#i had to ask the seller for photos and it has what looks like an f8 written on the cover with white pencil

[beehop]

ugh got an offer auto rejected on ebay and now i feel like i was an asshole for lowballing as much as i did. hate it here.

[fangweaver2099]

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM

 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 

“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 

You blush.

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

NINE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: I have STILL not seen the movie because it hasn't premiered here yet!

“I just think about him a lot. I'm sorry, I don't have the right to do that; I haven't even met him; I just believe I would have really liked him…”

I sat opposite Lotti by her little table with Eric's photo albums in front of us. Sneakily, I had put back the photos I've stolen because I didn't need them anymore.

I shouldn't have been there; I was lying to her in the most awful way, but I also went behind Eric's back to find out things he didn't want to tell me. I had the answers right there, and my curiosity took over.

“You know, I think he would have liked you too. You have a curiosity he would have liked. You feel comfortable with yourself, but with optimism and creativity. He would have liked that,” Lotti said with a smile. She had a good day today and talked about Eric with a smile. I smiled back at her by her words, but the warmth in my chest was from the memory of hearing Eric say “I love you” to me. He had said it that morning on the phone. I would go to him later that night; he worked late that Saturday, so I didn't have a reason to go to him that early, but I had a key to his apartment, so I didn't need to wait for him.

“Can't you tell me more about him? Why do you think he started to take drugs?”

Lotti looked out through the window and smiled sadly. It felt like she had a need to talk about everything, and I was right; my simple question made her tell me stories I never thought I would hear.

×××

Lotti looked at the little boy in the playroom, through the plexiglas. He wore a striped long-sleeved shirt in green shades and red sweatpants. The clothes were a bit big and looked well-used, probably from other kids social services had rescued from dysfunctional homes. He was two years old but lacked the chubby cheeks other two-year-olds would have but also was disinterested in the toys surrounding him. A white rabbit stuffy lay just in front of him, but he didn't give it a look; he just looked around. A young social worker sat by his side and looked at him with wonder. He looked like a doll with his big green eyes, and he sat just as still with his small hands resting on his thighs.

“He can't stand up yet or crawl, so that's probably why he doesn't play,” said the social worker next to Lotti and her husband Eric. They nodded a little even if something else felt wrong.

“Why can't he do that? Does he have a disability?” Eric asked the social worker and looked at baby Eric again. He hadn't moved an inch.

“No, no. He's healthy. Just a little underweight and some rashes. Ehm… We believe he hasn't left the crib very often. Most of his time had probably been spent alone in the bed-”

“What? Has his mother left him in the crib?” Lotti looked between the social worker and the boy, upset.

"Yes, but that is nothing that will shape him. He's so young, so that's nothing you’ll need to worry about.”

The social worker said it with assurance, even if there wasn't any research on the subject in the 90s.

Lotti nodded but felt a lump in her throat.

"His mother is sentenced to six months in prison for drug trafficking, but we believe she needs help with the boy after that too. She must make changes to be able to get him back.”

Lotti was sure. She didn't need to know any more. She wouldn't leave that boy to his destiny. They had room for one more child in their home, and Eric, her husband, earned enough money as a seller in the technology field. It was a business growing every day, and his salary went up with it. He looked at Lotti with a calming smile. He knew his wife had already made a decision, and he felt the same. They could give the boy the security he never had. He looked at the papers, seeing the boy’s name, the surname they shared. It felt like a sign. He wasn't the religious type, but Eric was a family name, a name passed on with love and respect.

The social secretary opened the door to the room baby Eric was in, and the married couple saw him look towards it with a fast movement. They walked in slowly to him, afraid that their presence would scare him, but he sat the same way and looked at them with big eyes. Carefully, Eric lifted up the boy in his arms, and Lotti moved close to them. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking at them. He looked sad but with a calm curiosity.

“Hey Eric, hey sweetie…” said Lotti. He looked at her the same way, but his eyes gave away so many emotions. Lotti dragged a finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear. For her, it was impossible to think that the boy's mom didn't want to take care of him; he had an aura—a much stronger aura than other kids his age had. It was just something with him. Lotti looked at her husband, who had pulled the boy closer to his chest. Both could feel it in their bones, and they could see in the other's eyes they felt the same thing. This boy was theirs. This boy was theirs, and they would do everything in their power for him to only be theirs and save him from his mother and all the darkness.

