#and then my party pants which i have in red and orange

[anxiouslyeccentric]

@three-dee-ess i figure im a lil late to the party but it'd be worng to not contribute my humble pile

From left to right top to bottom:

The blue 3DS XL belonged to my older brother, who let me use it to play my copy of Pokémon Y until our parents eventually bought me my own 2DS, the one all the way to the far right with its circle pad lovingly rubbed off XD. The XL 3DS for a few years was unplayable since my big brother had dropped it off of a desk while it was plugged in, damaging the charge port until i eventually found a place that could fix it, a place id eventually end up working at myself XD.

The orange new 2ds right below it was also my big brother's, this the replacement he'd bought and used after his first 3ds had its charge port damaged. From a few years stuffed in and out of tight pants pockers, the shell of the console became bent, and it had difficulty reading games until i ended up fixing the issue myself a few months after he decided to part with it.

The Special edition Pikachu 3DS was a Mercari find years ago when i was at my first job making bookoo money with no bills to pay, and decided 200 was a great price for Pikachu and him cheeks. Love this system, even though if you put it in sleep mode and carry it around for more than a few hours, it has an error and makes you turn off the system, so not a Walking-around-as-a-tourist 3DS unfortunately, but other than that and a minor chip in the shell, works perfect!

The blue base model is actually a modded japanese base model with a capture card installed! Ive yet to have time to properly use it in any kind of streaming capacity, but it's still with the box and has everything from the modder! I paid a pretty penny for it a few years back, but im not sure it would pull the same value today. Who knows!

The orange and white new 2ds with the target exclusive pikachu hard shell was a christmas gift from back in highschool. I spent many an off hour in my debate class's script room hunting shinys and playing pokemon Amie in my copy of Alpha sapphire for hours on end. Great times! It's lovingly adorned with stickers, and remains my most decorated 3ds.

And lastly, but certainly not least, my new 3ds with a healthy collection of kisekai plates. This was actually a 20th Anniversary pokemon red and blue edition that had its original box, inserts AND plates included with it! Paid about the same for the 3ds with the capture card, but this one had absolutely increased in price since my purchasing. The other plates id come across separately, all during my time with my first job. Generally i prefer having the 151 pokemon colored spites plates that are on it now, or the Blue Gingam Check plates, and i even purchased the matching theme for the system before the E-shop closed, so they match! This system is my current "main one" and has every pokemon virtual console software downloaded onto it pre eshop closure, and i just recently finally modded it for pretendo and Netpass, both of which work wonderfully!

Im really hoping pretendo can get the Pokémon chat Player Search System up and running eventually for Pokémon X, Y, omega ruby and alpha sapphire, since a bulk of my time with the 3ds was spent battling and wonder trading to my heart's content. I can only hope.

Currently im playing a lot of Tomodachii life, a game i picked up from my job last christmas as a gift to myself, and fantasy life! Both heavy hitters I'd recommend to anyone with a 3DS! But yea, buy a 3ds for a reasonable price, and mod that sucker! Use Net pass and play all the games you want! All emulation is ethical ethical emulation.

[cupid-styles]

halloween plans

a halloween blurb based on you're my last shot !!

in which a pregnant y/n doesn't like harry very much, except they're having a baby together and for some reason, he wants to celebrate halloween with her.

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: baby talk/pregnant y/n

masterlist | talk to me

halloween/fall blurb masterlist

. . .

"But—"

"No, Harry."

"What if—"

"No."

"Y/N, you're not even listening to me!"

"Because I'm four months pregnant! Why would I want to go to a Halloween party at Niall's house when I can't even drink?"

She huffs, leaning her head against the glass of the passenger's side window as Harry drives them back from her 17 week sonogram. Halloween is a week away, and Y/N has no plans besides answering the door for trick-or-treaters and eating the leftover candy while she watches Hocus Pocus. She's not surprised that Harry has plans to celebrate that evening — she'd expected as much — but she is surprised that he's attempting to wrangle her into them.

"I won't drink, either," Harry replies with a shrug, as if he's implying how easy it is to be pregnant (it's not, and Y/N realized that about four weeks in when her morning sickness started happening every afternoon). "It wouldn't be fair of me if I made you come along and I got piss drunk anyway."

"You have no idea how annoying it is to be around drunk people when you're sober," Y/N grumbles, thinking back to last week when their friends insisted she come out for Josette's birthday. Within an hour, she was exhausted, her ankles were swollen, and she was ready to go home. 

"It's our last Halloween not being parents. Don't you think we should at least try to enjoy ourselves? Besides, what were you gonna do? Sit at home on your couch all night?"

She reaches over to smack his arm and he immediately whines, making her roll her eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with sitting at home on Halloween, you jerk. My neighborhood gets a lot of trick-or-treaters and I already bought three bags of candy."

"Didn't you show up to Ni's basically in lingerie last year? I'm pretty sure I watched you destroy an entire tray of orange Jell-O shots."

Y/N scoffs, but she knows he's right — her tongue was orange for two days afterwards.

"I was dressed as a bunny," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. He's turning onto her street as she strokes her fingertips over the crease of her small baby bump, an involuntary habit she picked up as soon as she started showing.

"How about this," Harry pulls up outside of her house and she resists the urge to roll her eyes again, "We'll give out candy for a few hours and then we'll head to Niall's after. That way, we both do what we wanna do and we celebrate our last kid-less Halloween."

She's not sure why he's so insistent that they spend it together — up until now, neither of them have ever cared for the other — but if that's the best solution they can come up with and it shuts Harry up, it'll suffice.

"Fine. But if you drink even a sip of alcohol, I'm taking an Uber home."

. . .

Y/N feels ridiculous.

Ever since she developed a bump, she's had an increasingly tough time finding clothes to wear. Her self-esteem lowers ever so slightly every time she goes to pull on a pair of pants and they don't button, and it often annoys her when people stare at her stomach through a tee-shirt or sweater when she's just out trying to run errands. Being pregnant is so public and she's sure that her discomfort is constantly apparent — especially as she stares at herself in the mirror, a red top just fitting around her bump and a pair of devil horns tucked into her hair. 

She glances down at her phone on the bathroom counter, the screen lighting up with a text from Harry that says here. She sighs and shuffles out of the room, flicking the light off before shimmying a pair of pajama shorts up and over her lower half. She hasn't even attempted to find comfortable pants to wear this evening, and now that Harry's seen her sprawled out on a medical table at the gynecologist... well, it's fair to say that she cares just a little bit less when he thinks.

When she opens the door, he's standing on her doorstep, torso bare except for a fringe vest and a cowboy hat on his head. It's actually so ridiculous — her hormones are raging and she swears she's never been so attracted to someone before, but she wants to crumble into tears at how hot he looks and how awful she feels about her own appearance.

"You can't wear that to hand candy out to kids." is her only response as she turns on her heel, leaving the door open for Harry to let himself in. She hears his footsteps behind her and she plops down on the couch, cradling her belly as she lays back. 

"You look cute," Harry grins, pointing to the devil headband atop of her head, "I hope you're not planning on birthing the antichrist, though."

She rolls her eyes and watches as he grabs a Reese's from the top of the candy bowl. She wants to smack his hand away, but she doesn't have the energy to get up and scold him. 

"You don't have to lie about it, I hate this stupid outfit. Everything's too tight on me and I hate showing my bump. And I can't even look sexy for a Halloween party 'cos it's weird for a pregnant woman to show up half-naked."

Harry chuckles as he sits down next to her, "I'm not lying. I'm sorry you're feeling uncomfortable, though. Why don't we go get some maternity clothes for you this week?"

She shrugs, even though her heart warms a bit at the suggestion. She'd already been planning on doing that, and she thinks that it's sweet that Harry offers to accompany her.

"Aren't you cold in that?" Y/N asks, a frown on her face as she nudges her chin in the direction of his torso. 

"Eh. Not too bad."

"I think you just like showing off. Probably wanna seduce all the moms in the neighborhood."

He laughs, "Why would I wanna do that when I have the hottest MILF to-be with me?"

"Shut up," she grumbles, though she feels her face warm at his teasing, "You're so lucky you don't have to carry this stupid little thing."

"Don't call our baby a stupid little thing," he immediately scolds. "They're the size of a bell pepper this week. Did you know that?"

"Fine. You're so lucky you don't have to carry this stupid little bell pepper."

A cackle falls from his lips this time, shaking his head. "I am, and you know I'm eternally grateful that you're carrying them."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you grab me a Kit-Kat?"

As he rifles through the candy bowl, she grabs the TV remote to turn on a movie while they wait for the doorbell to ring. They sit there in silence, munching on the treats she bought for trick-or-treaters (Harry recalls her claiming that her neighborhood is a hot spot for them, though no one's rang the doorbell since he arrived) and watching Practical Magic on cable.

Y/N doesn't even realize how long they've been sitting there and soon enough, she's nodding off. Her head lulls to the side, the devil horns attached to her head accidentally poking Harry in the arm. He yelps in his typical whiney way and Y/N grumbles as she blinks her eyes open. When she realizes what he's complaining about, she pulls the headband out of her hair and tosses it on the coffee table.

"Sorry. Any trick-or-treaters come?"

"Mm, quite a few," Harry lies, knowing she'll be disappointed if she finds out there weren't any. He clears his throat as he watches her curl into the side of the couch, pulling a soft throw blankets over her body, "Actually, Y/N, do you mind if we skip Niall's? I'd feel bad if we left all those kids hanging."

In reality, it's nearing 10 pm, and there aren't any trick-or-treaters out anymore. Niall's party is probably in full swing at this point — but Harry's soft, and he's especially soft for Y/N, who's tired and snuggly and never wanted to go out to begin with. 

"That's fine," she murmurs, her voice already thick with sleep. He smiles to himself as she nuzzles into the pumpkin-shaped pillow on her couch, her eyes already falling shut again.

And he'll never admit to her, but if this is how he spends his last Halloween without a kid... well, he's not too mad about it.

[toomuchracket]

the birthday party

(yo. first fic! a lil friends to lovers for the "write what you want week" trope night, hosted by @imightgetbetter! probably too long, probably a bit shit, but we move. the pic of matty below is what he looks like in my mind for this fic lol. enjoy!)

your heels crack off the concrete ground like peals of thunder as you run up the steps at the train station. the restaurant is just up the street, the strings of fairy lights in its window an oasis in the darkness of the february evening. you pause for a beat, shifting the strap of your bag further onto your shoulder and tightening your grip around the bouquet of yellow and orange tulips in your left hand, then continue your sprint towards the twinkling windows.

a red light at a pedestrian crossing hinders you for a few aching minutes. you slip your phone from your coat pocket and scan the screen to pass the time. your friends have replied to the message you sent to the groupchat berating your delayed train; it's cool, don't worry, these things happen, we'll order you a drink for you getting here. after heart-reacting as many messages as your freezing fingers will allow, you send another. off train, will be there in 2 mins x

green again. still clutching both your phone and the flowers, you run the final stretch of pavement, slowing as you near your finish line. the birthday girl is waiting at the door of the restaurant, her bare arms folded against her sequinned chest. her lips arch into a smile as you approach, panting slightly, and she opens her arms for a hug. you manoeuvre into it as best you can with your own upper limbs preoccupied, and speak into her shoulder: "thank you for coming out to meet me. i'm so sorry i'm late." you pull away from her hold, offering her the flowers. "happy birthday, bitch."

birthday girl's smile grows even wider, radiant, genuinely touched. "thanks, angel, you really shouldn't have," she says, taking the bouquet from you and inhaling the scent. "and don't worry at all about being late - we're all just happy you could make it. some more than others, i think."

her smile shifts slightly with the last sentence, into something more... knowing. you raise an eyebrow. "what's your point, exactly?"

"oh, nothing," she shrugs. before you can protest, she smoothes a bit of hair on the side of your head and interlinks her arm with your own. "you look beautiful, by the way. let's head in."

you let her lead the way through the semi-crowded restaurant to the table of your friends. a cheer goes up as they spot you, which makes you blush. birthday girl's fiance stands up to hug you and take your coat. "we saved you a seat up the end there," he says, with a slight incline of his head to the other end of the long table.  "next to-"

matty.

you turn to the birthday girl, who simply smiles saccharinely at you, before she nudges you to the end of the table and a set of sparkly brown eyes. one of them closes in a wink as you approach, while the man they belong to slowly rises from his seat. your heart flutters involuntarily, and your greeting comes out as a whisper. "hiya."

