danny.

And then there was the incident at the United Nations.

Danny, trying to prove he could be a good king and a solid diplomatic partner, insisted on attending a meeting with Shuri in New York. He wore a suit. The suit burst into flames five minutes in because he forgot he couldn’t suppress his ecto-core for more than an hour without leaking nuclear-level ghost juice. He tried to cover it up by summoning a clone to sit in his chair while he phased under the table to cool off in spectral form. Unfortunately, his clone started ranting about how France smelled like bread ghosts and threatened to annex Canada “in the name of spooky justice.”

Shuri had to drag him out of the UN by the collar of his glowing cape.

Back in Wakanda, after the global scandal of the “Ghost King’s Toasted Clone Uprising,” Danny was sulking on a floating chair, eating ice cream straight from the tub and accidentally freezing the spoon with his aura.

“I’m never doing politics again,” he declared, face half-smeared with mint chocolate chip.

“You are literally a king,” Shuri reminded him, arms crossed. “You have to do politics.”

“Then I abdicate. I leave the Ghost Realms to my dog, Cujo. He’ll make treaties with slobbery kisses and head pats.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” Shuri sighed, snatching his spoon and dipping it into the tub. “A glowing, interdimensional, mint-breathed drama queen.”

Danny perked up. “Did you just share my ice cream? Is this a bonding moment?”

“No.”

“It feels like a bonding moment.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m just saying, if I died again right now, I’d die happy.”

“You’re already dead.”

“Exactly. That’s how good this moment is.”

And then came the courtship.

Apparently, in ghost culture, any monarch who shares food with another royal is engaging in “pre-mating ceremonial bonding.” Danny found this out after the ice cream moment and immediately declared that he was now courting Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, Heir of the Panther, Queen of His Afterlife.

Shuri threw a shoe at him.

Danny dodged, declared it a “warrior’s blessing,” and carried the shoe around for two days as a sacred relic.

T’Challa returned from a diplomatic mission to find a literal ghost king holding his sister’s sandal in one hand and trying to explain to Okoye why his haunted llamas needed Wakandan citizenship. The Black Panther stared. Blinked. Then turned around and left without saying a word.

It only got worse when the ghosts started showing up.

You see, Danny forgot to mention that his realm was connected to every plane of existence, including all other universesand timelines. So, one by one, people started noticing strange, glowing portals opening in their showers, under their beds, and once—tragically—during a live interview with Tony Stark, who got slimed with ectoplasm and spent an hour screaming about “interdimensional snot monsters.”

Wanda Maximoff accidentally astral-projected into Danny’s throne room during a meditative nap and got stuck in a four-hour tea ceremony with Princess Dorathea the Dragon Ghost, who tried to set her up with Wulf, the yeti-looking ghost of justice. Doctor Strange kept getting prank-called by Technus, who hacked the Sanctum’s Wi-Fi and kept sending memes with captions like “Ur magical protections are mid. Sincerely, King Danny.”

Eventually, the Avengers invited Danny to a meeting.

He showed up fifteen minutes late, riding a skeleton horse, wearing sunglasses indoors, and drinking bubble tea through a glowing straw. Thor challenged him to a duel for “honor and clarity.” Danny beat him by turning intangible and pantsing him in front of everyone.

Shuri watched from the sidelines, sipping her own bubble tea, absolutely smitten and refusing to admit it.

“Just marry him already,” Okoye muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“I don’t even like him,” Shuri snapped. “He’s a reckless, chaotic disaster. He tried to eat vibranium popcorn and exploded.”

“You saved his ectoplasmic signature in your lab.”

“For scientific research!”

“You painted your gauntlet with his core color.”

“It’s a good aesthetic!”

“You wrote a five-page protocol for ‘dealing with ghost boyfriends.’”

“PREEMPTIVE PLANNING.”

Danny, overhearing all of this from the ceiling, grinned like a haunted gremlin. “So you do like me.”

“Get out of my lab,” Shuri said.

He floated closer. “Make me.”

