#IT'S THE FINAL PIECE WHOO

[bacchuschucklefuck]

no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~

[sunset-peril]

The Castle was filled with some kind of uneasy energy. Pryze didn’t know why, but the Wolfbred had felt it in every bone since the sunrise. The Blood Moon last night had been an unwelcome surprise, for sure, but his deeper soul believed that something more than a celestial event had offset Hyrule’s center. Part of the Princess’ guard he may be, he stood his assigned post just outside the observation room. No shaking of his head or reorienting of his ears could distract him: something was amiss in the castle.

Another member of the Princess’ guard, a Hylian man about his age, was sent to what sounded like unrest in Castle Town, which further sold Pryze that something wasn’t quite right. They weren’t by the Princess’ side as often as Captain Link, for a variety of reasons making varying levels of sense, but he couldn’t help but contemplate why they’d be assigned somewhere other than the Princess’ general vicinity with this amount of uneasiness.

Maybe it was just his innate Wolfbred anxiety. After all, Captain Link was obviously unconcerned enough, as he had not called off the training he’d been scheduled to do with the First Gatehouse guards. Pryze had nothing better to do than to let his mind run wild while he stood at his post, so he let his mind do so throughout the morning, until he was relieved around the lunch hour. On his way to the dining hall, one of the handmaidens for the Princess approached him. Rapidly enough that his instinct was to brace for battle. 

“Sir Pryze! You’re not alongside the Princess this morning?”

He recognized this Sheikah, but not enough to know her name. Their shared history usually meant he avoided the white-haired Hylians when possible, to ease himself if nothing else. “No, handmaiden, I received an entry guard post today.”

“Master Link seems to also be absent from his place.”

“He has been training knights at the First Gatehouse. Will probably be doing so until all those guards are worn ragged.”

“What interesting timing! Especially with such uneasy news that the Castle has received. Have you received the news yet, Sir Pryze?”

He turned his head to further face her, tipping his snout downwards. Despite his wariness and need for stoicism, he did not wish to depict himself coldly. “I’m afraid not. What is such news?”

“Princess Zelda was discovered to be pregnant just last night.”

The air fell from his lungs. “What?” He felt sweat forming on his brow and hairline; his heart hammered in his chest.

“Oh, I know, what a shock! I don’t believe the King knows who the father is, otherwise I’m sure an arrest would have been made already. Something other than this dreaded uneasiness.”

“I, uh-” His eyelids fluttered closed. “I should… alert my captain. This is something he will wish to know.” 

He shouldn’t be walking so quickly through the Castle halls. He looked suspicious, or at least someone bearing urgent news. But he couldn’t slow. Heck, this was the best he could do to keep from running. Something had happened, and he knew immediately what it was. Stupid Pryze, stupid. She smelled off the last time the whole Princess’ Guard was together. Stupid, stupid, the Captain was a Wolfbred with four unbonded seasons, of course!

He arrived at the gatehouse just as his captain finished yet another sparring match. Either he had arrived in the middle of a lecture, or Link was sparring just to spar. Either was likely at this hour. “Captain Link! I must speak with you urgently!”

His captain turned immediately, sheathing his sword with a nod.

As soon as the pair were aside and far enough away from other ears, their eyes met and Pryze’s words came rushing out. Link’s ears drooped as those words flowed out, and he twisted his scarred face to avert his gaze from his subordinate’s.” 

“Captain Link, what have you done?”

[fallenprophets]

Home.

Jinx x reader

Summary: set between Act 1 and 2 of Arcane season 2. You find a moment of calm at home with Jinx, Isha, and a stray dog you've found along the way.

Warnings: spoilers for Arcane season 1, tooth-rotting fluff (I hope) not proofread

No use of Y/N, no pronouns used for reader, no gender specific terms etc...

A/N: WHOO first piece of writing by Lev on this blog yippee!! I sincerely hope you all enjoy this lolsies. Please interact! I'm taking requests teehee

You don’t remember the last time you felt this at peace. 

It is like a buzzing, filling your chest, lifting you practically off your feet as you make my way home. 

This feeling is manufactured- it is not coming from the outside. It comes from deep inside your chest, thrumming happily, snuggled between your lungs, right below your heart. There are reasons for this warmth, this light- well, one reason. Her name is Jinx. 

When you say you’re going home, all you really think of is her. Yes, her lair is home- it is warm, and cozy, and as safe as a hot air balloon suspended above what seems to be an infinite void can be- but without her, it would be nothing. 

She is the light that fills your chest, with her bright smile and ridiculously long blue hair and perfect pink eyes. She is the weight on your lungs, making it hard to breathe when you think of her. She’s all the cheesy, corny shit the romance authors you hated so as a child wrote. Only instead of being a character, only words on a worn out page, she’s real, and she’s only a two minute walk away from where you are now. 

You have a satchel slung over your shoulder, the Dog (you don’t know when it became your dog; it just appeared by your side one day, and hasn’t left since) trotting along beside you. Its fur is matted. You reach down and scratch between its ears as you near the Last Drop, smiling to yourself. Never had you thought you would be living this life- on your way home, supplies for Jinx in your bag, the Dog padding alongside you- it is so domestic, so soft, so clean (despite the grime of the Fissures, the thickness of the air, the moaning of the people crowding the sides of the streets). This life is so unlike anything you remember your parents having. 

You take the quick route into Jinx’s lair, the dog following happily, its pink tongue lolling. You should name it, you think as you step onto one of the propellers. 

After Silco had died, you had expected the place to fall into disrepair; you had thought the lights would stop twinkling, and the tinny music would stop playing, and the workstations would gather dust until finally the propellers snapped and fell, taking Jinx with them. And yes, that had started to happen. But then, Jinx had met the kid. Isha, you had called her. All of you, huddled around an old, matted baby names book one of you had found at a scrapyard, pointing out names to each other. Isha, the kid had pointed at, a huge, toothy grin splitting her round face. One who protects. You had closed the book then, knowing that it was perfect. Jinx had smiled at you over the newly baptized Isha’s head, and you had smiled right back, squeezing her hand in yours. You had tossed the book down, into the void below. 

Now, your home was transformed. Jinx’s creepy dolls were gone, replaced with different colourful toys and gadgets picked out or made by Isha. The walls were covered in crayon drawings of all kinds of things- dragons, flowers, the three of you in fields of green and blue and pink and orange. There was a tent set up in the corner, full of Isha’s belongings. It was where you all slept, huddled together like a litter of cats. You love the place. 

At first, you think they’re both out. You call out, and when no answer comes, you venture further in, dropping your bag by Jinx’s workbench. The Dog sniffs around, its tail wagging as it comes closer and closer to an odd lump covered in blankets. You grin to yourself, putting a hand on your hip, tapping your chin with the knuckles of the other. “Hmm,” you muse to yourself, purposefully ignoring the giggle coming from the blankets, “wowie, I wonder where Isha and Jinx could possibly be.” You go in the opposite direction, checking under the workbench, scratching your head. The Dog watches, its eyes saying Can’t you see them? They’re right here! You wink at it, and it sits, tilting its head. “They must have gone out,” you declare loudly as the giggles intensify. “Guess I have this whole place to myself! Finally, I am rid of those stinky-“ 

As you are talking, you approach the mess of blankets. Before you are able to finish that last sentence, a small orange and blue bundle barrels into your legs, almost knocking you flat on your back. Isha launches herself into your arms, grinning her toothy grin as you spin her around. 

“Oh my goodness!” You cry, “where were you hiding? You really are a master sleuth!” Jinx, still have tangled in the blankets, barks a laugh. You hug Isha to your chest and raise an eyebrow at her, mouthing you couldn’t hide anywhere better? She flips you off, but she is smiling. 

She stands and joins you and Isha, her hand finding the small of your back, the other going to Isha’s shoulder. 

“I have a surprise,” you whisper to the child, “but don’t tell Jinx, mmkay?” 

Jinx tilts her head, still smiling. Isha nods solemnly. 

“I found waffles,” you breathe, looking at Jinx out of the corner of your eye. Isha gasps and puts her hands over her mouth. Through trial and error, you and Jinx had discovered that the little one seemed to live for waffles. You now went out of your way, as the only one with your face not plastered all over the place, to find the sweet treat. 

“Gee, I wonder what the surprise could be,” Jinx says, playing along. She follows as you carry Isha to your bag. You set the kid down, the Dog nuzzling into her hand. You rifle around for a moment, and finally pull out the waffles. Jinx lets out a loud gasp, and Isha turns to her, delighted, pleased with herself that she was able to keep this secret. 

“Waffles?” Jinx cries. Isha claps her hands together, startling the Dog. 

You all sit together in the tent, sharing the waffles off the same plate. Isha (who thinks she’s being slick) keeps sneaking pieces of her food to the Dog, who delightedly licks it off her hand. She giggles every time, earning an affectionate look from you and Jinx. 

Once you have finished the waffles, you push the plate away and lie down. Soon, Isha curls into a ball in the space between your knees and your stomach, settling her head on your legs. Jinx dims the lights, then joins you; the two of you become a protective cocoon around the now snoring Isha. The Dog squishes itself in between you and Isha, resting its head on the kid’s side and looking up at you adoringly. You brush a strand of hair from Jinx’s face and smile. She smiles right back. She’s been smiling so much recently. 

“This is perfect,” you whisper to her once you’re sure Isha is fast asleep. 

She smiles, but doesn’t answer. One of her hands rests on your waist, and her fingers trace soothing patterns there. 

“I thought,” she begins, then stops, frowning. Her other fingers tighten around your hand. “I thought that, with Silco gone, there was nothing left for me.” Her words hurt you; it stings somewhere deep in your stomach to hear that she is in any kind of pain. 

“But then… I met the kid,” she continues. “And then I found you.” 

You feel an overwhelming wave of affection for the girl lying in front of you then. A girl you had once known what feels like a very long time ago; a girl who had once had blue eyes and the same wide, toothy smile as Isha. A girl who had been part of your distant past, who was now back in your life. She was right; despite having known each other your whole lives, you have really only just found each other. 

“And- and I realised that maybe, maybe Silco wasn’t all I needed. Maybe…” she trails off, but she has said enough. You shuffle forwards (careful not to disturb Isha or the dog) so that your forehead is only centimetres from hers. She meets you halfway, pressing her forehead to yours; your noses brush, and you smile, reaching up to cup her face. 

“I love you, Blue,” you whisper. A name, who she has always been to you. Blue. Blue like the sky, like the sea. Blue like the warm, the fluttering bird nestled in your chest. 

For a moment, you think she is going to cry. But she only pulls you closer, and whispers the same words back to you, your name uttered like a prayer. 

You close your eyes and smile, and her breathing slows. 

As you fall asleep, you think: 

You have never felt this at peace before. 

[tbgkaru]

I'm struggling with reach on my art.

This makes me quite pathetic, but I've been feeling quite underappreciated in regards to my art (low notes, whoo.), even when i'm trying to network and keep up with multiple social medias and fandoms. Feel like I have so much to give but no one who listens. So if you guys care by retweeting, it'd mean the whole world to me. I've recently got into Hades! I have SFW(1,2) and NSFW art (1,2)

I stream it as well with my Vtube that changes artstyle based on the game I play! :D (default is modernized Czech traditional folk costume)

I do physical merch! Currently working on danmei scrapbook zine that holds 300+ pages of art and place to store your stickers

but I also do other art zines and fandom merch, like these!

I am part of many fandoms, like one piece

warframe (with official work done for the game as well)

overwatch, apex-

final fantasy 14-

various muses-

but mostly, currently, danmei (1,2,3), where I do art, character re-designs, COMICS, lot of comics, but even am trying my hand at writing.