"hi, darlin'," comes the reply, as he pulls you into a quick hug. you quickly inhale his scent, a strong mix of tobacco and aftershave, undercut with a hint of the weed he enjoys smoking so much; a scent so sorely him that even the slightest hint of it makes your knees tremble and heart race. here, now, breathing it in in its purest form, you think you might pass out if he wasn't holding you. "it's good to see you again. s'been too long."

"yeah," you inhale softly. you break the embrace, and trail your hands gently down to hold his own larger ones, calloused from years of guitar playing. he rubs his thumbs softly over the back of your hands as you take in his lithe, black-suited body and the mop of dark curls atop his (perfect) head. "you look lovely. really well."

matty's cheeks flush slightly, lifting into a smile uncharacteristically bashful for a rockstar of his calibre. "you flatter me too much, sweetheart. and you look beautiful."

you can feel your cheeks redden as you giggle awkwardly. "the birthday girl said the same thing."

"and for once in her life, she's right," matty replies, placing a hand on the small of your back - a gesture that makes your stomach muscles twitch into tension - and guiding you into the seat next to his. he keeps one of his hands on yours, though, even as you both sit down. "not like the time she got really into french new wave shit and tried to convince us all that cycling across paris on a saturday in july was a good idea."

the memory makes you chuckle. "no, the two of us were right that day. find a quiet restaurant, sit outside drinking for five straight hours, and laugh when everyone else shows up grumpy and sore."

"that was my favourite day of the whole holiday," matty says, almost dreamily, resting his elbow on the table and his face on his hand. "you and i weren't close until then, not really. was nice to just sit and open up to each other. i love doing that with you."

"i know exactly what you mean," you reply, glowing at his words. "getting little glimpses into your brain is my favourite thing."

matty's face changes slightly as you finish talking, the expression something you can't quite describe. the air in the room feels heavier now, as if your honest words are lingering and weighing it down; you try to blow them away by continuing to speak. "and that wine we had was fucking wonderful, too!"

the brown eyes fixed on your own restart their twinkling, as matty slides a stemless glass of burgundy liquid to you. it's identical to the one in front of him, albeit fuller. "speaking of..."

you gasp. "no fucking way."

matty winks at you, smirking - a deadly combination to your heart - clearly proud of himself. as he clinks his glass against yours in a silent cheers, though, his bravado disappears, replaced by something almost resembling tenderness. "i remember you saying it was the best drink you'd ever had. every wine list i read, i look for it. here's the first place outside of paris that they've actually had it."

jesus.

you take a sip of the wine first, to taste, then go back in for a longer drink. it's good, better than you remember, so good that your eyes close involuntarily in pleasure as the fruity smoothness makes its way further down your body, leaving a trail of warmth behind. when you reopen them, matty is still looking at you softly, pretty lips curved into a slight smile. it's the most tender moment you've experienced in a long time, and you don't want to ruin it by talking.

instead, you put down your glass and shuffle your chair as close as you can to his, pointedly ignoring the shiver that dances across your skin as your thigh meets his own, and pull him into another hug. this one is longer, slower, closer - your arms rest on his shoulders, his settle around your waist. with your face in such close proximity to his neck, his scent - already ruinous to you - is inescapable; it consumes you, fills your airwaves and clouds your brain until all you can think is matty, matty, matty. before you lose all sense of coherent thought to him, you murmur a "thank you" into his shoulder, and you swear his arms tighten slightly around you. you stay entwined for a bit longer, neither of you willing to be the one to break the hold. it's only when you hear an "oi! lovebirds! can we order now, please?" from further down the table that you both reluctantly pull apart, smiling sweetly at each other.

the dinner passes without incident, aside from the birthday girl breaking a lightbulb as she over-enthusiastically opens a bottle of champagne. you talk to matty, about his music and your writing and your families and new hobbies and the shit tv you've been watching, and also to the rest of your friends. it's a lovely night, so lovely that nobody really wants to go home after the plates have been cleared and the bill has been paid - when someone suggests continuing the evening in a bar down the street, the response is a unanimous "yes".

so you go, you continue your conversations and your drinking, although the bar doesn't have the french wine you and matty drank a bottle of together earlier, much to your disappointment. you even dance, with your girls, to the overly-bass-heavy songs blasting through speakers hidden everywhere in the dimly lit room. it's fun, absolutely, but you find yourself distracted, eyes constantly flicking to matty. he's so beautiful, standing at the bar laughing with the boys and absent-mindedly toying with his hair, that it makes your heart ache. when he pulls a lighter out of his pocket and makes a beeline for the back door, you're compelled by some supernatural force to follow him, shouting excuses about wanting fresh air across the music to your friends.

a quiet curse leaves your lips as you step coatless into the crisp winter night. at the noise, matty looks up from his phone with a furrowed brow, cigarette between his lips. when he sees it's you walking towards him, he takes the cig between his fingers and exhales the smoke far more attractively than should be allowed. "y'alright, darlin'?"

"mm-hmm," you reply, leaning opposite him against the wall. "just needed some air, is all. but i'll gladly bum a cig off you, if you're offering."

matty rolls his eyes. "not this shit again, sweetheart. s'not good for you. i don't want you adopting my bad habits, do i?"

you pout sweetly and bat your lashes. "please? just one?"

matty looks at you for a second, taking a long drag of the cig as if to taunt you, before he sighs. "listen," he starts. "if you're that desperate for a nicotine hit, i'll shotgun you. just this once, yeah? don't need you ruining your pretty lungs with these things."

"deal."

matty sighs again, but takes another long drag and leans down to your level, placing his hands on the wall beside your head. "open up, then."

ignoring the way your stomach jumps at his command, you part your lips as he exhales, taking all the smoke leaving his mouth into your own. neither of you move once it's done, though; you still lean casually against the brick wall, flanked by matty's hands, both of you breathing heavily, lips mere inches apart. matty's gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes, and then it happens.

you're kissing.

it starts sweetly, lips on lips and nothing more, but the wine from earlier emboldens you - daringly, you swipe the tip of your tongue oh so gently over matty's bottom lip. his breath hitches, and something within him just shifts. the cigarette is flung to the ground, forgotten, and his hands come up to hold your jaw as his tongue finds its way into your mouth. as you continue to make out, your hands clutch at the lapels of his suit jacket - whether to hold yourself upright or just to keep him close to you, you have no idea. all you know is that you're finally kissing matty, and you don't want it to stop.

eventually, though, the human requirement for oxygen means that it must. it's matty who pulls away from you first, although he looks physically pained to be doing so. his hands remain on your jaw, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he breathes heavily, adoration in those sparkling brown eyes of his. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that," he pants, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "fucking hell, sweetheart."

panting just as much as matty, you smooth down his lapels and smile sweetly at him. "well, for me, it's been... wait, how many years has it been since we first drank that wine in paris?"

matty's eyes widen slightly. he giggles - the sweetest sound you think you've ever heard - and pulls you in for another kiss; still as passionate, but more tender than the first, with an underlying gravitas that makes your heart feel funny. this time, when he pulls away, he looks... nervous. "look, this might be too forward, and you can absolutely say no and it'll be fine. but i wanna ask you" he begins, his hands trailing down your sides and coming to rest on your hips, eyes boring into your own. "would you like to come home with me tonight? i would love it if you do."

you've never been more sure of an affirmative decision in your life.

[delta-pavonis]

Fic: Making the Cut

Dreamling (Hob Gadling/Dream of the Endless) || Rated T || 1k words || complete Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, modern dancing, jealous Dream is best Dream, gratuitous use of Renaissance instruments, might be crack?

Jealousy, for it could only be that, made every muscle in Dream’s Waking body tighten, to the point that he was glad he had the wherewithal to vanish his wineglass before it was crushed to dust in his hand. Lex said something and Hob threw his head back in laughter. As he did so her fingers tangled in the hair at Hob’s nape, pulling strands from his ponytail, and Dream was on his feet and moving forward before he could think better of it.

Because the GIFs in THIS POST have taken over my brain and I was not be able to get any work done until I silenced the voices. Be the Dreamling you want to see in the world.

Fic under the cut. Reblog and tag if you think I should continue. 😜

It took nigh on forty years, the establishment of a trust to fund the project, and an absurd amount of money (mostly paying lawyers), but Hob Gadling had won the rights to restore the White Horse Inn. 

Well, actually, according to the paperwork, Rudolf Gass, grandson of British ex-pat Robert Daglin through his marriage to a German painter named Rosemarie Krause, whose daughter married the glazier Albrecht Gass, now had the rights to restore the White Horse Inn. Dream hadn’t followed the details further than that. 

But, given that it was the White Horse, and all the sentimentality it held for them, Hob had been absolutely adamant that Dream should make an appearance at the party he was holding at the New Inn in celebration. 

And if Dream had been subtly nudging the dreams of some elected officials and government officers over the past seven years since his return from captivity, well, that could be a secret kept between him and the White Horse herself. That the paperwork went through on the 7th of June was merely a coincidence of cosmic proportions. 

Clearly.

Dream hid his private smirk behind a sip of red wine.

The New Inn was alive with revelers, many of them historians and academics, and Dream supposed he should have not been surprised at their propensity for theatrics. A musician with a deep knowledge of Renaissance musical instruments was currently rapidly plucking away at a cittern with the thumping bass of lyricless electronic music coming from the speaker behind him. Another had rushed out of the bar to her bicycle to head back to her office to grab her crumhorn. Hob seemed delighted and that was what mattered.

Other than the barstools, one of which Dream was perched on right now, any of the furniture that was not nailed down had been shoved aside to make a small dancefloor. Hob had barely spent more than a handful of minutes off of it since sundown. 

Said victorious professor tumbled out of the crowd and caught himself on the bar right in front of Dream. Panting, sweating, and glowing with happiness, he signaled the bartender for a pint and moved to retie his hair back from where it had fallen out of the tail at his nape. He canted his hip into the side of the bar to hold himself upright. Hob’s eyes were full of bright mischief as he looked to his longest-held friend and took a swig of ale. “My friend, are you sure I cannot entice you to-”

“Come on Rudi! This is our song!” A tall, slim woman with graying black hair bouncing around her shoulders in locs grabbed Hob’s arm and tugged him back into the fray just as a different song started blaring from the speakers. Her smile was wide and welcoming and she had a startling resemblance to Dream’s older sister, if much more lithe of form. She was sleek as an otter with a glint in her eye twice as clever. She dreamed of writing historical fiction and running long distances and cups of tea on the sun porch with her enormous fluffy orange tabby.

“We don’t have a song, Lex!” Hob just barely got the half-full pint back onto the bartop, laughing as he let himself be pulled away, looking apologetically over his shoulder at his friend left on the barstool. 

They didn’t enter the crowd fully, just joined the edge of the amoeba of humans, which meant that, for the first time that evening, Dream got to see all of Hob dancing instead of just his head and shoulders. 

The pair started with the choreographed moves of a courtly bassadanza, which did not work at all without a large group of others dancing with them, and so, with a trip and a laugh, Lex threw her arms over Hob’s shoulders and pulled their bodies together. It seemed reflex had Hob’s hands on her waist, put a slight bend in his knee, so that he could slide a knee between her thighs and then their pelvises were rocking close together.

Jealousy, for it could only be that, made every muscle in Dream’s Waking body tighten, to the point that he was glad he had the wherewithal to vanish his wineglass before it was crushed to dust in his hand. Lex said something and Hob threw his head back in laughter. As he did so her fingers tangled in the hair at Hob’s nape, pulling strands from his ponytail, and Dream was on his feet and moving forward before he could think better of it.

As he approached his coat dissolved into shadow, leaving him in a tight black t-shirt, tight black jeans, and black boots. Dream tapped Hob on the shoulder, but his gaze was fixed on the woman. “May I cut in?”

It was probably unfair to color his voice with Endless power, with seductive tones inviting complete acquiescence, but, as Hob would say in the current turn of phrase, Dream had no fucks left to give.

Both pairs of dark eyes widened, both turned to Dream as they stepped apart, but only Lex smiled. “Why certainly.” She made a motion to put a hand on Dream’s bicep, but with all the grace of ten billion years he sidestepped in front of her and looped his arms around Hob’s shoulders. 

Their bodies were inches from being flush and Hob’s mouth fell open. He looked down to the scant space between them, then back up. “Dream… what…” A blush was blooming on his cheeks.

“I find that I am loathe to see you with another pressed so close.” Dream spoke in his normal Waking tones, just loud enough for Hob to hear, and arched his hips forward to brush against Hob. The gasp it elicited was delicious nectar, sticky on Dream’s tongue. “It seems that you have indeed enticed me, Hob.” They were near enough that he got to see Hob’s pupils dilate, the rich, welcoming earth of his eyes all but consumed by inky blackness. 