She did. By launching him into orbit with a vibranium railgun.

He came back the next day with a moon rock and a bouquet of cosmic roses made of stardust and regret. She didn’t smile. Not really. Just a little.

And thus began the weirdest, most politically unstable, gloriously cursed romance in the history of both the Ghost Zone and the multiverse. International relations were a mess, ghost cats roamed Wakandan streets, Thor and Cujo became best friends, and Danny made a habit of whispering “I’m Shuri’s spooky consort” at every formal event while phasing through walls.

Nobody knew if it was true love or mutually assured chaos.

But one thing was certain: Ghost diplomacy would never be the same.

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Said something about this in tags elsewhere but now I'm making a full post about this, one of my favorite elements of the wheel of time is how it starts with the most basic of conflicts, a war between the fundamental cosmic forces of creation and destruction, good and evil, light and dark, and then complicates that by presenting the reader with an endless parade of people who believe they serve the light genuinely, and do horrific amounts of harm and cruelty (and some of those horrific acts are committed by the heroes themselves), and people who are sworn to the shadow for an endless variety of reasons, both selfish and some unbelievably selfless, and several of the most important of those are characters who provide aid to the heroes in incredibly impactful ways.

[pneumaticshift]

i have been plagued by thoughts of star sapphire hal and by god it kills me and would absolutely kill bruce to see him in the outfit carol wears in most runs she's in

Ooooh, this is a fun request. Thank you for the wonderful mental image.

———

For a very long moment, Bruce just stared. 

There were a great many things he had prepared himself to encounter tonight. A high-speed chase across Gothams rooftops. Explosions in the streets he’d somehow end up getting blamed for. A concussion he’d insist wasn’t a concussion while Alfred stared at him like he was the biggest disappointment to ever wear body armor. All scenarios that were perfectly reasonable for a man like him to expect. 

This, however, was new. 

Bruce prided himself on his ability to remain unshaken in the face of the bizarre. He had shared into the abyss, stood beside gods and monsters alike, and had endured all the spectacular shit the universe had thrown at him. He’d even suffered through Green Arrow’s attempts at philosophy while stranded on a mission together, and that alone had to count for something.

Now he was standing in the Watchtower, taking in the full reality of what was standing before him, and he knew with absolute certainty that his life had gone completely and irrevocably off the rails. Really, he should have seen it coming the moment he decided to devote his nights to dressing as a bat.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed that Hal Jordan was attractive. He was one of the most infuriating men Bruce had ever worked with, but he was also objectively good-looking. When a man flounced around in a skintight suit with an ass like that, even Bruce was bound to notice. It was a completely manageable distraction in his day-to-day experiences with the League. One of those minor observations you’d acknowledge, catalogue and then brush aside. The sky was blue, grass was green, Hal had a great ass. 

But now he was making a very solid effort at testing the limits of Bruce’s restraint, and it had everything to do with how Hal was currently standing there in a Star Sapphire uniform.

Or, to be specific, a Green Lantern construct of the uniform. And, because apparently this was a test from the Gods to specifically screw Bruce over, the ring had chosen accuracy over modesty.

Bruce knew this because the boots were there. Knee-high, heeled, and glossy in that very specific way that suggested Hal’s ring had spent far too much time on the details. 

The rest of the outfit clung to him indecently. Obscenely. The intricate filigree was vacuum-packed to his tanned skin, high-cut at the hips, plunging at the chest, with goddamn gloves that went up and past his elbows. It should have been impossible for anything to be both skintight and flowing, but the ring sure did make a good go of it.

The tiara really brought the whole thing together nicely. Or insanely. Bruce hadn’t decided yet. 

For the longest moment, Hal didn’t even notice Bruce was there. 

He was too busy flailing his hand around to notice. The ring was glowing in fits and starts as he tried, and ultimately failed, to dismiss the uniform. The man was practically bordering on desperate as his own willpower betrayed him. 

