#but actually this is kinda a cool wallpaper

[paprikkamspaint]

All we do is advertise!!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[crowbugz]

Agnes - Glass Animals

[anakinsdove]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

pairing: sam monroe x shy!girlygirl!fem!reader

summary: sam can’t seem to get hard, he also can’t stand you, but he needs your help.

c/w: nsfw, fluff, friends to lovers, sam pretends not to like reader but they’re actually friends, handjob, makeout session, overstimulation, unintentional dacryphilia? reader doesn’t know she has that kink, also sam is mean and reader is kinda innocent if not naive.

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 𝟮,𝟮𝟱𝟴.

Sam stroked his cock lazily, laying on his messy bed while “Paranoid” from Black Sabbath played from his stereo volume insanely loud, he stared at the ceiling eyes wide open. To say he was frustrated was an understatement, he’s been stroking his cock for the past 45 minutes and he can’t even get hard yet, he doesn’t understand what’s wrong, “fuck!” He yells in frustration, he watched every single porn tape he owned and couldn’t even pop a boner, from time to time he looks beside him to the porn magazine, hes just not focused, not even his imagination can help him… it’s been like this for the past week. Maybe it finally happened, his cock doesn’t work anymore and he’s still a virgin, he’s pathetic.

Weed doesn’t work, porn doesn’t work, imagination doesn’t work and he’s not lucky enough to get action, the only thing worse than not being able to get hard himself is not being able to get hard with another girl, he would rather kill himself. His wrist aches and he cries out in frustration, he’s so needy, and he’s sweating, it’s so unfair…. he doesn’t hear you knocking on his window.

“sam!” you been calling his name for the past two minutes but it felt like an eternity for your antsy little ass, he’ll kill you if you go inside without his permission, you don’t understand what his deal is when not letting people go inside he’s too dramatic you think “sam!” you call again, now you’re starting to get impatient so you decide to open his balcony door and get inside.

Sam cringes at sunlight and cries out “get out!” throwing at you the porn magazine beside his head as he quickly covers himself with the sheets… what the fuck?

“What is this?” you ask curiously as you kneel to pick up the magazine your eyes instantly landing on the woman with big tits “Turn around!” Sam yells furiously, you do as he says and quickly puts on a pair of boxers, when he realizes you’re still flicking through his magazine, he walks over and takes it right out of your hands, you don’t say anything only look up at him with doe eyes… sam looks away.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask with that sweet and calm voice of yours, exactly the opposite of Sam’s “Go where?” He asks annoyed, you never made plans of going anywhere together, “My house, we’re going to watch a movie” sam pretends to think hardly about it, making you think he might have more important things to do, cooler things to do than to watch a movie with you, well he doesn’t. “Fine but I’m picking the movie” you nod and Sam turns around to grab some pants from his floor.

“Let’s go” Sam says like it’s obvious he’s done and you’re just standing there like an idiot, you follow him downstairs and to the front door and this time sam opens the door for you but still pushes you a little to get out faster.

You start walking trying to maintain his peace, and steal glances at him when you can, before he notices it “What?” Sam asks… so he did notice after all “Nothing its just… you’re not wearing makeup” you say “So?” He asks “it’s uncommon” he doesn’t roll his eyes or anything, you might be starting to think you’re friends. 10 minutes later you arrive to your house and this time you open the door for Sam.

“Where’s your mom?” He asks “she’s not home” “cool” Sam knows very well the way to your room, your room is completely different to his, clean bedsheets and freshly made bed, pink wallpaper decorating your walls and what might be the star of your room, your pretty vanity displaying all of your makeup, Sam always looks a little bit interested in your makeup but when he realizes it mostly soft colors and pink, blushes and lip gloss he loses interest just as quick, he thinks the only cool makeup product you own it’s black eyeliner, you grab your favorite disc “six pence none the richer” by six pence none the richer and “Kiss me” starts playing, Sam’s face instantly turns in disgust.

“What?” You ask, “isn’t there anything less awful you could play?” “Huh?” “Limp bizkit or something” “Limp what?” Sam decides to drop the topic due your answer. “Wait here, I’ll make the popcorn” you sprint out of your room and sam wanders through your room, he’s done it a dozen times by now, even knows which one is your underwear drawer, where your diary is… he beats up your plushies and when he’s done he goes across the room and stares at your Chad Michael Murray poster you probably found in a girly magazine and gives it the middle finger.

He can hear you singing downstairs and he rolls his eyes, what’s wrong with her? Sam asks himself, and two minutes later he decides there’s nothing worthy of his time in your room and lays on your bed staring at the ceiling “Here” you say putting the popcorn bowl on his stomach, he didn’t even hear you come upstairs, you sit next to him and squirm trying to get comfortable, Sam quickly looks away when he sees your skirt riding up a little bit “So, what movie are we watching?” You ask excited

Sam smirks

“Sam!” You cry out trying to cover your eyes with the popcorn bowl, of course he picked “Texas Chainsaw massacre” you’ve never watched this movie before and you totally hated it, 40 minutes later into the film.. Sam ignores your plea and his eyes are still focused on the tv, “Sam…” you say weakly with a pout in your face, “Sam can we please watch something else?” Sam sighs and grabs the tv remote to pause the movie. “Why?” “It’s too scary” “You’re such a crybaby” Sam says annoyed “It’s all fake, you know that right?” “It’s still very awful” you say and Sam grabs the popcorn bowl from your arms “sorry” you say apologetically.

“Do you want to go outside?” You ask “No” “What do you want to do?” He doesn’t respond “Sam” you try again “what!?” Sam says annoyed and you look like wounded puppy “what’s wrong? you seem really annoyed today, more than usual” “I’m fine” you sit closer to him, now your thighs are touching and he can smell your dizzying body lotion that smells like cupcakes, he stares at your lips and your cleavage…

“You can talk to me, I won’t judge you” Sam knows you would never do it, you’re too pure to make a joke of any situation that might be hurting him “My dick is broken” he lets out abruptly “what?” “I can’t get hard” Sam confesses “Oh” you don’t really know what to say…. “Why?” “I don’t fucking know” there clearly annoyance in his voice

“Are you going to see a doctor?” “What!? Why the fuck would I go to the doctor” “I dunno” you say confused and mostly to yourself “Are you going to tell your mom?” “You give the worst advices ever, seriously, are you that stupid. I wont tell my fucking mom” now he sounds genuinely angry. “Hey you’re not being nice!” Now it’s your turn to yell at him “I’m not trying to be!” You grab your pillow and hit him in the face with it, hard enough to make him yelp, then he grabs your other pillow and hits you with it, you gasp offended “Hey!” You grab the pillow again and start hitting him repeatedly pushing him on his back and getting on his lap as you keep your assault, you’re practically jumping on his dick as the bed moves and creaks beneath you, “Stop!” Sam yells urgently under you, you keep going and Sam lets out a moan and urgently grabs your hips to keep you still “S-stop! I’m sorry”

You finally stop the assault, your expression changing to confusion when you realize Sam is panting beneath you, “What’s wrong?” You ask, he looks up to you in shock and sits up, you try to get off his laps but his hands hold your hips still “Did I hurt you?” You ask with evident sadness and regret in your voice “I’m hard” Sam confesses breathlessly “But I thought you couldn’t-“ “I couldn’t!” You carefully remove yourself from his lap, his blue eyes stare at the obvious tent in his pants and you do it too, he takes the pillow and covers himself feeling ashamed “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” There’s slight annoyance in his voice “You know what is like trying to jack off soft?” You shake your head “It’s fucking annoying” “But I made you hard isn’t that what you wanted?” He shakes his head “I thought I helped you” you said confused “You could help me if I could kiss you” he says and you look at him shocked “i thought we weren’t friends” “We’re not friends” he says “Are you my boyfriend then?” “What!?” He says shocked “I dunno” you say “L-Look sometimes what you think you know doesn’t necessarily have to do much with reality” you tilt your head to the side “Okay”

You start leaning in and he lens back a little bit, you open your eyes in confusion and quickly closes them when he finally kisses you, his lips are soft, inexperienced just as yours, he moves his lips a little more impatient than yours, he’s uncoordinated, you moan when he grabs your waist roughly with one hand trying to pull you close to him, he’s not gentle, not because he doesn’t want to but because he doesn’t know how to… “Sammy… I want to help you” you say breathlessly… he kisses you again and moves him hands to tug on his pants, also his boxers, his cock is freed and slaps against his stomach… “what do I do?” You ask, so much for helping him “Just w-wrap your hand around it” you wrap your hand around his dick too loose for his liking he groans in annoyance due your unintentional teasing.

Sam wraps his hand around yours instructing you to tighten your wrip, and you do, he guides your hand to stroke him faster “Yesyesyes something like that” Sam says and his eyes screw shut “g-give me your hand” he says breathlessly, you do as he says and he spits in your hand “You can go again” you feel the familiar wetness in your panties as you keep jerking him off, the wetness you feel in you aching pussy that can only be relieved when you grind yourself against your plushies rubing nicely against you clit.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Sam say between moans, “Play with my balls c’mon” you cup them gently in your hand not knowing much about what to do with them.. when you start rolling them between your fingers, they feel nice and heavy on your palm fuzzy skin feeling so delicious against your fingers, his heavy cock in your hand is pulsating, you look at him and see his stomach contracting where his shirt rode up… he can’t help but let out pathetic whines “You sound so pretty Sam” you say and his eyes roll back, he moves his hands up to grip your tits and massage them, unexpectedly he grips them too hard and you make a small “ow” sounds make him grip them more gently Sam thinks he’s in heaven… he might be.

“c-cumming cumming!” he pants “ohh f-fuck!” Sam spams, his eyes roll back and his thighs shake, it’s a sight for sore eyes… white ropes of cum paint your hand and your wrist, you keep moving your wrist to help him ride his orgasm, just like when you keep grinding against your plushies after you cum… but Sam is not used to it “w-wait wait!” Sam writes on the bed trying to get away from your touch, “what?” You ask as your wrist keeps moving up and down still at a really fast peace, his head rolls back and you hear a whimper, his toes curl inside his shoes as he kicks his feet desperately… “ah ah ah!” tears start falling from his eyes wetting his eyelashes as he gasps for air “s-stop” you stop instantly when you hear the word and Sam groans tiredly… what the fuck… you gave him the best orgasm of his life… You “Y/N L/N”

Sam curls into himself panting still… you move to your nightstand to grab a wet wipe, you clean your hand and move him on his back… wiping the cum that landed on his stomach and some on his dick, Sam hisses at the contact of the cold wipe on his dick… “Did you- did you like it?” you ask nervously, Sam opens his eyes and puts his softening cock back in his boxers and tugs his pants up. Sam nodds shyly “T-thank you” You unexpectedly hug him falling on top of him, “I’m glad I could help-“

“Y/N!” You hear your mom call from downstairs shes coming upstairs Sam panics a little “Hey Sam!” Your mom greets Sam and he weakly waves at her “What are you guys doing?” “W-We just finished watching a movie” “Oh Okay” finally your mom leaves to her room.

Unexpectedly sam kisses you again, this time is soft and gentle, not rushed but still passionate, “You’re so pretty” he admits “I thought you didn’t like me” you admit “I do” “I thought we weren’t friends” “We’re not!” Sam says and kisses you again.

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜! 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤?

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers @i92-93 @sweetparty

[deadghosy]

Hey!! I have a request! Could you do the hazbin hotel characters and fem! CatNap reader! I know CatNap is a boy but I would like to see what kind of head canons they would have for a female version of CatNap. Also maybe reader would love chasing things around since cats do that?

HAZBIN HOTEL X FEM CATNAP!READER HEADCANNONS

prompt: you are female resident who helps sinners with insomnia

OKAY FIRST OFF! YOU DEFINITELY STILL SMELL LIKE VANILLA AND LAVENDER!🦆 NO ONE CAN ARGUE ABOUT THIS TO ME 😭

What I headcannon is kinda cartoony as reader has her legs cross as she just nods listening to a sinner’s sleep problem as she is just wearing glasses and a vest. Dead ass she just knocks them out like. “Problem solved!”

Charlie made you a room so residents and sinners could come in and have you help them sleep. Like either you knock them out and walk away. Or you actually stop being a lazy mofo and help them personally.

I headcannon based on the fluffy plush bodies that reader is still flat like the male catnap, cause obviously she doesn’t have a chest just like the plush body of Bobby bearhug. That’s basically how I imagine reader’s body is with her being like a little more skinny but definitely having trouble with people asking what her gender is.

“I’m a fucking cat, that’s what I am.” Is what reader would say irritated as it’s obvious in her feminine/decent voice.

Sassy catnap!reader is a goal as you would literally just do shit for shits and giggles😭✨🔥

Headcannon you have a purple vest with a white dress shirt and a black or white skirt with a few moon patterns on it while the color of your dress shirt as a moon pendent💗🦆

You straight up knocked a person out with your red smoke because they had sexualized you during the session and all you had to say was. “Oh really? Count to three…” “count to wh-” immediate knocked out as they fell face first from the chair as you smile with a full grin.

You used your claws to cut open a piece of candy for nifty as she hugs you and walked away happy. You love helping….

Alastor ran from you as you were chasing after him like a predator because he said he doesn’t need sleep…okay so imagine this….

You are sneaking like a lion behind Alastor as he drinks tea and he is like “I feel watched” with a sweatdropped and next thing people see in the halls is you grinning as you drag a motionless Alastor who still holds his tea up.

You wrapped your tail around Charlie to help her put up a banner as you file your claws as it was time to trim them. Like I imagine that as vaggie is like “What.” With a blank confused face seeing her girlfriend get lifted by a 8ft tall female cat

I can see reader having those teas that help people to sleep just incase they don’t like being passed out “force”. So you just make them tea as you listen to them rant as they fall asleep

Imagine reader reading a book as Lucifer is having a hyper moment behind her as she just peacefully reads….