Dream was often himself inky blackness.

He would consume the rest of Hob as well.

[zin-fan-del]

Orange Inflation Afterparty

2,500 word story written over the course of a day. Features two men startled by an expansive beginning to their lazy morning after a huge house party.

“Hey, dude,” I nudged the husky boy asleep on my couch. He tossed and turned as my prodding continued throughout the minute, lulled into drowsiness by its gentle suede texture. I sighed, pulling myself back to admire the snoring slob: his short but stocky frame curled admirably into the loveseat, strange wine stains dribbled down the white wife-beater stretched across his chest and tucked into red track pants. Still seemingly asleep, he lifted his shirt with a slow hand and scratched at his happy trail. My eyebrows raised.

“Yo, Austin.” I pressed harder against his arm, and the thick eyelashes hooded by dark furrowed brows parted lightly. “Oh, shit, man. It’s even worse.” “What’s worse?” His hoarse, deep voice creaked out as the man gradually climbed out of slumber. His body jolted before he erupted into a belch loud enough I was forced to wait for it to end. After he recovered with a deep breath, I launched into my explanation:

“There’s some stuff spreading on your face.” It was succinct but accurate; the sweaty athlete hunkered down on this chair in the middle of the sofa and went basically comatose. I could smell alcohol on his breath as the burp pervaded my general area, which explained his roaring gut—but orange…?

“Stuff? The fuck?” Austin, ever the wordsmith, quickly leapt into action with a curious arm, shuffling his digits all over that sleepy freckled visage. “I don’t feel anything. But man, what a party, right?” Beneath the discoloration, I could tell that my eyes burning holes in our star player brought a lively rosiness to his slender pale face. Between burps, he tried to give me a reassuring grin.

My brows furrowed as I watched him sit up, dipping his face down as he pulled his center of mass upward. When he raised it, I gasped: his entire head was bright orange, minus the worried hazel eyes that darted about and those pearly whites. “You look like… well, like an orange?!” My arms crossed and my mouth fell open as I guffawed at the deeply discolored athlete surveying his body on my couch. By now, whatever this effect was had slid down his thick trunk enough to be noticeable even by him.

“What in the hell…?” His muscular arms stuck out as he watched the hue spread down them as though someone had taken an airbrush to his skin. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow as his breath began to quicken and the rumbling of his belly churned even louder. The confident smile on his face mutated into a surprised, inquisitive glare as every last inch of his skin was doused in what looked like beaming neon orange paint.

It would seem that things were at a head to the two of them: this transformation alone was bizarre enough to be simply inexplicable. How did this man, who has been sleeping for hours, just get turned into a walking orange highlighter? If it wasn’t for the clothes wrapped around his nearly fluorescent body, the beaming glow amplified the luster of his rough skin. I was pinned to the spot, admiring this abnormality as he lifted up his arm and took a heavy whiff of the hair in his armpit. At first, he pulled back as though reacting to the pungent body odor he expected; but he froze, lulled into a sense of curiosity, and went back to sniffing himself.

“This is insane, man. What just happened?” I asked him, finally composed enough to assemble a functional question.

“I smell so fucking good,” he muttered. “Good God,” he reclined into the cushion and closed his eyes, ignoring my inquiry outright. He puffed out his gut with a heavy breath in, his hands sliding down the front of his torso to gently dig his fingers in his abdomen. Austin’s pot belly was the talk of the fraternity after he ballooned up 50 pounds in weight within a year, fattening himself up with an insane diet that expanded him seemingly faster than pregnancy could have. He would slim down considerably as years passed, but beneath the wrinkles of his sleeveless shirt I could spot the plump paunch that time left behind.

“Are you… are you okay?” I began to wonder what merit these questions of mine even held at this point, since he seemed preoccupied by moaning and groaning. “You’re not in pain, are you?” I stepped towards the human nightlight, concerned his writhing was out of pain.

“M-Mitch,” he gasped between breaths and deep belches. “I’m gonna pop… H-help…” From that belly beneath the off-white tank, sounds of gurgling as vicious as boiling water erupted.

“Pop?! What, what, are you horny or--?!” My question would get answered not with words but with yet another astonishing sight. At first, I thought Austin’s heavy breaths were causing his body to expand with air. But as he rumbled away, moaning uncontrollably, he seemed to fatten up at an insane rate. What remained of his Adonis belt melted as every last pound he lost over the years were immediately reverted.

Austin must have been stunned speechless, because the only thing coming out of his mouth was dribble seeping from the corners of his pursed lips. He ballooned up as though someone shoved an air compressor up his rear and cranked it up without warning: the little belly Mitch noticed before swelled round and tight, pushing out over the lap between his spread legs. The front of his shirt was pulled out from under his sweatpants, unable to remain tucked as the hunky man’s gut filled it out in seconds. The deep voice he spoke with seemed to quiet as his cheeks filled up, puckering his bright red lips and forcing his pitiful moans up an octave.

Mitch could only watch in shock as his friend’s dramatic growth spiraled out of control. It appeared as though his belly was growing into a nice, fat orange all on its own up until the expansion began to spread. Whatever was pumping him up seemed to have no intention of letting up anytime soon and this world-record-sized ball gut surely couldn’t fit much more in it? Austin groped at it with his hands vigorously, pressing against himself to try and empty his growing body before he loses all control.

He felt a heavy surge of liquid fill his bottom and stretched his neck out to confirm it by sight. His thin but nimble legs had puffed up into ridiculous water balloons in his pants, stretching the seams of his pants to their limits. The bubbling had spread throughout him wherever he seemed to swell; as his wide breasts fattened like beach balls, his head sunk behind them and his moaning drowned in the orchestra of noises his huge body was letting off. Periodically, gas would release from either end of the humongous boy’s body at a rapturous volume but the pressure filling him tight refused to ease whatsoever.

I watched him widen, his wide butt ballooning up enough to spill out from behind his thick legs. Any slack in those track pants had stretched out to its limit, struggling to contain the burgeoning fat within. Before my very eyes, his expanding body transformed like a balloon animal, filling up with girth enough to shove his limbs out. Austin grumbled and groaned as he strained against his own frame, appearing to be drowning in the expanding pool of weight centered around his waist.

His groin lifted his belly up like an auto lift as it grew, twisting the seams of his pants and fully pulling his stained tank out from under their waistband. His furry gut bulged out from beneath his shirt enough to reveal a dense happy trail leading up to his belly button. Surely, his weight had doubled in an instant. The growth appeared to crawl to a stop, leaving the quarter-ton balloon pinned to the couch in a resigned starfish pose.

I strained my ears as the vicious roiling subsided somewhat, having stepped forward and placed the side of my head against his swollen paunch. Were it not for the rough touch of his skin, which sent shivers up his spine when pressed into, there could have been a weather balloon puffed up under that raggedy top or some other exaggerated inflatable costume. He even sounded like a water balloon, the surge of growth from earlier having quieted into a gentle glug, glug, glug…

That explains the ripe orange smell tickling my nostrils, and the syrupy citrus flavor his skin imparted on my curious tongue. The pool of liquid building up beneath him, the bright blotchy stains around his nipples and groin, the relentless bubbling and gurgling… it suddenly all made sense. But, this has to be a dream, Mitch rubbed his own belly, concerned that the effect might be contagious only after tasting his friend’s engorged belly. He could see the orange stain left behind on his tongue but otherwise felt normal; what did Austin do to turn into a fat piece of fruit all of a sudden?

As that thought crossed my mind, I realized that my focus had been lost. Somehow, in the instant I looked away, the rapid expansion that seemed to have been quelled resumed in full force. If there was a hose up the vivid athlete’s rear as Mitch once hypothesized, whoever was its cruel master dialed its pump up to the max. With a troubled yell, muffled by the juice filling his face, Austin’s growth exploded in rate. The boy rocked back and forth as his ass, swelling with the rest of his waist, raised him out of the relaxed pose he assumed on the couch. Buuuuurp! With a splatter of juice raining over his breast down upon my head, the overblown blob of a man belched, likely in response to the rumbling of gas bubbles rising within his distended stomach.

I barely recognized Austin in the mass that bellowed like a fluorescent hot-air balloon. I could see the top of his freshly-shaven head, the floral tattoo running down his right arm, the clothes he’s been wearing all night. But this was barely a human any longer: his skin stretched beyond its natural limits to contain the juice being crammed into it. The lower half of his body grew from a bloated pear-like shape into that of a teardrop as his midsection ballooned out around his waist and sucked in the thick legs beneath it. His socked feet, dirtied by an evening of partying, pressed tight against the flesh that swallowed them up. The overblown remnants of his legs shoved were apart by the mass expanding between them and filled with enough juice to bring them flush with the curvature of his fat waist.

“No, no!” I could barely recognize the words beneath the goop sealing his trap. Austin’s growth refused to slow as his chest similarly forced his arms out to the side and swallowed them up. Slap, slap. His bare hands struck what little they could reach, immobilized and enveloped in big fat arms fit for a nice, round orange.

“What the fuck,” was all I could say as I scanned the human blimp. Just moments ago, I expected the nimble athlete to slink off the couch and crack open a beer like usual. In fact, I came here to ask if he wanted my lunch leftovers, since he slept uninterrupted straight through midday. “Um.” Needless to say, I was shocked into speechlessness throughout almost the entirety of Austin’s sudden inflation. But surveying his new plump body was exhilarating both to the eyes and to my curious digits.

At the base of his shirt and near the fattest area of his waist, the seams of his clothes lost their valiant weight against his girth. But shockingly, the orange was still wrapped in clearly undersized apparel where it counted: juice spurted from his wide nipples gently, the fountains of liquid pushing through the cotton tank squeezing into his torso. The imprint of a penis sprayed it to the side as though his polyester track pants were hardly present, right where it should be at the base of his groin. Wordlessly, I sated my curiosity by pressing my upper body into the blimp, marveling at its immense heft and soft texture.

“Mmmph!” Austin’s eyes rolled as he moaned, the streams surging from his round frame intensified only slightly by my prodding.

“Shit, Jesus, man,” I stumbled back, winded. “You’re gonna fucking blow.”

The boy before me clocked in at least several tons. The couch beneath him began to fold as juice pumped him ever fuller with each passing second. Despite having fattened into a nearly perfect sphere, his extremities only sunk deeper into the hyperventilating athlete’s zeppelin of a belly. The flapping of his hands and feet grew even more rapid until he was too plump to even be mistakable for a living being any further.

Ten feet, I guessed he must have grown to in both height and width. Folds formed where his arms and legs ballooned up around smothered hands and feet. His face pointed straight up at the ceiling yet his yellow eyes still darted from point to point as though searching for help. I could hear his periodic cries for help beneath the surging, bubbling, straining orchestra unleashed by his impossible growth. Juice gushed from every orifice on his body, dribbling on the furniture and floor messily beneath him.

Boom. Preemptively, I must have plugged my ears and forced my eyes shut, because the earth-shattering bang I was expecting sounded like a distant sound effect. A tsunami of warm liquid showered over me in an instant, forcing me to hold my breath in the heavy deluge for several seconds. But as the dripping of drops transitioned from intense rainfall into a gentle shower, I creaked one eye open toward the scraps of the man once known as--

Austin? My eye took some time to adjust to the brand new paint job the late athlete provided us with during his explosive end. At least, during what I assumed was an explosive end, prior to finally focusing on the camouflaged orange figure lackadaisically louging on a sofa stained the same color as him. Instead of anguish, his flushed face sported closed eyes and a hearty smile, alongside a militia of sweat drops. He, too, opened an eye and spent a moment getting his bearings on the situation; his belly rose and fell with heavy breaths and the arms and legs I watched rise like dough in an oven had reverted to their slender forms.

“Guh…” I guffawed eloquently at my slim friend, whose fate I feared was sealed by his own unending girth.

“G-gotcha.” Austin’s shit-eating grin grew wider.

[divine-knight-hand]

Imagine Looking for Wanda at a Halloween Party

Wanda Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3 Halloween Triple Feature 2023 Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Content Warnings: Some confrontational situations and traces of angst. After that, fluffiness all the way!

Word Count: 2,874

Dividers by @chaosofevil

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our friend, the... pumpkin?" Tony raised a curious eyebrow at my choice of costume.

I wore a round and wide orange top with orange pants and black boots. My cheeks and nose were painted with an orange blush, and a green felt stem sat atop my head with the help of an equally green headband.