Bruce, for his part, wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

He could enjoy the show, he supposed. Hal was stumbling gracefully in those ridiculous heels, cursing under his breath and trying to lock his knees in place for balance. He had been to alien planets, fought cosmic horrors, survived all the shit of the universe, but apparently walking in heels was where he met his match. 

Alternatively, Bruce could walk away and pretend he wasn’t going to think about the image for a very long time. Because unfortunately, he was.

He had appreciated Hal’s ass in the usual Lantern uniform many times before. (After all, he wasn’t blind.) But the Star Sapphire costume didn’t just highlight his assets, it was parading them. Utterly salacious, utterly unfair. Definitely a matter that warranted further rumination later.

Unfortunately, Bruce didn’t have time to decide which course of action to take, because right as he was mentally filing away this entire moment for later analysis, Hal’s entire scantily clad body froze.

Bruce saw the exact moment his instincts kicked in. His back snapped ramrod straight. The energy of his flailing vanished, replaced by something almost eerily still, and slowly, so painfully slowly, he turned his head.

He looked confused at first, like some part of him knew something was wrong but hadn't fully processed what yet. His brow furrowed, his mouth parted slightly, and for a brief, glorious second, Bruce could see the gears in his head struggling to turn. Then his gaze met Bruce’s. And his brain caught up.

Bruce had never seen a man visibly lose the will to live so fast.

Hal’s face went through three separate stages of emotional devastation. Shock, realisation, and existential despair. His pupils dilated. His breath hitched. His entire body seemed to shrink into itself like he was experiencing ego death in real time.

“It’s not what it looks like!” he spluttered.

Bruce tilted his head ever so slightly, letting the silence stretch. He could see Hal floundering, the sheer panic in his eyes as his mouth opened and closed, his brain scrambling for some kind of explanation that didn’t immediately collapse under scrutiny.

“Oh?” Bruce finally said. Partly to be a dick. Partly because he was truly at a loss for words. 

Hal’s hands flew up in immediate defense, then just as quickly shot back down when he remembered he was barely wearing anything. “No—shut up!” he snapped. “I swear to God, this is not what it looks like—”

“It looks like you’re wearing the Star Sapphire uniform.”

Interestingly, Hal made a noise that could’ve been a whine if it wasn’t also fifty percent death rattle. “I— No, wait—” He looked down at himself and cringed. “I can explain!”

“I’d love to hear it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’d love to laugh at me. There’s a difference.”

Bruce couldn’t deny it. He’d also love to do a few more things too, but that probably wasn’t entirely helpful. He let his gaze drag deliberately from the top of Hal’s ridiculous head down to the heeled boots and back up again. He tilted his head, taking in the very specific details of the construct. It really was a very well made piece. 

“God, you’re an absolute—” Hal cut himself off to drag a hand over his face. “God. Okay. Look.”

“I’m looking.”

“Not like that, you asshole. I got hit with some weird energy surge and it scrambled my ring's templates. I was thinking ‘armor’, this is what came out!" Hal gestured to himself in exasperation, the movement making the construct shimmer. Good Lord. There was a sheen. "I am working on fixing it!"

Bruce hummed again, completely unhelpful, entirely entertained.

“It’s not like I chose this, alright? This is just some kind of ring feedback. It’s not, like—"

“Subconscious?" Bruce supplied.

Hal scowled at him “No.”

“So your ring just happened to manifest this design, with those proportions, entirely by chance?”

“Yes,” Hal hissed. “Obviously.”

He crossed his arms, which did nothing to make the situation better for him. Or Bruce. It called attention to the way the construct moved with him, emphasising every flex and shift of his muscles. At this point, Bruce was fighting the deeply unprofessional urge to drag him closer and haul him over his shoulder like a caveman

He didn’t. Because he was a professional.

But goddamn.

Hal shifted. The boots squeaked when he did. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“I don’t know. I think it has potential.”

“I’m gonna fix this, you’re going to be very discreet about what you definitely didn’t see here today, and we’re both going to just go ahead and pretend this never happened. Got it?”

“Hm. Shame.”