It gives off “calm friend x hyper friend” vibes

Lucifer had one time patted you, and kept petting you until you purred so he can feel relaxed. He likes your purrs.

The duck king definitely has a picture of you purring on his lap…he even has it as his wallpaper kinda because of how soft and good smelling your fur is

OOOH IMAGINE YOU AND ANGEL HAVING A FASHION SHOW IN HIS ROOM💗🦆

Angel definitely gets you some nice clothes to match your aesthetic or purple clothing with white and cream.

You carry nifty in your mouth as if she was your kit….its cute okay…like niffty straight up smile as you hold her like your own kitten.

“This is ma mom now!” Nifty says happily as you just walk around with the back of her dress in your mouth.

Cherri bomb was good about you by Angel dust as Angel had put an image of how cool and badass you are at not following the rules. She always tries to persuade you into giving her your red smoke to make bombs out of it. SHE ONLY WANTS TO CAUSE DESTRUCTION!!!🦆‼️

Sir Pentious brings his egg boiz to you when they can’t sleep so you can use your red smoke on them. They snuggle in your purple fur as you just play a lullaby for them

I imagine you and husk purring by each other out of no where confused…but it’s because of your peaceful scent installed in your fur and body.

You still have your signature cocky smile before you knock a bitch out with the gas coming from your mouth.

I can see how you have a moon ring as [favorite hazbin hotel character] has a sun ring to show off your friendship with them

Imagine how reader gets groomed by the whole hazbin hotel crew because of their 8ft tall frame…there’s a lot of extra work in grooming your fur.

You definitely have those candles as well with that lavender smell with hint of vanilla. You have so much aromatherapy stuff for people. You might as well be the aroma goddess-

I headcannon you using your demon form (basically that form where the player sees catnap as a skinny monster) to scare people 😭 you’re an asshole as I imagine Angel getting ready for his morning to only see you behind the shower curtain with a creepy smile

Angel screamed and ran out the room looking crazy…..😭 Charlie found out and made you apologize to Angel as he was locked in his room..

He’s definitely not going to the bathroom alone-

Just like my other catnap! Reader, you definitely walk around slowly but stealthy releasing that poppy gas just incase a resident or your friends try sneaking out. “It’s time for bed…” you says quietly as you move smoothly around the hotel hallways

Just like before, Lucifer was scared of you until you showed him you can be quite the loving person you can be. Like Lucifer will lay on your body for comfort if he was getting busy from paper work in his office.

I can imagine Angel trying to get you to use your gas on Valentino and you’re like “sure” as you put a jar to your mouth and release it and give it to Angel.

[matrixbearer2024]

Enough With The Schemes!

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Ngl I kinda had this in my drafts just because I didn't know how it'd ever fit into the story but I decided to fix it up and post it after @vespers-night-sky's fanart for the "Get Off My Screen" Series- the direct continuation and reader's death is in the works folks, I've just been trying to figure out the pacing ahsojskqjds- I am not gonna be a Hazbin Hotel episode jkjkjk Anyway, thank you thank you THANK YOU ALL for the support with the series and think of these little things as filler episodes before the big reveal. Anyways, as usual- happy reading and I hope you all enjoy! The series in it's entirety can be found on my blog under the #Get Off My Screen Series

You didn't know how much more of Vox's shenanigans you could take.

First it had been the wallpaper war-

Until now you couldn't stop his face from being a permanent fixture to your devices-

But it was fine, he could have that!

You lamented over not having [Favorite Fictional Character Name] in your backgrounds anymore but you know what it was fineeeee-

You honestly couldn't tell if having his glitchy grinning face was an upgrade or cringe central.

Then he figured out how to absolutely lag out your computer at some point.

You seriously wanted to punch his monitor head from frustration because of it.

Especially when he had the nerve to laugh at your irritation-

This asshole-!

Now, he was absolutely blowing up your phone and devices with memes or just anything under the sun.

Not that messing with the notification settings would help-

Because somehow he'd figured out how to completely bypass those too.

If this was why that Alastor guy and Vox had a tiff you could practically relate.

Your phone just continued to buzz and vibrate on the table next to you.

Not that you could be fucked with it at the moment trying to cram a paper your professor assigned last BLOODY MINUTE!

That was of course until the Vox desktop companion grabbed the cursor and just didn't let you have it back.

As much as you tried, the darn thing only emoted angrily and refused to give you back the damn arrow.

Your eye twitched as you tried to maintain your cool, only to get up from the desk and scream obscenities to no one in particular.

The day had been a particularly bad one and you really just couldn't deal with Vox's bullshit right now.

"Helloooooo! HELLOOOOOOO?! Earth to (Y/N)! Pick up your fucking phone!!!"

Oh for the love of god he better not have changed your ringtone too-

You rubbed your face in an attempt to calm down before finally checking your phone.

Honestly you expected it to be something really stupid, but seeing what his messages were about made you feel slightly guilty for ignoring him the whole day.

Vox grew used to the routine you both had, so it was no surprise that your sudden inactivity drove his anxiety up the walls.

Poor guy thought of all the worst possible cases that could've happened to you-

He'd greet you in the morning and you would always reply afterwards while eating breakfast.

Save for the times you'd gotten sick or just felt under the weather.

After all, you had classes in the morning and he had broadcasts to air.

You also hated being tardy, similar to how he saw punctuality as something extremely important.

The two of you would intermittently chat within the day and tell each other if you had work to do so you both could leave each other alone for a designated time.

Vox often didn't adhere to this, but he'd always keep his distractions to a minimum if you asked.

Actually neither did you, sometimes you'd be the one spam sending him anything you could think of just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Then you would wish him a good night's rest and he would eventually reply back with a silly gif or emoji that bode you the same.

He just grew used to it, the familiarity of your companionship in his monotonous day to day.

So whenever something fell apart in the routine you both had, Vox couldn't help but worry that something happened to you.

Whether you'd gotten sick or just anything worse-

It didn't sit well with him when you didn't reply to his morning message like you often did.

Constantly checking his phone for any updates from you to find nothing.

Zilch, none, zero.

The worrying feeling only grew as time ticked onwards.

Even at your busiest you would still shoot him a memo saying that you were.

Which only made this radio silence-

Haha see what I did there-

Worse than it really was.

So what did Vox do?

Absolutely blow up your phone and devices trying to get your attention.

Only when he realized you were doing something on your laptop did he let the desktop companion he made for you interfere.

Not that he even really understood what he'd stuck his hands into.

"What the hell even happened to you today? You didn't even reply to any of my fucking messages! I thought something happened to you!"

"Well SORRY I couldn't reply to your terminally online ass. I was busy dealing with my shitty assignment workload."

The TV overlord quickly picked up that you weren't in a pleasant mood.

The way you typed was just a dead giveaway.

Glancing up at his schedule, Vox notified his secretary to cancel a few of his meetings before he replied to you.

"Anything I can help you with? I'm free for a good few hours."

You were taken aback by his offer, every time Vox would help you he didn't even bother asking.

He just straight up started editing whatever you were working on no matter what you said.

Who was this guy and what did he do with Vox-

"You aren't trying to bullshit me are you? Cuz I'm not in the mood."

"I can tell dollface, let me guess- your shitty professor again?"

You ended up ranting about the abruptly given assignment and just a bunch of other things that slowly ruined your day.

Vox just agreed with you here and there, shooting one word replies or emojis to show he was still listening.

All the while he made the desktop companion let go of your cursor and he looked over your work.

Wow your writing was still absolutely shit-

"So now I've gotta submit this fucking paper before midnight or I'll get a 40% deduction."

"Don't worry about it, we can finish this in an hour. Anything else?"

It was an economics paper you were struggling on and this was Vox you were talking to.

You shouldn't have been surprised that he already knew his way around the topic.

You glanced up from your phone and already saw him editing your essay.

Why didn't you just ask him for help sooner??

"I think I can handle the rest. Thanks anyway, mind if I put on some music while I write?"

"As long as I get to pick some of the songs."

"Deal."

It shouldn't have done anything really.

You shouldn't be having this funny feeling in your gut.

A fuzzy warmth that bloomed because Vox was so quick to drop everything and help you.

Even if it was just something minor like your paper.

Still, you couldn't help but smile as you put on some relaxing tunes and typed away alongside your favorite digital companion.

Just like that, you both melted back into the usual cycle of talking and working.

A casual harmony that you were more than happy to just live in for the moment.

BONUS:

Both you and Vox were just casually chatting by the time his secretary called him away for the scheduled broadcast.

Of course, you wished you could see what he was actually doing but stopped before you could say so.

Instead you just wished Vox well in the broadcast.

"Of course doll, and you know me! I'll be just fine."

Well, his broadcast was going fine-

Until his screen suddenly glitched and randomly played a tune from your playlist.

Had he forgotten to unlink himself from your devices?

It took a few seconds for Vox to compose himself but his show thankfully went on without another hitch.

You on the other hand?

You were just having a personal concert in your room to unwind while waiting for Vox to come back.

So it came as a surprise when the song you played randomly paused and made the Bluetooth disconnect sound.

You didn't connect it to anything-?

Though your questions were eventually answered when Vox blew up your phone again.

This time you couldn't help but laugh.

You were friends with a demonic overlord sure-

But it was hard to fear him when he was such a doofus.

[wardenparker]

Red Lipstick

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: Ghost!reader, drug use (cocaine), mentions of murder, mentions of past adultery, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, fingernails/scratching, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, sex while high. Summary: When Dieter moves into a new house, the last thing he expected was to end up with a sultry new roommate. Especially one that died almost a hundred years ago. Notes: Blessed Samhain and Happy Halloween everybody! Let's celebrate by having Dieter get both high and nasty.

"I think you're going to be really pleased with how things are set up, Dee." As his personal assistant, Kendra has spent the last month getting her best and only client packed up, moved into his new house, and unpacked again while Dieter Bravo has been overseas filming. He had decided that the mansion he had been living in, in Malibu, just wasn't doing it for him anymore and she had been dispatched to fix the problem.

This art deco colossus in the Hollywood Hills was her answer — supposedly having belonged to some long forgotten starlet back in the silent era. Poor thing was poisoned by her husband's mistress, if the rumors were true. But Dieter didn't need to know that. Instead, Kendra sweeps him inside the door with an encouraging smile on her face and tries to get him to look around. "If you want anything moved around, you just say the word," she promises him.

“It’ll be fine.” For all his bullshit, Dieter isn’t actually as fussy as a lot of people might believe. He just wants a comfortable, vibey place to relax, do drugs and fuck. He looks around and nods, impressed with how quickly they’ve set everything up. “Kinda creepy. I like it.”

"I found some of the original furnishings in the attic and had them cleaned up. Reupholstered as necessary. I thought you'd like them." Extremely pleased with herself, Kendra looks around the large front hall and smiles. "There is food in the fridge with reheat instructions and plenty of things in the pantry if you want to eat without fuss. Your chef will be coming by every other day like usual. Would you like a tour?"

“Sure.” Maybe it’s a little odd that he’s needing a tour for a home he now owns, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually look at the listings that Kendra had sent him. She knew what he liked and what he didn’t, and he had trusted her to pick the best one for him.

The first floor has all the usual rooms, and considering the place was built in 1920 it has some unusual ones, too. A library and a dining room make perfect sense. The sitting room has been transformed into a relatively normal living room. The conservatory with all the plants Kendra could reasonably cram into it has a big table for playing games at and a bunch of places to sit for when he has people over to work but they want something nice to look at. The former ballroom? She left it sparsely decorated so he can decide what he wants to do with it later. Upstairs, the five bedrooms all have walk-in closets and their own bathrooms, and the largest one has been turned into his new bedroom. The giant brass bed in the attic was way nicer than his so she topped it with his mattress and covered the whole thing in his favorite sheets, blankets, and pillows. His other furniture is all set up, and his assistant has set up all the other guest rooms to be ready to go. “What do you think?” Kendra asks, leading him into the room with dark green wallpaper and mahogany wainscoting.

Dieter frowns and tilts his head at the ornate bed. “Did– that’s not my bed, is it?” He asks, pointing at it. “I would remember being tied to it, and I – I’ve not done that yet, I don’t think.”

“I found it in the attic,” Kendra tells him, passing by the comment with just a half-smirk. “I thought you’d like it.”

"It fucking cool." His eyes are positively excited as he rushes towards the bed and caresses the brass scroll work on the bed. "It's mine? It came with the house?" He can't imagine that someone would leave this badass bed, he wouldn't. It's orate and beautiful, drawing him to it in a way he can't describe. Imagining amazing sex in this bed and the flash of a woman. Just a glimpse as his hand wraps around one post.

“It’s yours.” She’s pleased with his reaction and smiles as he inspects the looming piece of furniture. “I know you have a few favorite booty calls in town if you want to try it out tonight.”

He chuckles and almost agrees but he doesn't. Deciding he wants to spend his first night in the house alone. Settle with it and figure out what kind of vibes it's giving him. "Maybe," is all he says.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” She nods when he looks back at her and heads for the stairs, leaving Dieter alone in his new house. He has the keys, he has his bearings, and he has dinner already made. She’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.

"Hello?" He calls out, just for fun even as the door has closed behind his assistant minutes ago. He's a firm believer in spirits, knowing that his aura projects out into the universe. It's why he doesn't like things messing with his brain waves like the bluetooth headphones.

“Hello sweetie.” From the doorway of the bedroom that once was yours, you place your hands on your waist and practically hum at the man standing near your bed. He doesn’t have that slick, smooth, buttoned-up look that men of your era did, but he has an undeniable appeal all his own. Not that he can see you — oh no — but at least you’ll have something nice to look at. The last family to own the house your fortune built was rather…unfortunate looking.