"Couldn't even spring for a Jack-o-lantern?” Tony fought off a smile. “You're just a pumpkin?"

"What?" I rolled my eyes. "I had to embrace my inner... pumpkin. Look, at least I didn't show up as myself." I motioned toward Tony's suit.

He came to his own Halloween party as Iron Man. How original.

This year, Tony was holding a Halloween party in the lobby of the tower. Everyone showed up in costume for the festivities. There was fun dance music playing, and spooky decorations all around the room. I wondered how Pepper and Tony managed to fill the room with streamers, cobwebs, plastic spiders, and other seasonal elements overnight.

"Hey, kiddo!" Natasha approached us, waving four of her arms.

She wore a black suit with a red hourglass symbol on her chest. Each side of her suit had four arms hanging off of it, which dramatically swayed with every move she made.

I tried, and failed, to figure out which of her eight arms were real. "Hey, Nat! You're a black widow? That's clever."

"Oh, so it's okay if she comes as herself?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"You're wearing uniform." I retorted. "She's wearing a pun."

Tony playfully scoffed and waved his hand. “Fine. Be that way.”

"By the way,” I changed the topic of conversation. “Have you guys seen Wanda? Did she show, yet?"

"No, I haven't seen your girlfriend." Tony grabbed a glass of champagne off of a butler’s tray as they walked by.

"Me neither." Natasha added. “Sorry, kiddo.”

"Oh, ok." I sighed before Tony’s comment registered to me. "Wait- She's not my girlfriend!" I felt warmth creep into my face. "She's just my best friend."

"That's how it starts." Tony winked as he took a sip of his drink. "That's how it always starts."

I playfully smacked his shoulder, shaking off the resulting pain after the audible contact I made with his suit. "All right, Stark. I'm going to look for her."

“Good luck!” Natasha nodded in my direction. “I’m sure she’ll turn up.”

“Thanks.” I flashed her a small smile before turning to walk away.

"Enjoy the party!" Tony called after me. "And make sure to drink some punch. It's good punch!"

I rolled my eyes, positive that the “punch” had traces of alcohol, but went to the snack table to pour myself some anyway. The glass bowl on the table was full of blood-red liquid, and I used the ladle inside to pour some into a red plastic cup. Once I was satisfied, I stepped to the side, walking right into a large figure next to me.

"Oh! Sorry." I turned to see Thor.

He was a very buff Pop-Tart, though the muscles were courtesy of his physique, rather than the costume shop.

"Hey, Thor!” I softly chuckled at the comical sight in front of me. “I love your costume."

"Thank you!" Thor grinned. "You look wonderful, as well. It would seem we both arrived as our favorite foods."

"Yeah, I guess we did.” I returned his smile showing less teeth. “Hey, have you seen Wanda anywhere?"

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen her." Thor frowned. "Have you tried asking Stark?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "Well, thanks anyway, Thor. Enjoy the party."

"You too!" Thor waved before I walked away, sipping on my definitely alcoholic punch.

I dodged dancers, sidestepped those in conversation, and passed groups of people that overall made me wonder how many of Tony’s friends were real, and how many only showed up to the party in search of some of his wealth and fame.

It was then that I found Clint talking to Bruce on the other side of the room. Clint had come dressed as a vampire, while Bruce was decorated in a skeleton costume.

I approached them with a smile. "Hey, guys! How are you?"

"Hi!" Bruce made a small wave at me. "We're doing fine."

"Yeah," Clint added. "We were just wondering how many friends Tony has here. Real friends, not associates or sponsors or random rich people."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "I was just thinking that, too!"

Bruce sheepishly smiled. "I guess great minds think alike."

"I hate to cut our meet-up short," I went on, "But, have either of you seen Wanda?"

Clint thought for a moment. "I thought I saw her on the other side of the room." He motioned across the room with one hand.

"Yeah," Bruce added. "She was talking to Thor's brother, wasn't she?"

"Ugh." I would have facepalmed had I not been worried about messing up my makeup. "Why the hell would Tony invite Loki?"

"Sour much?" Clint smirked at my resulting scowl. "He's here by Thor's request, and on the promise to not cause any mischief."

“As if he would actually hold to that standard. ” I rolled my eyes. "Do you think she's still over there?"

Clint shrugged. "Not sure."

"I hope you find her." Bruce bashfully scratched the back of his neck.

"Thanks." I started to walk away. "You guys enjoy the party."

I took a deep breath before heading towards the one corner of the room I had yet to explore. The crowd noticeably thinned as I neared the wall.

"What vivid colors for a plain character such as yourself." I rolled my eyes as the familiar voice purred.

I turned to him, only to be met with a black, green, and gold Asgardian tunic, topped with a wicked smirk. So much for being subtle.

“Loki!” I forced a smile. "You came dressed as a witch. A little cliché of a costume, don't you think?"

Loki's cocky smirk dipped for an instant before lifting back up. "Not everyone has original ideas such as your seasonal gourd."

"Actually, a pumpkin is a fruit." I proudly grinned. "I'm sure an intelligent man such as yourself can tell the difference between a fruit and a gourd." I mentally high-fived myself for having researched random pumpkin facts last night to really get into character.

Loki scowled. "Of course I can tell the difference! You simply don't wear food items well. That’s all."

"And you don't wear anger very well, princess." I teased. "So, I heard you were talking to Wanda earlier. Is that right?"

"Yes," Loki's smirk returned, paired with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just as I've heard that you've been looking for her all night. Correct?"

"Well, yeah." A sour feeling settled into my stomach—the same one I usually got right before Loki would screw me over. "Can you point me in the direction she went?"

"Well, I could," Loki nonchalantly examined his perfectly manicured nails. "But I might not."

The frustration that had been building up inside me started to slowly seep out. "Loki, I swear-"

"Ah-ah-ah..." Loki held up his pointer finger to silence me. "You wouldn't want to make a scene at Stark's perfect party, would you?"

I stopped to think for a moment. Tony was an annoying person, but that annoying person also happened to be my friend, and I didn’t want to do anything to hurt him if I could help it.

I tried to quell the fire in my stomach. "I guess not."

Loki slowly approached me as his smirk widened into a sadistic grin. "I suppose I could point you in the direction of your lost friend... if you agreed to assist me with a small request."

"No." I scowled. "I'll just find her myself."

I turned to storm off when Loki grabbed my upper arm and spun me around, yanking me toward him. “Let’s not be too hasty, now, pet.”

“I’m not your pet.” I growled through clenched teeth. “Let. Me. Go. NOW!”

I grew a little embarrassed as a few partygoers turned to look at us, but I didn’t back down from my stance.

“What happened to not making a scene?” He muttered as he reluctantly released my arm.

“Trust me.” I started. "You’d know if I caused a scene. And, if you think, even for a second, that I'm going to let you use me for whatever trick or plot you want me to do, you’re sorely mistaken."

“Is that so?” Loki’s expression grew dark. “Then I suppose you care not to find your little friend.”

“You’re worse than useless!” I was practically bursting at the seams. “Nobody can stand you, you know that? Your games only ever hurt people. So, yeah, I’ll take the risk finding Wanda myself, since the last person who played into your tricks and mind games wound up dead.” I resisted the urge to clap a hand over my mouth. I definitely took that way too far…

Loki scowled, but his eyes were clearly filled with hurt. “You know not what you speak of, Midgardian."

"Just stay away from me." I turned to walk away.

I only made it a few paces before I heard Loki's voice call from behind me. "Your friend is outside. She left in need of fresh air after we exchanged words."

I turned back in time to see Loki's backside as he walked away. I debated just following his instructions to where Wanda was, but I knew I couldn’t after pressing his wounds like I did. Instead, I rushed after him.

"Loki?" I softly called when I finally caught up to him. When he didn’t respond, I tried calling louder. "Loki?"

"I can hear you, mortal." He faced me with a dark expression. "I just wish I couldn't."

“That's fair.” I sighed. “I just couldn’t leave without apologizing for disrespecting you. I really crossed a line back there. I’m sorry."

An expression of shock crossed Loki's face, followed by a flash of sadness, before he began to seem unbothered. "I… appreciate your apology. I suppose I should return the sentiment. Though I do tend to derive pleasure whenever your face makes that scrunched-up scowl as the result of your vexation, it may not be the most... ethical method of entertaining myself."

"And bringing out your baggage might not have been the best way to handle it." I held my hand out to him. "Truce?"

Loki skeptically raised an eyebrow at me before taking my hand in his. "Very well. No more… pranks... at least for the time being."

I smirked. "Watch it, Odinson. I might pump-kick your butt if you go back on our truce."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Oh, the puns from you, girl."

I laughed and started making my way toward the door. "Enjoy the party, Loki."

"You, as well." He called after me.

I began weaving through the crowd to get to the door. I finally made it and pushed the door open with a sudden urgency. I had a feeling that I needed to find Wanda as soon as possible.

There were more rich people outside who didn’t even bother dressing up for Tony’s Halloween party. As they let the outside air fill with their dry, ingenuine laughter, I pushed through crowds of them, earning myself dirty looks from people who had higher net worths than me.

But, that didn’t matter. I had to find Wanda.

”Wanda?!” I called, “Wanda?! Where are you?”

I shoved through more people in suits and costumes as I frantically scanned the area for red hair, ignoring the rude comments from people around me. As I made my way farther from the tower, the crowd began thinning.

Suddenly, a small voice called my name loud enough for me to just barely hear it.

I turned to the source of the sound to see Wanda, hiding away from the partygoers with an anxious expression. “Wanda!”

She wore a bright red bodysuit with a headdress and cape that sported similar crimson hues. I wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be dressed as, but she was gorgeous.

I noticed her visibly shaking as I ran up to her. “Wanda? What happened? Did Loki do something to you?” I already felt the urge to go back on our earlier truce creeping in. “Because, I swear, I’m gonna-”

”No!” Wanda cut off my threat, which was lucky for me, since I had no idea how to effectively threaten a literal demigod. “Loki did nothing wrong, I promise.”

My rage quickly shifted to guilt for getting so easily distracted. Focus on Wanda, damnit!

I placed my hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong, then? Are you alright?”

She sighed, looking at me with watery eyes. “I’m scared… I’m terrified.” She sniffled. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Wanda,” I frowned, trying not to picture the pathetic image of a ghoulish pumpkin trying to console a weeping… whatever Wanda was dressed as. “Whatever you’re afraid of, you can talk to me. I promise, I can help you get through it.”

Wanda sniffled again and ran a delicate gloved hand across her face to catch runaway tears. “It’s just… All night, I’ve been hiding. I’ve been… secretive. I want to tell the one person who should know, but I’m afraid.” She shuddered. “And I thought, If I never tell them, I’ll exist in this limbo forever. But if I do…”

“They might not respond in the way that you want?” I breathlessly asked. Wanda wordlessly nodded.

It was in that moment that I took her in with my eyes. She truly was gorgeous. Her wide brown eyes. Her soft pink lips. The way her headdress framed her round face. The way her costume conformed to the curves of her body. She was gorgeous.

I didn’t lie to Tony earlier. Wanda wasn’t my girlfriend…

…But it didn’t change the fact that I wished she was.

It was true that I was infatuated by Wanda’s beauty, but I was also in love with her mind and personality, so seeing her this upset crushed me.

”Wanda,” I breathed. “It hurts me to see you this way. There’s only one word of advice I can give you: Stay strong. No matter how it turns out, just tell them what you need to tell them. No matter what, I’ll be here for you. And if they’re a good person, they’ll be good to you, too.”

Wanda gulped, “I can’t do that…”

”Yes, you can.” I urged. “I know you can. You can do anything.”

Wanda sniffled. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

My blood ran cold. “I’m the person you’re trying to tell something to?” She wordlessly nodded once again. “Wanda,” I nervously chuckled. “You can tell me anything.”

She looked like she wanted to say what she was dying to say, but shook her head. “I’m not as brave as you.”

”Maybe I’m not brave, either.” I spoke without thinking. Wanda cocked her head in confusion and I just continued before I could hesitate. “You can’t idolize my bravery if I wasn’t brave enough to reveal my own secret to you.” I grabbed her hands and took a deep breath. “Wanda Maximoff…” There was an expectant glint of what seemed to be hope in her eyes when I paused. “I love you. I love you so much, and I-“

Before I could finish my declaration, Wanda cut me off with a kiss. She wrapped her arms around my neck and shoved her tongue in my mouth. I greedily took it in my own as I moved my hands along her waist to the small of her back, one hand reaching up to her hair. I dreamt about a moment like this for so long, and I wanted this to last forever, but Wanda and I eventually had to break for air.