“Don’t test me, Spooky, I am so close to committing a crime.”

Bruce tilted his head slightly. “In that outfit?”

Hal lunged for the throat.

Unfortunately for him, the boots were still heels and Hal was still incapable of walking on them. The moment he put too much weight forward, his ankles twisted, his balance wobbled, and for one wonderful Bruce watched him go down. 

He really didn’t have any intentions of catching him because he always took great pleasure in the Green Lantern eating shit, but that outfit must have triggered some kind of neolithic instinct in him, because before he could think better of it, Bruce’s hands shot out and caught him by the waist.

Hal crashed into him gracelessly, all flailing limbs and deep personal shame. He scrambled for purchase and ended up gripping the font of Bruce’s suit, and for a second, Bruce was treated to the utterly incredible experience of Hal Jordan, fully wrapped up in his own humiliation, realising that he was now draped across Batman. 

It was beautiful. 

Bruce could feel the exact moment Hal’s soul left his body. His entire frame went rigid, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a dying wheeze, and his hands twitched against Bruce’s chest like he wanted to push himself away but had lost all motor function. Bruce, meanwhile, was noting things.

Specific things. Like how Hal’s waist was bare thanks to the cut-outs, and how it fit suspiciously well in his grip. Or how his bare thighs, lovely, tanned and toned, had pretty much tangled themselves up in Bruce’s cape. Or the way Hal’s entire expression had gone somewhere beyond horror, like he was experiencing a deeply spiritual crisis.

Hal froze.

Bruce froze. 

The tiara glinted in the light.

Bruce wasn’t sure if it was because Hal had ascended to a higher plane of mortification or because his own brain had completely short-circuited, but neither of them moved. He could feel the tension locked up in his muscle, could see the deer-in-the headlights look Hal had, and, worst of all, could feel some primitive part of his own brain straight up celebrating these turn of events. 

The part of his brain that still thought in terms like mine.

The part of his brain that had already acknowledged Hal’s body against his.

The part that was now, alarmingly, imagining many, many, many things.

Bruce forcibly shut that particularly thought process down.

But then Hal exhaled. Not just any exhale. A shaky, uncertain, what-have-I-done-to-deserve-this kind of exhale. The kind accompanied by one of those thousand-yard stare typically reserved for people who had just walked in on their own funerals.

There was barely time to dissect that before Hal was speaking.

“... So, uh. You come here often?”

Bruce decided to drop him.

[dclovesdanny]

Accidental Kidnapping x Cosmic Love

Okay, in Danny’s defense, he had been the one kidnapped first when he was summoned. He was especially angry since the Pride festival was just about to start.

(He had made peace with most of Amity Park, including Valerie and his parents. After he did that, things were relatively calmer, and after a few brave citizens started talking to him, everyone started asking him questions.)

(When late May rolled around, Danny got approached by some Pride members to discuss it, and he was all for it. They even made him his own float!)

So maybe Danny had been a bit more aggressive when fighting the cultists than normal. Maybe he was aggressive enough that he broke several different cult member’s arms.

And maybe he wasn’t paying attention to who was standing on his circle when he made the soul slut guy send him back.

The good news was he landed on his feet in the float a few seconds before the parade started. The bad news was the fact he wasn’t alone on the float.

Now, all he could do was hope these two didn’t cause a problem during the Pride festival.

[thedensworld]

Your Best Man | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, established relationship

Summary: Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.

Author note: let's have a break from angsty suffering story and have some fluffywonu!

Wonwoo loves you. He loves you with all of his heart. Honestly, he loves you with all of his life. In conclusion he loves you very much. Wonwoo sat there, an empty soju glass in hand, his words flowing like the river of affection he held for you. Mingyu, realizing his friend had reached the brink of tipsiness, halted the soju parade, albeit reluctantly, knowing Wonwoo was just getting started.

"Mingyu, remember when I fell head over heels for her at first sight?" Wonwoo's tone was earnest, albeit slightly slurred, as he delved into his favorite topic, you.