I have tons of art and it's hard to gauge what could catch someone's interest, so if any of this DID catch your interest, please consider supporting me on patreon (general: 1, danmei: 2) or by retweeting this post (or any of the attached links)♥ Lot of creative stuff feels kind of hopeless right now, big saturation ;v;

[illbegottenfaith]

BAD REVIEWS (a Bad Reviews by Sabrina Carpenter inspired fic)

you've heard more than your fair share of bad reviews about theo nott. that doesn't stop you from becoming the newest addition (theo nott x reader) [best viewed in dark mode]

a/n - i did NOT realise this fic was turning out this long which I think speaks to how much fun I was having writing it, planning it out carefully and setting the slow burn justtt right ahh I truly think this is one of my best pieces of writing ever? at least I rlly like it hahah so enjoy :))

tropes/warnings - tw toxic r/ship descriptions, lovebombing, unhealthy possessiveness, angst

word count - 6k! whoo!

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

Little Miss Formerly Delusional ★★★★☆ He’s charming. Too charming. He will reel you in just so he can ruin your life. I gave him my time, my life, my youth, and where do I end up? Crying in his shower - NEVER. AGAIN. He's so good at making you feel special. Scratch that - he's so good at getting what he wants.

It started at a picnic.

The kind that got cobbled together last minute with leftover snacks and a secondhand deck of cards, bodies strewn across the grass in lazy clusters, all chatter and sunshine and no plans beyond the hour.

You hadn’t planned to stay long. You almost left twice. But then someone pulled out a pack of cards, and everyone had gotten paired up for a game - you with Theo Nott, of all people - so you stayed.

You were seated opposite each other, cross-legged on some thin picnic blanket, knees knocking every so often every time one of you leaned over the card deck between you. Some slap-happy mess of a game that had rules no one followed properly but left everyone’s hands red and stinging from all the shouting and reflexes gone wrong.

Theodore Nott - teasing, long-limbed, annoyingly pretty - watched you with his sleeves rolled at the elbow, tie loosened. His eyes locked on yours with a lazy kind of intent. You'd seen him around plenty, and heard about him even more, but this was the first time you'd actually talked to him. Up close, he was worse. His vacant grin too self-assured with a rich, arrogant voice that promised all sorts of unscrupulous things.

Theo flirted, of course, in the way boys like him always did - bold, rehearsed, shameless. Fixing you with unabashed, unrelenting eye contact. Leaning over to you closer than what was strictly necessary. Playing the role of injured loverboy for every round he lost.

You rolled your eyes through most of it.

You'd heard the stories. Everyone knew the way he moved from girl to girl, leaving miserable shells in his wake like it was nothing. That boy didn’t even have a heart to break.

Three rounds in, he spoke up when you won. Again.

“You’ve got quick hands.”

You shrugged, sweeping up the cards.

“You’ve got a slow reaction time.”

His grin widened. “So modest.”

You finally deigned to return his gaze, your face as impassive as ever. “I don’t usually play nice.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I like girls who make me work for it.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. Was that supposed to flatter you? Impress you?

"Do you?" you mumbled instead, dealing the cards out once again. When Theo didn't move to pick up his, still intent on watching you, you gave him a look and sighed.

“Look. You don’t even know me.”

“I’m trying.”

You looked bored.

“And why is that?”

“Because you look like you’ve already decided I'm not worth your time.” He rested his chin on his hand, unbothered. “Now I need to know if you’re right.”

You hesitated. That was...unexpected.

But you recovered almost immediately.

“Well,” you said, eyes flicking to the deck, speaking quickly, “I'll have to warn you. I’m not the kind of girl who gets affected easily.”

“‘Affected,’” he echoed, amused. “That's adorable.”

It wasn’t what you actually wanted to say. What you meant was: I’ve heard what you do to girls. I’ve seen the aftermath. And I’m not anywhere near stupid enough to be next.

But you didn’t say any of that. You just kept her expression level and glanced at the cards, seeing what Theo had missed. You slapped your hands on his.

“4 - 2,” you said, with a thinly veiled smugness.

Theo looked at your hands, then up at you, and smiled slow.

“You like this, don't you?"

“I like winning.”

He didn’t let you win the next round. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

Later, when everybody was cooling off with some iced butterbeer, peeling grass off their sleeves, Theo glanced your way with a look that gave you a bad feeling in your gut.

He raked a hand through his hair with a careful air of nonchalance that was fooling no one, and said offhandedly, "You know, I let her win one of the early rounds, by the way.”

For a moment, you gaped at him and his slimy audacity. Then you sat up, affronted, nearly upsetting your butterbeer. “You what?”

He gave you a lazy blink. On another day, you might have considered him somewhat endearing. Today, he was getting on your last nerves.

“Thought it might soften you up.”

“You did not let me win," you said hotly, a strand of hair stuck to your uncomfortably sticky cheek. "You just couldn’t keep up.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t good. Just not as good as me.”

Oh, you could punch him. “The score was six to three - ”

“Yeah, and that third one? That was a gift.”

You turned to the others, scandalised. “He’s l - liar. Liar. He’s lying, I sw-.”

Theo just sipped his drink effortlessly. “I thought you didn’t get affected easily?”

That shut you up immediately. You turned away, face hot with something dangerously close to flustered. You'd walked into that one. Hard.

They'd only formally met a couple of hours ago and he somehow managed to already get under your skin. Just a little.

And he knew it.

When he leaned in a little closer to murmur something to someone beside him, you swore he was still smirking.

You weren't supposed to be caught off guard. Not by him. You knew boys like Theo Nott. Knew their tricks and charms and the revolving door of names on their lips.

Unfortunately, knowing didn’t make you any less curious.

Little Miss Territorial by Proxy ★★★☆☆ He’ll be possessive. And you'll like it. It feels flattering at first. I mean, why wouldn't it? Who doesn't luvvv being loved? It's always nice to feel wanted.

That's not what this is, though. Theodore Nott, erm, 'wants' in the way a hunter 'wants' a deer head stuffed and mounted on the wall.

The courtyard had that lazy kind of energy that lingered on warm afternoons - bodies stretched out, butterbeer bottles dusty and half-empty, faint music straining through the thick, heavy afternoon air from someone’s wireless. It was easy. Drowsy. Like no one wanted to be anywhere else.

Theo was already there when you arrived.

You noticed him from across the throng, lounging in one of the stone archways, a little separate from everyone else. He met your gaze. You looked away. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

Eventually, someone pulled out a deck of cards again. Out of the few of you who could tolerate the smacking and getting smacked on such a hot day, you partnered up with a Ravenclaw named Liam - broad-shouldered, painfully chatty, cursed with the unfortunate affliction of not being as funny as he thought he was.

When you beat him - again - he let out an exaggerated groan and slumped back dramatically.

“Alright, alright. Clearly I’m no match,” he said., as he poorly reshuffled the cards. Over the deck, he shot you a smarmy look that left you feeling icky all over. “Maybe you could teach me sometime.”

The line was lame. And obvious. You picked up the cards he dealt, not bothering to look up.

“Sorry. I don’t usually train the hopeless.”

Liam winced. “That’s cold.”

You shrugged. “It's true.”

Laughter buzzed through the few who were listlessly paying attention. Theo didn’t laugh. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Only stared.

His eyes had sharpened the moment Liam started talking. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the heat of it - the weight of his stare digging between her ribs.

You shifted slightly. You took a sip of your butterbeer to cool off and calm down. The saccharine drink had begun to sour in the relentless heat.

Liam nudged your foot with his own - light, playful. Theo straightened and sat up.

“Careful, mate,” he said, voice steady and too smooth. “You’re one bad joke away from a nosebleed.”

A few chuckles sputtered. Nervous ones. It didn’t sound like a joke. No one knew whether to laugh or move on.

Liam blinked, uncomfortable now.

“Relax, yeah? Just playing.”

Theo tipping his bottle at him languidly. “Just warning.”

Before it could stretch into something uglier, he abruptly shifted focus.

“I’m in,” he said suddenly, "the mood to play now.”

There was a shuffle as the group moved up a little to make room for Theo where they were all scattered across the floor.

You didn’t hesitate. You switched your partner to Theo before anyone else could move. Your knees bumped. His smirk twitched higher.

The game began. Slaps. Feints. Barely restrained grins. She won the first round. He won the next. By the third, she was half a beat faster. Or maybe he was just a beat slower.

He let her win. Or maybe she let him.

When he looked at you afterwards, head tilted, lashes low, he gave you a look of some quiet approval. Like you’d passed a test you hadn't even known you were taking.

You looked away first. Unexpectedly, you felt a flicker of pride. From there sparked an obsession with this most cursed type of validation, one that you had never known to be greedy for.

You took another sip of you drink, relishing the way your face warmed in the heat of the day under the intensity of his stare. Still, you should have known what you knew now - those days in the sun would only last so long. Not even a week later, the fights began.

Little Miss Made Excuses For His Anger Issues ★★☆☆☆ He plays dirty, so it's only fair you do too. When the fights begin - god, they'll never stop. He'll never listen to you, you'll go blue in the face trying to get him to change, he'll whine about you never getting off his back, you'll snap at him for breathing too loud, it's nuts.

Okay, fine, the last one wasn't exactly provoked. He was just in too good of a mood that day and it was pissing me off. But honestly? I was so valid for that. He needed to learn to shut the fuck up once in a while.

It wasn’t even about the cigarettes.

At least, not just about them.

You were poring over your books in the deserted Slytherin common room, trying not to think about Ivy had been telling you about a girl Theo had been getting pretty close to - some Romilda Vane. He lit one the second he walked in - like it was a reflex, like he was doing it on purpose. You could feel the now-familiar irritation bloom in your chest the moment the smoke hit the air, bitter and acrid and reeking of bad memories.

“Really?” you muttered, not bothering to look up from your notes. “In here?”

Theo exhaled slowly, deliberately.

“I'll open a window.”

“That’s not the point.”

He leaned against the window frame, posture relaxed, jaw tight.

“Then what is?”

You huffed irritatedly and slammed your book shut.

“The point is, you said you’d stop. Five days ago. In the hallway. After that disaster of a duel. Or did you forget that too?”

He had the audacity to sigh like you were being difficult for even bringing that up.

“For fuck's sake, Y/N, it’s one cigarette.”

“It’s your third.”

Now he looked at you properly, something dry and tired in his gaze.

“You're keeping count now? Are you keeping tabs on me?”

Maybe I should, the angry thought flashed in your mind. Who the hell was Romilda Vane anyway? You gritted your teeth. “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t go through them like water.”

“It’s not a crime,” he muttered, but he stubbed it out anyway - carelessly, more like a challenge than a concession. “There. Better?”

“Sure. Until the next one.”

He laughed humorlessly.

“Sorry, Mother.”

That did it.

You stood suddenly, the legs of your chair scraping piercingly across the floor.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Turn me into some controlling shrew just because I care about your health - ”

"Oh, so now I'm supposed to thank you for breathing down my neck all the time?"

You seethed. “Is that supposed to be funny? Because it isn't. It's not. It's really not.”

“I’m not the one making a scene over a cigarette.”

“Forget the bloody cigarettes. That's not the point.”

“No,” he said, standing now, tone flat. “I think I get the point just fine. You’ve had a shit week, and I’m the easiest thing to pick on.”

The corners of your mouth tightened.

“You think I like picking fights?”

“Sure seems like it.”

You could hardly hear or think coherently over the sound of blood roaring in your ears. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re relentless,” he shot back. “It’s always something with you. First it’s me leaving my notes in the common room, then it’s how I ‘don’t take things seriously,’ and now it’s - ”

“Oh, I’m sorry - am I not supposed to care when you act like nothing is worth your attention?”

He scoffed and looked away, as if dismissing you, as if you weren't worth any more of his Wednesday night. You gathered up your books with more aggression than was strictly necessary, feeling embarrassingly close to tears with how crazy Theo drove you.

"I don't know why I bother with a degenerate like you. You always do this. I bring something up, and you turn it against me, or you twist it into me being dramatic, or overbearing - ”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Well, if the shoe fits...” he muttered.

“God, fuck you.”

He never seemed more unattractive you than he did in that moment - caustically insensitive, sarcastic and selfish. You spun on your heel, grabbing your bag off the floor before storming out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

Theo didn’t follow. He just stood there for a beat, unmoving in the silence of the night. Then he leaned against the windowsill and lit another cigarette.