We were both still gasping when Wanda breathed. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

I smirked and opened my arms. “Then come here and pump-kiss me again.” We both visibly cringed at my horrible pumpkin pun before bursting into laughter.

“That was really bad.” Wanda giggled.

“Well, there’s more where that came from.” I smirked. “You’re going to be hearing those for the rest of the night.”

Wanda warmly smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.” She wrapped her arm around my waist. “I can’t wait to party with my new gourd-friend.” She winked.

I laughed at her pun, too content to correct her with the fact that a pumpkin was a fruit, not a gourd. Speaking of corrections…

“Hey, Wanda,” I began. “Can I ask you a question?” She nodded. “What’s your costume?”

“Oh!” She seemed to come alive with a newfound excitement. “This old thing?” She let my waist go to twirl in a circle and toss her cape with a flourish. “I’m dressed as a Sokovian fortune teller!”

“I love it!” I grinned, holding my arm out to her. “So, what’s in store for me and my new lover?”

She giggled as she locked my arm in hers. “Our future is yet to be determined, detka, but it’s looking bright.”

She leaned in to give me a peck on the lips before we made our way back to the party.

[siremasterlawrence]

Surf’s up Dude

The legacy of a truly majestic and magical Royal Family of Hemsworth from a secret isle not to far from Australia are on vacation from their Royal duties on surfing away in to utter excitement.

Unfortunately for them a camera man is on the beach storm front chasing after them in a matter of seconds one by one they will fall under my spell for a lifetime waiting and see it will be fun.

My first victim Chris the crown prince official heir to the thrown with droids flying through the air the camera clicks on them I want from my cellphone using the keys to pilot it to the areas I have spotted him.

The android locks on to him with precision of laser focus a triggered is pulled shooting in to the sky the darts descending on to him hitting him hard as he breaks part losing it he spazzes.

His body falling completely straight ahead all the way face forward on to the ground of the beach awaiting for me to collect him and I glide to the end of the beach picking up his feet.

I begin dragging him in to the bushes the farthest reaches of one laying him in to the gravel I tap my high tech cell phone spinning the dials on my screen and I can see the dart going down .

The bloodstream is roaring red steaming up in to the nerves burning up like crack I can see the firing of multiple colors appear on my screens showcasing I am the one who is ruled by me.

Slapping the bitch hard the scan of his brain burns red, orange, yellow and green hinting at the fact that I have literally lit him up once more like a Christmas tree and tap behind his ear.

The dart exploding upon impact fusion to his bones, setting up every nerve, fiber and neuron to charging him up changing every which way to create a brand new slave in my image.

“Prince Chris!”

“Yes Master!”

“I need you to help me”

“As you please”

“Whatever you need “

“I submit to you and I will bring in both of my bros “

“Master Lawrence!”

“Here he comes in fact”

“Go get him Tiger “

“Hey Liam! “ Chris waves him down with a hot hand movement.

“I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Do you consider no one else is supposed to be here?”

“Whatever bro! Come here “

“Hey! Chris stop”

“Ssshhhh”

“This is Master”

“Lawrence “

“Sleep”

“Uuuuggghhhh!”

“What did you do to him?”

“The same thing I will do to you “

“Hey now! Wait a second”

“Boom!”

“Nice ass by the way”

“Dart activate”

“Code talent”

“I can see how hard you are “

“You are struggling “

“Fighting me so hard “

“Fool! Those days are over “

“The resistant”

“Never want to Prince”

“Fuck up!”

“Get harder “

“Give me a smile”

“Smirk”

“Rise up “

“Do a little dance “

“Party away “

“Luke over here “

“Luke help”

“HELP!”

“What’s up?”

“Are you ok?”

“It’s time to join us”

“Bois gather around”

“Teach him a lesson”

“Grab him”

“Pull him to the side”

“Strip him off”

“Give me the scissors”

“Dart”

“Tick”

“Tock”

“Boom”

“Prince Luke”

“I am your God now”

“Kneel before me”

“Yes Master”

“Grab my waist”

“Unzip me”

“Pull down my pants”

“Grab my cock and suck it off “

“Mmmmm”

“Master Lawrence”

“Drink it all up”

“Eat my cum”

“Consume every part of it “

“Free yourself! Forever! Be my slave and puppet.”

The end

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Bonus Bracket, Round 1

[image ID: the first image is a character sheet of Dynambi, a character with a big smile, sharp canines, blue hair and horns, wearing a brimmed hat, orange shirt, blue pants, and red and white shoes. they have no arms, instead their hands, fully white, are floating. their legs are also disconnected from their body. text next to their left reads, "Dynambi, they/them. a short tempered destruction entity created by EXPUNGED." below that is a nonbinary flag, an aroace flag, and the autism infinity symbol. below that a smaller drawing of just their head with the caption "front pov + hatless!" to their left is a color palette. the second image is of Krummhorn, a short, fat goblin with bright green skin and shoulder length black hair. he's wearing a purple doublet with hot pink stripes, a purple shirt, dark purple breeches, a purple hat with a gray feather in it, brown boots, a bandolier, and a rapier in his belt. he's carrying an instrument case. end ID]

Dynambi

by @sweetnpeachie I LOVE DYNAMBI!! they're really cool and have many fans including myself. so a little more known than some ocs but still they're based on sonic mostly, or rather as a character they grew to resemble sonic due to being a fan of him!! they also based themself after their creator/sibling which is really awesome :)

Krummhorn

by @officialjamesflint Krummhorn is the most legendary/notorious of my TTRPG characters and I need everyone to know about him and appreciate him. He's a goblin bard who's probably the most wild character I've ever played and I love him so much. He started adventuring because he met a celebrity and decided that they were soulmates and then went off on a quest to find his soulmate (so parasocial relationships taken to a deeply absurd level). Once that quest ended in despair (for Krummhorn), he became absolutely unhinged and lost all sense of danger. Currently he is a pirate with the rest of the party! Other important facts: -Plays the hurdy-gurdy -Has an ancestry trait that allows him to eat anything without being harmed and WILL use it (once he ate some food out of the garbage and got attacked by ants) -Canonically is always wearing a ladybug costume -Collects crossbows -Gay -Is named after a Renaissance instrument! I may be a music history nerd

[catmaidetho]

crow's danger days au design party

hi! to celebrate reaching 200 followers, i'm hosting a design party for my life series danger days au!

what's that mean? beneath the readmore on this post will be a set of written descriptions for the cast of the au. anyone who wants can then draw what they think those characters look like!

do i have to draw all of them? nope! only do the ones you want!

is there a time-limit on this? also no! whenever you've got the time to do it, go for it!

what even is danger days? IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED! danger days is the 4th (and final) studio album by american rock band my chemical romance! it was a concept album, which can be seen in the music videos for nanana and sing. there's also a tie-in comic book series, danger days california. so if you're struggling for inspiration, i suggest watching those music videos or taking a look at the aesthetic of the comic!

if you're participating, please @ me in your finished pieces! :D

characters

these are the main characters featured in my current wip---the extended cast (as well as some picrews/art i've done of some of them) are in this google drive here. go nuts!! :D

Etho (they/them) Etho is a tall, lanky androgyne, and the tallest in their crew. They have unnaturally white hair with dirty blond roots that they keep longer on the top and shaved close on the sides. Their eyes are an unsettlingly dark shade of brown, bordering on black. They wear a black tank top, dark gray camo-patterned cargo pants (the pockets are full of wires and plastic scrap), well-worn black combat boots, and a heavy green jacket that reaches their thighs. They also wear fingerless leather gloves, protective goggles, and a tool belt that their raygun and other extra tools hang from. They wear a black gas mask on the bottom half of their face nearly 24/7.

Small Beans (he/him) Small Beans is considerably shorter than Etho, and the shortest in his crew. He has half-brown, half-green hair that is unkempt at best and a rat's nest at worst. His eyes are a dull green. He wears a black bleach-dyed t-shirt, ill-fitting and ripped light-wash blue jeans, brown work boots with yellow laces, and a vibrant pink leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and a myriad of patches. He often steals Etho's leather gloves when they aren't looking, although does own a pair of their own fingerless gloves that have been painted with hand bones.

The Scar (he/him) The Scar is slightly shorter than Etho, and somehow manages to be quite buff. He has well-kept, short brown hair. His eyes are deep green. He has more scars on his skin than can be counted, mostly healed sunburns and raygun shots. Before he joined Etho's crew, he was often seen wearing burgundy slacks and a white, short-sleeved button up shirt. After joining Etho's crew, his outfit completely changed to a skin-tight, short-sleeve black shirt with a triangle cut-out on his chest, black leather pants, surprisingly well kept black boots with mismatched orange and teal laces, and a half-orange-half-teal windbreaker. He is the only member of the crew to never lose his sunglasses.

Pesky Bird (he/she) Pesky Bird is somewhat taller than Small Beans. He has a decently-kept mop of blond hair. Her eyes are rich, chocolate brown. He wears a white t-shirt, straight-fit blue jeans, boots that may have been black once but are heavily faded by the sun and wear, and a bright red leather motorcross jacket with a large patch on the back of parrot wings. She also has a matching biker helmet.

the extended cast can be found in this google drive!

[bulletproofbanditsorbust]

Bulletproof Bandits, chapter 3

Feb. 21st, 2023

Characters: oc!Russell Davon, oc!Dylan Harley

Word count: 2118

Warnings: Drinking; smoking weed; animal violence (even though- does it count if they are mutants? idk. i put it in just in case)

Summary: A week later, Russell presents himself at Dylan’s house to go to a bar to party. Then, they head to Liberty City together. Will their journey go as planned?

A/N: The story is really kicking up a notch now! Enjoy :)

“Dylan, do you know where Russell is?”

“Nope. He disappeared from my bed like a week ago.”

Dayana sighed. “Where did he go now…?”

“Relax, he’ll be fine. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.” Dylan hesitated. “Uh… well, most of the time.”

“It’s the ‘most of the time’ that concerns me! And he was badly injured, too!”

“He probably went home to rest. Stop worrying for nothing, mom.” Dylan tried to reassure her, but it had the reverse effect.

“Worry for nothing? I have a very good reason to be worried! He– Huh?”

The rumble of a motorcycle blasted through the windows.

“Russell!” Dylan ran outside.

“Hey, Dylan!” Called the redhead over the motor. “I’m headed to the Crimson Dragon! Wanna come?”

“Wait, what?” Dylan crossed his yard filled with junk to come closer to his friend.

Russell pulled the helmet off his head revealing a red raven’s nest. The orange sky was giving an amber tint to his danger-hungry eyes.

“I’m– no, we are going to the Crimson.” Russell repeated. “My treat! I’m rich now!” He laughed and gave Dylan a pat on the shoulder.

“Hell yeah, my dude!” The other exclaimed, giving the pat back. “Lemme get the bike.” He ran to the garage - a shack that was mostly rubble - and started his Wide Glide, which had flames painted all over.

“Where do you two think you’re going?!” Shouted Dylan’s mom over the motorcycles’ noise.

“I won’t come home for dinner, mom!” Her son responded, as he put on the helmet. “But I won’t be too late, I promise!”

“Please be careful!” Dayana recommended, as the two drove off to the sunset.

The Crimson Dragon Pub was one of the few bars that survived the aftermath of the power plant explosion. It was situated on the opposite side of Rhinestone City, so the two friends had a long ride ahead of them to get there.

When they arrived, a crowd was forming at the entrance.

Dylan and Russell looked around. “Oh look!” Dylan pointed at a poster. “Glam Division is playing tonight!”

“Glam Division?!” Russell’s eyes lit up. “Fuck, I love those guys! Let’s go in!”

A few minutes later, the two were inside the dimly lit pub. At the back of the main hall, there was a stage, where the band was playing eardrum-cracking music.

The singer - a lanky guy with long, dirty blond hair, a ragged t-shirt that said “FUCK YOU” on it written with a marker, studded belt, white leather pants, cowboy boots - was screaming the unintelligible lyrics of a punk-rock song in a raspy but powerful voice. Everyone was going crazy on their respective instrument.

Russell and Dylan sat at the counter. The bartender smiled when he noticed them.

“The usual for both, thanks Reggie!” Yelled Russell over the blaring guitars.

Moments later, Reggie came back to the boys with two glasses and one bottle of whiskey.

The redhead poured the amber liquid in both glasses.

He raised his goblet in mid air. “To… uhm…”

“...Our friendship?”