Mingyu nodded, taking a break from his spicy budae jiggae to indulge Wonwoo's sentimental journey.

"She was stunning," Wonwoo continued, his gaze drifting upwards as if searching for you among the stars. "I mean, she's always been gorgeous, but back then? Wow. Even Cupid would've been jealous of my aim that day."

He chuckled, the warmth of nostalgia enveloping him as he recalled the moment fate intervened, intertwining your destinies.

"In hindsight, it's like the universe had a checklist and decided, 'Yep, these two are meant to be.' And who am I to argue with the universe, right?"

Wonwoo's laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy you brought him, even in the haze of alcohol and spicy food.

So there they sat, one lost in love and the other in a spicy stew, united in their admiration for the wonder that was you. And as Wonwoo raised his glass in a tipsy salute to your magnificence, Mingyu couldn't help but toast silently to the cosmic comedy that brought you all together. Cheers to love, laughter, and the occasional soju-fueled confession.

Years ago, Wonwoo became acquainted with you through a movie he watched with Vernon. You were a rising rookie actor at the time. Fate, however, had a more direct introduction in store for him. It happened one evening by the Han River, where Wonwoo sought solace in the night air and a bowl of ramyeon, alone with his thoughts.

The tranquility was shattered by the intrusive click of a camera shutter, followed by a beam of flashlight. Initially annoyed by the presence of paparazzi, Wonwoo's irritation quickly turned to anger as he contemplated the invasion of privacy suffered by countless others in the industry.

His resolve to confront the paparazzi was cut short by a sudden thud and a groan. Rushing to the source of the commotion, Wonwoo discovered the paparazzi lying on the ground while another figure stood nearby, inspecting the camera.

"I know this is your job, but this is not right," Other person admonished, voice firm with conviction. "You've invaded someone's privacy and caused them untold discomfort. Can you even sleep at night knowing what you do?"

As the other person, you, retrieved the memory card, your eyes met Wonwoo's. In that moment of shared understanding, Wonwoo offered a thumbs-up in appreciation of your intervention, sparking a conversation between the two of you.

You explained that you recognized the paparazzi, having caught them fabricating rumors within the industry. Wonwoo nodded in solidarity, acknowledging his own frustration with such unethical practices.

"I was about to take action myself," Wonwoo admitted, shaking his head. "I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."

And so, amidst the backdrop of the Han River, a bond formed between two strangers united by their disdain for injustice and their shared desire to protect the integrity of others. It was a chance encounter that would leave a lasting impression on both Wonwoo and you, shaping the course of their future interactions.

A conversation led to another, as late-night discussions evolved into playful banter and eventually escalated into vulnerable talks. What began as strangers connecting gradually blossomed into friendship, and then something more profound – love. Wonwoo cherished every step of the journey with you, never once regretting the decision to let you into his life. With you by his side, life seemed brighter, the shadows dissipating whenever you were together, and he couldn't shake the feeling that you were the one sent by a higher power to fill the void within him.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Wonwoo's question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and hope. When you said yes, he made a silent vow to himself to be the best man you'd ever known. He listened to your concerns, ensured you never felt pressured, and held you in the highest regard, becoming your staunchest supporter whenever your movies or dramas premiered.

Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Like any couple, Wonwoo and you faced their fair share of ups and downs. But each challenge served as a lesson, strengthening their bond and shaping them into better individuals for each other. If Wonwoo were to recount their biggest argument, it would likely be the time he recommended you to a director he knew.

Wonwoo happened to know a veteran noir movie director, a figure you admired deeply for his work. During a discussion between Wonwoo and the director at a premiere event, your name came up, sparking a conversation that would ultimately change the course of events.

"Your girlfriend is Ji Y/n, right? Her acting was exceptional in the last movie," the director remarked, his interest piqued.

"She's a huge fan of yours," Wonwoo replied. "I know it might be unconventional, but I was hoping you could consider casting her in your next project. It would mean a lot to her."

To Wonwoo's surprise, the director revealed that he was indeed seeking an actress for his upcoming movie and would be delighted if you were interested in joining the cast.