×××

Little Eric stood on a chair by the sink next to Lotti. He was quite short for his four years but had a personality bigger than other boys his age, and so lovable Lotti could see how others envied her. He stood and washed the dishes with her and laughed while playing with the bubbles. He always wanted to be close to them, always wanting to help.

“You're so good at this, Eric!” Said Lotti with a laugh when he gave her a completely clean glass. Eric laughed again so she could see the deep dimple in his cheek. She kissed it hard and dragged her fingers through his messy hair. In just a few hours, he would go to his biological mother and then come back to them as a shell again. He never told them what happened at his mother's, and that was what made it harder for them to do something. There was no proof the bruises on his little body were from something else than rough playing, but Lotti knew her boy so well, his games well, and it wasn't bruises from the playground.

Lotti woke up from her thoughts when she heard her other son in the living room. He was playing video games and made sound effects for the game. Eric looked towards the living room, and when Lotti did it too, he waved with his little hand, showing that he wanted them to look at what Robin was doing. He always wanted skin-to-skin contact, so Lotti pulled him up on her hip and carried him out to the living room. Robin gave them a bit of an irritated look but wiped it away when his mom dragged her fingers through his hair.

“Are you winning?”

“Yes!” He screamed proudly, and Lotti giggled at him. She looked at Eric, who didn't seem to find the game amusing, and instead looked out from the living room's big window.

“It's sunny…” he said with a small voice. Lotti often got the feeling he didn't dare to use his full voice, and he almost whispered when he talked.

“Do you want to go out? Should we go out and draw a little?”

Eric nodded and dragged his hand over her neck. He was soon five years old but felt both younger and older at the same time.

They moved out to the back of the house, in the early spring sun. She could see Robin through the window and, at the same time, make the last few hours of Eric's time there the best she could. He sat in her lap, drawing whales and colorful birds. He was great at it and could disappear into it completely, but not today. She knew he knew what would happen soon. How they would put him in the car and drive him to the social service office, where his biological mom would get him. She knew he would cry in panic and how the social worker would need to pull him away from her neck. She knew Linda would look smug when she left with their son, not because he wanted her more, just that she was his mom, whatever they said. She didn't need Eric's love; she just wanted to win.

Lotti knew she would cry the rest of the day and think about what Eric did at his mom's place. She wondered in what state he would come home in. Eric hugged her hand hard in his and looked up at her with his big soulful eyes. They were shining with tears.

“I love you, mommy…”

It was a plea, a cry for help, but she couldn't do anything. She took a deep breath so she wouldn't start crying and hugged his little body against hers.

“I love you too, Eric. My baby, my son... I love you most in the entire world.”

×××

It was the third meeting they have had with Eric's school that year. Becoming a teenager was not easy for him, and it revealed sides in him they hadn't noticed before.

He had been such a calm child, and after he stopped seeing his mother, he also started to feel safe and comfortable in his own skin, but instead of those sides growing in him, other things took over.

While some teenagers became a bit moody, he got depressed and had a hard time getting up from bed in the mornings. When he finally was in school, he couldn't concentrate and did things you should absolutely not do in a classroom. Playing with a lighter and burning things up was his favorite, painting on the walls another. Even if all his teachers saw that he was a nice boy with serious problems, they kicked him out of the classroom, and Eric found himself chain smoking and listening to music that matched his mood. He was lonely. Extremely lonely, so when the wrong sort of people stretched a hand out to him, he was quick with taking it.

“We haven't seen Eric for a week now. If it continues like this, we're forced to call social service,” said the principal and leaned against his desk. Lotti looked at her husband and sighed deeply. It was always heartbreaking to hear about how Eric slowly destroyed his life. She knew it wasn't his fault. His biological mother had probably taken substances while pregnant; he had trauma since his childhood with her, and on top of that, he had such severe panic attacks that he had cried for death.

“Eric is a lovely young man and is really appreciated as a person-”

“So why don't you help him more? The only thing you do is throw him out of the classroom! Why should he go to school when no one wants him here?” Lotti said, upset. The principal gave her husband a look, like he thought he should calm his wife down, but Eric felt the same thing and looked at the principal with an angry look.

“We must think about the other students... You haven't thought about maybe taking Eric to a doctor? To get some help with his... problems?”

Lotti looked down at her hands and sighed deeply. She knew they probably needed to do that, but pulling him away to a doctor felt awful. He didn't need that on top of everything else.