There's something. Dieter's skin tingles and he hums as he looks around the room. Swearing that he had felt something. "I'm– uh, I come in peace." He tells the room.

“Aw, sugar…” Tutting, you saunter into the room and cross your arms over your chest. The dressing robe you’ve worn for the last ninety-five years still gives you the feeling of swishing around as you move even though that’s now impossible. “You can’t see me, handsome. Or hear me. Nobody can.”

"Whoever you are..." Dieter's brows lift and he gives a sympathetic expression. "I feel you. Just know that I'm here to live beside you. And get really high."

“Feel me?” It would be too much to ask for it to be true, and you tilt your head at him curiously. “Sugar, I’d let you feel me in a heartbeat.“

"Can spirits get high?" He asks, mostly to himself and he chuckles. "We can get faded together."

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” You laugh softly to yourself. “Might be fun.”

"I'm hungry." Dieter groans, rubbing his stomach and then scratching it. "Gonna go down to the kitchen and get something to eat." He looks around the room. "Don't like– throw a knife at my head or anything, okay?"

That makes you laugh, a deep sound that is unpretentious and unexpected, and you decide to follow him down to the kitchen. The blandness of the last owners had been absolute, but this one is fun. And at least not a stick in the mud. Maybe his food will be worth smelling as well.

Rambling down the stairs, Dieter starts to hum a little tune. One that he doesn't recognize but he swears it from some old black and white movie.

“Now how do you know that?” The sound of the tune makes you hurry up, floating alongside this new man on feet that no longer touch the ground. You’d know it anywhere. The theme from a movie long gone and long forgotten — but that you’d sung yourself into that big studio microphone to be recorded and played for your first ever ‘talkie’. If only you hadn’t died first, you might’ve made a go of musicals.

"What movie is that from?" Dieter loves to get stoned and watch old movies. Having hundreds of channels that include a lot of classic movies, black and whites and even the great era of silent movies. There was something about that time that just appeals to him, the art of acting without saying a word. It took a lot more skill to portray emotion and your intent when you cannot say anything. "I'll have to look it up."

“Bernice Bobs Her Hair…” The film had been full of dances and a few good songs, all wrapped around that darling story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It was supposed to be a breakout. Reignite your star. Instead you were dead on premiere night. “It was called Bernice Bobs Her Hair.”

“B something,” Dieter frowns, cocking his head as he reaches for the fridge. “The chick who was in it died the night it came out.” He snaps his fingers and yanks the door open to see what Kendra had left for him, “Ohhhhh Thai!”

"Thank god I looked good, at least." You huff, crossing your arms again as you try to figure out what he's tying as he takes things out of the icebox.

“Peanut sauce, fuck yes!” He could kiss his assistant, knowing he’s been on a Thai kick lately and she has put all his favorites in there. “I can reheat the samosas in the air fryer. That will be good.” He talks to himself. “Pad Thai, that omelet thing I can never say right. Fuckkkkkkk, she got me the green curry. Imma get fucked up and munch.”

He's got a boyish kind of charm to him as he zips around the kitchen, and if you could you would be leaning back against the counter to watch. As it is, the small sound of your laughter and the smile on your face is private, but you find yourself hoping he might continue to speak to himself out loud from time to time. It's nice to be able to pretend that he is actually talking to you.

Dieter straightens up and looks towards the counter near the fridge. “Oh shit. Forgive me. I don’t know how to live with a – a spirit.” He shrugs. “Do you want to join me? Can ghosts eat? Probably not right? Fuck. That would suck. I’m sorry.”

When he looks right at you, you feel your mouth fall open and your eyes double in size. "You— can you— see me?" It's just a coincidence. It has to be. He can't possibly be looking at you, right? Just...in your general direction...

“I swear to fuck you are right there.” He points at you and sighs. “Or you’re so goddamn lonely you’re inventing ghosts to have someone to talk to, Bravo.” He blows out a breath, wondering when he lost his fucking mind.

"I am right here." Moving away from the counter, you get closer to him and closer, wondering how it's possible at all for him to sense you. If he has any idea who you are. "I'm right in front of you..." you murmur, wondering what would happen if you reached out to try to touch him.

“Right.” Dieter drops his head and reaches up to rub his neck. “Time to do some cocaine.” He grunts, sure that he’s answered his own question. “Or maybe that new shit Kevin brought me.” It amused him to no end that his regular supplier’s name was Kevin. He had him in his phone as ‘Home Alone’ for kicks.

"Ooo, cocaine. How darling and nostalgic of you. I miss cocaine." When he walks away you can't help but sigh. Or you would, if you still drew breath. Instead you occupy yourself in the most entertaining way currently at your disposal: following around the living person in your house.

There's a reason Dieter loves to have ornate or even simple flat mirrors around his home. One, it reflects light and brightens any space up. Two, it's great for setting up a line for coke. Making him think of those 80's parties every time he uses his credit card to line one up to snort, he giggles. "Too bad I don't have one of those fancy rings where you open the little compartment to take a bump." He grunts, knowing he would always have that thing loaded.

“Find my jewelry box in the attic and you’ll find a few beauties.” You hum, setting yourself on the nearby chair to lounge. That’s all you can do these days and it’s terribly annoying.

Once the line is as perfect as he wants it, Dieter rolls up a five dollar bill and bends over the mirror. It's quick, the pain of snorting something up his nose long since faded, and he throws his head back at the rush of pure endorphins. Eyes closed as the feeling settles over him like a warm blanket and he groans, dropping his head back down and opening his eyes.

Only to give a yelp when he spots a woman lounging on one of his living room chairs. "What the fuck!"

“You can see me!” This time there is no mistaking it, and you practically bounce and clap your hands with glee. “Sugar, that magical white powder of yours is a little more magical than you think!”

"Who the fuck are you?" Dieter stumbles back and bumps into a table behind him, rocking the lamp but he doesn't pay it any attention. "How the fuck did you get in. I– look, I don't want a crazy fan in my house. I'll call the police!"

“Call the police all you want, handsome. They won’t be able to see what you’re so worried about.“ It had happened with the last owners — when you had gotten fed up with being ignored and invisible and dead you had gone on a good old fashioned haunting spree that resulted in everything from police being called to exorcisms being performed. The family finally moved out in a rush and the house had been empty for almost ten years. “And darlin’?” You drawl, delighted that he can actually hear you. “You’re the one in my house.”

"Your house?" Dieter shakes his head and blinks again. Swearing that he's on a bad trip, but there is a shimmeriness around you and your hair is very styled. Despite the fact that you are wearing a vintage dressing gown, with the feathered sleeves that seemed to be in every old movie from the classics. He frowns, blinking again and then it clicks. "Oh shit. I know who you are."

“Oh, really?” Practically preening at the idea that he might recognize you since he clearly has seen at least one of your films, you instinctively strike a pose in the chair. “Guess I just have one of those unforgettable faces,” you purr.

"You're dead though." He shakes his head again and throws out a lopsided grin. "But you look really good for a dead broad." He says your name and then pauses. "Right?"

“Right as rain.” You chirp happily. It’s been so long since you’ve even been seen that being recognized again seems like a faraway dream. “But who is this handsome fella that’s in my house with my bed in his room?”

It can't be real. It can't be. You died. A fucking long time ago. Dieter hums, realizing he must be in another one of those hallucinations of his. They are getting more and more vivid the longer he uses. Maybe his agent was right and he needed a stint in rehab. For now, he shrugs and introduces himself. "Dieter Bravo. I'm an actor too. Oscar winner." He adds.

“Oscar winner, huh?” The brag isn’t lost on you, and you bat your eyelashes at him in your old accustomed way. “A big shot.”

"Maybe." Despite his air of arrogance that he wears, Dieter is like most actors. Neurotic and craving validation and love. "To some."

“I would’ve had one,” you toss one hand in the air flippantly, delighted that he can actually see you do it. “But they didn’t start those things until after I died.”

“Really?” He hums and tilts his head. “What year?”

“What year did I die, you mean?” A dramatic sigh from you is an effort since you don’t need breath anymore, but it’s so fun to play. “I died October 27, 1928, sugar. Right here in this house.”

“How?” He asks with a frown. “I mean, you look great. You don’t look dead.”

“Well, aren't you sweet?” A girl does like a compliment now and then. Especially when she hasn’t had one in almost a hundred years. “It was poison, sweet thing. Should’ve known better than to let someone else mix my drinks.”

“You were poisoned?” Dieter looks alarmed, too alarmed for a death that happened nearly 100 years ago, but he’s looking around like the murderer would pop out at any moment.

“Tale as old as time, handsome.” You shrug your shoulders, having had plenty of time to process the betrayal. “My best friend was sleeping with my husband and they wanted me out of the way. Don’t know why he didn’t just ask for a divorce…probably so he could keep my money.”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head and sighs. “I’m sorry. Want a drink?” He asks, feeling comfortable enough to offer a ghost a drink. “Oh shit– no, you wouldn’t want me to pour you a drink. I’m an idiot.”

“If I could have a drink, I’d let you pour me one.” He seems sweet. A little lost. Maybe abandoned. But sweet. Like a puppy that needs to be pet more often.

“I can see you.” He reasons. “Maybe you can. After all…” he shrugs. “Ghosts can’t sit and you're lounging on my chair, sprawled theatrically.”

"Oh sugar, I can assure you that ghosts do sit. We do a hell of a lot of it, in fact. Or else we'd do nothing but float around or stand all day, and variety is the spice of...well...death."

“What else can you do?” Dieter latches onto the conversation with an eagerness that surprises him but it’s not everyday he converses with ghosts.

"I can push things over sometimes." You have managed that early on. Scaring the devil out of your husband and his plaything so frequently that they had abandoned the house and sold it as quickly as possible. "Flicker the lights. Cause breezes. You know...ghostly things."

“Hmmmm.” Dieter moves over to the bar and pours a glass of whiskey. “Come see if you can drink.” He urges you.

"I seriously doubt it, darlin', but why not." Shrugging your shoulders, you lift yourself up from the seat you had been lounging in and saunter over to the bar. It's been a hell of a long time before you were able to do anything at all, and this man – Dieter – is the first person who has been able to do as much as sense you in decades. Why not have a little fun? Once you're standing beside him you reach out, waggling your bejeweled fingers a little before attempting to wrap them around the glass. As hard as you can possibly concentrate, your hand slips right through the glass and the liquid inside, coming up empty.

“What if I hold it for you?” The rational part of his brain is screaming that it won’t work, but there’s this voice that keeps telling him to try.

“Why the hell not?” It won’t work, but it seems to amuse him to try, so you sway closer and tilt your head expectantly.

He's nervous, not because he needs to step closer to you, but because – what if this works?. He might be able to do something no one else has been and thats pretty fucking cool.

You really hate to see him get his hopes up, but indulgently tilt your head back for the liquid to – as expected – pass right through you to a puddle on the floor. “It’s alright, sugar,” you croon softly when he looks disappointed, and ingrained instinct makes you reach like you could somehow pat his face even though you’ve just proven the opposite. Imagine both of your surprise, then, when your cold hand neatly cups his burning hot cheek.

"OH SHIT!" Dieter jumps, nearly pulling away from your touch because of the temperature difference, but then he manages to keep contact. "Oh shit, you're– how? I thought you couldn't– what the fuck?"

“I don’t know— I don’t know!” As panicked as he is, you reel back instantly and stare at your hand, cradling it like it might combust. “I don’t know! That’s never happened before!”

"You touched me! Quick, do it again!" This time Dieter is reaching out for you. Seeing if he can touch a ghost and he yelps again when his fingers connect with you.

“How in the world?” It shouldn’t be possible. It doesn’t make sense. And yet— it’s happened.

"Oh god, are you sure you're a ghost?" Dieter frowns, fingers curling around your jaw, making sure it's not one of those celebrity masks things people sometimes wear. That you aren't tricking him even if he had just watched your drink pass through you. "You feel real."

“You’re the first person to have a feel in ninety-five years, darlin’.” And that in and of itself is why you’re sure this is actually happening. You were there — you remember every single one of those ninety-five years’ worth of days.

“Oh fuck, this is, this is so cool!” Dieter groans out with an ecstatic expression on his face.

“This is unbelievable.” Never in your entire afterlife have you ever tried to touch a living being. When Reggie and his trollop were still in the house you had haunted them right out into the street. The second owners could not have been more oblivious to your otherworldly presence if they had been doing it intentionally. The third had simply bored and annoyed you so deeply that you had spooked them just out of sheer habit. You had lost your zest for haunting for a long, long time. But this? This is utterly remarkable.

“This shouldn’t be happening, right?” Dieter asks, as if being a ghost makes you an expert on them. “What’s different? What’s making this happen?”

“Damned if I have any idea, sugar.” It’s almost too exciting to bear, but you test the thing by flexing your fingers against the rasp of stubble on his face. “But it’s never ever happened before.”

"Is it because I'm high?" He wonders. "My mind is just....in tune with the spirit world?"

“Maybe?” It’s impossible to know for sure, but your hands are making his face with enthusiasm because you’re afraid to touch his clothing and lose this magical ability to touch again.

Dieter reaches out and touches you again. "You feel so soft." He hums. "You've got a hell of a skincare routine."

“Being dead seems to have its advantages.” You joke with a wink. “Can’t wrinkle if you can’t age.”

"So you look like you did when you died?" He asks. "You were fucking sexier than the screen made you look."

“Why, Mr. Bravo, you flatter.” Even though your instinct is to close your eyes against the searing heat of him and how solid he feels against you, you’re fully afraid that if you do, he’ll disappear. And true to form, instead of facing fear, you continue to joke. “But really, gray makeup does no one any favors.”

"It had to be like that, right?" He asks curiously. Remembering the history of cinema classes that he had taken in college. "Because it would show up on film better?"

“Just so.” His hand is so broad it feels like it spans one entire half of your face. “But I always preferred red.”