Russell nodded enthusiastically. “To our friendship!”

A clinging of glass and they took a swig together.

“Dude,” Russell swallowed quickly. “You’ll never guess what happened with Robin!”

“Did you two bang?” Presumed Dylan, while pouring another shot.

“Yeah…” His friend slightly inclined his head on the side and elongated the vocals of his word, grinning.

Dylan almost choked on the alcohol. He turned to look at Russell, with his eyes wide open. A large smile formed on his face. “You fucked that uptight bitch?! You fucking legend, you!” He gave his friend a high five, laughing. “How.. How was it?”

“Uh… weird, to put it mildly.” Russell informed, remembering his ruined orgasm. “I think she’s into some kinky shit. She called me a 'bitch boy!'”

“'Bitch boy'? Huh. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.”

“Yeah… But listen. I have to go to Liberty City next. You up?”

“Liberty City?” Dylan raised his thick, black eyebrows. “Isn’t it where everyone is filthy rich?”

The other nodded. “Exactly.”

“I dunno, man.” Dylan hesitated. “Are you sure we could make it in one piece? You barely did, last time you worked for her. She’s sending you to suicide missions all the time!”

“But I always come out of it alive, don't I?” Russell poured his third shot.

“I mean… Technically, yeah.”

“And it’s mostly thanks to you." Russell went closer to his friend and looked him in the eyes. "So, if we go there together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

A pause.

“Alright, you sold me.” Dylan took another gulp of whiskey. “Do you have a plan?”

“Do I look like a guy who has a plan? All I know is that there are two routes through the desert. One is safer, but takes longer, the other is faster, but more dangerous.”

“Classic. But I think it would be better to play it safe, for now.”

“Agreed. I don’t feel like fighting giant mutants at the moment...” Russell instinctively touched his stomach. "But let's not think about that, we’re here to party!"

"That's the spirit!" Their glasses clanged again.

Two days later, as the sky in Rhinestone City turned red, Russell was at Dylan’s house again.

He knocked. A few moments after, a girl in a floral dress answered the door.

“Hi, Russell!” She cheerfully greeted him.

“Hey, Percy!” He smiled back. “I came here to pick up Dylan. Where is he?” The boy looked over Percy’s shoulder.

“Oh, he’s in his room. Come in!” Dylan’s sister made way for Russell to enter. Despite Percy and Dylan being fraternal twins, they were almost identical. Same facial structure - kind of oblong, with high cheekbones -, same green eyes with golden streaks, same body type - tall and skinny -. The only things that differentiated them were the height - Percy was shorter than Dylan - and the skin tone - hers was slightly lighter than his -.

He thanked Percy as he entered. The boy quickly went upstairs, where you could hear punk rock blaring from the corridor. He walked in Dylan’s room.

His friend was sitting on his desk, drawing something while smoking a joint. The stench of marijuana was palpable.

“Hey–”

Dylan immediately closed his sketchbook and turned around. “Uh… Hi Russell. Whatcha doin’ here?”

"We're going to Liberty City, dude!”

The other took a drag out of his blunt. “So soon? You still need to heal!”

“I’m tired of waiting.”

Dylan shook his head. “Fine. But you won’t complain about it, okay?”

“Sure, whatever.” Russell let himself fall on the bed. “Can you share?” He nodded at the joint.

“I thought we were going to Liberty City.”

“Yeah, but I’d hate to waste some good weed, man!”

Dylan took one last puff and then handed it to Russell. “Careful. This one gets you high as fucking tits, dude!”

“Shouldn’t it be the point?”

“Hah. Guess you’re right.”

"I had another weird nightmare last night." Stated Russell, after a couple of drags.

"The one where you're in the lab?"

The other shook his head. "I was... I think in the middle of the street, a crowded street. And I killed everyone."

"Huh. Gnarly."

"Yeah. And you were there with me, but at the same time I'm not sure because the guy looked nothing like you, but you know how dreams are... He sounded like you, though. Anyway, I murdered a bunch of people and you looked at me and... Instead of running away, you walked towards me."

Dylan arched his eyebrows. "Really?"

"I ain't shitting you." Said Russell, staring at the joint. "You ran at me and I think I was ready to slice your throat, but before I could do that..." He looked at his friend. "You hugged me. Tight. And y'know... I felt good when I was killing but when you hugged me... It felt even better, like a warm sensation in my chest. Then I woke up."

"Huh... What do you think that means?"

The redhead shrugged. "That you are my friend, through thick and thin."

"Yeah, yeah..." Dylan nodded slowly. "I mean, no doubt about it." He smiled.

Russell's eyes lit up, grinning back. "Here, wanna finish it?" He gave the joint back to his friend.

Ten minutes later, the two friends were going downstairs.

“Russell! Russell!” A little boy ran through the small living room.

“Oh, Tommy! How’s it going, my lil’ guy?” Russell greeted him with a friendly tone.

“Russell! Where are you going, Russell?”

“I’m going on a mission!”

“Can I come? Pleeease?” Tommy pulled at the boy’s leather jacket.

Russell smiled, ruffling his curly, black hair. “Not until you grow big and strong, Tommy!”

Dylan’s brother pouted. “Aw, man… You never say yes!”

“That’s because it’s too dangerous for a little boy like you!”

“I’m not a little boy! I’m seven! I can shoot the bad guys just like you!” He then proceeded to imitate a gun with his hands. “Pew, pew!” 

“Sure, lil’ guy!” Russell giggled. “C’mon Dyl, let’s go.”

Russell and Dylan were riding their motorcycles through the desert.

“How long do you think it's gonna take to get there?” Asked Dylan, through the walkie-talkie that Russell gave him before heading off.

“I don’t know.” Responded his friend. “Could be an hour, could be three. I’ve never taken this route before.”

“Do you think there are mutants lurking about?”

“There shouldn’t be. It’s night, and this is supposed to be the safe zone. We'll be fine.”

“If you say so, cap’n– oh fuck…”

Dylan didn’t have the time to finish his sentence, when a few shadows took shape faraway.

“Do you see them too?” Russell wanted to know, a note of anxiety in his voice.

“Yeah. Seems like… jackals?”

“Let’s ignore them, maybe they didn’t see us.”

“Roger that.”

They sped up, passing the animals’ line of sight.

Dylan heard Russell curse in a panic through the two-way radio.

“What?! What’s happening?!” Dylan inquired. But then, he realized. “Oh no…”

Howls and barks were heard behind them.

“What should we do?!”

“Go past me! I’ll deal with them!” Russell ordered.

“But you have the package and you still have to recover from the wounds, you wouldn’t be able to hold a gun–”

“Run!!!”

With worry and heaviness in his heart, Dylan did what Russell said, and hit the gas.

Russell pulled out the gun from his leather jacket and took aim behind him. The dogs, thrice as big as regular ones, were terrifying-looking creatures with infected scabs all over their battered bodies, fangs to make sharks envious with foam at the mouth and glowing radioactive-green eyes.

With trembling fingers, the boy tried to shoot one of them, but the hit went just right above the beast’s head.

“Shit…”

He tried again, one, two, times. The last bullet exploded the jackal’s head.

Two more to go.

Russell reloaded as he regained his balance on the bike.

The mutated creatures were now running beside him, trying to bite his feet.

“Stay away from me!” He yelled, kicking one of them. The canine yelped and fell behind.

Russell glared at the last one standing. “Now it’s just you and me…”

Dylan was speeding through the highway, when a crackling noise came from the walkie-talkie.

“Russell?”

Silence.

“Russell!”

More crunching noises.

“Hey-hey, Dylan! How’s it going?” A familiar voice talked through the speaker.

“Fuck, dude!” Dylan let out a sigh of relief. “You got me worried!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine… Cut it close, though. My shoulder hurts like hell.”

Dylan sighed. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea…”

“What can I say, I like to live dangerously!” His friend cackled.

“Can you see me?”

“Not really, I think you are way further than me… Oh wait, I think it’s you!”

Dylan looked behind him. A bright light was following him. He made a gesture with his hand. “I just raised my arm, can you see that?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely you!”

“Ah, good.” Dylan turned around, facing the road in front of him. “Woah…”

“What… What’s happening?”

“Dude, I think we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, I see it too…” Russell said through the handheld transceiver.

As the horizon cleared, Liberty City loomed in the distance.

[everythingsf1ne23]

𝐒𝐡𝐞’���� 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑) | 

𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 & 𝘞𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🎀💕:

@yarrystyleeza If you want to be added check out my pinned post! 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 💌:

My goal is to be more productive in terms of writing this week ‘cause I’ve been lacking with the fics and also enjoy Michael’s pov at the end my lovelies ~Jess

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 📝:

in which, Molly takes her shopping but she is spotted which is a shock as she is believed to have died 

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘷:

I pose in the mirror after I apply my makeup but then I laugh, 

“oh gosh” I say to myself realising that I’ve probably put too much blush on 

but you can never have too much blush right?

I have my hair in a ponytail which is unusual as I love it done but I wanna be different for once,

My phone buzzes and I check it to see that Molly is on her way to pick me up for our shopping trip, 

I hear a whistle behind me 

so I turn to see Wayne,

“You’re looking absolutely stunning as you always do” I feel my cheeks turning red and with my blush, I probably look like a tomato 

“Aww thank you!” I get up off the chair at my vanity and I give him a hug

“You make me the happiest” I tell Wayne as he holds me tightly in the hug 

“I’m glad that I do and I’m definitely the happiest when I’m around you, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me”

I hear a car beeping and I look out the window to see Molly’s car 

“I better go otherwise Molly will probably leave without me” I smile at Wayne and he smiles back 

“Well enjoy yourself my love”

I give him a quick kiss then I grab my leather jacket along with my handbag 

“I will, see you later, I love you” 

I shut the front door behind me and I get into the passenger’s seat of Molly’s car 

“You two must be so loved up, I was almost thinking that you weren’t coming with me” 

“Of course I was still coming with you, I always enjoy our shopping trips and we really are, Wayne is honestly my everything” 

“You seem so much brighter and that’s so lovely to see” 

“How are things going with Michael?” 

“Things are really good with us” 

Soon enough we arrive at the shopping centre, some of the shops weren’t our style so we didn’t bother going into them, 

I pick out a white corset top and I pair it with bright orange pants 

I’ve been loving colour recently so I’ve been trying to bring them into all my outfits,

I decide that I need Molly’s opinion as she has great fashion sense,

“Molly what do you think?”

“It’s certainly your style, you should definitely get them” 

Afterwards we walk into a more expensive, boutique aesthetic shop 

Molly looks at the blue summer dress 

“That’s nice isn’t it?” she asks me and I nod in agreement 

“Ooh yes it’s lovely”

Molly notices the price tag 

“Well it’s very expensive especially for our pharmacist wages, we should probably be getting more for what we do”

“Yeah I definitely can agree on that one, when I was being a dj at concerts for some friends I was getting more money” 

“You were a dj? Teach me how to do it please!”

“Of course I will and yeah when I left for America last year, I decided to do something different with my life” 

“Stop that’s actually super cool, we should have a party so you can show off your dj skills” Molly giggles and I smile at her

“I’d love that, I haven’t done it in so long”

I notice some skirts in the corner of my eye so I walk quickly over 

“I haven’t bought a new skirt in so long” 

I think to myself and I look through the rack of skirts, some were mini and other were long 

I observe a cute long green flower patterned skirt but once I see the price tag I realise that I should probably leave it there,

Suddenly I have the feeling that someone’s watching me so I turn slightly and I notice that it is Viking sitting down on a small couch with his phone in his hands, 

Does he know that it’s me? I ask myself but then Molly comes over to me

“Let’s go see some other shops” she links arms with me and leads us out of the boutique. 

𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘷:

I’m currently at Amanda and Jimmy’s house as Eric apparently has something important to tell us,

“What do you think this is about?” 

I ask Amanda,

“I honestly don’t know, sure it could be about anything knowing Viking”

The front door bursts open which the three of us can only assume that it’s him

“You’ll never guess who I saw today when I was out shopping with Nikki”

Viking tells us and he is clearly in a grumpy mood as usual with him lately,

“Well no need to keep us in suspense, 

who was it?” 

“You know Moore’s cousin the one who helped him set up the shooting that killed Jamie, the one who is supposed to be dead”

“You’re actually joking right?” Amanda asks him

“Of course I’m not fucking joking, 

look there’s a photo of her”

I look and I notice that it is Molly’s friend who works with her in the pharmacy, I say nothing as I know that she’s a good person according to Molly.