×××

Robin always came home from school alone, even if they had told him to drive his brother home. They had given him a new metallic red Mercedes, and it’d been clear that he would give Eric a ride home. Robin always said Eric wanted to go home by himself, and their parents didn't know what to think. Eric liked being alone, but it was a long way home. Lotti looked at Robin disappear to his bedroom with two girls laughing while she sat down by the window. She worried the whole day for Eric and how the medications would affect him. He was such a sweet boy, and she didn't want to destroy that with all the pills he had been prescribed.

She smiled a little when she saw him come walking. He looked like a black raincloud in his black zip hoodie, black jeans, black hair, and black eyeliner around his eyes. He carried his khaki backpack on one shoulder, full of pins from different bands and motifs made to provoke. Still, the kids on the street jump around him. Eric smiled a little while they tried to impress him with their skateboards and MP3 players. Lotti got warm in her chest. It was just something really special with him, and everyone liked him.

“Hey mom!” He shouted when he came in through the door.

"Hey, honey,” answered Lotti and walked out to the hallway to meet him. He had pulled off his hoodie and surprised her with a yellow t-shirt, a sex pistol t-shirt, and he had put his converse neatly on the shoe rack.

He gave her a hug, like he always did when he came home and Lotti took his hand. They needed to talk but were interrupted by Robin's laugh. He came down with his two girlfriends, and Lotti let go of Eric's hand to not embarrass him in front of the older girls. They giggled when they saw him, and he got red in the cheeks and ears.

“Hey Eric,” said one of the girls, and the both of them giggled. Robin rolled his eyes.

“Don't forget to come home for dinner,” said Lotti to her oldest son while her younger son stood looking down on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah!” He answered and opened the door for the girls. Just before he closed it, both Lotti and Eric heard one of the girls say, excited:

“Your brother is so fucking cute!”

Lotti looked at her youngest son, who smiled embarrassed but tried to hide it from his mother. She smiled at him, amused. It was true; he was cute, and she knew he would be more than that one day. She wished she didn't need to have the talk she needed to have with him—let him bask in the girl’s words—but instead she needed to take him to the kitchen, where his medications stood in a row.

“So this is for your ADD, this is the antidepressants, these you can take if you have anxiety, these are for the OCD…” Lotti looked at a note while pointing at the medications in front of them. Eric looked at the medications and dragged his hand over a bruise on his neck he had told his parents was from his karate training. He saw something else than his mom did while looking at the pills.

“You can have them here in the kitchen, in a cabinet-”

Eric gave her a disliking look.

“Robin's friends are always here digging around; can't I just have it in my room?” He said and continued to drag his hand over the bruise. Lotti looked at her son. He was a trustworthy young man, and she trusted him with her life.

“Okay, but you must take them every day.”

Eric nodded, taking the medications in his hands, and walked up the stairs. He would take them every day, but also take more and more for every day.

×××

“That doctor… I can't understand why he felt it was a good idea to give a fourteen-year-old so many medications… But also…” Lotti sighed and looked down at the pictures of Eric. “I can't understand how I thought it was a good idea for him to take care of it all himself. I forgot he wasn't my own flesh and blood so many times…”

I sat in silence for a while, until Lotti sighed.

“But what happened then? I guess you noticed he had taken them all?”

Lotti nodded.

“Yes, and we didn't get him any more medications. He tried to tell us he wouldn't do it again, but we weren't that stupid this time. Then I kinda... Forgot about it all?” Lotti looked shameful. “You must understand, Eric was such a lovely young man with me and others around; I kind of forgot he actually didn't feel well, or maybe I didn't want to believe so? He was just sweet all the time, so we didn't notice he fixed his own drugs instead.”

“Like what?”

“First I think it was weed, then he started with ecstasy and amphetamine... I don't really know when he started to take opiates.”

It was all so sad. They had wanted to give him everything, but his background caught up with him. He had inherited the addiction gene and was also traumatized by abuse. He didn't have a chance. His anxiety had taken over his life, and he still was fighting so hard.

I looked at Lotti while she dried her tears with her floral napkin. I wanted to tell her that the person she loves the most was alive and quite happy, but I didn't dare. I didn't know how that would affect her, and I didn't want to create fights with either Robin or Eric. It was both their choice, and I wanted to give them both respect.

“Did he take drugs all the time after that?”

Lotti looked up at me again and made a loud exhalation. It probably took all her power to talk about Eric, but she continued anyway.

“No, he had a girlfriend that got him to stop, Felice, but when the relationship started to go south, he also felt a need for drugs. And then… With Simone, everything got so much worse.” I looked at Lotti with big eyes. I could feel a stir of anger in my stomach when I thought about Simone, but also jealousy, it was hard thinking about Eric with another woman.