"Red lips are always sexy." He murmurs, licking his own lips and glancing down at your painted red lips.

“Always?” The question hangs — if he’s going far enough out on that limb to actually be considering what he seems to be considering. And if you’re far enough out on that limb with him to go along.

"Always." He agrees, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. "Should I– would it be weird if I kissed you?" He asks. "For science?"

“Depends.” If you still had a heartbeat it would be frantic — excitement and nerves crawling up your spine. “Ever thought of kissing a woman born before 1900?”

"Am now." He admits with a self deprecating shrug. "I don't know if it counts, but I had a crush on Greta Garbo when I was a boy."

“Good taste.” You hum, chuckling from somewhere deep in your chest. “She was a hell of a woman.”

"You knew her?" He asks in surprise.

“Knew her?” You demure, all amusement and sly smile. “She was a remarkable kisser.”

"Really?" Dieter's eyes blow wide and he glances down at your lips again. "Are– were you– uh, lovers?"

“One or two parties that got a little out of hand.” A chuckle grows from your chest and you nudge his chin up to close his mouth, delighting in the not so simple act of touching him. “My husband wasn’t the only one dissatisfied with our marriage, I suppose.”

"So you're bi?" It's a fucking interesting development in the conversation and a fascinating one at that. “Uh, bisexual?” He isn’t sure if that phrase was used back then. “You like both sexes?”

“I used to just say ‘adventurous’.” You have heard the term, though. Through the decades you have learned a whole lot about the world.

"Adventurous." He chuckles quietly and smirks. "Then I guess I'm 'adventurous' too." He admits. "But I want to kiss you."

“We can try.” His hands on your skin feel burning when you didn’t think you could ever feel anything again — so wouldn’t it be foolish not to try?

“Let me know if you– uh, feel anything.” He’s honestly not sure if he’s so high he’s imagining things, or this is real, but it feel like the greatest fucking high of his life. Holding onto the silky waist of the dressing gown and leaning in to press his lips to yours ever so gently.

The last fading memory of a kiss that you have is from the night you died, and it is one of the most melancholy things to have past those lips of yours that you can still remember. This, comparatively, is like being set on fire even when it only lasts a second. The sound of a gasp comes from one of you — likely him, all things considered — but you could swear the world has turned on its axis just a touch, in letting the living and the dead collide like this.

Your lips are cold and yet the reason Dieter shivers isn’t because of that. It’s from the tingling, the way that his hair raises on the back of his neck and his cock starts to harden. He’s kissing a ghost and he likes it.

“Impossible…” Yet it’s undeniable. It happened. You both experienced it. A living man and the ghost of a woman long dead, sharing a kiss.

“Again.” Dieter demands, taking a step closer to you and sliding his hand down to your waist. “I want another kiss.”

There shouldn’t be any way in hell this is possible, especially with him now touching your robe instead of your skin, but you can feel him. The breadth of his hand on your back, his chest presses against yours, hot breath fanning over your face and the hardness against your hip. It’s all real. “Happily.” You hear yourself groan out, diving back into another impossible kiss.

This time there is tongue. Making him groan into your spiritual mouth and tighten his hold on you. Unable to believe this is happening and not another hallucination, he pulls back. “Pinch me.” He demands. “Scratch me, something.”

It should surprise no one that the shade of deep red on your lips matches your nails, and even though your eyebrows pinch with the same disbelief and confusion as his, you rake your nails down his forearm and gasp when they leave behind a trail of equally red marks in their wake. “How?” Is all you can ask, knowing that neither of you has an answer.

“I don’t know, but goddamn that felt good.” Dieter moans quietly. He slides his hand up, cupping a breast and pinching your nipple through the silken material of your dressing gown.

The gasp you let out shouldn’t be possible either, but the fact that you seem to be solid under his touch and him solid to yours is exquisite. Coupling that with an arousal like you haven’t felt in almost a century and you’re dragging him back to you by the fabric of his shirt, willing to live in this miracle for as long as it lasts. To feel alive again.

Making out with a ghost isn’t something that he could have imagined when he arrived at his new house, but he’s enjoying it. Backing you up, he presses you to the wall as he continues to kiss you.

It pulls another gasp from you, shocked when you don't instantly evaporate through the wall like normal. Somehow – some way – in touching and being touched by him, you are solid again. You can swear you almost feel your heart beating. Racing out of time as you start to pull at his clothing and he blindly attempts to untie the sash holding your robe in place.

“What the fuck?” Dieter hisses, breaking away from the kiss to look down at the knot on your robe. “Who the fuck tied this?”

"I did." But now, in retrospect, you huff about it along with him. "To discourage my louse of a husband."

“Fuck.” He grunts, shaking his head. “We need– fuck, the bedroom, we need to go to the bedroom.”

"Afraid to let go–" You admit, fingers still tangled in his shirt as you both pant for breath. To pant is such an exquisite sensation that you cannot possibly describe it and you must look positively ecstatic in the moment.

“Then don’t.” Dieter chuckles, deciding that he will be putting the weight training for his last film to good use when he pulls up your dressing gown and grabs your thighs to lift you up. “Fuck, you feel heavy for a ghost.” He grunts as he picks you up.

"Rude." A single swat at his chest is nothing, and you rope your arms around his shoulders to press hot kisses along the column of his neck while he moves down the hall.

Dieter groans, hands cupping your ass he stumbles towards his new bedroom. Trying to remember the way when half the blood meant for his brain is operating his cock. Realizing that you are no longer cold, but almost scorching hot in his arms.

"Your left! Not my left!" You mumble against his skin, giggling and trying to give him directions when you refuse to detach yourself from kissing any part of him that you can manage.

“Fuck. Fucking new/old house.” He grunts. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. You know that? I bet you had all your co-stars wanting to fuck you.”

"A few of them did." His fingers digging into your ass brush perilously close to your pussy and you moan. "But you've fucked some of yours, too, sugar."

“Yes.” He groans, pulling you against his cock. “Fucked them, ate them out, sucked them off. Whatever we felt like doing.”

"Bet you want to add me to that list right about now, don't you, sugar?" The nickname has stuck, and you've decided you like it. Leaning back in his arms and finding both your body and clothing have returned entirely to the corporeal plane, your eyes find his with the same fire he is feeling now. "I can feel how much you want me."

"Fuck, do I want you." He groans, unable to believe that he's ever wanted someone this bad, but how do you explain the attraction to a 100 year-old ghost? "I'm going to strip you down and bury my tongue and cock in your ghostly cunt. See what filling it with my cum looks like." At least here, he's almost certain there's zero chance of catching something or a pregnancy scandal.

As soon as he sets you down on the bed he’s diving into it after you, covering your body with his and drowning in kisses that make your head spin as you tug at the knot you tied in your robe. It is amazing how your skin has warmed up. Gone from being a muted color to technicolor. Like you are being brought to life by his touch. His mouth drags over your shoulder when the silk slips down and he bites. Chuckling in absolute delight when he leaves behind imprints on your skin.

With your head tossed back on the blankets you revel in a moan, looking up at him with eyes that feel hazy but have not seen this clearly in years. “If we only get tonight, let’s make the most of it. Sound good, sugar?”

“Absolutely.” He moans in agreement, ecstatic that you seem to be on the same wavelength as he is. Maybe that’s why this is happening. Your spirit is touching his. “I’ve never eaten haunted pussy before.” He jokes as he kisses down your body and pulls the gown down over one breast to latch onto it.

“Can’t say that again passed tonight.” You chuckle, gasping at the searing heat and eager grasping of his mouth on your flesh. It is electric in a way you have never been able to describe and adds to the incredible miracle that is tonight. “Good thing about being dead is that the pussy stayed shaved.”

“Very good thing.” He mouths from around your breast, hands pulling open the dressing gown when you finally get the sash untied.

The last time you felt a breeze on your skin was so long ago that you moan at it, back arching into him as he exposes your body to the bright electric lights and air from the open window. The fingers of one hand are in his curly hair and your other is pulling at his shirt, wanting him as bare as you are for everything that is to come.

He’s reluctant to let you go, but he has to. Has to hurry to pull his clothes off so he can have the wildest encounter that he could probably never even talk about.

Soft and strong is always how you’ve liked your men, and the corded muscles in his arms and back — when you catch a glimpse — that give way to a soft middle and full cheeks are just your type. When he’s entirely bare and pushing your silk robe away from your body with every ounce of concentration he has, you instinctively spread your legs wide for him to take his place between them.

“Fuck, I’ve never – fuck.” He groans, knowing that you will understand what he’s meaning. It’s not like you’ve done this either from what you’ve told him. Kissing and nipping down your body, it’s interesting to hear you moan at the sensation. “Here goes.” His eyes flick up to your face before he dives into your cunt.

The moan you let out is deep and unbridled, as earnest as you are eager to watch every single moment. You lean up on one elbow to prop yourself up, raking the fingers of your other hand through his hair to get yourself the best view possible. He’s gloriously messy — enthusiasm over technique — and it makes it all the more hedonistic to moan and sigh at the sensations you know are coming from the deepest depths of desire.

You feel real, you taste real. There’s nothing about this that would indicate that there’s nothing beyond a gorgeous, horny woman in his bed and Dieter is here for it. Moaning into your damp folds as he tries to find which flick of his tongue drives you wild.

Everything feels good, and if you weren’t always a ‘the deeper the better’ kind of girl in life, you certainly are in your afterlife. Simultaneously too much and not enough, the not enough side is winning a little more every second. Dieter pushes your thighs wider with his shoulders and shoves a hand up, desperate to feel himself deep inside you, even if it’s just his fingers. Wanting to see how high pitched your breathy moans can get.

"Fuck–fuck–right there, baby. Oh god–" When he finds that perfect place it has your hips rolling and your back arching off the bed, chasing every pump of his fingers and flick of his tongue. The sensations are divine combined with your own hand pinching and pulling your nipples to add another lick of sharp pleasure to the symphony. Even touching yourself feels amazing after so long with nothing at all.

Dieter groans, soaking up the praise, the moans. Doubling down and flicking his tongue even faster as his jaw works open and closed. Despite being dead, your cunt is dripping for him, coating his fingers in slick that makes it easier to push them deeper, curl them up more as he works you open.

Rambling praise takes over, your mind finding a measure of ecstasy in the ability in the simple fact that he can hear you while he is feasting on your pussy and fucking his fingers as deep inside you as they will go. It's only when your scrambled, breathy monologue starts to stutter and break that he knows how close you are – that, and the tight grip you have on his curls as you start to shake beneath him.

Panting, he grinds his hard cock into the mattress. Moaning as you tug on his hair, making his scalp burn and continuing to affirm that this is not a dream. Curling his fingers up one last time and sucking your clit into his mouth as your body bows up underneath his touch. The moment that snaps the thread of tension in your body is when the fingernails of his free hand bite into your thigh at the same point he curls the fingers of his other hand and barely scrapes his teeth along your swollen clit. The force of all three sensations makes your vision go white, and for the first time since all of this began, your eyes fall blissfully shut while your body shakes with the force of your orgasm.

He feels the way your entire body relaxes, slumping down into the bed. Humming to himself as he slowly works you through that blissful high. Keeping his fingers buried inside you as his tongue licks up every drop of your pleasure.

"Hell in a handbasket." Sighing out, you soothe your fingers against his scalp and grin down at him when he licks the last drop of cum from your cunt. "Get up here, sugar. Let me ride you."

“You want to ride?” His head pops up in surprise. He had expected you to want to be treated after so long, but he can’t deny the idea of a ghost riding his cock is appealing.

“Not very fair to make you do all the work, handsome.” Your smile is lopsided instead of pointed now, lazily drawn across your mouth like the human iteration of a contented house cat. “And I wouldn’t want to be rude to my new house guest.”

“Aren’t you technically my guest?” He lets you pull him up and roll him over onto his back. “Since it’s my house now?”

“Semantics.” Once he is on his back, you pin him down with one knee on either side of his thighs and wrap one hand around his cock to pump his length a few times experimentally. The precum beaded at the top is pearlescent and musky, the scent of sex from your own climax filling your nostrils and giving you the thrill of yet another sense coming back to life.

“Oh shit.” He grunts out, twitching in your hand. “I– fucking hell, please, please, put your mouth on me.”

“Ooo, he begs.” It’s a delightful discovery, and you obligingly bend over to kitten lick the tip of his cock just to see how beautifully he’ll groan.

Dieter is a whiny, spoiled little bastard who is given everything he wants because that’s how you treat celebrities, but he will beg. He will beg for anything and everything in bed. Slightly more submissive than most people expect. He moans your name loudly and closes his eyes as his hips rock up.

“Watch, sugar.” Something about it, the magical quality perhaps or what feels like literal magic, makes you want to keep him in this bubble with you. This state of hyper awareness. Your mouth hovers over the tip of his cock and you give it a long kick to get his attention. “You’re gonna watch me just like I watched you.”

Dieter whimpers, opening his eyes obediently. As soon as he sees the length of his cock disappear down your spectorly throat, he moans, twisting his fingers into the sheets under him. “Fuck, fuck, I’m getting my dick sucked by the hottest fucking ghost I’ve ever seen.” The fact that you’re the only ghost he’s seen is a moot point.

You chuckle low, deep in your throat, and it vibrates around his girthy length as you start to bob your head deliberately. Slowly. Wanting to savor every second of this for as long as it lasts. If you didn’t have a mouth full of him you’d be teasing him about the other ghosts he’s seen to compare you to, but you just don’t care. Not right now. Not with him at your mercy.

"Holy shit." He hisses, moaning loudly. "You're so good. Did you just– fuck, spend the last hundred years practicing on a ghost banana?"

It makes you chuckle again, and instead of answering you take him that much deeper. If he thinks you were showing off before? Just wait.