“She must be really sneaky if she pulled that off, I wonder where she went” Jimmy remarks and Viking speaks up again

“I heard her speaking to her friend and apparently she was being a dj in America, I’ve done some digging and I found her new Instagram and everything” 

Viking passes his phone around once again, I could see her photos and videos with the same people, must be her friends.

“According to her Instagram, she has been in America, Europe and Asia touring with her friends at their concerts, there was even concerts here in Dublin” 

“Jesus you’ve found out a lot of information” Amanda responds 

“Nikki helped me too so I can’t take all the credit, but she could possibly be a threat so we should keep an eye on her”

I know that she is Molly’s closest friend so I can’t let anyone in the family hurt her whether she is a threat or not, I know that she means a lot to Molly so I’ll have to protect them both,

Viking turns to leave but then he turns back 

“Oh and also Wayne Madigan is following her too, so she must know him as well”

“We’re dealing with him right now so I’m sure that they’re not planning anything together” I tell him 

“If you say so Michael”

“I know so!”, I respond and then Viking finally leaves which means that I can also go home. 

[redheadspark]

For the prompt time ❝  my favorite color changes but it’s always the same,  whatever color you’re wearing.  ❞ and [ LOOK ]  for receiver to catch sender gazing adoringly at them.

With Druig

A/N: Bestie!!! Your wish is my command!

Kaleidoscope Eyes

Summary: You never believed in heart eyes. Not until you met Druig and saw him direct those eyes to you.

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF!

"Picture yourself in a boat on the river...with tangerine trees and marmalade skies...."

You played your favorite Beatles song on on your phone, letting the Bluetooth float into your car as you were driving across town at 2am from a house party you were at. The party was at the outskirts of town, a bit of a drive for you since you were the Designated Driver with your group of friends. So when the party was done and over with, you had to haul all your friends back to their homes since they were all a bit buzzed. It left you with one more drop off: You're boyfriend Druig. He lived with the leader of your ragtag group of misfits, Ajak. She was working on her dissertation at home and couldn't make it to the party, if she could have she would have been the DD. But you didn't mind not drinking, it wasn't as fun anymore since you hated the hangovers and how fast the alcohol got to your head. Druig had to live with Ajak and was with her for the past few months after his ex-roommate Ikaris kicked him out. Druig had no nowhere else to go, and Ajak had a spare room for him to crash in as soon as he called her. If you weren't as cramped in your apartment with Makkari, you would have taken him in. He practically lived there anyways with how long he would stay at your place throughout the day or the weekend. Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly...the girl with kaleidoscope eyes... You two met in college in your first class in philosophy class. He claimed he was already smitten with you when you sat down next to him with your perfectly planned out binder with no paper out of place and nicely sharpened pencils at the ready. Although he too was handsome in his leather jacket and aviator glasses hanging off his shirt, and you two hit it off instantly. He asked you out after 2 months of talking and getting to know each other, you thinking that he was a bit crazy to ask you so soon. "You barely know me," You reasoned as you two walked together near the library. He just grinned. "I know enough to like ya," He replied smoothly, "What can I say? You fascinate me,"

You said yes, and the rest was history. He would always tell you how great you looked in anything you wear, and you mean anything. It was all about colors for him, which was ironic since he mostly wore black and dark grey colors. The night you wore a green dress on your first date to a concert in a pub, he was floored with how you looked and how it smoothed out the curves along you hips and your calves. "Makes your eyes pop," He hummed as he took your hand in his, draping his leather jacket over your shoulders. You wore blue overalls with a white tank top on a Saturday morning when you were helping Gilgamesh and Thena move into their new place, the others in the group there to help too. Druig's eyes looked bright as he picked you up in his truck. You just blushed as he pressed a kiss against our cheek, you feeling the softness of his lips on your skin. "Blue makes your skin look soft, m'lady," He teased, you smacking his arm and he chuckled. Any color you wore he would tell you that you looked wonderful in it. He loved the orange pants you wore one day when you two were sitting under the trees in front of the library and reading books in silence together. Druig adored the yellow sundress you wore to the beach on a group outing when the sun was too unbearable at the college and you all needed the escape. The red lipstick you sported to the opening of Thena's gallery showcase, making Druig almost loose his breath for a moment as he looked at you from across the gallery floor as you talked with some college friends. That night, lipstick smeared on his skin and near his neck, he groaned from witnessing the deep purple lingerie set you wore under your outfit as he stripped your clothes off of you at your place. You felt so loved by him by night, like any other night. You laid next to him, the pair of you still in a sheen of sweat and gasping for air as you cocked an eyebrow at him, "You really like any color I wear?" Druig grinned at you, the blissed out look he was giving you made your header summersault as he turned to lay on his stomach, facing you with his bare back shining in the night atmosphere. His smile never left his face as he reached over to trace your arm with his fingers with gentleness and fascination "You remind me of a kaleidoscope," He hummed, his eyes never leaving yours as you listening to him while he spoke, "The kind I had when I was a kid. Any color in a kaleidoscope is bright and divine to watch. When I see you, in whatever you wear with that big grin on your face...I can't breathe for a moment or two. My favorite color changes but it’s always the same,  whatever color you’re wearing. To me, you're a living kaleidoscope for me to see everyday, and I don't wanna ever loose it, or you,"

Cellophane flowers of yellow and green, towering of your head. Look for the girl with the light in her eyes and she's gone.....

You kept driving, feeling Druig reach over to lace your hands together and have them rest in the middle of the arm rest. Looking over briefly, you saw the same stare in his eyes and in his smile as he gazed at you, watching you like you were in the last human on the planet with the bright lights of colors zooming past you while you drive. The flashes of yellows, blues and greens, reds and purples, were lighting up on your face and he beamed even brighter from seeing it. You almost felt like a living kaleidoscope then, the colors washing over your face briefly as you drove on. But you saw the same colors flash in his eyes, and it reminded you of the very song floating in the bar as love was felt there too. His kaleidoscope eyes were just as entrancing, and you saw what he saw in you then too.

The End.

Tagged: @ftrmrs-barry-keoghan @botanicalbarnes @a-lumos-in-the-nox @heartofwritiing @basicrese @multixfandomwriter

[fxlling13]

Whittaker!master x (time lord) fem reader

Happy Halloween

Synopsis: just a fun little Halloween party with your chaotic girlfriend 💓

No warnings :)

"So I rescue you from earth, give you all of time and space. Restore your lost memories and you want what?" Giggling at the masters little speech, I hugged her arm loosely.

"I wanna go to a Halloween party. You know? Dress up, music, stuff like that." I explained, hoping I could win her over. She sighed, typing away onto the keypad that was held on the screen. It showed the space we were floating in, beautiful as ever. Resting my chin on her shoulder, I gazed up to the blonde; giving her the best puppy eyes I could muster.

"Oh fine, how could I say no to your pretty little face?" Cupping my cheeks, she pecked my lips a few times before slipping away and pulling on a few of the controls. The ship jolted as we ascended into flight, rocking back and forth.

"Where are we going?" I asked curiously, getting myself stable enough to walk to her side.

"You wanted a party? I'm taking you to the biggest Halloween party in the universe." Eyes widening, I laughed happily which, in turn, made the taller smirk.

"You better have a good costume darling."

What does one dress up as to an alien party. I supposed you couldn't go as an e.t, might offend them. Deciding to go very human, I chose to go as an angel. Elegant but I could make it sexy. Maybe. Me, myself, was never self confident at all. I'd leave that to my girlfriend, to boost my ego. Pulling out a short, white dress, I threw it on and looked in the mirror. It was made of satin and hugged my figure nicely. Well, not nicely in my eyes. Just, right. The front was quite low and whilst I didn't have much to show off, it was still exposing. Adding the angel wings and white, lace stockings, I hunted around for some heels. At last, I found some. Hopefully I wouldn't fall on my face, that would be embarrassing. Shaking my head, I applied my makeup then headed back to the console room. Of course, the master was already there. Though, she wasn't dresses up at all.

"Where's your costume?" I asked frowning as she looked at me fondly.

"I dont do costumes." She told me, walking up to me with her hands in her pockets. Disappointed, I just nod and looked down. Her fingers ran through my hair gently before tilting my chin up to meet her golden eyes.

"You want me to dress up, love?" My eyes lit up and I bobbed my head in agreement. Honestly, she was almost there.

"All you need is horns!" Amused, she chuckled and raised a brow.

"What?"

"We could match. I'm an angel and you could be a devil." Seeing as she was already wearing a fancy, red pant suit, horns would make the outfit a costume.

"Isn't that just us normally?" Rolling my eyes, I went back, found a pair of devil horns and rushed back with delight.

"You're lucky I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do." I replied, fitting the band on her head. She smiled down at me as I concentrated on setting them perfectly.

"There. Perfect." Stepping back, I admired her shamelessly and watcher her pilot the tardis skilfully. We landed with a thud and I stumbled backwards only to be caught by her.

"Still falling for me then?" Laughing, stood myself up and kissed her cheek. She took my hand and pulled me out of the tardis. In front of us was a huge mansion, donned in orange streamers. The front yard was decorated with different statues and other Halloween accessories. Going up to the door, the master showed her fake ID and we let in immediately. We ended up in a large, hosting room. There was also decorations in here but much more classy. Other aliens were dressed up in costumes that I didn't understand.

"Would you like a drink, darling." The blonde asked, already guiding towards a drinks table. I observed the beverages before pointing to a red liquid.

"Oh no, you don't want that. Its the equivalent of viagra. Maybe at the end of the night." She smirked, pouring a pink drink for each of us.

"This is just to make you relax." Taking the glass from her, I sipped it and glanced around the room. There was a dance floor in the middle and children in once corner. Clearly being kept away from the adults.

"So, you like it?" Turning to my girlfriend, I nod and rested against the wall.

"Love it. Thank you." Going quiet, I looked down and began thinking. Usually the master gushed over what I looked like. But tonight? She hadn't said much. In fact, had she said anything? Did I look bad? Maybe it was too tight and my stomach was-

"(Y/n)? What are you thinking about love? You look sad." Giving her my best smile and drank my drink.

"No I'm okay."

"You know I hate when you lie to me." Sighing, I placed my glass down and pressed my lips together.

"I look horrible, don't I?" My voice was quiet, feeling awkward about expressing my feelings. I'd always hated the way I looked but got used to pushing it away. Then the master came along and started to shower me with compliments.

"Oh, come here darling." She pulled me into her embrace and placed a kiss to my head. My arms wrapped around her middle, face nuzzled into her neck.

"You're the most gorgeous person I've ever laid my eyes on. Tonight is no exception." Giving her a doubtful look, she sighed and cupped my cheeks.

"I know you don't see it yourself (y/n). Trust me when I tell you that you are beautiful." Blushing, I leant up and kissed her softly. She returned the action, ours bodies flush against each other.

"I thought you'd know I thought that by now. I'll make sure to tell you every day okay?" Nodding at her, I grabbed her hands and pulled her back onto the dance floor. Grinning, she placed her hands on my waist as mine linked round her neck. We moved in rhythm to the music, a smile never leaving my face. I noticed how her eyes slowly trailed from me to look behind me. They turned cold, deadly almost. Just as I was about ask what was wrong, a hand landed on my behind causing me to yelp. In a flash, I was drawn into the masters chest; head into her neck and her left arm gripping me tightly. She pulled out her tce and I heard that unmistakable sound of compression.

"You okay love?" Nodding, I never moved from her hold and let out a sound of content.

"No one's going to get away with touching you. Understand?" Beaming, I looked up and rested my hand on her cheek.

"I dont doubt that for a second." Chuckling, she smirked and kissed the tip of my nose sweetly.

"I'd destroy the universe for you my love." Stepping away, she twirled me around effortlessly before dragging me back in.

"Now, I'm thinking we make this night more interesting." The master whispered into my ear. I turned around and leant against her front, her hands coming down to hold my hips. Leaning my head back onto her shoulder, I pursed my lips whilst thinking.

"Nice house isn't it? Shame if it suddenly burnt down." Smirk returning, the elder brushed her lips against my ear and hummed.

"Sounds perfect doll face." Linking our fingers, we made our way out of the main room to fulfill our need for chaos.

[love-the-purple-cat]

He's not sure when it had started; whether the change was gradual or if it was like that since before.

No, it wasn't. She wasn't like that at the beginning. Back then she was always rushing, expecting a fight though she hated fighting, only coming when she was at death's door (heh) and expecting a lesson and power boost to win.