Initially, the news seemed like a dream come true. However, Wonwoo's excitement turned to concern when he received a series of missed calls from you while he was away on a business trip. Upon calling you back, he was met with the sound of your sobbing, instantly stirring worry within him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I never asked for your help with my career," you replied, your tone heavy with frustration.

Wonwoo's brow furrowed as you mentioned the director's name, realizing he had unwittingly stepped into a sensitive issue.

"I never asked you to secure a role for me in his movie, so why does everyone think I got it through a connection?" you inquired him, your voice trembling with emotion.

Wonwoo sighed, acknowledging his mistake. "I was talking to him that night, and he mentioned you—"

"He talked behind my back saying you begged him to put me into the cast."

"I never asked for that!" you continued, your frustration evident.

"I know," Wonwoo conceded, regret weighing heavy on his shoulders. "He didn't say what you think he did."

Feeling hurt and misunderstood, you ended the call abruptly, leaving Wonwoo with a sinking feeling in his chest. Acting swiftly, he instructed his manager to drive him to your place, determined to resolve the misunderstanding before it escalated further.

Wonwoo entered your apartment well past midnight, his fatigue from a long day's schedule overshadowed by the weight of guilt gnawing at him. Upon seeing you seated on the couch, head bowed in distress, he felt a pang of remorse pierce through him.

"What did he say to you?" Wonwoo inquired gently, his voice laden with concern as he approached you.

"It doesn't matter what he said," you replied, your tone laced with frustration. "What matters is that you overstepped by asking him to cast me in his movie! I want to build my career on my own terms, and I want people to recognize that."

Wonwoo knelt in front of you, seeking to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his remorse evident. "I just thought—since you admire his work—it would be a good opportunity. I didn't anticipate this outcome."

A heavy silence hung between you before you confessed the truth. "I walked away from the role midway through filming. I couldn't bear to work with someone who talk trash their talent like that."

Wonwoo nodded understandingly, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I understand," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled thoughts. "You did what felt right for you."

As you feared, rumors began to circulate in the weeks following the announcement of your departure from the movie. Speculations about your connections within the industry surfaced, casting a shadow over your hard-earned reputation. Yet through it all, Wonwoo stood by your side, offering unwavering support and reassurance.

He knew the truth, and that was enough for him. Together, you weathered the storm of gossip, emerging stronger and more united than ever before. For Wonwoo, there was no greater reward than seeing you stand firm in your convictions, unyielding in the face of adversity. And as long as you had each other, no amount of speculation could tarnish the bond you shared.

Years later, you and Wonwoo went public with your marriage, and he was grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback you both received. The wedding was an intimate affair, attended only by close family and colleagues. For Wonwoo, it marked the culmination of his journey to become the best man you'd ever known, now leveled up to become the best husband himself.

He found joy in the simple moments of life, relishing in the comfort of sleeping and waking up beside you each day. To the surprise of his fellow members, who often referred to him as the prince by his fans, Wonwoo had embraced domesticity wholeheartedly. Learning to cook, clean, give massages, and take on any task that arose became second nature to him, especially during your pregnancy with your firstborn, Jeon Jihan.

Now, at five years old, Jihan possessed a strong will of his own, often refusing to hold hands with Wonwoo when being taken to daycare. Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder whose attitude Jihan had inherited—though deep down, he knew it was undoubtedly from you. Nevertheless, it didn't dampen Wonwoo's love for you and his son. He cherished every moment spent with his family, grateful for the love and happiness they brought into his life.

One day, while Wonwoo was away on tour and Jihan was just two years old, he heard from his fellow members that the women—referred to as "their girls"—had gathered at Seungcheol's wife's place. Concerned for your well-being, Wonwoo immediately called you to check in.

"Are you joining them?" he asked, his worry palpable over the phone line.

"Will you bring Jihan?" he added, mindful of your responsibilities as a parent.

"Of course, he can't take care of himself," came your sarcastic reply.