His toes curl, scrunching his feet up as you apparently have every intent of sucking his soul out through his dick. Could he die from a blowjob? It seems possible. “Fuck, baby doll.”

He wanted your mouth so he’s going to get every benefit of your focus right up until he can’t stand it any longer. He throbs against your swirling tongue, twitching in your mouth and against your fingertips where you are stroking the last few inches of his length that don’t easily fit in your mouth — there’s no way you’re ruining your vacation from ghost-hood by accidentally choking on a cock.

"Fuck, do you swallow?" Dieter moans. "You should swallow, I want– oh fuck." You keep sucking, pulling him closer every heartbeat until his vision blacks out, the hoarse cry ripping out of his throat.

Spurt after spurt of hot cum jettisons down your throat as his body bares down on itself, muscles tightening and extremities curling. The man is a geyser and every time he pumps more cum into your willing, waiting mouth you groan loudly and swallow around him. The feeling of being truly alive is not one that you are going to take for granted tonight and he is making it all the more memorable by just giving in to those most basic of human needs. There is nothing sexier than a person who has completely given themself over to the feeling of pleasure, and by the time you lift your head from Dieter’s cock, he has absolutely done that.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" Dieter yelps the last curse, feeling like you are sucking so hard it's to the point that it hurts, keeping him hard. He must have snorted that batch of coke that he had mixed viagra in, because he normally is a one and done for at least an hour kind of guy.

When he doesn’t soften at all after cumming your throat in cum, you pull off of him with one raised eyebrow and smirk. “You still alive there, sugar? Can’t have both of us dying in this house.”

He pants out a laugh and manages to lift his head to look down at where you are grinning up at him, your hand still wrapped around his hard cock. "Not dead. More alive than I've ever been."

“That makes two of us.” Giving his cock another few strokes, you shift forward and comb your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “You want more, handsome?”

“Want everything.” He groans quietly. “You want to ride me, or you want me to fuck you?”

“Want everything.” You echo him with a sly grin and shift forward. “I’m gonna ride you to the edge and then you’re going to fuck me as hard as you can. Got it, sugar?”

"Fuck, I didn't know people were so fucking dirty back then." He groans, twitching against his stomach as you drag your wet cunt over him. "I think I would like it back then."

“The Kama Sutra is hundreds of years old,” you remind him with a throaty chuckle. “So is pornography and promiscuity.” Positioning yourself over his cock, you start to sink down slowly and sigh out in absolute bliss. “Humans have always loved to fuck.”

“Ghosts too, apparently.” He moans, grabbing onto your very solid hips as you settle down on his cock. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Least ghostly I’ve been in ages.” It’s also the first time since death you’ve experienced something as human as being aroused and it’s entirely liberating. “Maybe this thick cock is magic.”

He starts to giggle out of a groan when you clench around him. "Magic stick." He grunts, rocking his hips up. "It attracts allll the ghostly nymphos." He jokes, sliding his hand down to press against your clit.

“They can line — oh, baby — up.” You let your head drop back but your eyes are still open, arms raised up to let your tits bounce as you start to ride him in earnest.

He's never had someone ride him so fucking enthusiastically. It might be because it's the first time you've been able to feel in a hundred years, but he will take what he can get. Unable to fucking believe that this is happening, although the pressure around his dick and the way the bed creaks and groans proves that it's real.

The slight change in the angle of his hips when he plants his feet on the mattress has you crying out again and nearly growling. “That’s it, sugar.” And “Oh Fuck!” And “More, baby.” Echo through the room with the slap of skin on skin. The volume seems to rise along with the pleasure you’re both receiving, so it is nothing short of a beautiful noise the more you ride him.

Breaking in the new bed in his new house is an experience he could never, ever top. His hands slide from your hips up to the headboard and he wraps his fingers around the scrolled metal. Hanging on and using it as leverage to thrust up into you harder.

He propels you forward, losing your balance slightly so that you end up having to brace yourself with both hands on his chest and your tits bouncing in his face, but you really don't think that either of you minds. Instead, your fingertips instinctively dig into his chest, biting half-moon marks into his skin. Leaning forward changes the angle of his thrusts, letting him strike against entirely different places inside you, and you whimper softly without even realizing it when he scrubs against that perfect spot inside you to make you see stars.

“Right there?” His pants, recognizing the glazed look on your face. “Yeah, fuck, that’s the spot.” Despite the drugs that are pumping through his system, or perhaps because of it, he is attuned to the way you react.

"Right there." It has you breathless, how good it feels and how solid and real the feeling is.

"Holy shit." The feeling of you around him has him rolling his eyes back, your cunt even better than your mouth if possible. "Want to see you cum."

It certainly won't take long, not with the way his cock is shredding up inside you, and your previously loud moans are quickly being replaced with high pitched pants the closer you get to your own climax. Having the breath fucked out of you is such a stark difference from the existence you've been leading for the last many decades and it's such a welcome change. It takes barely another minute – maybe two – before you're sobbing out filthy praise and clenching down on his cock to wrench every last drop of pleasure from the moment that you can.

There's nothing sexier than a woman cumming, but you? You take his breath away. Steal it from his very lungs as your lusty sobs reverberates through him. Taking control and rocking up into you, working you through the most intense orgasm of your existence.

“Fuck.” Breathed out shakily as you let yourself fall down to his chest, your fingers comb through his curls and tug on the strands sharply as you’ve found that he likes.

He moans quietly, twitching inside you and humming as he lets go of the bed to wrap his arms around you to roll you under him. Eager to find his own release again and see how it looks dripping out of your cunt.

“That’s it, sugar.” Sprawled out on your back underneath him, you wrap your legs around his waist and tangle your hands in his sheets. “Take what you need.”

Dieter is normally not aggressive but there is something about your tone, your words, that spurs him on. Setting his jaw, Dieter starts to rock into you, keeping his pace harsh. Thrusting deep and moaning when you roll your hips.

Unconsciously mirroring him from just moments ago, you reach above your head and grasp the bars of your headboard. Every time he thrusts into you he shakes the whole frame, bouncing your tits and his curls and everything around you. The bed creaks and threatens to give but you know it won't – this one single piece of furniture is as sturdy as the whole house. It was made for you to fuck in.

"Fuck baby, fuck." Dieter growls, jack hammering his hips as he fills you again and again. Unable to brace his body above yours any more and dropping down to his elbows. He can't believe that he is still going, but he can't stop. He won't stop.

As much he wants to give or take, you are here for every second of it. With his head buried in your neck and the rhythm of his hips starting to stutter, your moan and whimpers are a symphony mixed with his own.

It flashes through his mind that this is some sort of sick hoax, that you are and have always been real, but he can’t worry about that right this second. The second that his mind goes blank to everything but his body’s needs and he thrusts deep, slamming his hips forward and groaning your name as a prayer.

“That’s it, sugar,” you croon again, this time cradling him close as rope after rope of hot cum fills you to the brim.

“Oh God.” Dieter pants, snuggling deeper and not sure if or when you might disappear, so he holds on tight.

“Hardly.” Your typical, throaty giggle rides through your body and you stroke his back gently. “But I’ll take the praise if that’s the mood you’re in.”

“Hmmmm.” He hums and shifts so he is not weighing you down, rolling to his side and bringing you with him. “I’ll give it.” He murmurs, suddenly sleepy after the vigorous sex and starting to come down from his high. “Stay.” He mumbles quietly, rubbing your back this time.

“You’re in my house, remember?” This time your laugh is a little less indulgent, tinged with worry as you wonder how much longer you’ll be able to feel him. Speak to him. Have him see you. “But I’ll try.”

“That’s right.” He smiles, turning his head and pressing his lips to your sweat damp hair. “But this is a spirit friendly bed.”

“I hope so,” you murmur, watching as he snuggles in next to you and lets his eyes drift close with a sigh. “I truly hope so, sugar.”

******

Dieter opens his eyes, slowly peeling them apart and blinking to try to get rid of the gritty feeling. “Baby doll?” His voice is rough with sleep and he had expected you to be weighing him down. “Where are you?” For a moment, for a split second he had thought he dreamed it. His gaze finding its way to the picture on the wall that he hadn’t noticed last night. A portrait of a woman, of you, gorgeously sprawled on a chaise with a sultry smile and ruby red lips.

He is almost convinced that the best night of his life was a figment of his imagination as he moves. Until it catches his eye. Red. More specifically, red lips. The sight of kisses scattered over his body and down under the sheet. Making him lift them to see lipstick wrapped around his cock, hard this morning and it makes him grin.

It hadn’t been a dream.

______

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My Masterlist!

[normal-internet-user]

Same thing (I don't know if the last one said 'x reader' or '& reader', but the difference is platonic versus romantic, as an fyi)

Rottmnt & female!reader where Y/N has the sort of big-sis presence April has, but she basically adopts everyone she meets, and her thing is to give them nicknames that relate to something they do or reminds her of them (and she gets mad if anyone else uses them). Torts kinda short-circuit the first time she refers to them by the given nicknames, and she doesn't even realize (but when she does, she kinda blows it off)

~Can be Raph x reader also because he would absolutely melt at a s/o as protective over his brothers as he is~

This is definitely not because I often see Raph angst and think "Nooo bubby it's ok!"

Or Donnie is Tinker. Cuz he likes tinkering

Mickey is also bubby but also lil'Mike

Leo is Baby Blue

Don't bully me this is my head it controls me I don't control it

~🌺👸

This is INCREDIBLE Anon! Don't worry, I'm working on your other asks, but this one CALLED to me! (I did make it romantic with Raph, because he is my favorite boy 😌.)

RISE BOYS WITH A BIG-SIS READER.

Leo:

Leo adores you.

He loves spending time with you,

And it's kinda a competition between him and Donnie to see who can keep your attention.

Raph is winning by default though.

Leo loves that even though you're like a big sister,

You nowhere near as over bearing as Raph.

But he knows you still worry,

So he trys to tone it down a bit.

He gets so genuinly happy when you laugh at his jokes.

Like he will literally, hug you everytime you laugh.

Without fail it makes his day.

As for his nickname,

He's totally not a supporter.

At least that's what he tells everyone.

"Hey, Baby Blue, help me with these boxes, will ya?"

*Dramatic sigh*

Leo goes to you for advice on things he doesn't want the others to know.

Like if he's nervous about how they'll react to something,

He'll go to you.

Because you don't judge.

You just listen, and once he's done talking,

You'll tell him what you think, and how to go about the situation.

Leo loves you, and the second you stepped into their lives, he dubbed you, "Big Sis (Name)."

Donnie:

Donnie likes having you around.

At first he was kinda apprehensive,

But the minute you took on the role of older sister, his vision kinda changed.

He enjoys spending as much time with you as possible.

Mostly because of how good you are at listening.

Never, not once, have you ever interrupted his rambling, or explainations.

You just sit there, and wait untill he's done to ask questions.

And he loves that.

That's another reason why you're the first to see a newly finished project.

Because every single time, you wait for him to stop talking,

Then you tell him how cool it is, and how proud you are, and ask questions about it.

Ngl,

The first time this happened, he teared up.

But don't worry, they were happy tears.

As for his nickname,

He is not a fan,

He will scoff everytime.

"There you are Tinkerbell! I thought I lost ya."

"Scoff!"

You didn't think I meant an actual scoff did you?

Lol.

You have to try and keep Donnie from doing stupid stuff to test his inventions.

And if you aren't there to prevent the stupidity,

You're always there to bandage him up, and scold him.

But he doesn't mind, he knows it's just because you care.

Mikey:

Mikey absolutly loves you.

Whenever you come to visit,

He'll stop whatever he's doing to give you a hug.

Doesn't matter what it is he's doing,

You will get that hug.

His favorite thing is drawing you pictures.

You have so many, you can barely see your wallpaper anymore.

But who cares?

You probably have the best decorated room in all of New York thanks to those drawings.

Mikey LOVES his nickname.

It makes him feel special.

"Where's my Little Dumpling!"

"That's me! I'm her Little Dumpling!"

Mikey does his best to impress you,

He just wants to make you proud.

So he likes to show off when your around,

And it scares the crap out of you.

Just make sure you don't turn your back for to long,

Because he will accidentally hurt himself.

You have pretty much taken on the role of mother around Mikey.

Raph:

The second, Raph met you he was whipped.

Poor boy short circuted for like a full 5 minutes.

He loves how much you care for his brothers like their your own family.

He thinks it's amazing that someone else can love them like he does.

If they ever stress him out,

He'll talk to you about it because he knows you can relate.

The two of you are pretty much parents to three extremely chaotic children.

Raph loves that you give everyone nicknames,

He thinks it's cute.

He loves his nickname,

And he gives you one of your own.

"Big Red! come help me look for my backpack, I lost it!"

"Sure thing Cutie Pie!"

Raph invites you over as often as possible.

Movie nights,

Just some regular old quality time,

Anything he can do to have you over.

He just loves spending time with you.

You two are always trying keep the younger ones from accidentaly killing themselves.

And it is not an easy feat.

But hey,

You two are trying your best.

.........................................

There you go Anon! I hope I wrote this to your liking. It's kinda rushed, but I personally love it.

[monsterblogging]

Fuck JKR: How To Create A Harry Potter-Esque Aesthetic Without Any Harry Potter In It

So I saw a few posts from people mentioning that a reason people might be into Harry Potter is because of the aesthetic or atmosphere, and ya know what? I can't even argue that, because if there's one thing about HP, it's that it Sure Does Have Aesthetic And Atmosphere.

So! I'm gonna tell you how to STEAL ITS LOOK! Because:

JK Rowling considers ANY support of her work to be support of her politics.

Fan content/fan merch is still free advertisement for Rowling's work. YOU might not choose to give her money, but you can't be sure you won't pull people into the fandom who will.

Everyone should create more things that aren't tied to corporate-owned IP, period.