Little Miss "He Knows I Can Take It" ★☆☆☆☆ He'll Make You Feel Special Enough To Tune Everyone Else Out The man's arrogant enough to act like he's God's gift on Earth and he's shameless enough to act like the yelling and the screaming and the shit he gives you is a blessing. But after a while, if you're not careful, you'll go right on believing him. Twisting his abuse into some fucked up declaration of love because man does he sell the pipe dream of being his favourite punching bag well.

And the thing is - you're not his favourite. You never will be. That won't stop you from making an arse out of yourself trying anyway. The things I did? Ugh, embarrassinggg. Skipping parties, for what? Giving him all my time, for what? Cutting out the friends he didn't like, for what? A guy who needed a training broom till he was ten?? Be soooo fucking for real right now.

You didn't notice the glance Ivy and Melissa exchanged when you walked into your dorm. Your bag slid off your shoulder with a dull thump onto the floor, your shoulders aching.

“Hey.” Melissa said from her spot near the desk. “You missed lunch.”

You distractedly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “I was revising,” you muttered, toeing off your shoes. “Didn’t realise the time.”

Ivy wrinkled her nose from where she was sprawled on her bed. “Merlin, you’re one of those. Don’t go all Ravenclaw on us now.”

You gave a faint smile. You hadn't realised how little you had seen of your friends over the past week. You missed them. “Too late.”

There was a pause. Melissa twirled a strand of hair between her fingers. You stilled, recognising that nervous tic of hers.

“Were you with him?” she asked casually. “Theo?”

You hesitated. So what if you were? “Yeah. So?”

“Right,” Ivy said, not unkindly. “He wouldn't have anything to do with you disappearing every other day now, would he?”

You were at a loss of words.

“...I’ve just been busy.”

They didn’t say anything.

You glanced up, feeling the air shift into something more worried, anxious.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” you muttered.

“We’re just talking,” Melissa said gently.

You shot her a look. You weren't dumb. Ivy sat up a little straighter. You could feel the both of them closing in on you.

“Look,” she said carefully, “I know you don’t want to talk about him. But Melissa and I think we should. You’ve changed. And it's...not good.”

“I’m fine,” you said tightly.

“You say that a lot lately,” Melissa said sadly. You scoffed. “It’s getting harder to believe.”

You exhaled sharply, massaging your temples.

“Can we not do this now?”

“You never let us do this,” Ivy said, brows drawing together.

Your stomach twisted.

“Because it’s none of your business,” you snapped. Your friends looked taken aback.

“I just - ” Ivy blinked. “We're not trying to - ”

“I know what you meant,” you cut in, voice rising. “You don’t like him. You think he’s bad for me. You think I’m stupid for being with him.”

“No one said that,” Melissa said slowly, frowning. “No one's saying that. We’ve just never seen you like this. We're not the enemy, Y/N.”

It sure felt like it. Melissa reached out, and in that moment of blind rage, you couldn't tell if it was to hug you or hurt you. You flinched out of her reach. You didn't miss the brief flicker of hurt that passed over her face. Even Ivy looked mystified.

“Y/N," Ivy said, getting up now. "Enough of this. We’re worried about you. He’s getting to your head, and you're so wrapped up in him that you can't even see it.”

You crossed your arms.

“I'm not a child, for Merlin's sake. I know he’s complicated. I’m not blind.”

“Then why are you defending him like he’s perfect?”

“Because you’re making it sound like he’s evil,” you snapped. “Like I’m too dumb to realise I’m being treated badly.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but no words came. Just heat. Frustration. Guilt twisting into something bitter.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Ivy said quietly. “Not over anyone.”

Looking at your friends, their hostile postures and mutinous faces, you felt terribly alone. “Well,” you said, “maybe I’ve changed.”

Melissa stared at you, looking angrier than you had ever seen her. “Yeah. You have.”

You sighed.

“I don’t need a lecture right now.”

“And we’re not trying to give you one,” Ivy said. “But you’re making it really hard to not say something when you’re hurting yourself like this.”

“I’m not - ” you started, but stopped short.

Because you were hurting. You knew it. You’d known it for a while now. But hearing it sfrom someone else's lips made it feel like an accusation.

“We’re just trying to help you,” Ivy said, quieter now.

“I don’t need help," you said, chest tight. "I need you to back off.”

A listless kind of quiet descended in the room. Melissa’s jaw tensed. Ivy uselessly smoothed down her sheets.

“Well,” Ivy said, voice flat now, “I guess that's we’ll do then.”

Melissa wasn't as forgiving. “Whatever. It's your life to ruin, L/N.”

She drew her hair up into a ponytail. "Dinner, Ivy?"

The silence they left behind was deafening. You refused to dwell on the fight. You refused to acknowledge how damning their condemnations felt.

And still - when the dust settled, like a woman possessed, your thoughts drifted back to Theo. To that lopsided grin. That lazy smirk. Pulling you in, and in, and in, and in.

Little Miss Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me ★★★★★ He always knows when he's about to lose you And that's when he's the sweetest. He'd have to be - it's his last ditch attempt to distract you. He'll have you wondering how you could ever think of him as selfish or mean-spirited or anything other than the world's most-loving, most-devoted boyfriend. Boyfriend? HA!

It started the way most things with Theo did - loud, dramatic, and entirely unnecessary.

You stepped out of the Transfiguration exam room, clutching your wand, still mentally arguing with yourself over you shaky answer to question seven, when someone near the doors let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.

“What the hell - ?”

Students were crowding toward the entrance of the castle, whispering, staring. You followed the noise, shielding her eyes from the sudden sunlight. And then you saw it.

A car. A bright red, shiny Muggle convertible, parked just off the stone steps, looking entirely out of place in front of Hogwart's gothic architecture. And leaning against it like he'd walked straight off the poster of some pretentiously obscure, too-slick indie film was Theodore Nott - sunglasses perched cockily in his curls, sleeves rougishly pushed up, charm turned on.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered under your breath, walking faster now, heat creeping up the back of her neck.

He caught sight of you and grinned. Not a smirk, not his usual self-satisfied half-smile. A grin.

Like he hadn't been a complete dick to you just two nights ago.

“What's all this?” you asked as you stepped up to him.

Theo straightened with a practiced laziness. “It’s a getaway car.”

You blinked at him.

“Weekend trip,” he clarified. “We need a break. You need a break.”

“I have two exams left.”

He shrugged. “Two is practically nothing.”

“Theo.”

Before you could continue your protests, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles in full view of half of your year, completely unbothered.

“Your stuff’s in the boot. Packed it this morning.”

Your mouth dropped open. How did he manage to get into the girls' dormitories?

“You what—?”

“There’s snacks,” he continued, unrepentant. “I even charmed the glove compartment to keep your disgusting fizzy drinks cold." Traces of the Theo you knew started resurfacing. He sounded pretty damn proud of himself. "You’re welcome.”

“You’re mental.”

“And you’re exhausted.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Come on, Y/N. You can revise in bed with me and a view of the sea. There’s a fireplace. I booked the biggest suite they had.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your palm. Your face burned.

"Please? For me?"

You should’ve walked away. You meant to walk away.

But he had that look again - the one he used to reel you in after every fight. The one you couldn't bear to tell off. That soft-eyed, unwittingly innocent look like he wasn't even capable of doing anything wrong, let alone on purpose. Behind him, the sunlight hit the car just right, glinting off the chrome like some surreal, too-good-to-be-true movie scene.

It was stupid. And ridiculous. And maybe that was the point.

So you went.

On the drive down, Theo's hand casually resting on your thigh, wind whipping through your hair, you told yourself you weren't impressed.

But then you saw the room - two floors, a balcony, a charmed bath bigger than her dorm - and you maybe slightly let it go to your head.

He ordered room service like you were royalty, feeding you chocolate-covered strawberries by the tray, worshipfully kissing the tips of your fingers like he’d never once raised his voice or made you feel small.

He lit candles. Bought you a new jumper at one of the quaint, homey shops by the pier when you'd offhandedly mentioned feeling a little chilly. Got up to make you tea in the mornings and made it right - not the way he liked it, but the way you always complained about no one ever remembering it.

He let you pick the station on the wireless. Spoilt you relentlessly. Had the nerve to call you pretty in the midst of you lounging in the utter bliss of what was turning into the most indulgent heaven.

Maybe it was the wine. Or the way the fire flickered inches from you where you laid tangled up on the rug, breathing slow and even and in sync, like the world where you were constantly at each other's throats never existed.

Or maybe it was just the way he was looking at you again. Like you mattered. Like you were special. Like he was choosing to be good. Like he was choosing to be good for you.

You caught yourself smiling at nothing. You let him pull you into his lap. Let him press kisses down your neck, murmuring all the right things.

On the last night, your head was resting on his chest, his fingers tracing slow, thoughtless circles into your back. You should've been long asleep, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how different he felt like this. Like this version of him had always existed, but you were only just now being allowed to see it.

“I don’t get you,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Theo glanced down at you.

“What’s there to get?”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down on what little you could see of his face not obscured by the dark or his soft curls. You tilted your head, considering.

“You’re just…different, sometimes.”

His hand paused.

Then he shifted, rolling you both over gently, lips brushing against your jaw, collarbone, shoulder.

“Maybe you just make me better,” he murmured.

You almost laughed.

Because it was such a good line. But that's exactly what it was - a line.

You drew Theo closer to you almost anxiously. He obliged, hands wandering to your hips. Distantly, you wondered if you carved open his heart, would you find anything remotely genuine inside?

It was late. You were tired. It made your head hurt to think of such depressing things.

So your eyes fluttered shut, and you let yourself succumb to Theo's ministrations. Let yourself believe it.

For one more night.

Little Miss Egg on My Face ★★☆☆☆ It Never Lasts It's almost a slap in the face, really - he could do it all for you, and more. He just doesn't want to. He doesn't care enough to even be halfway decent, especially once the glow wears off. So a week later, he goes back to his old ways, drinking and philandering, and you - well, you stayed, didn't you? Now who's the idiot?

For a few days, it almost felt like things truly had changed.

Theo had stayed soft, sweet, attentive. He sat with you during meals without you asking. Laced your fingers together under the table in study hall. Let you sleep in his bed, no questions asked, when you showed up exhausted after a double-length Potions exam. He even gave you his last chocolate frog during a study break and shrugged, saying you needed it more than he did.

And you started to believe it. That maybe the trip really had saved their relationship from ruin. Maybe this time, he meant every kiss, every touch.

But, like all good things, it didn’t last.

By midweek, you started noticing it again, despite your best efforts.

The way he brushed you off in the corridors with a distracted nod, not even slowing his pace. The way he left your group hangouts without saying goodbye. The way he started treating you like an accessory he wanted only sometimes.

It was subtle. Like he was slipping out of a persona.

One night, you watched him lean towards another girl a few tables over, heavily wrapped up in whatever riveting conversation they were sharing, all low laughs and half-lidded glances, his mouth tugged up at one side. The same smirk he’d used on you—only now it felt recycled. Contaminated. Revolting.

He didn’t even glance your way as you left the Hall.

You waited until you were alone. You found him near the back stairwell, the one they used to use to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower. He was lighting a cigarette. Of course. Something about this was beginning to feel destructively futile.

Your voice was quiet at first.

“Hey.”

Theo glanced over, eyes unreadable in the gloom of the night. “Hey.”

You hesitated.

“Can we talk?”

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, then shrugged. “Sure. Talk.”

There was a beat of silence. Then she said, softly, almost apologetically, “You’ve been different. Since we got back.”

Theo looked away.

“Have I?”

You could feel him beginning to shut you out. You panicked. “I’m not trying to start anything," you said, hurriedly. "I just…noticed.”

“You always do,” he muttered, flicking ash onto the stone floor.

You frowned. “I’m not accusing you.”

“Not yet, you're not.”

Something about the way he said it - flat, unaffected - made you feel ridiculous. A laughingstock. Overly emotional. Wholly irrational.

Still, you pushed on. “You were great this weekend, Theo. Really. Till now, I didn’t want to say anything because I liked that. I liked you. And now - ” You swallowed. “Now I don't."