Wonwoo chuckled at your dry humor. "But didn't you say our car broke down yesterday?"

"I'll find a solution, don't worry about it, darling!" you reassured him.

However, after the concert, Wonwoo discovered from Seungcheol himself that you had ridden his bike to their place—with Jihan in tow. Not a word of this had come from you. Frustration and disbelief churned in Wonwoo's chest as he made a call to you.

"How could you ride a bike with our child being that young?" he demanded, his tone edged with concern.

"Jihan loves it!" you countered, sending a photo taken by another woman at a traffic light, showing Jihan smiling while securely attached to your front.

Wonwoo facepalmed with his hand, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You could have endangered both of you and Jihan. You're not allowed to ride my bike again!"

It wasn't that Wonwoo doubted your skill—you had been riding bikes for years, a shared passion that had drawn you both together. However, the idea of riding a bike with your child had never crossed his mind, nor did he ever imagine you would consider it. The incident led to his members labeling him as a "gangster husband," a nickname stemming from your unconventional lifestyle and characters in the movies.

"So what's the matter now, hyung? You said you're okay, you love her, you'll support her no matter what. Then what's with the change of heart?" Mingyu confronted drunken Wonwoo.

Wonwoo clumsily put down his glass, "You're not married, Mingyu. You won't understand my pain!" he declared, slurring his words as Mingyu rolled his eyes in amusement.

Without missing a beat, Mingyu dialed your number. "Hello, Y/n! Did you miss your husband already? He's being a pain in my ass tonight. Should I take him home?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened in panic as he realized what Mingyu was up to, but his drunken attempts to grab Mingyu's phone proved futile.

"Just the usual babbling about his undying love for you and some other nonsense. I'll be there in 20, okay? Bye!" Mingyu announced cheerfully before hanging up.

"No! I don't wanna go home! I don't wanna face her like this," Wonwoo protested dramatically, his words slurred as he tried to resist Mingyu's attempts to escort him home.

Mingyu sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "This hyung..." he muttered, resigning himself to the task of dragging a stubborn and intoxicated Wonwoo back to the safety of your arms.

*

"Where's Jihan?" Wonwoo groaned, nursing his pounding head while seated at the dining table, his breakfast being served by you. The mere act of opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task.

You shrugged casually, "Someone woke him up last night, and he ended up staying up late. He's still asleep."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed, knowing full well that the culprit was none other than himself. Yet, he was surprised by your nonchalant reaction to Jihan's extended slumber. "He's not going to daycare today?"

You shook your head, taking a seat across from him. "I'm free today, except for my ballet class at 4. Your mom wants to see Jihan, so I'll be taking him to your parents' place before then."

The mention of your ballet class jogged Wonwoo's memory of his conversation with Mingyu the night before. "You're still taking ballet classes?"

You set down your utensils and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Yes," you confirmed firmly. "And Mingyu filled me in on your little chat last night."

Wonwoo grumbled, "I'll punch him later," before offering a weak smile in your direction.

"I've decided to take the role no matter what, darling. It'll be my first-ever romcom movie," you declared, determination shining in your eyes.

Wonwoo sighed deeply, his headache worsening at the thought. "That's the problem, babe. I'm just not ready for that!" he confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of panic.

"What are you not ready for?" you queried, raising an eyebrow as Wonwoo stretched his hands and gestured vaguely.

"All the lovey-dovey stuff you'll have to do in the movie! Kissing, hugging, and acting all smiley with other men—I'm just not prepared for that!" Wonwoo exclaimed, his expression a mix of concern and discomfort.

You scoffed, "I thought we were done talking about this. I asked for your opinion, remember? If you don't want me to take the role, I won't. But you said your opinion doesn't matter as long as I'm happy, and I'm more than happy to challenge myself with this role."

Wonwoo nodded solemnly. "I know, but that was before I found out about the intimate scenes like kissing and hugging!"

You nodded understandingly. "You're right. And besides, you're the only man who can kiss and hug me like that."