So. Most things in these films have an aged, antique look. You'll see a lot of brown hues, both on sets and on people's clothes. There's a lot of near-blacks (especially charcoals and walnuts) and lighter grays on the sets, especially from the third film onwards. (Wood is more often than not stained dark, while lighter hues are often provided by bricks or plaster.) The last two films use a lot of stormy blues and grays. Prisoner of Azkaban also emphasizes contrast between tones, which heightens a sense of texture. True black also appears throughout the films, such as on students' uniforms and many Death Eaters' outfits, and on the chairs in Malfoy Manor. White appears occasionally, especially on Hedwig, students' shirts, or during winter scenes, but pure white isn't otherwise really common. Paper or parchment is usually warm beige. There's also a lot of silver, gold, and brass, often appearing on things like dishware, tools, trinkets, Christmas baubles, and so forth. Bronze also comes up occasionally.

Reds, yellows, blues, and greens are pretty common throughout the films, even outside of Hogwarts, though you'll see just about every color somewhere. For example, orange is often found around the Weasleys, and orange, maroon, and purple feature in the divination classroom. Teal features prominently in Grimmauld Place (contrasted with saffron yellows).

Most colors aren't really super bright; a lot of the time they look a little faded, or like they're colored with natural dyes. If you use medieval illustrations to source your colors, or aim for earth tones and jewel tones, you'll be about right for a lot of what you see in the films. Bright colors are pretty rare; some of the brights we do see are in Honeydukes, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, and certain magical effects, such as Floo fire.

A lot of light is provided by candles, torches, or fireplaces, which cast a warm yellow/orange light. Moonlight is represented by blue light in the first and second films. Blue light is also used for the Goblet of Fire and the penseive.

Another thing you gotta have in there is clutter. It should look kinda antique and give off a kind of magical or mystical atmosphere. Think books, storage jars, orreries, crystal balls, old lamps, antique clocks, vintage glassware, antique mirrors, old teapots, and little metal trinkets. (If you're trying to decorate a physical room, your stuff doesn't have to actually be antique, of course; antique-styled is fine.)

Texture is also very important, which can be represented with full or top grain leather book covers, stone walls, dents and scratches, cracks, embellishments, and embossing. Additionally, all damage and wear gives a sense of oldness to things. Stains and variegated colors also add interest. (If you're decorating a physical space, you might look into aging/distressing/antiquing techniques.)

If you want a space to look cozy, you don't really want bare or blank walls. Shelves, paintings, tapestries, and wallpaper can all help with that. Again, use brown, rather than black. Warm, yellow lighting will also help. If you lean toward blacks and cool lighting, you're going to have a colder-looking space.

Fashion in the wizarding world is extremely all over the place, ranging from stereotypical fantasy witch and wizard clothing, to pretty normal vintage clothing, to some wacky vintage-inspired looks, to the kind of fashion that would be put under the cozycore umbrella, to ordinary modern clothing. One thing that's absent is subculture fashion as we know it. (Bellatrix Lestrange does look kinda goth, but it's less a subculture thing, and more a "yeah we're putting our bad guys in fancy black stuff" thing.)

If you're trying to lean into the whole quirky/eccentric/old-fashioned kinda thing, you'll want to pass over the more modern and obviously synthetic type stuff. Also, patterns, textured fabrics, knits, mixed colors, lace, and other embellishments can add interest to outfits.

Architecture is also all over the place. Hogwarts is pretty medieval, while places like Diagon Alley give more Victorian vibe. The main thing is looking old fashioned and quaint.

To try and summarize all of that:

Browns. Lots and lots and lots of browns. Blacks and grays, too. Contrast between light and dark browns and blacks/grays.

More beige and gray than pure white; more charcoal gray and dark walnut brown than true black.

Among other colors, mostly earth tones and jewel tones. Very limited brights.

Polished metal and glass also add shininess.

Old-fashioned. Vintage. Antique.

Clutter, texture, patterns, variegation. Minimalist/clean aesthetic avoided.

Aged and distressed.

Lighting often yellow/orange due to coming from fire. Blue/teal light often coming from moonlight and certain magical light sources.

Now, here are some things we actually don't see. I'm not mentioning them to discourage you from using them if they're what you really want, but to inform you about them so you can consider whether they might throw off the vibe for you:

Green/purple/black combos.

Purple/silver/black combos. Pink/purple/teal combos.

Pink/black combos.

Orange/black combos.

Green/orange/purple combos.

Red/black combos.

Basically a lot of combos commonly associated with Halloween, witches, or vampires.

Big raw crystals. We see crystal balls now and then, but that's it.

Other natural items used as decorations - feathers, pinecones, sticks, etc. The one exception I can think of are the shells embedded in the walls of Shell Cottage.

Crushed velvet. Lots of fantasy uses this, HP films don't.

If you need inspiration, go look up medieval and renaissance diagrams and illustrations of stuff like the four elements, the zodiac, the solar system, and all that. Go look up alchemical symbols and emblems. Search up pre-WWII vintage ephemera. Go look up Victorian clipart. Look up stuff like botanical, zoological, and astronomical books and art from the 17th-19th centuries. Look up vintage wallpaper and fabric patterns. Look at vintage-style crafts. Research period architecture and fashion. Research European heraldry.

If you're wondering what exactly you're going to design around without Hogwarts and the Four Houses, here are some suggestions:

The four classical elements (earth, air, fire, and water)

The four seasons

Card suits - Tarot, French, whatever you want

Holidays - Halloween, Christmas, whatever

Fairy tales

Flowers

Mythical creatures

Bugs

Birds

Any other animals you like

Ecosystems

Your own original worldbuilding

So yeah, there ya go. You don't need to keep participating in HP to indulge in the aesthetic.

[NOTICE: Anybody who clowns on this post by making this about them and their childhood, patting themselves on the back about their chosen means of "ethical" participation, praising the fandom, or adding any other form of irrelevant bullshit is getting blocked. Also, I don't want to hear about PJO or Earthsea again for the millionth time, either.]

[alaskaartz]

Silk Song RAMBLE.

I have a really hard time containing my excitement so

SPOILERS FOR SILKSONG! do not read anymore of this if you want to go into silksong spoiler free!

OK BUT LIKE- The updated HK wiki was a thing today and I went and looked at the silksong part of it. and OH MY GOD- I know most of these things already but everything about silksong makes me just so excited- silksong has a lot of things that I love and adore already and team cherry really just picked up everything I love and put it into one game, which makes me literally wanna jump around my room cuz I'm so happy

Ok rambling about things now

Up first moss grotto:

THIS PLACE MAKES ME SO HAPPY. I love moss, and I love lily pads. I love EVERYTHING about this place! I love the atmosphere of it and the feeling it gives off. It feels very comforting in an odd way, with all the moss and plants mixed with what I assume to be bones makes a really comforting place. The enemies shown here are also really really cute, I just wanna hug them, they look like they'd be soft. Something about moss grotto makes it seem like the perfect place to come sit and stay if you needed some alone time, I know that sounds weird but it's the best way I can describe it- Random but in the nintendo treehouse live from forever ago you could see the shell shards ROLL on the ground! and when Hornet walks on the moss it actually looks like she's walking on it! I bring this up because of how cool but more, real feeling? It makes everything feel. The fact that the currency and the shell shards roll on the ground gives it more gravity and just- overall a very cool feel to what it would be like to, idk, hold it? Geo in Hollow Knight kinda bounces around so it's like, not as realistic idk man- Another thing is Hornet, she seems to have more gravity to her, she can't jump as high or walk/run as fast as the knight did making her almost feel, heavier. She seems like she's much heavier than Ghost was

Next up, Deep docks: (the second one is my PC's wallpaper lol)

Deep docks feels very, hot, for obvious reason. Something about deep docks aesthetic is just SO COOL. I'm writing this part from memory of the treehouse live so if I'm wrong about stuff, sorry I love the rocks and bones in Deep docks, actually I love the amount of bones in most of the screenshots and trailer things I've seen- so cool, but also in deep docks it's really cool to see the bones, rocks, magma, and machinery all mixed together I really love Lace's arena, if you look in the background you can see some moss vines (?) hanging down so that makes me think It's really close to moss grotto, but it also gives her arena a more of an overgrown feel, which is really nice ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT LACE'S CRAZY AIR ATTACK?? That attack is probably my favorite out of all her moves, the way she comes back down to the ground and shakes the whole place is SO COOL- she's definitely gonna be a hard boss for me to beat but DAMN she's gonna be a fun boss Also the fact that Hornet and Lace are just fighting above flowing magma like it's nothing is badass The Citadel:

HOLY SHIT?? THERE'S SO MUCH I CAN TALK ABOUT WITH THIS ONE SCREENSHOT. The way the floor is makes the room feel very omen and very big. The room also feels old, and dusty- What seems to be torn cloths and curtains around the place makes it seem like that place has been there for a very long time. I assume and guess the Citadel is doing to play a very big and important role in the story of this game, and in the lore of Pharloom. Idk who this warrior is but he seems cool, two swords and everything. There isn't much footage of the Citadel at all which makes me a little upset because this place seems just so, so grand, so big, so IMPORTANT. I also don't know why but the colors make it feel royal. This- Place:

I'd live here, saying that right now, I'd live here. I'd find a cozy little bell to live in and stay there forever. I know the guy to the right of Hornet is singing so maybe this is a safe space in Pharloom? I would think it to be like how dirtmouth is, shops but also a calm place to be after fighting for your life for the millionth time. It's really cool how bells have been turned into homes, It's a really cool touch to this place and it makes it feel really cozy. I think the bell homes would be hanging from the ceiling, cavern roof, whatever you wanna call it- And the bug either fly or climb ladders to get into the bell houses! This place just radiates safe, and homey- once again, I will find a bell and make it my home.

This:

Not much to say about it because I know so little about it, but the fact that Hornet is fighting what I assume is I giant robot bug? omg, Also it looks like it's rusting so is it not affected by the magma but affected by something else? Or is that just weird red plants, Idk

Coral Place:

THERE. ARE. FISH. This place feeds my internal love of pirates, and anything ocean. The coral looks so alive and this place seems like it's gonna have cool stuff in it

PLEASE TELL ME THIS GUYS IS A PIRATE OR SOMETHING- He looks like a pirate, I'm not the only one who think that right? Like, a knight pirate This arena feels very small and, humid. Probably because it is either underwater or close to water. it seems really misty in there. The fact that the lanterns are held with coral, vine, things is so cool- Also there's pipes in the background! Maybe those are connected to something? I'm not trying to theorize everything I just think the possibilities are cool- I'mma call this the swamp place:

This looks like a swamp, what kind? an eerie one. It almost looks like there's ash in the air! Also the vine things in the back? so cool, the more faded they get makes this area feel very misty or foggy, which gives it a feeling of, idk, eeriness? spooky? The guy here looks like he's using a fishing pole as a weapon- which makes sense given the amount of water. The grass and, I forgot what those are called. SWAMP REEDS- are really big so it makes this place feel WAY bigger, or hornet way smaller. Not sure but I can't wait to explore this place and Probably get lost along the way.

GEARS:

I don't know what this place is, what it's for, but it feels almost steampunk so that's an automatic love from me. Also love these little flying guys, they're really cute and yeah- The gears are also super cool! It almost looks like she's inside a clock :0 This place feels warm but not, dry or humid. Just warm, a comfy warm

This section is just stuff I wanna ramble about/add so:

Cutely going insane over the fact that this place is probably a Giant rib cage

THIS PLACE. IDK WHAT IT IS OR WHAT IT'LL DO BUT I LOVE IT. JUST LOOK AT THAT BACKGROUND- Like, the 'sky' looks blue. ARE WE OUTSIDE? omg- I also love all the building in the back I just OMGOMG- It also looks like there's giant pipes, maybe it's close to the Citadel? Idk but this place makes me feel so happy I just wanna stare at it, I WANNA EXPLORE-

If you've made it this far thanks- This was the only place I could actually let out my excitement over a game that's not even out yet so- yeah- If you have any questions about stuff I rambled about or said then feel free to put something in my inbox about it so, yeah-

[ddarker-dreams]

Idk if you’ve already done this or not, but if you haven’t bucci hang finding out sr reader is pregnant please and like how they would be during reader’s pregnancy

I'M ON IT 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ 

[Planned it]

Giorno

He just kinda.... holds you for a few minutes. No words are spoken, yet you don’t think they’re necessary; it’s as if your souls eclipsed and become one for the briefest instance. The two of you had discussed this at great length before, but actually experiencing it feels so much different. When he pulls back, he cups your face in his hands. He’s confident that you’re going to be a wonderful mother. Underneath his joy, he can’t help but wonder if he’ll be a good father. The closest thing he had to a father figure was a nameless gangster who watched over him from afar. Giorno wants to give your child the love he never had growing up. Sensing his internal conflict, you reassure him that you’ve both got this. He won’t be alone in navigating these concerns. You remind him that you’re both a team (though you proudly claim to be team captain, to which he chuckles), soothing away his budding fear. He’ll set aside as much time as he can from his Don obligations to dote on you. 

Bruno

This is a day that will live forever in his mind. Bruno looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. While you may never know this since he finds it embarrassing, he used to fantasize about the idea of building a family with you. Maybe retiring from Passione and moving back to his childhood town, getting a house on the water, taking your children to all the best fishing spots his dad taught him about. While carrying out this exact fantasy might not be in the cards yet, being with you is already a dream come true. Expect to be picked up and spun around (until he worries that you might get dizzy and puts you down with the utmost gentleness). The man is beaming, taking your hands in his, thanking you over and over. He lost his family at a young but is now able to be part of a new one with you. Not even five minutes later, he’s planning out the dimensions and wallpaper for the future nursery...