He raised a brow.

“Because I sat at a different table?”

“It’s not just that.”

“Then what is it?”

You worried your bottom lip.

“You’re pulling away again.”

Theo laughed condescendingly.

“Well, forgive me if I don’t feel like being your emotional support boyfriend every minute of every day.”

You stared at him.

“Is that what you think I want?”

“Sure seems like it.”

You stepped back, your frustration mounting.

“God, you’re unbelievable. I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re acting like I’m some clingy, nagging -”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Your mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

“I’m serious that this, is getting old,” he said, not even bothering to look at her now. “The whining. The melodrama.”

You hated the way your voice was beginning to shake.

“You always do this, Theo. Every time we get close, you run the other way. You pretend none of it ever happened.”

He turned to you now, finally meeting your eyes with that cold, dead gaze of his.

"We had a nice weekend. We had one nice weekend. Newsflash, princess - it's not that deep."

Your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat.

He didn’t stop there. “You act like I’m supposed to worship you like some lovesick puppy all day every day. Don't you get exhausted by how much you want all the time? Do you really need to be wanted that badly?”

There was a long pause.

Then you exhaled, sharp and cold.

“Fuck you.”

He didn’t blink. “That’s more like it.”

All this while he'd been trying to buy your infatuation. Meanwhile, you couldn't pay him to offer you a shred of respect.

You shoved past him, your nails digging crescent moons into her palms as you walked far, far away from him. The echo of your footsteps hit the walls too loud, too fast, like you couldn’t get away from him quickly enough.

He didn’t follow. Not that you expected him to. But the worst part was that it hurt exactly the way she knew it would that afternoon you first laid eyes on him. Because he didn't care - not really. Not enough for it to actually mean anything.

Still, some sick part of your heart pulsed with the worry that you'd go back. That you weren't strong enough to truly stay away from him. That you'd go crawling back to him on some cold, miserable night.

When your hands stopped shaking. When your voice stopped cracking. When you convinced yourself again that maybe he half-meant it that one time. That maybe he could change. That maybe he already had.

But for now, all that you could do was walk, and walk, and walk, until the halls swallowed you whole. Until he was little more than smoke curling in the wind.

The only thing heavier than your silence was the weight of still wanting him.

It’s always worse at night.

When the castle halls are quiet. When your bed’s too big. When there’s no fight left in you to battle the waves of want.

It was late—so late that even the stars seemed like a distant memory, hanging somewhere far beyond reach. It was a stupid hour, one where you should have been asleep, or at least pretending to be. But you weren't. You never could sleep the same without him anymore. Not when he’d been the one to fill the void inside you, even if it was with something corrosive. You hated it. And yet, there was no escaping it.

You missed him. How could you not? Despite everything, despite his flaws, his temper, his habits you loathed, you missed him. Even when he was the last person you wanted to think about, your mind wandered back to the way his lips felt against your neck, the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren't looking.

That stupid half-smile. The ominous smell of smoke clinging to his collar. The way his voice softened when he said your name like it was something precious meant only for him.

It was exhausting. This back and forth. The way he could make you feel like the most important thing in the world one minute, and a burden the next. Every time you thought you had him figured out, he flipped it. Changed the rules. Changed the game.

And still - still, you chose to love him.

You were too tired to care about what was “right” anymore. You'd been walking around in this fog of longing and resentment, trying to convince yourself that you deserved more, that you needed more. You needed to be more.

But you weren't. Not without him.

You'd told yourself you wouldn’t do this again. Had said it out loud, even. Had whispered it like a promise into your pillow the night you walked away. But the resolve didn't hold under the weight of your chest caving in from the loneliness.

You tried everything - busy days. Cold showers. Long walks. None of it worked. You couldn't help slipping.

And tonight, you're slipping fast.

Your bare feet carry you down the corridor before you can think. You don't react to the chill of the floor. Your head is vacant of any plans, any rational thought - just the sharp pulse of want, of need, of him.

You hesitate outside his dorm. But it's too little, too late. The time to turn back was months ago, when he was little more than a stranger on a picnic blanket you had enough sense to not get involved with.

The door creaks open.

He’s awake. He doesn’t say anything. You don't leave. He doesn’t ask you to.

He lifts the covers. Makes room for you without question.

You climb in.

His arms wrap around you like muscle memory. Like forgiveness he didn’t earn.

And you let him.

Because the thing about loving someone like Theodore Nott is, it’s never a fair fight. It's an affliction of the worst kind. It's a habit you can't quite quit. It’s knowing better. And choosing him anyway.

You closes your eyes and shift closer, pretending you don't know how this ends.

Little Miss Disillusioned ★★★☆☆ Would Not Recommend But Merlin...I always come back.

[author-kweenyluv]

... Ghosts pt. 1 ...

pt. 1 || pt.2 || pt.3

[It’s difficult to grieve someone when the reminders of them haunt every corner of your life. It’s even harder to grieve them when they decide to come back from the grave] [...otherwise known as ‘I decided to reread the Dead Nightcrawler Comic (Amazing X-Men 2014, #1-5), and imagined what might happen if I/a reader-insert was also in the story after reading that the Bamfs showed up almost immediately after the school was rebuilt post Messiah Complex/Kurt dying’, and then made myself sad. Buckle in everyone, this is a long one] [First multi-parter, whoo!]

The Bamfs moved into the rebuilt and newly minted ‘Jean Grey School for Higher Learning’ as soon as construction was finished, not too long after Kurt.... after he.....

The Bamfs showed up without much preamble, and despite the mystery around them and their appearance, no one at the institute had the heart to try and make them leave. They looked... they looked so much like him, like what you thought....

You nearly screamed the first time you saw one roaming around the school, falling back against a wall and calling for the nearest... anyone, as you curled onto the ground. Chest heaving and mutterings of ‘I’m going crazy I’m going crazy I’m going crazy I’m going crazy-‘ falling from your lips on repeat as you sat on one end of the room, the confused Bamf sitting on the other and blinking owlishly. It was Hank who found you, and it took him nearly ten minutes to convince you that no, you hadn’t gone crazy, and yes, the Bamf was real.

To both your chagrin and despair, the Bamfs seemed to have a particular affinity for you— the little creatures seemed to have a knack for finding you, even when you didn’t want to be found. No matter where you were on the grounds, the Bamfs would find you. And after a while... after a few weeks you gave up trying to hide among your friends to stay away from the small reminders of your dead lover. Of the little glimpses of what you could have had with him if he hadn’t been taken from you so soon.

. . .

It was the end of the school day, classes had ended a few hours prior and now you were curled up on the floor of your room— knees pulled tight to your chest, ears filled with static, your crutches dropped haphazardly onto the floor just out of reach and shoes kicked off —with your hands clutching one of Kurt’s old uniforms to your chest and crying into it. While this wasn’t your best moment, it certainly wasn’t your worst either. No, that had been when you’d first learned about Kurt’s death.

Your worst had been when you nearly destroyed the safehouse you were staying at with the children you were meant to be watching over, and then later when you had lost it at the funeral. That... that had been far from your best moment, it had taken Logan to force you to calm down enough to be present, and even then you hadn’t been able to muster the strength to speak, getting too choked up just seeing the coffin. So here you were now, months after Kurt’s death, clutching one of the last pieces of him you had left while sobbing on your bedroom floor.

One of the Bamfs found you like that not too long after, when you had just about run out of tears for the day and were left with your head in your knees and Kurt’s uniform nearly tearing in your grip. The little thing made its way over slowly, chittering and mumbling quietly as it crawled closer to announce its presence. It didn’t... It didn’t do much, when it finally made its way over to your side, sitting quietly by you without a peep.

As you slowly uncurled you registered the small form beside you, still clutching Kurt’s uniform tight as your hands fell to your lap and you glanced down at the Bamf. The little creature looked up at you with big, sunset yellow eyes, tail curled loosely around itself and sitting sweetly by your hip.

“Bamf?” The word was said quietly, a gentleness in it’s voice that wasn’t usually present in it and its brethrens’ boisterous calls. The little Bamf placed a gentle, three-fingered palm against your leg, a soft, inquiring look on it’s face. It was so... it looked so similar....

The familiar look of concern that you’ve seen so many times, although on decidedly larger features, is what breaks you. You reach out a hand to the tiny lookalike as more tears well in your eyes.

“...I miss him.” Your voice breaks as you get the words out, the Bamf grabbing hold of your hand and climbing gingerly onto your lap to settle itself on Kurt’s uniform. You curl around the little creature and hold it close as you fall apart once more, clutching the Bamf like a lifeline. More Bamfs show up after that, the first apparently having sent some kind of message to the others now curling around your sides and on your shoulders, seemingly trying their best to hold you together with their tiny, achingly familiar hands. Your voice breaks when you choke your words out next. “I miss him so much....”

After the funeral you’d forced yourself not to dwell on the broken space inside your chest where Kurt was meant to be. You forced yourself to swallow down the grief and the emptiness that had threatened to consume you, refusing to allow yourself to lose control like that again. You plastered on brave faces and small smiles and false hopes. Lied and promised and swore that that you wouldn’t succumb to the aching sorrow gnawing at your mind. You knew Hank and Logan and Ororo could see it, could see the tension in your shoulders and the insincerity in your eyes. You knew that your family knew you were lying, but you couldn’t- you couldn’t let yourself feel it. You couldn’t let yourself break under the weight of Kurt’s death when deep down you knew part of you wouldn’t come back from it.

Now though, surrounded by tiny reminders of the man you’d lost, the fraying edge of your will to swallow back the emotion slipping through your fingers at the ginger touch of dozens of tiny, familiar blue hands, you supposed... you supposed that now was as good a time as any to let yourself grieve. If at least for just single a moment in the in the poor imitation of your lover’s embrace.

. . .

Months later, when the staff were informed that something had happened in the basement with the Bamfs and the school suddenly went into lockdown, you gently guided the student’s you could to safe rooms and stood guard like the other teachers who stayed behind. The little Bamf, the one that sought you out all that time ago and who you’d taken to calling Blueberry, had become your second shadow. The little one showed up on your shoulder now in a puff of sulfur, tail curling around your shoulders and eyes boring into yours.

“Bamf.” Blueberry sounded... stern. Determined and almost... final, in its seriousness. Its little hands reached out to guide your face, tilting it down until it could press its forehead to yours, wide eyes closing. You closed your eyes as well, a shaky sigh slipping from your lips as your fingers tangle with the little creature’s swaying tail and it speaks again. “Bamf.”

“Something’s happening, isn’t it?” You say softly, pulling back after a moment to look at the Bamf. “...go. Your brothers need you, don’t they? The team says you all have pulled some stint in the basement, that’s what all the commotion is about, right?” Blueberry nods and guides the fingers wrapped around its tail up so it can hold your hand in its small ones. You give the hands a small squeeze, and keep your voice soft. “Go, I’m sure whatever’s happening, the X-Men will need your help more than me little one.”

A weary smile pulls at your lips and you lean your head against the Bamf’s once more. “...I’ll be okay Blueberry, I promise.” The little Bamf gives you a last glance, before pressing itself harder against you for a single moment, and then disappearing in a flash of light and a puff of smoke the next.

pt. 1 || pt.2 || pt.3

[sleepytoycollection]

One Way to Repair a Broken Doll Arm

Today I'll be walking you through how I repaired this Ever After High Lizzie Hearts doll's broken arm. While I wouldn't call this a fool-proof method, and I'm not sure that this repair would hold up to being played with, if you've got a beloved doll you want to repair, this should be just fine for a doll that's mostly going to be displayed.

The best part is, this will retain the articulation of the arm and/or knee (this method will technically also work for knee joints, though knees are harder than arms to work with). So let's jump in.

Tools required: Craft Knife, Jewelry pliers, Wire (gauge depends on size of joint), Super Glue, Hot Glue, Patience.

Let's start with our patient.

I thrifted this Lizzie doll a few days ago, along with a Venus McFlytrap, as shown in the above image. As soon as I saw the taped up arm, I knew the joint was broken, but hey, she was like 80c USD. I can apply some elbow grease for that cheap. Plus it gives me an excuse to finally make this tutorial.