“She broke his heart. Eric was a sensitive boy—so sensitive, and she didn't take his mental health problems seriously. She didn't understand where his addiction came from, so she broke up with him. The next I hear...” Lotti took a break and swallowed hard. “The next…” She swallowed hard again, but the tears had gathered in her eyes and would spill over even if she did everything in her power not to cry. I took her hand in mine, and she let herself cry silently.

“He had overdosed. Heroine. My boy… My little boy…” she cried. My heart beated hard in my chest, and my throat burned like I had swallowed a match. It was awful that she believed he was dead.

“When was this?” I asked carefully.

“Soon three years ago.”

I nodded slowly. It must have been around the same time she had been through her accident, so it was easy to fool her, but that was also what made it even worse. She had also lost her husband around the same time. Why did they do this to Lotti?

×××

The full moon looked at us while we made out. Big and round, it stared at us just like in my dreams, but this time we weren't alone. We sat outside on a cold autumn night after having danced at The Pulse. Four of his friends sat and looked at us while we made out on a teeter-totter on the playground. We had run around there like two kids while his friends passed around a joint.

I had his bomber jacket on top of my own coat while he just wore an oversized t-shirt with a big picture of Courtney Love in a thin neglige. Even if he had so few clothes on, I put my cold hands on his stomach to touch his skin and muscles.

“He's just skinny!” Shouted Jackie towards us, and both me and Eric looked at him amused. Eric dragged me closer to him so he could stuff his nose in my hair and breathe in, and I dragged my hands to his naked back.

“Should we go home?” He whispered, and I nodded. I wanted him to myself now.

“Do you know she stalked you?” Shouted Jackie just as loudly as he had done before. Eric looked at him with a smirk, like it was a bad joke. I, on the other hand, gave Jackie a worried look and swallowed hard.

“Yeah, she had seen you around and begged me for your address. It wasn't a coincidence you met her outside the store.”

Eric looked at me with a confused smirk. He didn't seem to believe Jackie, and neither would I, if it hadn’t been about me.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're going home now,” said Eric, who helped me off the teeter before he stood up himself. While doing that, his sleeve rode up, and I could see the aggressively purple bruise on his upper arm. I saw that Nick looked at it too, but I looked away when he looked at me.

“It's nice seeing you together. Seeing you with a girl. It suits you,” said Nick in a brotherly way, but there was a hint of worry there too. Eric lit up and pulled me close to him. He looked at me with big eyes.

“Yeah. It feels like a dream sometimes.” He didn't let me go with his eyes while his friends started to ‘oh and ah’ and whistle as a joke. Eric smirked at them but then lifted me up easily so I had my legs around his waist.

“Let's go home.”

×××

It was all so good between us, except when his anxiety crept on him in the night, like something heavy lay on his chest, and he couldn't get it away. I could see him touch his neck, like that was the solution. I dragged his hand away and let him lay against my chest and breathe deeply.

“Tell me. What do you think about?”

Eric laid quiet, like he expected the question to disappear if he just ignored it.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I don't know,” he said lowly. “Just shit. Old memories.”

“What kind of memories?” I wanted him to tell me about his childhood with his own words, but he was quiet again.

“It can help to talk about it.”

“I don't know what to say,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “It's just bullshit things.” 

He was just the same as he was when he was four years old. I wondered if he had told anyone what had actually happened to him as a child. I dragged my fingers through his hair until he suddenly talked with a whisper, like he didn't dare to say it out loud.

“It was my own fault... I should have said something, but... I guess I was ashamed."

“You don't need to be ashamed; it wasn't your fault.” 

My comment could reveal I knew more than I should, but he didn't say anything about it; he just sighed deeply and laid a hand over his face. 

“Eric? You were a child; it's okay to talk about it. You don't have any responsibility for this.” 

He nodded a little but didn't remove his hand, so I moved him away from my chest and laid down so our faces were at the same height. 

I waited for him to say something, and at last he did. 

“I had the best parents... My foster parents. I love…” he swallowed hard and looked down at the sheets. “They were the best, but my biological mother... Eh fuck,” he sat up in bed and laid his hands over his face. I didn't move, hoping he would lay down when he was ready. 

“She was just fucked up.” He shrugged his shoulders like that was all. 

“Fucked up, how?” I asked and dragged my hand over his naked back. Eric put his hands on his head and dragged them back to his neck in an uncomfortable manner. 