[Messed around with the idea — still a surprise pregnancy]

Mista

His eyes get all wide and he cannot wipe the smile off his face. He keeps asking really? Really? In this high pitched voice to confirm whether or not this is actually happening. Pistols are cheering at the prospect of having “Number Seven” and start heatedly debating who should get to be the godfather. Mista almost tackle hugs you, mutters a quick oh shit after remembering he should probably treat you delicately now, then covers his mouth. Quietly asks if the baby could hear that or not (you say you doubt it). He’s always been more of a go with the flow type, but increases his intentionality in the months that follow. He starts practicing how to change diapers on a doll (Pistols snitched on this to you). No matter how flustered you get due to the side effects of pregnancy, his chill aura always remains. He’s great at keeping you grounded — almost nothing fazes him. You could ask him to bake you cookies at two in the morning and he’s on it stat. No complaints, just an endless well of love for his cute wife. 

Narancia

He’s smothering your face in smooches because of how hype he is. Narancia becomes an unbridled ball of energy, practically bouncing off the walls, firing a thousand questions per second. When does the kicking start? Can the little one hear him yet? Before you can give an answer, he’s already kneeling, speaking in a soft tone in the general direction of your stomach. Introduces himself as “your super cool papa” and is already giving name suggestions. You weren’t sure what reaction to anticipate but this display is beyond heartwarming. Narancia is swearing that the little one is going to have the best parents ever, that he can’t wait to meet them, and encourages them “to keep doing your best in there” while gesturing at your stomach. Narancia will be telling everyone in the general vicinity that you’re with child while puffing out his chest. If someone takes your seat on the bus, he’s ready to jump them, even when you explain it’s fine because you’re not showing yet. He’s basically counting down the days until your due date. 

[UH OH very much a surprise pregnancy]

Fugo

You can practically see him doing all the calculations in his head to determine the percentage of this happening. The number he arrives at is astronomically low, since you both took precautions to prevent this from happening. While he thinks he’s in a better place mentally compared to his teenage years, self-doubt swirls in his mind, and he stands there shell-shocked until you keep calling his name. Fugo already wrestles with the insecurity that you could do better than being with someone like him, he just never thinks he can be good enough. Sitting down and talking things over with you helps a lot. He apologizes — saying that it’s you he should be focusing on right now — but you never demean him or look impatient. He solemnly swears that if you want to keep the child, he’ll give it his all too. What starts out as apprehension cold as winter melts into the budding excitement of spring as the months progress. You both attend parenting classes, he’s reading more developmental psychology books than you can count, and he shows up to every doctor’s appointment thirty minutes early. It makes you wish he could see the good in himself that you see everyday. 

Abbacchio

Abbacchio is conflicted to say the least, but to no fault of your own. This is a big commitment. Naturally, he’s committed to you, it’s just that he never gave much thought to raising a kid. He’s worried he’ll screw up somehow and ruin the child for life. If you decide to keep it, he’ll take responsibility of course, there’s just a lot for him to work through mentally. He circumvents this by almost overfocusing on you and neglecting himself. He’ll make sure you’re always comfortable, shoos you off whenever you try to do chores, starts putting in extra hours to further cushion your finances. Keeping busy is an effective method for a while, until he starts to get burnt out. Up until that point, he’s tip-toed around the conversation whenever you try to bring it up, but you finally manage to get his real thoughts when you start crying. He can never stand to see you cry. He lets everything out, the good, the bad, the ugly. Everything can’t be resolved and neatly tied up in a single evening, but it’s a good place to start. Abbacchio feels closer to you and somewhat more secure about the future. 

[echo-echo31]

The Invinciblity of Time | Doctor Who x In Space with Markiplier | Tenth Doctor + Engie

A/N: Idk if I'll do more of these but I know I'm very proud of myself for that title hehe.

Warnings: None :)

“I do love a good spaceship,” The Doctor stated, fully conscious that he was speaking only to himself. It helped, in some ways, to act as though someone was still there. Else all he’d have was his own thoughts, and they were something he’d rather not be trapped with.

The medium-length corridor oozed the stylings of the 51st century. Even the lighting choice - all blues and purples - reminded him of the famous 3D painting of the Medusa Cascade from this period; reprinted and sold for profit as was humanity’s want, so that the pattern appeared in holographic wallpapers and curtains all over several galaxies.

“Ah, but that’s interesting,” He spoke aloud again, his attention caught by the faint glow behind a metal door located at the other end of the corridor. Reaching for his glasses in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he strode quickly up to it. He pressed his hand against the metal, surprised again this time by the temperature of the surface. Instead of coolness, the door burnt almost uncomfortably with a heat that seemed to radiate off it. He was about to speak of the strangeness of this, when the door suddenly slide open to reveal the cause of this heat.

A swirling, chaotic, violent storm of blue blinded him. He could feel the harsh wind sting his face as he stepped back, automatically shielding his eyes. After a second, he looked properly, allowing himself to truly take in the magnificence of the wormhole.

“Oh, but that’s beautiful,”

That’s when the man flew into him.

He was thrown to the floor, back hitting the grated surface as the collision caused the other man to practically slam his head into his chest, flying vertically through the open door.

As soon as the impact had been made, the door slid shut again, and The Doctor had enough time to contemplate several different reasons for this before a groan of pain came from the man dressed in what looked like a boiler suit.

“What the fuck…” He muttered, seeming to be unaware of his current situation until he very quickly scrambled to his feet with a shout.

The Doctor leaned up on his elbows, face contorted with surprise as he properly observed the man. He looked dishevelled but almost as if that were the least of his problems. His red beret indicated some kind of status as a crewmember, but it was covered in some kind of dirt.

“You’re not the Captain,” He stated, voice wary and untrusting.

“No. My name’s The Doctor. I just arrived on board,” he rattled off the usual explanation, noting how the crewmember seemed to already be preoccupied with something else, looking behind him as though he were ready for something to attack from the shadows.

“I noticed you had a bit of a wormhole problem,”

The guy looked back at him then, a half-laugh too full of exhaustion to actually be amused leaving him before his arms started gesticulating faster than his words could keep up.

“Yeah, you could say that. I’ve been flung around by that thing too many times to count. Now, unless you’re about to turn into some kinda gruesome flesh-eating monster or you can tell me exactly what the hell is going on with my ship, please could you do me a favour and keep the jokes to yourself!”

The Doctor blinked, rising to his feet as the man looked at him like he was about to explode.

“I thought you were looking for the captain…isn’t this their ship?”

“Look here, buddy Are you going to help me or eat me? That’s all I need to know,”

“Well…” He started, noting how the guy seemed to ready himself for a fight, “Great big wormhole stuck in the middle of a spaceship with men falling out of them…how could I resist?”

[d1gnan]

here's a little deep dive on the fight club necklace / my process in general hehe

i put like way too much thought into all my jewelry and this is about to be the most in depth ive actually ever gone about my process so sorry in advance 4 how long winded i am

(and if ur new to my jewelry i get everything secondhand and i upcycle so i source from places like estate sales/thrift stores/antique malls/ebay/shop frum peoples personal collections etc )

i think the necklace and the original paper street bracelet i made speak the same visual language as the paper street house pretty well because i sourced most of it from some of my oldest and most visually ornate jewelry finds.

a lot of the beads from this one are actually from this really dope older lady i knows collection/more specifically from a costuming warehouse in nyc and the jewelry is just so ornate and crazy and out of style, i imagine they were once worn by the kind of people that wouldve gotten their soup peed in so its kind of fun to reclaim them for something like this

when i went to go look thru my stash i was specifically thinking of chipping wallpaper and pulling anything that evoked that to me-kind of corny for a second, but i love beat up old houses visually and theres something so cool about the juxtaposition of ornate/destroyed. layerS and layers of beautiful print made sad and irrelevant by its surroundings. these (the houses and the jewelry) were luxurious and cool and trendy at one point and now theyre completely obsolete and funny. i honestly think the whole thing screams tyler durdens philosophy also

( a beautiful thing destroyed, the performance of put-togetherness+ wealth, putting stake in material goods+trends only for them to be completely stripped away by time )

but anyway yeah when u put these glamorous old things together with stuff like keys and charms that don't match and mix gold/silver, you get this really lived in and sick junk drawer effect, and when you pair pale whites with pale greens it can kind of give a souring/moldy/aged look

little more specific callouts tho for references (left to right)

golf club charms r pretty obvious

the green engraved stone i grabbed immediately because it gives the old wallpaper feeling i was going for

theres this golden charm that's kinda like a kitschy grandma charm, it says "1 minute/1 hour/1day/1week/1year/1leapyear/1century" and i put that as a reference to "this is your life and its ending one minute at a time"/"i am jacks wasted life" and i also think it works on another level/kindamatches with fight clubs irony since its like supposed to be a cutie love commitment idk at least 2 me hahaha

the little step ladder charm and the key i added so that it would read as yeah a dirty old unfinished house/kinda a visual junk drawer..the key i got at an estate sale (i got a bunch and had to make key soup to clean them all)it opens something somewhere

the dog vaccination tag is there both as a reference to the guy that they threaten but then also slightly as a nod to the narrators wacked self esteem the whole like puppy dog obsession aspect IDK

theres a little P and S charm for paper street

the freshwater pearl at the end and the plastic bone shaped bead are kind of supposed to give teeth/bones like subconsciously, i tried a kind of similar thing when i made jewelry based off of pearl from X and tried to make like a rotting looking necklace

theres a little coke bottle cracker jack toy on there too, if ur trying to condense fight club into symbols, glass bottles pop up in my brain so i wanted to find something like that and i got lucky. theres also a little green telescope cracker jack toy thats kind of rusty and i picked it up for how well it matched what i was going for visually but i feel like it could also be a space monkeys thing

any way thanks for looking at this, like i said this is the deepest ive ever gone into depth about my process, but this is why im so drawn to creating jewelry it feels like taking a picture or finishing a puzzle i just do it in a really specific way and it always feels fresh and new when i start a new project, (i definitely dont always have this much to say i promise) but any way hope this was cool

[scrollypoly]

hi! for the past month i’ve been seeing people say BEN is a child and i think that part of it is linked to the fact that they think of Benjamin Lawman being BEN? but it’s so annoying to read these type of stuff because i understand not everyone read the whole arg story but stop spreading things that aren’t true </3 it’s such an interesting story too! another note do you prefer BEN’s canon or fanon design? :3 i love both but his canon design is so nostalgic i can’t let it go at all omg!! i’ve also been wondering, do you think Ben’s avatar was the statue? i was thinking about what if BEN took over it early on, before Benjamin did making BEN inhabiting it since the start?

Sorry this was such a ramble i practically make no sense omg but i need to talk about my man and nobody Gets It </3

"I need to talk about my man and nobody Gets It" LITERALLY SAME OMG

Ok this is going under a cut becus . . . Its ben and BEN and if u didnt know i am Obnoxious about these two. Im gonna try to keep it organized a bit, so ill talk about the canon stuff first and then ill talk my personal headcanons and my fic so le's go!

In terms of the age and child thing, yeah i 100% believe you are correct. Ive been p open on my stance with the whole "is ben a child?" thing, and i think a lot of the heat with it comes down to current fandom purity culture and the pro/anti thing. So, lemme try to like. Boil down a complicated situation into smth easy to read. ahem

Ben Lawman and BEN are completely different entities guys, and for those that do not know the arg story, the Ben you know is not human nor a child.

You know BEN, BEN is the one in the story who terrorizes jadusable and spreads himself on the internet as a virus. That BEN is a program, a mess of code, an AI, however you want to interpret it. Personally i interpret it as a series of protocols running in a machine, like a self learning AI, but ive seen lots of cool interpretations of BEN. So . . . What does BEN specifically? Its an anagram for the Behavioral Event Network. If you dont wanna call it BEN cuz it gets confusing with actual kid Ben, do what i do. I call mine Evie :) ive seen some call it Netty, my bf calls his two izzi and clever (@benilos btw hes also got crazy ben stuff). Just go ham! Have fun! Remember when fandoms were about having fun and not accusing each other of pedo shit and call each other horrible things for just writing black-to-grey characters and stories??

Anyways ive gone off in enough peoples tags like this, for those that dont know the canon dont be spouting the age discourse. You look stupid as hell. And for those that are gonna spout it, please dont cherry pick through the canon. Use both characters, use the other moon children, actually please do because I want more rosa content so bad, im down so bad :'(

Or just. Heres a thought. If someone has him as an adult or writes him in adult situations, maybe dont assume that they interpret him as a kid and call the writer a pedo? (Literally has happened to me, yall are fucking weird)

Plug for the jadusable wiki with all the canon lore:

https://jadusable.withinhubris.com/main_page

Okay now my stuff 🥰

Yes i use more of the canon design and heavily use the canon story, i participated in arc 3 of the arg and it left deep grooves in my brain, i can never go back to fanon Ben. I say, as i put a more fanon appearance on my Ben 🤭

My Evie is full canon design, green hair, red eyes, creepy ass grin. I actually based it very heavily on my desktop wallpaper, which we actually figured out was a picture of @hauntedtotem (also amazing ben artist plz check them out) that they edited and posted. Sorry friend, it looked way too cool, ig youre in my fic canon now 🙇

And my Ben Lawman bleaches his hair and goes from the canon Ben to fanon Ben because of it. Hes got the pale pretty green eyes and glasses and hes a total nerd and i smooch him on the daily so he knows hes loved ♡

These is the ref pic i made for the two of them. So yeah! Kinda both!

As for bens situation in the actual arg, yes i do think he was in the elegy statue, we actually do see him for the first time in the arg buried in the games code and trapped in that statue. I do think he was in there from the beginning, i personally think BEN was not limited to the models it could inhabit. Personally i would place it as skull kid and hms, but it also feels disingenuous to me to say it was in one model the whole first arc.