They went a little overkill with that much tape, but whatever works?

I cut the tape off carefully with a craft knife. I didn't take a pic of that, but I think you can image what a broken doll arm looks like. Unless you have aphantasia I guess, but that's getting off topic.

First thing I did was use the craft knife to slice along the seam lines, then pried the upper arm open (slowly. seriously go slow.) with a pair of jewelry pliers. It will leave marks on the plastic, but I can buff those out later.

Why am I doing this if the arm's already broken? I want to remove what's left of the peg that's in there. You could also drill it out if you have a dremel, but I wanted to avoid this tutorial needing power tools.

So here's the arm, pried open, with the peg removed.

To close it back up, I used a tiny bit of acetone to melt the plastic at the seams, then held it together until it hardened enough to stay in place. Leave it for a few hours to make sure it's all fully cured, then you can sand the area smooth.

And here's the arm with the broken peg.

So what now? We need to remove the peg piece that's attached to the elbow. I couldn't get a photo of that since it's a delicate process and I only have 2 hands, but here's an artist rendering that would give you the idea.

Take a craft knife, and SLOWLY. CAREFULLY. cut into the ring that surrounds the elbow joint. YOU DO NOT WANT TO GO TOO DEEP, TOO QUICKLY. YOU DO NOT WANT TO ACCIDENTALLY CUT THROUGH THE ELBOW POST. Just go nice and slow. Just chip a little out at a time until you get to the center.

Use pliers as well to pull out the rest of the bits, though you might have to cut a good bit out before you can pull the rest out.

As for my doll, the operation went successfully.

This is what the elbow looks like with the joint peg removed.

Now we've gotten past the hard part, we'll cut off a few inches of wire and string that though the elbow joint. Once through, we'll twist it until it's reasonably tight to the joint. If that makes sense.

It should look like this. Give it a test fit and cut the wire shorter as needed so there's no gap in the joint.

My test fit. Yep, I recycled this for the top photo as well. The blue is just painter's tape.

If you find you can't get it tight enough, and it feels too loose, I'd add a drop a super glue in there. Just keep moving the joint as the glue dries, and it'll add some friction so your arm will hold a pose.

Speaking of glue, I also add a dab of hot glue to the top of our new peg. The coating will add thickness that will help it stay in the upper arm. Tape works too, but hot glue holds up better.

Here's our newly repaired arm back on the doll. Aside from a slight glimmer of silver, the repair is not very obvious I think.

Lizzie can now enjoy having two functional arms again. Whoo-hoo.

While not 100% a beginner repair, it's not particularly difficult either. Just takes some patience and a reasonably steady hand.

Before I go though, some disclaimers/notes: Some wires can rust overtime, so keep an eye on your doll to make sure the wire isn't degrading and discoloring them.

Also, if you do a repair like this, then sell the doll, do let the buyer know. I feel like I shouldn't have to say that, but don't be one of those sellers okay?

This same method can be used for knees, but thighs tend to be made of a harder plastic, and it can be more difficult to pry them open to take the old, broken peg out with out major damage to the upper leg.

Good luck with your repairs! Love y'all. c:

[tavolgisvist]

“Oh! Darling” is a masterful piece of singing from Paul, his most spine-tingling vocal assault since “Long Tall Sally” and “I’m Down.” Beneath a motorized banging piano (left) and blistering chopped guitar chords (right), he gives himself a swaggering bass line that swerves and pivots, mitigating the angered surface with a constantly swaying bottom. The heated rhythms of “Got to Get You into My Life” are slowed to a simmering gospel blues torched with Ray Charles vocal melodramatics, sacred inflections redeeming secular heartache.

In addition to the angular bass line that undergirds the verse, Paul writes himself a walloping solo vocal break at the top of each verse. Like Elvis Presley in “One Night” (1957), McCartney crams more into every new title outcry, making each one more charged than the last—it’s the kind of break that allows a great singer to unleash the very essence of what the song is all about. By seizing the moment completely, Paul defines it, shapes it in his own terms; his vocal authority commands all the other players. He makes these moments unig-norable the same way he makes the feverish ad-libs in “Hey Jude” so compelling—by letting his guts tell him where to land, and trusting his spontaneous sense of what sounds right to guide him toward the most riveting spontaneous phrasing. Nothing sounds planned because it isn’t, and the gripping sense of emotion in the rising and descending swells at the end of each verse helps ground his flights as they set up his next entrance.

The bridge transcends the lift of the verses: as he sings “When you told me/You didn’t need me anymore,” Paul’s voice comes unhinged, and the clipped guitar of the verses balloons into huge arpeggiations of the harmonies (right). It’s one long scream of pain, and Paul sustains the tension right up to the last solo plea, “I nearly broke down and di-i-i-ed, oh, darling!” as he links the final desperate cries of the bridge up with the return of the verse. The escalation of harmony in the bridge is almost secondary to the way he contorts the word “need” (from A major, the band jumps from D7 to F7 on that word to intensify the basic blues progression) . In these moments he nearly leaves everyone else behind, and his focus dares the others to match his emotional pitch.

The third verse is all warmed up: Paul takes more chances stretching words (“I’ll never maaaake it . . . alone”), and lets silences spew their own inner tensions. The second time they move toward the bridge, Paul ad-libs “Believe me, darling”; we know what’s going to happen, and they know that we know, so they’re forced to make even more out of it the second time.

As the second bridge comes around the bend, the sense of excitement is inescapable: the persuasive piano rumble that gets going in the left barely hints at the explosion of energy that takes place once they land on it. The end of the band’s fuse suddenly ignites Paul’s voice: “When you told me—whoo—woo!!”

That single ad-lib takes the whole track into hyper-space—you can hear it in the way the piano’s octaves get manic throughout the succeeding bridge, and the way it reluctantly cools to the unsettled determination of the final verse (“I’ll never le-e-et . . . you down”). (With energy like this in the air, there’s no need to dress things up with roving synthesizers and sly backup vocal jokes.)

The last line Paul sings has all the sorrow of rejection and the resolve of not caving in that the entire song has sustained: he grieves over his loss, convinced that he doesn’t deserve it. A guitar frames the track with bristled notes as the band holds the final chord.

(Tell Me Why by Tim Riley, 1998/2002)

[oomox-oclock]

Wild Child -smut

Anon req (MY FIRST AAAAAHHH) fem reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Duff x reader x Izzy

Warnings: threesome, unprotected p in v, oral F! Receiving, double penetration.

None edited, written on a phone in the middle of the night 😘

IF YOU DIDNT CATCH THE DRIFT THIS IS A SMUT

Second person pov:

The party was already going on strong, people were making out left right and centre, as-well as drinking and then throwing up left right and centre. This was one of the parties of Axl’s friends, you didn’t know him but it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t actually Axl that told you to come, but Duff and Izzy on two different days. Duff and Izzy always fought for your attention, you weren’t all that oblivious about it, you kinda enjoyed two hot guys fighting over you. You didn’t have a favourite, you loved them both, they were both so gorgeous and hot in their own way. Izzy being more mysterious and dark like a vampire, and Duff being more tall, sweet and probably had a secret rough side to him. You had decided to agree to both their requests on coming but came alone as to not add more tension.

You were sat down on the floor in a circle with other people playing spin the bottle. But a little more spicy. You were wearing a short black dress that showed a lot of skin, especially your chest, legs and sides as the dress was two pieces of fabric tied together elegantly on your sides. Izzy and Duff who were sitting across for you couldn’t stop starting at you. Both of them thinking about unspeakable things. The empty beer bottle was spun, everyone starring anxiously. It landed on one of the blonde girls sitting close to you. Another spin. Landing on the brown haired man next to her. Some guy took out a hat and rummaged through it and picked put a piece of paper, “Oooooh, seven minutes in heaven.” He exclaimed. They both got up and headed to the nearest closet. Soon the bottle was spun again, this time landing on Steven who sat next to you, you sighed nervously as it was very close to picking you, then the bottle landed on a girl who was a person away from Izzy. “Blowjob!! Whoo!!” The man picked out the piece of paper from the hat enthusiastically. Steven and the girl went off to a couch somewhere in the distance to do their business. This time the bottle was spun and landed directly onto you. You were feeling hot and excited. A-lot of the guys around were long haired and fine. Izzy and Duff on the other-side were both crossing their fingers behind their backs, and their hearts racing at a unimaginable pace. They’d do anything to just touch you and see you in private. The bottle was spun again, this time it felt so slow and yet so fast. Spin. Spin. Spin. Round. Round and round. The sound of the glass clanking on the floor was the only sound that played in your ears. The bottle had stopped spinning. Landing right in between Duff and Izzy. No more to the right, no more to the left. Just straight in the middle. “Seems like this is gonna be a three person job. Aren’t you lucky hun?” The guy smirked and began to dug into the hat once more. Your face was burning hot. ‘Shit.’ You didn’t even want to look at them at this point, if you did they would be starring straight at you in lust or starring at each other with rage.

The paper was finally taken out of the hat. “A Fuck.” The guy said and following with an over enthusiastic and dramatic ‘oooo’ at the end. Fuck your cheeks were red hot. You glanced up to look at Duff and Izzy, they were watching you with drunken lust. You were drunk too, your mind already foggy but now looking at the hot men across from you made it even more foggy with desire. This was secretly your dream, and you were gonna take it. “Can she not just choose one?” Both Duff and Izzy said in unison then starred each-other down after asking the question to the man. “Nope. Rules are rules. Have fun!” He said and two other guys lead the three of you to vacant bedroom.

It was quiet. But Duff broke the silence. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He said sincerely. “Yeah, it can just be us two.” Izzy said jokingly. But he meant it. Izzy was about to say something more but you interrupted him by quickly kissing him passionately and throwing your arms around his neck, he was surprised but kissed back with aggression and desire. Before he could slip his tongue in, you retracted your lips from him, panting. “Just fuck me already.” You said looking at Duff then back to Izzy. “Fuck” they both groaned in horniness at your words that they’d fantasised about, and it was on.

Soon both of them were just in their underwear, watching you as you slowly stripped off your clothes. Teasing them. Their hard ons were getting harder and more visible by the second of you shedding off your clothes and lastly being stood their in your red lace underwear set. They were going to explode in anticipation. Izzy had enough and pushed you onto the bed, taking off your panties in a flash. Kissing up your inner thighs, getting closer to your soaking core. Meanwhile Duff laid next to you, one arm slumped over your stomach holding your waist. Kissing softly from your jaw to your neck, to your collarbone, shedding off the straps of your bra from your shoulders and began kissing and sucking your exposed cleavage.

You moaned and gasped loudly as Izzy kissed your clit, licking up your folds and stuck his tongue in your wet pussy. “You sound so beautiful…” Duff sighed lustfully, before going to leave another dark purple love bite on your breast. His one hand rubbing up and down your waist, holding onto your soft skin. The other hand intwined with yours as he pins your arm to the bed. Izzy’s hands were harshly holding onto your thighs as he dug his tongue into you, his whole face pushed against your hear, his big nose teasing your clit, making your head spin in ecstasy. You arched your back and moaned, Izzy groaned in response of the sweet sound of him finally pleasing you, the vibrations sent shocks through your pussy and up your spine. Duff unhooked your bra, throwing it to the side and started to suck your nipples. Spinning his tongue around the sensitive bud, which sent a tingling feeling down to your already over stimulated heat. Izzy was going wild on your clit, sucking, licking, flicking and pressing hard against it with his tongue. “Fuck!” You moaned. Your one free hand was grabbing and tangled in Izzy’s black hair, lightly pushing his head further down onto you. Another loud moan and whine. “I’m gonna cum! Oh fuck…” you moaned as your legs began to shake. You heard and felt the vibrations of a muffled ‘cum’ command from Izzy as he continued to eat you out like it was his last meal on earth. Duff held onto your waist tighter as you shook, whispering dirty words in your ear, somehow making you wetter than before. You felt a tingly pressurised feeling in the bottom of your stomach. Growing more and more as you were reaching your climax. You clutched harshly onto Izzy hair and Duff’s hand. “Fuck!” You moaned as you came all over Izzy’s mouth and shook in the two mens grasp.