He hates her, a bit. Hates that she chose to protect others at the cost of her soul.

After the war against Aizen, after those long months that felt like an eternity during which he and the old man were slowly healing, he finally got to see her, finally got to be wielded by her again. (Did he feel it then? Did he feel the changes in her person? Or was he too happy-relieved to be back at her side to notice?)

After the dust had settled, the fight won, the welcome-back party with the shinigami (he despised them too) had come to a close, his wielder did something she had never before done during peaceful times – she visited them in her inner world. Seeing her he could immediately spot changes in her appearance: her hair was longer and styled, nearly the same length it had been before she had invaded Soul Society to save Kuchiki, her clothes were more flowy and feminine – gone were the jeans and sneakers, now she wore dresses and skirts and heels. She was even wearing makeup.

(How had he managed to ignore the blaring red flags that were those changes? Since when did Ichigo like wearing dresses? She already hated the school's mandatory skirt and choose to wear pants. The only reason she kept her hair long was for the twins.)

He had been ready to make a joke, mock her for being late, when she moved. She was suddenly in front of him, her hand (soft, it had been soft) caressing his cheek, looking at him all soft and loving (hah!) and said, "Hey, I've missed you." And that was all it took for him to ignore the changes; all it took for him to wrap his arms around her and hug her, pressing his face into her neck (she had been wearing perfume) and soaking up the brief affection she was giving him. He had nearly cried when she returned the hug.

"Ichigo," The Old Man had interrupted and he hated him for that, it was bad enough that he took his name and all of Ichigo's time, but now that he was finally getting the affecting he longed for he had to ruin it. "Welcome back."

"I'm back." She had returned, but had not separated herself from him, instead running her hand through his short hair. "Did you get a haircut? I remember this being longer."

His lips had twitched, "Just in some of my forms, King."

She had hummed, continuing to play with his hair, "Well, you look lovely no matter the hair length." And she had pressed a kiss to the side of his head!

(Was he so starved for affection that he ignored how out of character that was of her? Of the Ichigo, of his King, that he knew? Was he so weak, so pathetic that a few kind words and caresses made him blind to the truth? Or was he hoping that this was the new reality – one where Ichigo acknowledged and loved him?)

Time passed quickly, another war rapidly approaching, the shinigami once again expecting her to fight for them and how he despised them.

Ichigo would visit often, simply sitting on the sideways-turned skyscrapers, basking in the sun. The Old Man had shared her delight, though his was more subtle, of the sun. He had tried baiting her into sparring, muscles aching for stimuli, but she would beckon him close and guide his head onto her lap. "We'll have plenty of fights soon, rest for the moment." And he would listen, shifting on his back to look up at her smiling face as she caressed his cheek, orange hair moving in the imaginary breeze.

(Why did he trust her? Why did he believe her? He laughs, at least she was honest about the fighting.)

Then that new Quincy came and off they went. He had laughed, delighted in the way she masterfully wielded him, cutting down enemies, dodging attacks and falling back, far more familiar with fighting and strategising than she had been two years prior.

He had thought they were winning. They all did. But then, as most things tended to happen, the universe threw them a new curveball.

Nobody had expected the portrait – not he, not the Old Man, not the shinigami, not the Quincy, and certainly not the Zero Division. No one saw it coming.

Well, "Ichigo" did.

[jules-has-notes]

The Sing-Off, s.4 ep.5 — Movie Night

Even before movies had spoken dialogue, they had musical accompaniment. Music can convey or enhance the emotions of a scene, and make a film more impactful. (And when one of your show's production partners is under the same umbrella as several film studios, you can license some of their music pretty easily.)

.

Group opener

What's not to love about a catchy song full of big, dramatic moments from a movie about dancing? It's a fabulous way to kick off the "movie night" episode. The arrangers and choreographers clearly had fun with this number, and the singers turned it into a giant party.

Details:

title: (I've Had) The Time of My Life

original performers: Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes (featured in Dirty Dancing)

written by: John DeNicola, Donald Markowitz, & Franke Previte

arranged by: The Sing-Off arrangers

air date: 18 December 2013

My favorite bits:

the ballroom-inspired choreography

pairing up members of different groups whose voices blend well

the delightful incongruity of goth-punk Tony doing perfect pas de bourrées

Sarah Vela's gorgeous tone on ♫ "Never felt this waaay" ♫

the choreographers sparing some of the vocal percussionists by letting them enter in the last group so they don't have to dance as much (Keeping two different beats with your mouth and your body is hard.)

I figured out how to make a cropped gif for that cute moment between Geoff and Jules.

Trivia:

In order to achieve the cool silhouette effect at the beginning, Tim Foust had to stand (and sing) in a very uncomfortable position.

Once again, one of the Vocal Rush chaperones recorded a rehearsal for the kids from the audience. It's a little fuzzy, but Earl's bright orange shirt, Eli's red pants, Tony's studded black cap, and Honey's red hair make them all pretty easy to spot. Layne is in all gray at the far left. Geoff's one of the blurry dudes near the front on the right, but I'm not sure which one because it seems like the blocking changed a bit before filming.

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Theme reveal

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Order of performances

Home Free — "Oh, Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison (featured in Pretty Woman)

Vocal Rush — "Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)" by Phil Collins (from Against All Odds)

AcoUstiKats — "Old Time Rock and Roll" by Bob Seger (featured in Risky Business)

The Filharmonic — "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith (featured in Armageddon)

VoicePlay — "Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds (featured in The Breakfast Club)

Ten — "Skyfall" by Adele (from Skyfall)

Ultimate sing-offs

AcoUstiKats vs. VoicePlay — "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor (from Rocky III)

Vocal Rush vs. Ten — "Fame" by Irene Cara (from Fame)

Home Free vs. The Filharmonic — "I'm Alright" by Kenny Loggins (from Caddyshack)

.

VoicePlay performance

[Here is a longer version that includes the intro package and judges' comments.]

A theme like "movie night" is tailor-made for the theater kids of a cappella. Give them characters and a story, and they'll give you fantastic entertainment. The only stumbling block for this song was that the reality show format hindered them from following their own instincts. Jewel pushed them to be even more "emotional" than the previous episode, which steered them away from giving a performance more true to themselves.

Details:

title: Don't You (Forget About Me)

original performers: Simple Minds (featured in The Breakfast Club)

written by: Keith Forsey & Steve Schiff

arranged by: VoicePlay

air date: 18 December 2013

My favorite bits:

the costumes — a great balance between representing the characters from the movie and their own personalities

Layne subtly snapping them in rather than counting out loud

the gradual layering to fill out the sound

the downward harmony run on the first ♫ "Rain" ♫

everything dropping out when Eli kicks off the polyphony, then building back up one by one

the insistence in their voices during the final section

Trivia:

The judges' biggest critque was that VoicePlay didn't include enough of the song's iconic ♫ "La-la-la-la" ♫ hook. Geoff revealed on Twitter that their first draft of the arrangement did include more of that part, but the producers made them change it.

Shawn Stockman also touched on the fact that they'd been pushed from the beginning into arrangements that framed them more as Honey and her backup singers rather than a group of equals with diverse talents. (Not the only group with that issue.)

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Ultimate sing-off vs. AcoUstiKats

[Here is a longer version that includes the intro package and judges' comments.]

Since all six groups were paired off for battles this episode, they at least got to avoid the fraught selection process. Being able to rehearse against the same groups all week also allowed everyone to really hone their arrangements and interactions, resulting in performances that were more collaborative and fun to watch.

Details:

title: Ultimate Sing-Off – Eye of the Tiger

original performers: Survivor (featured in Rocky III)

written by: Frankie Sullivan & Jim Peterik

arranged by: VoicePlay & The AcoUstiKats

air date: 18 December 2013

My favorite bits:

Honey and Ron playing rock-paper-scissors for who gets to go first

Earl knocking Eli and Geoff's "teeth" out, and Tony's shocked reaction 😲

the ridiculously disproportionate tug of war 💪

Earl's dancing pecs leading straight into a Latin dance beat

the AcoUstiKats making their 12-man "wall of sound" into a physical barrier

Eli fending off the encroaching threats with a Matrix-style dragon kick (and some help from Earl)

the melodramatic tableaux when the final "brawl" breaks out

ending it all on a glorious major chord

Trivia:

It didn't end up in the final episode (for reasons that will become obvious), but this performance got a standing ovation from the audience and the judges.

The groups apparently gave themselves the portmanteau of "CatsPlay", which is just adorable. 😺

.

Judges' choice

Eliminated: VoicePlay & AcoUstiKats

Despite the show framing the "ulitmate sing-off" segments as battles with a winner and a loser, the judges bafflingly chose to cut both halves of the showdown between VoicePlay and the AcoUstiKats. It seems that the groups working together to create a more cohesive performance resulted in the judges pitting the three supergroups against each other instead.

.

This episode was filmed on Geoff's birthday… which means they got kicked off on his birthday. 😒 At least that meant they got to go home and rest for a few days before coming back for the finale?

[littledreamling]

about me

Tagged (ish) by the wonderful @landwriter (feel free to be nosy all you like!)

Nickname: Crow, among many others given to me by my family which shall remain anonymous unless some of my irl friends decide to clown me (looking at you @levi1088)

Sign: Sagittarius sun, Libra moon, Scorpio rising so... yeah, do with that what you will

Height: 5'4" last time I checked

Last thing I googled: synonyms for "hollowed" which, I'll admit, is not my proudest google search but it's not the worst either so I'll take it

Song stuck in my head: Currently empty but I had No Cyrano from the Cyrano soundtrack stuck in my head earlier today

Number of followers: a humble 382 (and I'm thankful for every single one of you, I love you all!)

Amount of sleep: Last night? Less than four hours altogether. Normally? Roughly six, though my winter break just started so that will increase drastically soon

Dream job: university professor of some kind, undecided as to which subject (the current plan is biology or genetics, though my heart has been swayed towards history recently and I do love creative writing, so who knows where I'll end up)

Wearing: black and white lounge pants with elephants on them, a black Levi's hoodie stolen from my first ex before the pandemic struck, black socks, and my hair tied in a half-up bun (it's really not long enough to do so, but I bend it to my will with copious amounts of hair gel, clips, and hair ties)

Movies/books that summarize me: I have to agree with Gloam on this one, it feels like a question others must answer for me so hold on, let me ask my roommate... she said The Hunt for the Red October, Cyrano, the All For The Game series, NBC's Hannibal, and the Martian (the book). All very odd choices, yet I do love them, so I can't disagree lmao

Favorite song: oh where to start... I have a rotating spotify playlist of songs I'm obsessed with, but for the sake of the game, I'll say either Wild World by Marc Scibilia or Monsoon by Hippo Campus (though I could list about ten more and still not be satisfied by my answer)

Favorite instrument: the church organ, based on religious trauma and sound alone. For obnoxiousness (because I'm a younger sibling, obnoxiousness is in my blood), the bagpipes (though there is a soft spot in my heart for the bagpipes, genuinely, as my parents hate them so I love them out of spite. The same could be said of the harmonica, which I have recently become intrigued by)

Aesthetic: it can best be described as "dark" and mainly comprises of black hoodies, black jeans, black doc martens, and an inordinate number of piercings (though still not enough). I've been trying to get more into dark academia and thus, half of my wardrobe has been overtaken by white collared shirts and brown sweaters, but I much prefer my signature black. A friend has recently described me as "always looking like you're ready for the apocalypse" possibly due to my penchant for wearing pants with lots of pockets... still unsure about that one

Favorite authors: it hardly needs to be said but Neil Gaiman has to make the list. I also quite enjoy Edgar Allan Poe and I've been recently getting into Nikita Gill's poetry especially her book "Where Hope Comes From." As a former gifted kid, I read young adult novels for far longer than I probably should have, so any foray into "adult" literature (not in the dirty way, get your mind out of the gutter) has been recent and somewhat hesitant. My dad has recently introduced me to Charles de Lint, and I'm excited to unearth what's in store for me there.

Random fun fact: I can lick my elbow, which is a fun party trick, I rode horses for over ten years (which makes me a certified former horse girl, you have permission to clown me), I own over 20 tarot decks (don't ask me why, and also don't ask me exactly how many because I haven't counted in a while and the actual number would probably be astounding), and I currently have blue hair (in fact, I've dyed my hair every color of the rainbow except orange)!

I'm not sure who's been tagged for this but I'm tagging @btwimkindagay @pellaaearien @10moonymhrivertam @staroftheendless and anyone else who wants to do it! (but like Gloam said, please tag me in it so I can be nosy!!)