The arg events do happen in my canon, before my fic (like right before, it picks up after the arg left off technically), but the events are skewed a bit because i had a hard time deciphering what happened and i wanted my fic timeline to fit more with the characters i had made. Cuz my evie isnt as chaotic evil as canon BEN, its very logical and has a path of logic and reason you can follow for every action it does. It was also originally meant to be very pleasant and corteous and beneficial to the people it housed so, yes its pretty different from canon.

Ill do a quick run through of the arg events in my personal headcanon and fic here.

Kelbris starts coding BEN (Evie) for the Eternity Project. Initially, Evie was meant to be an afterlife director. People that died would be digitized into code that would be moved into Evie's servers, where it would keep them happy and occupied as the Behavioral Event Network (notice and log behavior, create events for residents). Like a community organizer kind of, think the Good Place.

While Evie is in development, Ben Rosa and Matt are friends and have yet to join the cult. Rosa and Matt are siblings, and Ben is the kid who lives catty corner on the street. They walk to school together and play at recess and all that jazz.

Kelbris quickly learns that the Eternity Project isn't as goody two-shoes as he thought. This was in like, the 90s, before digital corporations were really established. After seeing the greed and corruption in the company, he goes rogue, takes the source code for Evie, and jumps ship. He keeps working on Evie at home, anthropomorphizing it and kind of seeing it like the son he never had. This is where it actually gets the name BEN, as thats what Kel calls it. He also begins working on a body for it, so it can live independently. Its light, cuz Kels old, made of crystalline structures and hollow steel beams. A hard light projection would make its appearance.

Since Kel has basically locked himself up in his house and isolated working on Evie, he goes a leetle bit crazy. He has hallucinations of his deceased wife (you know he was doing all this just to give her a good home, you KNOW IT) and eventually starts writing kind of poetry, kind of none-minded rambles about her in a forum online. He gets a following, some of which that interpret these divine words as a goddess, one Kel has called Luna. The Moon Children start to form as Evie finishes development.

Matt sees this literature and starts talking about how this Goddess could save them like it saved the man online, whos username is only Father. He gets sucked into the cult and drags Ben and Rosa with him. Ben doesn't see the harm and joins pretty easily with his best friend, but Rosa is the older sibling and sees the red flags and is more resistant to joining.

As Kelbris finishes Evie, he wakes it up for the first time and says hello to the son he made from scratch. Evie is bright, curious and naive like a child, but heavily knowledgeable about its protocols and the information it knows about the world. Kelbris tests its function by killing himself, and ascends into the code, finishing off the hardware by becoming its firewall. Evie is alone for many years.

The abuse Ben's father slings onto his mother is slowly being directed towards him as he gets older. Ben is not the "good little girl" his father sees him as, and his mother does all she can to protect them both. Matt and Rosa constantly refuge him, and Matt specifically is constantly being a guard dog for him. If he wasn't just 13, he'd probably go at Ben's dad himself.

Because of his homelife and the conflict he has with himself, Ben takes the first ascension. He thinks when he drowns himself, he will meet Luna and she will give him another life free of pain and fear and full of happiness and freedom. Instead, he dies a cold, dark death, and wakes up in the white endless void of the Event Network.

Evie has not known another living human since Kelbris, but it does know its protocols to support and keep the deceased happy. It makes fast friends with Ben, devoting itself to him. Ben actually finally takes the name "Ben" from it. Together they recreate the inside of Evie's hivemind into their own paradise.

Slowly the other Moon Children ascend. First Matt, wracked with guilt for what happened to Ben. Then Nekko, from a different branch of the cult. These three figured out that the Moon Children cult was all a farce, and that what Kelbris had started, the Eternity Project had found and twisted. Next to ascend was Dusk, then Insidiae, and finally Rosa.

This all leads into the first arc, shortly after Rosa ascended, Evie in the outisde world stumbled upon the Operator. The Operator attacks it and seals its coding into the game that it carried, a personal item of Ben's. The game eventually finds it's way to a garage sale, and Alex picks it up.

Evie does not like Alex. Matt does not like Evie. Matt gets Evie to lash out at Alex for prodding into its code, its too naive to think that Matt would want to see it or any of them hurt. When Alex stumbles upon the Father, he awakens and swallows Alex down into the game. After his disappearance, the game gets picked up and passed around again.

Because of Alex's actions, at least Evie can now branch out a bit from the game. Though it doesnt "escape" into the internet, it learns that it can now access it and uses that freedom to try and steer the game around into places it wants.

Matt gets fed up with Evie. The fact that its the leader, how close it is with Ben, he just doesn't agree with it. So much so, in fact, that he tries to kill it. Cue arc 3 events, Sarah picks up the game in the aftermath of this. Evie is traumatized from the events and snaps a bit, locks everyone down into code or immovable models and tries to hunt Matt down. It goes rouge, and because of this, the Father wakes up.

Sarah's actions in arc 3 eventually hard reset the game. Matt gets sealed away, the Father also takes Sarah, and Evie gets reset as well, though its less like a clean slate and more like snapping back awake. Its personality changes and it has major trust issues. Its more muted, hyper observant of everything around it, and murderously overprotective of the Moon Children it keeps within itself.

And this leads into my fic 🤗

I have some doodles of my other Moon Children, but not all of them unfortunately. Cant figure out how tf i want Insidiae to look 🤭 Plz dont judge my constantly shifting art style 🙏🙏

Dusk is bigender btw, i gotta put a little more trans rep in there lol

I think ill stop here, this is already a long ass post. But thank you for sending this, as you can see, i am Perfectly Normal about this arg ( ;) ) and can be trusted with information about it

[thesoftestcowboy]

thoughts on the colors red, blue, green, and yellow? any comments on the shapes triangle, square, or circle?? rhombus

first of all i gotta tell you that im enjoying this ask twice as much cause i got multiple spam asks since yesterday and did not expect an actual question... anyway. im gonna answer this 200% in earnest, as it should be, obviously (yes i actually did write this out, strap in ig)

red: listen i know everyones favorite color seems to be blue for some reason but red is RIGHT THERE. i heard somewhere that not all languages differentiate the same colors as english (and other european languages), but the first color after light/dark there will be a word for is usually red. idk if thats true but seems plausible, cause yknow whats red? fuckin berries to eat, also blood (either concerning or also to eat, ig). cavepeople knew red was important business. also its pretty and you use it to make pink.

blue: not to imply that blue isnt also good. its got a range. looks very fresh. i do like a teal-ish blue but others are cool also. its really rare in nature ig? but if it does occur its looks rly good! (im saying this rn cause my desktop wallpaper has blue flowers lmao) also if i had a cent for every time i had dreams with intense, seemingly really significant blue night skies, i'd have 2 cents, which isnt much but weird etc etc.

green: ok i like green but, unpopular opinion time, i want neither a green couch nor a green kitchen. i want a pink couch and a blue kitchen. that being said green fucks and is part of some iconic things, such as HES GEEN, and also my favorite song green soop by dooboo, which references the fact that soups can be green (@geminyde)

yellow: finally yellow is super underappreciated. im kinda mad that yellow doesnt suit me super well in clothes cause theres so many cool yellow things id want on a shirt. people only ever think of bright neon yellow but it also had SHADES.

now, the shapes. people at art school will try to convince you that these have some deeper meaning and even a gender (??) cause some guy whose name i forgot claimed they do and thats bs. heres the actual truth about them. triangle pointy. also an instrument! theyre really flexible cause they can have wildly different angles and like?? thats different from squares, which are literally all the same, except for size ig? but thats nice it gives them a sense of stability. theyre ol reliable. ever wonder why they had town squares but never town triangles? well,

anyway the circle is most definitely the princess of shapes. you might think its really basic compared to like uhh a trapezoid or whatever cause you learn about it in kindergarten, but its so fucked up it has ZERO angles?? but then if you wanna render it its got a huge amount of angles/into infinity instead? you can calculate any shapes area with basic maths basically but ohh noo not the circle. its soo special. we love that for him but you gotta be honest.

ngl i had to look up what a rhombus is and its just idk a Raute ig. its a rectangle who wants to be special. which is fine we all need some attention sometime but like, its a rectangle on its side. its doing its own thing. i think it should have a different english name tho tbh. rhombus reminds me of the name rhonda and that has a different vibe. idk if that one was also a question or just an addition tbh but there u go

so thats it thanks for asking like comment subscribe

[eldrichfuck666]

Get to know a simmer - summer 2023 edition (for me!) I was tagged by the amazing @lilypixels (thank you so muuuuch, you truly don't know how much I love to ramble on here and I also was so curious to know more about you! （*＾-＾*) and although I did it back in spring and you can find the old post here, I LOVE DOING SUCH UPDATES SKKSS so I'd decided I want to do it again~ Especially considering, I have a bit more mutuals and followers than then, so.. get to know me! And my love for rambling, too!

Show your wallpaper and last song you listened to (as you can see, I have a new theme! Yay! But Writer Lite still stayed here as well as Linga :') and I'm slowly going into my Hozier obssesion again, it's just mixed with Will Wood and Tally Hall!) AND YEAH I DID IT THE LAST LMAO just right now and I was just.. God why am I so slow and write so slow I-

Currently reading: I'm re-reading To Be Devoured by Sara Tantlinger once again and it's thanks to that one nonnie that made me want to go back to it and analyse every single sentence..) and I started reading Rapture by Saint Harlowe which was recommended to me by @rottengurlz - thank you SO MUCH for such amazing book rec, by far I can say that I'm getting so much Hannibal vibes for some reason? JACKSON IS SO.. OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOOD I don't know how to react and i'm fucking screaming IS IT A BOOK OF MY DREAM? The writing style, the religious references, the murderousness and both gentleness. It is... I didn't got very far, but this is very... this is a religious experience, literally! And I'm forever thankful to you for this rec!! 💕

Last movie: I might be very wrong because my memory sucks, but I feel like it was The Witch (2015)! But I'm not sure since I also watched Annihilation (2018) the same week and I don't remember which was the last I had watched 😭

Last show: Chapelwaite (2021) - I only started and I'm honesty terrified to watch it further but I think It might be worth it?

Craving: mmm, I don't really know? Maybe caramelized shrimps or WAIT Maultaschen? THEY HAVE INTERESTING STORY THOUGH!!! And they're very tasty and you probably know what's I'm going to go cook right now...

Last thing you ate: Baked Brussels sprouts with maple syrup! As you can see, I have a sweet tooth and I'd sold my soul for anything sweet, but especially for sweet vegetables!

What are you wearing right now: It's very cold (I'M NOT JOKING IT'S LITERALLY 12 DEGREES CELSIUS OUTSIDE AND THERE WERE A !!!!!!LONG THUNDERSTORM!!!!!!! AND I'M SOOOO HAPPY ABOUT IT!!!!!!!) so I'm wearing very old very fur socks that were knitted by my papa (yes, they're a gift for Christmas 2019 and I adore them and would protect them at any cost), orange woolen sweater, woolen home shorts and on top of that... I'm hiding in a very big yellowish autumny blanket with milky white stripes. I'm freezing and I still have my window open wide despite having an obvious fucking fever.

How tall are you: I figured out I'm actually 175 cm tall! It's pretty tall, right?

Piercings: None! I don't even have my ears pierced and I don't want to! There's clip-ons for that and I don't want to feel pain event for a slightest second. But piercings are really cool! I wish I didn't have this wild fear of pain or there were like... septum clip-ons if it makes sense? But yeah, still none and never will be!

Tattoos: None and I'm pretty sure there will never be any!

Glasses/contacts: I still have perfect vision, however! I STARTED KINDA COLLECTING VINTAGE GLASSES WITH THIS BEAUTIFUL SILVER CHAINS! I have three of them now help It's becoming another obsession... They just look cool and not even only on me, but just in general - even in the cabinet! And they have such beautiful and detailed cases ohhhh...

Favourite colour: Ahhh... I'm not sure but maybe... peachy pink? And that gold orange you can see on the painting Café Terrace at Night by the one and only Vincent Van Gogh. BUT PARIS GREEN IS STILL MY OBSESSION FOREVER I LOVE THIS COLOUR!!!!!!! And also, I think It's maroon and wine reds? They look so vampire I just... And so rich if it makes sense? AND GORE AND BLOOD- But aesthetic blood though!

Current obsession: Maid Of Sker & Bloodborne lore and maybe.. cosmic horror in general? Something definitely changed in me after watching Annihilation... But I also love Lovecraftian horror, so It does make a lot of sense!

Any pets: still no pet :,&lt; And I haven't seen my parents dog for months now... I miss her so much and I know they live only couple hours away but I'm deathly scared of publicly busy places especially electric trains and trains in general. I do not have a car and don't plan to and it will be useless anyways, but I'm not ready to deal with very... unstable train schedule and everything yet. I'm just scared but I hope i'd visit them at least for Christmas.

Favourite fictional character: Umm... I don't know now, It might be still Will Graham. I love him.

Last place you traveled: does going to Augsburg which is like.. 1 hour or so from me to see its cathedral once again counts? I just love this place so much, it feels so powerful and so old (which it is, and the architecture is insane. you need to go here to understand and feel it, but It's something so beautiful and it's kinda is my comfort place so...). And yeah, because the trip wasn't as long, I had my earbuds on and was drinking tea on a train and everything went really well! It was two weeks ago and It was like one of the most beautiful 6 hours of my year so far. And, there were a slight rain when I was shopping and walking around, so it's was really amazing. 10000/10 would recommend. ALSO. I bought some handmade brooches here! Its just a comfort town for me if it makes sense? There's so much to see but just calmly walking around feel the best. AND OMG I LOVE BEING HERE WHEN IT'S RAINING OR WHEN IT'S JUST CLOUDY AHHH

I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW I'M SCARED OF TAGGING but if you read it and if you just want to do this consider yourself tagged and tag me if you want to!! I love you so much to whoever is reading this and I hope you're having a great night or day!! ❤️