Izzy detached his face from your pussy, his lustful hazel eyes looking up at you, your slick dripping down to his chin from his mouth. He licked his lips and wiped the bottom half of his face before crawling over you and kissing you. You could taste yourself on his lips. Duff lightly pushed him off you and kissed your cheek. His face now the only thing in view. He didn’t care or even notice that Izzy was giving him a stare that looked like he was going to commit a murder. “What do you want now sweetheart?” Duff asked softly, still filled with desire. “I need you.” You said bluntly, your head was still slightly foggy from your first orgasm of the night. “What do you need from me?” He tilted his head slightly, his hand now trailing down from your waist to your hips, his thumb doing circles around the skin. “I need both of you, in me. Please.” You pleaded in a whine. They didn’t care at this point, they waited to long to have you to care about someone else being there.

You sat on the edge of the bed, intently watching as the two men were taking off their underwear. Both dicks bounced slightly as they came out of the restrictive underwear. Hard, big, dripping with precum. Your pussy throbbing and physically hurting at the empty space that now needed to be filled by them. Their dicks were both big, way above average, Duff’s was a little longer than Izzy’s but Izzy’s was thicker. You were too busy in a heated and drooling daydream to realise that Duff was in front of you, his 6’3 figure leaning down slightly. He took you by the hips, then moving to your ass, picking you up like you weighed absolutely nothing. Your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck, his hands now on the curve of your waist. You were getting heated at the skin to skin contact that was happening, and his hard dick resting on your wet cunt. Duff rested his back on one of the walls of the room, for support, to fuck you at the right angle. Izzy came up behind you, his dick now against your ass, his hands resting on your hips, and kissing your neck. He was so ready to do the most unspeakable things to you. “What about condoms?” Duff asked as he just remembered. Fuck, you didn’t care, you wanted them to fill you and leave you dripping and their cum running down your legs, unable to walk. “I don’t care. Just fuck me.” You spoke. It made both of their minds spin, that was so fucking hot.

“Ready baby?” Izzy asked, his hot breathe against your ear, tingling down your spine. “Mhm.” You responded biting your lip and nodding. Your breath shaky, waiting in anticipation for him to fill you. He held tightly onto your hips. You whined as he slowly entered your pussy. You laid your face in the crook of Duff’s neck as you moaned at the feeling of Izzy stretching you out. Izzy’s head flung back in pleasure as he felt you clench around him as he bottomed you out. You felt hot and antsy already, god you needed to be fucked till day break. Izzy soon pulled out, not all the way, and thrusted back into you lightly. “Fuck…” he huffed lowly. “So fucking tight…” he groaned softly to himself as he stayed in position. “You okay baby?” Duff asked sincerely, his green eyes starring into yours. “Yeah…” you let out a pleasure filled sigh. “Are you ready?” He asked. You nodded. You leaned back a bit against Izzy’s chest as Duff’s tip was grazing against your already filled hole. “Go slow.” Izzy told him. “If he hurts you I’ll beat him.” Izzy whispered in your ear light heartedly. You gave a small smile in response. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Duff said. You nodded again. You exhaled deeply as Duff pushed into you, going slowly and carefully. You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Duff stopped, “Shit, are you okay?” He asked in worry. “Please just keep going” You whined. The tears were of pain and pleasure. Meanwhile Izzy’s hand snaked around and his two fingers began to rub on your clit. Now easing the pain of your pussy being stretched to it’s limits. Izzy also began leaving big hickeys on your neck, which relieved more of the pain. Duff panted and lowly groaned at the little space he was squeezed in. Swore he could cum just at this moment. His skin finally met yours and his tip reached the end. You moaned at this fantasy feeling of both of them being in you. Duff soon did the same as Izzy and did one thrust into you. The back of your head now rested on Izzy’s shoulder as you moaned loudly, while Duff hit your g spot and Izzy touched you in the right place.

After a few minutes of grunts and groans and them cockwarming inside of you, you were ready to be railed by them and you told them. Duff began to slowing thrust in and out of you, hitting your g spot. Soon as you were ready Izzy joined, but thrusting one second behind Duff’s rhythm. It was double the amount of skin against skin slapping that echoed through out the room. “Oh god!” You let out a moan which followed calling out both their names. Setting them off. Their thrusts driving faster and hitting your spots harder than before. You clawed at Duff’s back, whining and moaning in his ear, and kissing groaned as he bit harshly into your skin on your neck and his fingers working faster on your clit. “Oh fuck baby, I’m gonna cum.” Duff panted between sloppy thrusts, you could feel Izzy was too. “Cum in me!” You stuttered, slurring a bit as your brain was going foggy and everything was going numb, you were close as well. “I’m gonna-…!” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you came all over their dicks as they continued to raw dog your pussy to pieces. “ Fuck! I love you princess…” Izzy exhaled into your ear right before he spilled inside you. Duff kissed you lustfully, his tongue entering your mouth, and your two tongues dancing as he coated your insides with his cum which was now mixed with Izzy’s.

“You’re mine.” They both whispered in your ear in unison.

A/n: OMG SORRY IF THIS WAS SHIT

[admiral-mason]

Ultra-Impact Part 5 (I need a better title for this shit lmfao)

Yes, I need better titles, so if anyone can give them then say so in the comments below

Idea based on @valeriele3's Live Stream post

0-4 0-5 << YOU ARE HERE 1-1

PRELUDE /// CLIMAX START THE HYPERDEATH

TIME TO PROVE YOURSELF.

As the horde of husks closed in, your confidence immediately dropped. No events in your life have ever prepared you to fight off a horde of hellish humanoids.

Immediately, both V1 and V2 started attacking the horde of husks, the former using some form of a sawblade launcher while the latter used his nailgun.

This drew most of the husks' attention to the machine duo, but a filth rushed towards you. You hesitated for too long, and it bit you on the arm.

"FUCKING- AAAGGGHHH-!!" In response, you haphazardly shot at it, firing two revolver rounds from your left revolver at its body. As its blood stained your clothes and arm, the pain rapidly dissipated.

DESTRUCTIVE + KILL

This also unfortunately drew the attention of a few more filth.

You moved away from them while shooting your revolvers, but as soon as you killed all but two of them, you couldn't fire any more rounds and instead resorted to punching them. Then you heard another one attempting to sneak up on you and you slapped it twice in the face with your revolver.

DESTRUCTIVE + KILL + BITCHSLAP + BITCHSLAP + KILL + KILL + KILL

"Huh, new style bonuses..." You then looked at your revolvers and noticed that they showed a 0 on their displays before the right one turned to 1, 2, 3, and so forth with the left one following behind right after.

However, you then had to dodge two crosses of projectiles and you saw the culprits: soldiers. As their blue right-arm cannons charged more projectiles, you shot one of them before parrying the other's projectiles back at him.

CHAOTIC + FRIENDLY FIRE + PARRY

Seeing no imminent danger, you watched V1 and V2 clear up the last hellish forces. However, more ended up spawning- and this time machines were involved.

Alongside the filths, strays, schisms, and soldiers were drones and streetcleaners. V1 and V2 went at it again; V1 used a coin to interrupt two strays preparing projectiles while V2 eradicated a group of filth with his knuckleblaster.

Not being caught in imminent danger, you wanted to try something. Rushing forward a bit and bringing your body mass to the ground, you slid forward akin to V1 and V2 when they did so. Getting back up, you slid towards V1's direction and shot up a drone before she parried it into a schism.

CHAOTIC + ASSISTED KILL + KILL

"Whoo, you're sliding! You're getting ahold of this already, dear godfather!" V1 exclaimed as she blew up a couple of strays with a rocket launcher before blowing up another group of filths with a malicious railcannon.

"Uh- actually I don't wanna be- OH SHIT!" You exclaimed as you heard an unparryable attack sound and barely avoided a streetcleaner's attack by sliding away, taking some damage in the process. Turns out that the fire could burn your clothes though, as evident as to how the right sleeve of your hoodie got burned off.

It was your favorite hoodie, the piece of clothing that stuck with you thick and thin, every time you wanted to warm up and sit on your chair to play games. Seeing its sleeve burned off left you absolutely pissed.

A primal rage you felt after dying to Gabriel so many times in 6-2 surfaced. "My fucking hoodie! DIE YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" You screamed in anger as you shot the streetcleaner with two revolver shots to its head before sliding up to it and punching it.

You then noticed two drones accompanied by four strays and two schisms attempt to assault you; you dodged the projectiles before parrying one into the group, killing the strays and severely harming the schisms. You repeated this with the drones, even sending one of them flying into the schisms as you did back while playing Limbo's stages.

Finally clearing up the dangers around you, you went off to help V1 and V2 mop up anyone remaining.

Your twitch chat found out a few minutes ago that apparently the stream can put your perspective on the stream from a message sent by the terminal:

TERMINAL_069: Greetings, mankind! I just want to mention that I can project your beloved human from their eyes! This way, we all can enjoy some quality entertainment: combat!

It the followed up with another message:

TERMINAL_069: Unfortunately, they cannot interact with you until I am placed into an actual terminal body. Oh! And an unrelated, but notable mention: if you wish to donate them money, do it. Each dollar donated equals a thousand points for new weapons to their arsenal!

Now, your chat and the terminal interacted while watching you fight like an action movie.

Brrrrrrtt: Yep everyone's fucked

feetusdeletussthenyeetus: He's in his villain arc

NaviaLover291: Oh my god I did not expect them to get ahold of themselves this quickly!

valeriele3 donated $10.00: "I hope this helps you [name]!"

TERMINAL_069: It will indeed, valeriele3!

johnifer donated $200.00: "I'm glad I pirated indie games to donate this, guys pirating indie games can do good!!!!"

TERMINAL_069: I don't know what that means, but if it helps [name] then it should be good!

Although slightly predictable and slow, you generally got ahold of how V1 and V2 fought, dodging and parrying every projectile known to man before revolver shots ensued. Your double revolvers especially helped since double the firepower meant that some enemies that took two shots to kill now went down with a single blast.

You also learned how to dash and ground slam, performing the former frequently to dodge various attacks while utilizing the latter to slam into a street cleaner.

0329: Better streaming than Disney plus

Adm!ra1-M4son: This shit fire!

bunniotomia: I hope Razor and Bennett are okay...

Once V1 killed the last husk, you three managed to recuperate a little bit.

"Whoo! Nice going, godfather!" She said. "A little bit more combat and your kill count will be like mine and V2's in no time!"

"Uh- actually I'm not sure why I'm called 'godfather,' could you just call me [name]?"

V1 thought about it for a bit before responding. "Okay!" She simply said, respecting your choice.

"You two done talking?" V2 said. "If so, then let's get on with it. Follow me" However, just as the three of you started moving, a familiar yellow, scrappy machine was suddenly teleported in front of you three.

The Swordsmachine.

It immediately ran towards V1 before firing its shotgun. The blast, instead of looking like small grainy pellets, looked like a goddamn explosion from your vision.

V1 dodged the shot before responding with her own shotgun and disrespecting the machine by punching it a few times before retreating. V2, meanwhile, took the distance and responded with a Screwdriver railcannon shot.

You couldn't do much aside from offering a few revolver shots here and there, but you did parry one of the Swordsmachine's sword swings when it got close to V1 and tried attacking her with its sword. This hit the tall-headed machine directly in the face.

DESTRUCTIVE + PARRY

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-AHHH-ER." The machine screamed, visibly pissed off with how its blue eyes shifted to red. Now its target priority was you, and you barely managed to dodge its sword swing. After that, V1 tossed four coins into the air before hitting them with her electric railcannon. V2 performed the same tactic for additional damage.

This caused the Swordsmachine to scream in pain again, and you noticed how its right arm now lay on the floor along with its shotgun.