Wonwoo sighed, relenting slightly. "Just kiss me three more times every day, and I'll pretend like nothing happened," he bargained, a hint of resignation in his voice. After all, he is your best man, right?

[y0urfav0r1te-girl]

Hello I'm Lexi !!!

Some music I like includes : Lana del Rey, Marina and the diamonds, Sky Ferreira , Halsey , Taylor Swift, the pretty reckless, Ethel Cain, Florence+ the machine, kerli, Nicole dollanganger, Lorde, Melanie Martinez, arctic monkeys, hole , no doubt ,mazzy star, Nirvana, mars Argo, Lady Gaga, Madonna , ke$ha , Gwen Stefani, Katy Perry, Sabrina Carpenter, chappell roan, Charli XCX, carly rae jepsen, Nicki Minaj ,Britney Spears, the Veronicas, Ariana grande, Hannah Montana, Hilary Duff, Rhianna ,she and him , Fleetwood Mac,Fiona apple, Avril Lavigne, Paramore, new years day , evanescence, my chemical romance,green day, silverstein , millionaires,all time low, the medic droid, bring me the horizon, taking back Sunday, get scared, asking Alexandria, picture me broken, the academy is , snow whites poison bite, brokencyde,dot dot curve, bring me the horizon,the killers , panic at the disco, black veil brides , fall out boy,mayday parade , Pierce the veil, breathe Carolina (and A LOT MORE !!!)

Some media I enjoy is : American horror story, scream queens, skins UK, gossip girl , new girl , pretty little liars, girl interrupted, black swan , NANA, sailor moon, the Virgin suicides, twilight , Jennifer's body, monster high ,bBratz, (I collect both).(I like a lot of 2000s / early 2010s media especially girly media.)

Some aesthetics I like/ have been include: 2014 Tumblr girl, twee, Tumblr grunge, girl blogger core, vintage aesthetics, coquette, pastel, hipster, emo / scene, skater, and a LOT MORE!!!

Alt account that I don't use : @light-me-up-lexi

@hauntedrose555 my number one girl ilhsm

Cute people/girlsquad members /favs : @cemetarybabyyy @4ngelicbunny @viharmons @l0v3r-g1rl-0nl1n3 @jo-the-cosmic-being @mortuarydolls @minna456 @sc3n3-b1tch @sourhibiscuss @evansg1rl @luvleyangeldust @s33th1ngg @rebsprettygirl @rh1nest0neluvvsu @miss-sweet-dreams @noideamyguy @dearlizzies @z0mb1eeg1rll @merrydoe @mentallylivingin2000s @rottingsleepydoll @logic4l @doelette777 @smarty1949 @heartzforyouxoxo @thesimplecuntlife @zero-days-left-to-live @vvermillion666 @smiggles4000 @kartdeko @idontliketopoeticize @m1ss1n9-b1u3s @emobarbi3xoxo @artemis-melody @virgincurse

@xyzaurax my Blair 🤍

This blog is a safe space except if ur a creep no DNI I block people who dislike me tho!!!

I would describe myself as : just a girl who is overall pretty normal but occasionally sad and posts about it I'm overall very kind I just face heartbreak a lot I LOVE MY GIRL MUTUALS !!! and keep in mind I do post about disliking men / having a resentment towards them because they have not treated me the best in life however that never includes my male mutuals you guys are sweet

Signing off bang bang kiss kiss !!!

[toorurii]

Where the sun shines in the shallows, and the shadows lurk within the depths- Two new Paraferno Parade designs are now up for sale! 🐰 🦎 

COSMIC CONFESSION ( @starosis ) - $120 USD [CLAIMED]

ROCOCO REPTILIAN ( @toorurii ) - $190 USD [CLAIMED]

Comment / DM on here or Toyhouse to claim!

TOYHOUSE BULLETIN

Please read the TOS before making a claim!

The Paraferno Parade is an adoptable project that features angel and demon designs! Please check it out here if you’re interested and knowing more abt em!

Thank you for joining the parade!