“Eh fuck Della, I don't want to talk about this.” 

I nodded a little and pulled lightly on his forearm. 

“Okay, of course. Come now, baby, let's sleep…”  

He laid down on my chest again, and I hugged his head in my arms. I was disappointed he didn't want to tell me, and at the same time, I worried so much about him. It wasn't healthy to carry around such things in his chest without processing them. I also felt the bad conscience grow in my tummy. I knew so much about him but pretended to know nothing so he would tell me more. 

Eric fell asleep after having listened to my heart for a couple minutes; he didn't seem to notice it beating harder with anxiety. I was his girlfriend, but the only thing I did was lie. I wanted to be honest; I wanted our relationship to be true, but for that to happen, I needed to tell him I had stalked him, I had fooled his mom and brother, and I had lied to him. He would never forgive me for that. 

I pressed my cheek against the top of his head and breathed in his minty shampoo. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths, but my tears slipped down in his black hair and disappeared. I wished it could be as easy for my lies to disappear. 

 ××× 

I could see that all of my girlfriends looked at Eric with big eyes, even my sister, Desiree. 

We were out dancing at a club, celebrating Halloween, and getting tipsy on tequila shots. Eric was one of the few guys in the club that had some sort of Halloween costume. He had let me do his makeup, and we matched each other, with black tears streaming down our cheeks, and he also had my black lipstick on. He did what he wanted and didn't even think about how people would react. 

“I think you need a glass of water!” He said to me over the music and laughed at my disoriented look. “I’ll get one for you!”

Eric stood up and walked away to the bar. He towered over most people, and it made it easy for me to see where he went. I looked at my friends who also looked after him. He wore a dark gray tank top in a loose model that showed off his arms and muscular chest. He paired it with bleached jeans that sat baggy on his long legs. 

“He's hot as fuck!” Nessa said to me loudly over the music even if her boyfriend sat next to her. I giggled and laid my head against the couch. I was a bit too drunk, but I had the luxury to know I had a boyfriend who would be able to carry me home. 

“He is, but... He looks like a player! Are you sure he is a good guy?” asked Desiree and looked at me seriously. 

“He's not a player! I promise. Don't you notice how shy he is?” 

Eric had said hello to everyone but kept mostly quiet while we talked. He just nodded a little with a smile when he agreed with something. 

“Are you sure he's shy? It can just be a way to win you over,” said Nessa's boyfriend and took a sip of his beer. I gave him an irritated, pointed look.

“You think he has played shy for three months? He's shy! Even if he looks like a bad boy!” I said with a drunken giggle. Desiree shook her head amused and also giggled. We fell quiet when Eric came back, carrying a glass of water for me and a beer for himself. In my toxication, I crawled into his lap with a giggle and kissed his face several times. I was so proud to have such a hot, sweet boyfriend. I could see jealous eyes on us. Eric smirked at me but then pressed his lips against mine. 

“What's your training routine?” Paulina's boyfriend asked suddenly. I had seen him looking at Eric a lot, but I hadn't put so much thought into what it meant, but now I knew. I looked at Eric, who played with my short leather skirt with an uncomfortable expression. He was probably not so comfortable answering that because he trained a bit too much. It was sometimes many hours a day. 

“No, you don't really know, right? You just work out when you want to,” I said so he wouldn't need to answer the question. He looked at me with big eyes, then smiled. 

“Yeah, it's not scheduled, so I don't know,” said he with a shoulder shrug.

××× 

We became even more intoxicated, except Eric, who drank as much as the other guys but was completely unfazed. We were outside of the club, ready to go to the next destination, but we needed to wait on Nessa, who puked in an alley with Desiree as help. Paulina and Amanda looked between me and Eric, leaning against the building further away, closer to the alley. 

“He's super hot... Isn't that hard? I don't mean this in a bad way, but... He's a really hot guy, while you're more... Cute?” said Amanda.

I scoffed and looked at Eric, who had pulled up his tank top to show his abs for the men around him. It was silly behavior and probably nothing they would have done if they weren't drunk. 

“You mean I'm not hot enough for him?” 

“I don't mean it like that! Just that you maybe don't match?” 

I shook my head in disbelief but also wondered how she would continue the conversation, but instead both of my friends just looked at him when he laughed showing off his abs. I was so proud of him. So, so proud of that amazing human, but now I felt worried and jealous. Because of Demi's reaction to him, I had started to believe I was the only one seeing his beauty, but I was so wrong; even the guys stood and gawked at his body. I had been naive, and now I got worried some other girl was around the corner, prepared to steal my man. 