Seizing the opportunity, you slid over to the gun and snatched it while V1 and V2 caused more damage to it. Suddenly your dual revolvers were gone and another tutorial box revealed itself:

SHOTGUN: PRIMARY FIRE PIERCES WEAKER ENEMIES

A brief look at the gun showed that it was the blue variant or the core eject shotgun, the variant initially obtained when defeating the Swordsmachine for the first time in Ultrakill.

You had to stop admiring the gun and slide away because the Swordsmachine clearly wanted to end you.

It threw its sword at you, which you just barely dodged. You stopped sliding and decided to pull off a trick that your twitch chat taught you: projectile boosting.

You tried performing a pushing motion in front of the shotgun as you fired it, and sure enough, your screen froze and flashed white for a second before you saw a flaming, orange mass fly towards the Swordsmachine and hit it square in the head.

DESTRUCTIVE + PROJECTILE BOOST

This also caused the Swordsmachine to let out a scream as it fell to the floor, limp. Once you confirmed your safety, you looked over at the spot where your hoodie's right sleeve used to be before sighing a little.

"Hey, that was my kill!" V1 exclaimed before she noticed your shotgun. "Oh hey, nice! You're building up your own arsenal."

"...I'm becoming a true American, haha," you jokingly said to her response. "Okay, I'm assuming that the Swordsmachine was the last threat."

"Judging by me, likely so. Now, I say we head to Mondstadt first, since we're the closest nearby." V2 said, looking at the nation of freedom. "Unfortunately, I don't know how we'll purge Hell from this world, so until then, just shoot everything that tries to kill us."

"Alright, seems easy enough!" V1 said before she rushed on over in the direction of the nation. And then, shit cranked up from one hundred to two hundred.

Massive spikes rose from the ground, steadily enfolding and enveloping the city and the lake surrounding it. Dragonspine followed shortly after, and bloody red vein-like cascaded up the massive coverings, occasionally pulsating like a human heart.

And to top it all off, once the ground lay motionless, a familiar red elevator raised itself right ahead of you three. The lights turned on and the doors opened.

"...I guess we head in now?" You asked and the two machines nodded. The three of you stepped in and you saw the long drop downwards with no end in sight.

"...Hey, uh, do I take fall damage?" You asked in a slightly quivering tone. V2 simply responded with "I have no idea."

V1 then decided to carry you bridal-style out of all positions. "Don't worry, [name]! Since I don't suffer fall damage when I land, you shouldn't either! Now, in we go!"

"Waitwaitwait-whooOOAAAA!!" You screamed as V1 jumped down the elevator, with V2 jumping in soon behind.

0-5: START THE HYPERDEATH: COMPLETED

Taglist: @valeriele3, @bunniotomia, @feetusdeletussthenyeetus, @quantoom

[heartfullofleeches]

[Toon Yan + G.N Babysitter Reader]

Word Count: 2.3k

-

"Jessie! Dinner!-"

"Five more minutes!"

You've been their age before. Five minutes will turn into twenty if you let them off so easily. Their obsession with that show is starting to become a bit of a problem, but you're glad they're finally leaving their room. Jessie had always been a shy kid according to their parents and what you'd seen yourself briefly before hire. The move to a new city had taken it's toll on the kid overtime and so they boarded themselves up in their room to cope.

Among the toys and old photos, one other relic of their past was able to withstand the test of distance. A cartoon centered around the adventures of a well intending yet mischievous main character of unknown species and origin. When interviewed by their parents the show had to be on for them to stay in the same room as you. You got them to slowly open up during the process by asking them about the show and the plush cradled in their arms. They went from hiding behind their mother's sleeve to speaking non-stop paused only by their parents informing them you'd be back next week to continue the conversation.

You grant them the spare time as you finish setting up the table - ready to call them as you walk over the living room entrance. Jessie sprints past you and climbs into the empty chair, arranging their doll in the seat next to them. You push both up to the table as Jessie pulls their plate closer.

"Hungry?"

Jessie tears the crust off their sandwich and shoves it in their mouth. "Cholly says I better listen to you since you're their best friend and I need to eat if I want to get bigger."

"Really? Well thank you, Cholly." Amused - you prevent the doll from falling when it tips over as you move its chair, patting its plush head in appreciation for the help. "Alright, Jess. Don't rush, but try to finish up before I come back. Your parents will be home in an hour and want you in bed by the time they get here."

You pick up the butter knife off the table to rinse it off when a small voice stops you.

"Y/n, can you make one for Cholly too?"

Their parents have told you about their recent chats with their favorite staring characters. They never did this before - even before the move. They figure Jessie was still struggling with the change plus the start of school being around the corner and asked you to just play along which you were glad to do without their asking.

"Cholly likes peanut butter and honey sandwiches?"

"They prefer orange jelly more than honey, but anything will do. They said watching you all day works up an appetite."

"....What are your parents letting you see when I'm not here?"

They shrug. "Same things I see when you're here."

You wait till the finish half of their sandwich before making another to make sure "Cholly" really wants it. You set it down in front of the doll as you head into the living room to clean up before their parents arrive. The television basks the room in a eerie blue shadow. You round the table and stare briefly at the puzzle you and Jessie had done earlier. Completed, it was a picture of the vaguely hare-like creature the kid adored wrapping their beloved scarf around a bundle of wild flower in a makeshift bouquet. A pulled frame from an episode where they'd done the same to artfully whoo their way into someone's heart to steal a telescope they saw from their window.

Picking apart the pieces, you note a few of them missing and already in the box. Jessie must've started taking it apart for you - but you can't find the absent piece making up their right eye between what few pieces filled the box and what was left on the table. You search the couch where you were sitting and the floor below with no luck. Running your hands through the fine carpet you find it at last - hiding beneath the TV stand.

"You're welcome, Gorgeous!"

Cholly, dressed as a mail carrier, passes off a large box to an equally as confused patron - standing straight as a pike and saluting customer once their hands are free of the package. You'd seen this episode with Jessie before. Didn't their sentence end with -

"Y/n, we're done!"

"Coming!"

You throw the puzzle piece into the box and place it on the top shelf of the book stand connected to the TV. Jessie shuts the dishwasher as you reenter the kitchen, Cholly tucked under arm. Left on the table is a napkin adorned with a crudely made heart drawn out with orange crayon - Cholly's alleged favor color and one missing from Jessie's pencil box. There was a C scribbled just below the drawing.

"Did you draw this?"

Jessie holds up the real culprit. "No, Cholly did it. They said that sandwich was better than any of dad's cooking and you'd be better as a chef, but we'd both miss you too much if you became one."

They squeeze Cholly to their chest, authenticating the truth of their statement as their voice shrinks behind the doll's fur. You gently grip their shoulder - offering a reassuring smile. "Well I guess the world's gonna have to miss out on another great chef because I don't plan on leaving either of you soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Jessie."

You usher them upstairs and into the bathroom as time ticks on, taking the Cholly doll to get them settled in bed while Jessie brushed their teeth. After sharing so much about the Cholly with you, you were the only one they allowed to take it from their sight. Their parents are too rough and nobody knows how to care for them better than their best friend. You tuck the doll into the sheets, pulling the appropriately themed blankets up to their chin as the bathroom lights flicker off. Just about everything in Jessie's room was themed after that show. The dedication was cute. They crawl into bed next to Cholly and get beneath the covers as you fit them around them both, freeing Cholly's hands and placing them on top as Jessie told you they liked.

"Y/n, how did you become Cholly's best friend?"

You turn off their lamp as you sit on the edge of the bed. "I don't know. You're the one who introduced us so I guess you're the one to thank for that. They're pretty funny too and who doesn't love a fun friend?.... You're not jealous, are you?"

Jessie shakes their head. "No, I'm happy that you get along. Cholly said they were lonely before they met and while playing with me is fun it's something different. Cholly hasn't smiled like they did when you promised to stay with us since they came out of the tv."

"Well it's a promise I intend to keep for as long as you both need me. Goodnight, Jess. Cholly."

You nod to them both, standing to leave. Jessie pokes their head momentarily under the covets before calling out.

"Can Cholly have a kiss before you go?"

"I think that can be arranged." You kiss the doll's furry head. It's warmer and softer than you remember, chalking it up to be the heat of the blanket and a recent wash. Smells like tangerines. You wish them both goodnight once as you exit the room, pulling the door shut behind you. Walking down the stairs, small steps join you as you reach the bottom.

"Jess? What are you doing out of bed?"

"Cholly wanted me to give their scarf. They said it's chilly outside tonight and you shouldn't leave without extra protection."

It's a miracle they hadn't tripped over the material in their decent. The burnt orange bundled in their small arms draped over their shoulders and around their torst like the body of constricting serpent. Even you would have some difficulty with its length less you wrapped it around your neck ten times over. The fabric was softer than silk and weighed like a feather in your hands. Amazed by the quality, your fingers run over a discrepancy in texture hard to ignore. The letter C drawn in black ink barring uncanny resemblance to one you had seen before."

"Jessie, this is so sweet, but I can't take something your parents obviously -"

"Mom's here. See you later, Y/n. Bye, Cholly!"

Jessie waves and runs back up stairs as the aggressive glint of a car's headlights bleed through the open curtains. You shove the scarf into your bag to save for another conversation as you open the front door. You step out into the blistering cold - arms bound to your chest to keep in the warmth of your body heat circulating through your jacket. Cholly was right. It's freezing out here.

You're sure Jessie's mother won't mind you using what was likely her scarf if you explained things to her. You take the scarf out as you walk, wrapping it snug while treading carefully down the driveway up to her car as she shuts the door. Jessie's mother dawns a smile through chattering teeth, pulling a hand from the deep pocket of her coat to bring you in for a hug as you near.

"So good to see you. Had to leave earlier than usual this morning so I wasn't around to see you come in. Love the new scarf. I assume Jessie had a good day and is on their way to bed?"

"From a good friend apparently." You excuse, too tired and cold to properly explain. "Glued to the TV as usual, but we played a few games and got a puzzle done to past the time until bed. I'll be sad to see them less when they start school."

"Well there's plenty of time before then. With our schedules I'm sure we'll still be needing your help with a few adjustments. Have a safe drive home, Y/n."

"Call when you need me." You bid their mother fair well as she walks up to the front door and you unlock your car door. Climbing in, a brief flash darts over the overhead mirror from the back seat. You adjust the lense and watch as the neighbor across the street pulls out of their driveway. You beat your exhaustion to the back of your mind temporarily as you insert the key into the engine.

-

Arriving home, you shed yourself of your belongings and outer clothing as you collapse on the couch. The scarf's impressive length allows it to cushion your body the same as any blanket it as you unwrap a few of its layers. You pick up the remote left on one of the couch pillows and surf through the channels for something to watch you as you fell asleep. Your eyelids weight heavier as that familiar show tune plays. As much as you loved the kid Jessie spoiled just about every bit of the cartoon when you watched it together, so you took the liberty of watching it at home to avoid spoilers and catch facts about their favorite toon. It had become a go to when you wanted to mindlessly unwind from a long day.

The title card reads the name of an episode engraved into mirror. "Looking Glass Lovers." The equincial episode in which Cholly flirts with a never seen home owner for access to the spy glass in their bedroom. The episode starts a little different than you remembered. For one, they already had the tool of such they sought after and strolled down the same street seen in the original run viewing the world from its lense. Pointing the lense directly at the screen their seeing eye bulges against glass - irises of both eyes forming pink love hearts as smaller ones float above their head as they drop the telescope and it rolls off screen.

Cholly approaches the house which the episode is based around and enter the scene of their brief love interest's yard, begins picking flower following the pattern of the original run. Another divergence to the plot is that they pick the array straight from the garden over the wild dandelions they'd plucked from the front of the house in other showings. Cholly goes to grab their scarf to complete the pocket only to find their neck exposed. They reach down their shirt, fishing out a stack of plates that clatter around them as they drop them, an actual fish, and a worn down orange crayon. They throw the crayon back down the hatch with a shrug.

"Huh, wonder where that old thing has gone. Wherever it is I'm positive it's in good hands."

Cholly gathers up the flowers and strides up to the porch. They brush their pointy ears flat with their hand, adjusts an invisible bow tie, and raises their hand to knock on the door. The credits roll as their hand meets the wood - three in rhythm taps drumming from your front door.

Hands swearing, you answer the door to find a fishbowl on your porch stuffed to the brim with bright red and pink roses. A note card with waxy ink sits next to it.

"Sorry, gorgeous! Despite all the time we spent together I still get cold feet at the very thought of ya seeing me. Glad to see you got home safe and that you like my little gift. Even mud would look good on a catch like you so to see my old rags on you fills me with joy. Promise I won't chicken out the next time we met. Thanks for keeping yours and being my sunshine at the end of the tunnel. You' never know how much you need someone to brighten those dark days when clouds are you see.

Stay warm - C."

Returning to the couch with more questions than your spent mind could process - a text message from Jessie's mother adding to your confusion.

"Sorry to bug you so late, but have you seen Jessie's fish tank??"

[retroghost16]

POV: The last thing the King sees before Siffrin beats his a** for the 33rd time.

Whoo I finally finished the Siffrin Fanart I started! For an art piece I started on a whim and finished in a day I think it turned out decently well. I had a loooot of fun dealing with both the pose, even though it was draw from reference, and dealing with all the folds of their poncho as well. Definitely worth the effort though!

Anyways I hope y'all enjoy as I really needed to make an art piece that wasn't my usual low effort sketchbook pages. Speaking of which, this one is counting towards my daily art goal as well. And btw here's the reference I used for this pose. Its of Venom from Guilty Gear during his instant kill animation.

Today's song is Love the Subhuman Self by AISHA, Jamison Boaz, & Arc System Works (Guilty Gear Strive Milia Rage's Theme song)

03.08.2025

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.4 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.

You whine trying to chase after the ball as Astarion was tugging you back to him to check your measurements. You pout as you finally stand still. “Hells, even a cat does better at holding still. “ He sighs before slipping on your new outfit. “There, how does it fit?” He steps back watching you admire the new outfit made. “It fits me better!” You smile, finally you could stretch without hurting your limbs from how tight your old outfit was. You go to chase the ball but once again the pale elf stops you “Please don’t create holes in your new outfit” He sighs before letting you go off.  Karlach walks over “Seems like the little soldier is growing up.” She smiles watching you play off with the ball in camp. “Well obviously, they're Dhampir. Very different from humans and vampires.” He crossed his arms looking at the one horned woman. “So free spirited…do you think we can contain their blood lust?” She whispers as you were near them playing. Astarion thinks on the subject. Even he was shocked to see the bunny in pieces. “ I don’t know, that is why I am reading this book…it should be…possible since they have a human side…we just have to be patient…” He says slowly. He wasn’t even confident in his answer. “It all depends how strong our little soldier is,” Karlach smiles, keeping a positive attitude. Astarion nods and thought, ‘yes it all depends on them’ 

Night came, everyone was in the fire waiting for Gale’s cooking to be done. You look around hearing the Owl hoot but you weren’t hearing their whoo but rather how their blood pumps. Tav was watching you before gently nudge Astarion. He looks over to them before seeing Tav move their eyes towards (Y/N). He looks over to you and where you were looking before calling out your name “(Y/N) foods almost ready, look” He tries to distract you. Tav smiles seeing you and Astarion make small talk, each word flowing out of his mouth made your eyes shine with glee. The pale elf stops and gets up holding your hand. Everyone else stood up seeing the blade of Frontiers in their camp. You tried to peek around Astarion before he pushed you back “Stay back.” He mutters. After finally convincing Wyll that Karlach was no threat, everyone was back in their spot around the campfire eating the meal Gale had prepared. You look at the bowl in front of you before pushing it aside. “You need to eat” Astarion pushes the bowl back into your hands. You shake your head “No!” You whine. 

Wyll looks over “ I find it odd that a vampire spawn is looking after a child.” He smiles looking at you fighting Astarion with the bowl. Tav looks up “It’s not really…(Y/N) isn’t exactly Human either…or …a vampire spawn…” They began. Wyll looks over to them. “Oh? What can this little adorable apple be?” He smiles. “For the love of…just tell the monster hunter.” Astarion huffs feeling annoyed as you reject the spoon in your mouth. “They are a Dhampir” Tav broke the news as Wyll stopped midway with the spoon in his mouth. “ I beg your pardon…” He says looking back at you seeing the spoon being shoved gently in your mouth with the help of Gale holding you still. “ A Dhampir ... .never in my life haunting…I would ever come across such a creature…an adorable one as well.” He walks over to you, taking a look. “Watch it, they are not some artwork” Astarion mutters, placing you in his lap and kept feeding you. Keeping you away from Wyll. 

The day has risen and you were happily bouncing around holding on to Tav as you were included in the group. Astarion threw a fit, not wanting to leave you alone with Wyll and Gale who were going to be left behind. So here you were, admiring the wilderness before looking over and hearing some shouting in the distance. “I told you this is better if (Y/N) joins us when we won’t be battling the globins to rescue this stupid Halsin guy. Gale is so irresponsible and Wyll, don’t get me started” Astarion huffs. Shadowheart turns around but stops “We lost them….” She sighs.  Tav turns around “(Y/N)?” They call out before walking around trying to find you before seeing you standing in front of a wooden cage that had Lae’zel inside. “Don’t ever leave our side” Tav looks over to you before walking forward to speak with Lae’zel. Astarion walks over and holds your hand. “Don’t ever walk off ever again! You do know this goes on the possibility of letting you join in our adventures.” He looks at you. “But I heard yelling so I wanted to check it out.” You pout only for Astarion to sigh “You are a big headache you know that?” He mutters holding your hand letting Tav handle the situation with Lae’zel.

After not getting a please from Lae’zel, everyone was back at camp. Gale was cooking as always, everyone else was doing their own thing. You were walking around the camp, collecting even more flowers. You were collecting them near Lae’zel’s camp “Istik, come here” She called out. You walk over holding your flowers staying quiet. “What are you, are you also a vampire Spawn?” Her eyes look at yours. “No…I’m a Dhampir.” You meekly whisper. “Chk, a Dhampir.” She says “Listen here Istik, if you ever take one bite off of me. I will show you what a blade does” She threatens. You only tear  up and ran off running to Astarion who was busy talking to Tav, “Astarion!” You yelled, hugging his leg. “What’s the matter?” He looks down at you and picks you up. “She! She!” You only hiccup, not able to form complete sentences. “Come out now, I am no mind reader.” Tav rubs your back “ What’s wrong?” They whisper. “She threatened me…” You whisper, laying your chubby cheek on Astarions shoulder. Tav looks over to where you were pointing. “ I see, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to her.” They pat your head and walk off. Astarion huffs “Oh please, she only did so because she was scared of you. She knows you’re powerful…even I know your strength ... .so does Cazador.” He whispers and rubs your back. “I think it’s time we eat and then we’ll sleep for the night?” He plants soft kisses to the side of your head and he stops. What the hells was that for? Why did he do that? He looks down at you only to see you smile clinging on to him. Watching Shadowheart and Lae’zel argue with each other,  Tav tries to keep the peace between the two. He smiles, planting one more on your head and walks over to the campfire.

[katzirrart]

Finally completed this little piece for the Ghibli AU with my girlfriend.

I think Mobius is some kinda wandering artist type who is intrigued by the bristly Loki he's told about by Casey. And he kinda... 'bumps' into them at the market.

Had a lot of fun with this one honestly - especially the depth of field and background elements so whoo!

[renaissance35]

WHOOooo, whoo!! Check, Them Out!! All sleek, shiny, and beautiful 🤩😍❤️ honestly this must be my best piece yet. They look amazing (not that they weren't wonderful before) but it's 13 days until Halloween👻 and there is already 2 new episodes on season two of Spy x Family. So I thought, why not, I finally finished a project that I started a year ago. And wow I feel great! They look great!

Enjoy this wonderful work of art!!😁✨

[dozing-marshmallow]

could i maybe request some yandere!chris mclean headcanons if thats alright with you? (bonus points if its with a reader that lowkey fears him)

ps love ur work, you're one of the very small amount of people that write for my man chris

Helloo, and of course it’s alright!! Thank you for the request, I hope these headcanons below are good enough, and aw thank you, I appreciate that! 💗 (Don’t worry, I plan on posting Chris McLean content for a long time ;).) YANDERE!CHRIS MCLEAN HEADCANONS 

Chris didn’t know what to do. He had never cared so much about another living person before.

But here he was, hiring a private investigator to find out everything he could about you.

For someone who was meant to be his personal assistant, you noticed he was way too proud to showcase you to the public and showered you with more gifts than you had received your entire childhood.

Because of this uncontrollable hearts for eyes he had for you, he had an internal conflict pulling him from both sides of his head. Should he use you as a punching bag for laughs or should he reserve your body as its natural state?

Nahh he already had those moronic teenagers to feed his sadism- Alright, but imagine how good it’ll feel to see you cry...and hear your pleads...for him to stop...

Such that human life was too cheap for him.

Don’t worry, Chris isn’t the type of yandere to tie you down in a dark basement whenever he has to leave for extended periods: instead, he was more than happy to still have you on the show, as long as you played along for the cameras. Now that you knew the full truth behind his continuous gift showering and sweeter treatment, hearing him hide the lovesickness in his voice everyday to the others made you nauseous.

Another day of agony led you to his same heavenly bed.

Nothing was as enjoyable as it used to be.

At least the guy was loyal- he gave up on attending parties and social events, unless he arranged his own with you, and was immune to alternative admiration.

That doesn’t mean it got better. Occasionally, Chris appears to have let his darker conscience win, seeing how he would stick his saliva into your wounds with his tongue where your warm blood cried, or caught it to use as an ingredient for his coffee.

One day, he must have wondered what it’d look like for the roles to be reversed, openly admitting it as you drank your hot chocolate that he had mixed some of his blood in it so that “you could always have a piece of me inside of you.”

“How...can you give me something with your blood in it to drink!?” You spluttered horrified, wiping your mouth.

For a second, it’s like he gained a realising glimpse at what he’s done, but then happily turns it into a milestone,“Haha okay, I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think about how messed up that was until I heard you say it. Soooo, I might be a bit of a masochist? Whoo! Love really does teach you things you never knew about yourself, doesn’t it, my love, (Y/N)? I love that name, by the way. (Y/N). It suits you reaaaaaaally well!”

Yeah and thanks to him, you grew to hate it.

It spirals to the sickening point where Chris didn’t even want anyone else to look at you, whether it was from the screen or in person. How did he ensure this? Simple. You were going to make one final appearance on Total Drama to bid your departure from show business so nobody would suspect your absence in future episodes.

Well, it worked. So authentic that no one thought of anything more when you started sobbing right there and then or how Chris came to escort you away.

Albeit your friends and family weren’t deceived for long when they never heard from you again.

And it’s going to stay that way, for Chris paid the police department situated in Ontario to ignore, close, reject all reports filed in your name. He may as well have removed your citizenship.

The frightening power of the bourgeoisie.

Now you were truly prohibited from leaving his grounds.

“Why the long face, (Y/N)? Aren’t you happy?”

“No...” You tremble,“I... I want to go home...so badly.”

“Home?” He twirls you around, hands gripped on your shoulders in true puzzlement,“This is your home.”

“No, it’s...not. I...don’t belong here... You scare me.”

“Huh? Me? Scare you? (Y/N), whatever do you mean? Everything I’ve been doing so far...is for you! Now that we don’t have to worry about the police, it’s way easier for us to be together in peace! See how thoughtful I am, (Y/N)? No need to thank me.”

“Chris I’m sorry, but...” you wince, knowing such bold answer may trigger a dangerous reaction,“I can’t...reciprocate. See, I didn’t know th...there was something else you wanted from me other than me working for you... I...think you’d be better off spending your time and love on someone else.”

“Oh (Y/N),” he chuckles darkly, sprinkling your disbelieved face with kisses,“It’s all these well meaning, pure hearted things you say that has me falling more and more in love with you... I’m not worried you don’t feel the same. In fact, I honestly couldn’t care less. As long as I can hear you breathe...”

He could hear it alright. Just the same in his sleep... Perfect.