I left Paulina and Amanda without saying anything and walked up to my tall boyfriend. He was the tallest in the group. He was the fittest in the group. The hottest of them too. I wasn't the hottest of my friends; I wasn't even the tallest. 

“I'm tired,” I whined and pushed my face against his chest, acting like I was more drunk than I was. Eric looked down at me with a silly smile and put my hair behind my ear with soft fingers. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked and lifted my chin so he could look me in the eyes. I pouted and nodded like a sour five-year-old. He played with my pouting underlip with his thumb in a teasing way and made the same face himself. 

“Then we go home, yeah?” 

I nodded but lifted my arms, and he lifted me up like it was obvious what I wanted. I could see my girlfriends look at me with some sort of envy. Maybe they just wanted their boyfriends to be more like Eric, or they wanted him. I didn't care, the only thing I knew was that I would never let him go. He was mine. 

××× 

How we ended up on the floor I couldn't remember. I could only remember what I saw right then and there. Eric had my naked leg in a tight grip, slung over his shoulder, while snapping his hips fast. His girthy cock pushed into me fast and hard and I could hear myself moaning in a pathetic way; sometimes I even mixed in his name, something I've never done with any guy before. When I looked up at him, I could see his dark gaze and open mouth. I could see a sweaty chest and abs and a v-line carved with the sharpest knife. He kissed my calf while slapping his hips against mine. He let me often lay down because I couldn't match his strength and stamina, but he didn't complain; it felt more like he fucked me even harder because he wanted to tease me.

“Can I come inside of you?” He said it between his pants, and I just nodded. He had learned he didn't need to do much to get me to come when he had transformed me into a pile of just lifeless body parts, he just pressed down with two fingers over my clit, like it was a button, and rubbed it a few times, then I came together with him. 

××× 

I really needed to start to work out again. Even if I hadn't really done any heavy lifting, I had pain in my thighs the next morning. I was happy my parents had been nice and had taken Odin for a night; in exchange, they could meet my boyfriend. I looked at my boyfriend snoring loudly with an open mouth. He always snored loudly when he had been drinking alcohol. Sometimes he even woke me up. I was nervous about bringing him to my parents. I knew he would be the best boy but I didn't know if my parents would be as well behaved. I don’t even think they had seen someone with as many tattoos as Eric. They would probably be uncomfortable but I hoped they at least would be nice. 

I laid my nose against his neck even if he was snoring and slung a leg over his hip. I just wanted to be close, and I hoped the sight of my pussy so close to his cock would make him perk up when he was awake. I smirked to myself, lost in filthy thoughts, so I didn't even hear the entrance door open. 

If I knew, I would have jumped up and closed the door to the bedroom. If I knew that Robin had taken his own key to surprise me early in the morning, I would have suggested Eric should take a run in my neighborhood. The last thing I would do was lay naked with his brother, who started to get hard in his sleep. 

I thought I heard the sound of keys but waved it away as nothing. Instead, I dug down my nose even further down in Eric's neck and let my pussy push against his hardened cock. I knew it was okay I did that; he just likes being woken up with sex.

“What the fuck?” I heard Robin say behind me in such a confused voice that I didn't even recognize his voice. I turned to the door and met his blue eyes that looked at us upset. First I couldn't move, even if he could see so much of our naked bodies, and when I started to realize what was actually happening, I moved away from Eric and covered us both up with covers. 

“Oh my god, oh my god... Robin, it wasn't meant…” I whined and put my hands over my face in shame. 

“You're fucking with him??” Said Robin, upset and waved with his arms, so he accidentally waved down a vase standing on my vanity table. It was crushed into hundreds of small pieces, but it also crushed Eric's sleep, and he looked up, confused. He sat up, exposing his whole naked torso, and it made Robin look away, like he thought the view was disgusting. Eric looked at Robin in silence than at me in confusion. 

“What, what, what is this?” He stuttered. His big green eyes were full of worry but also hurt. He already knew I had done something stupid that would break his trust in just as many pieces as the vase. 

×

[ebaybears]

Rainbow Furby Deepdive

Now that I've decided my website is a sea slug fansite (long story) I don't have anywhere to put my rainbow furby research. I considered putting it in a youtube video, but decided to post it to tumblr instead.

Anyway, here it is! The forbidden furby lore.

On the 14th of June 2016 supersonicmario0770 made a post on the adoptafurby forums. The thread was titled "Rainbow Furby?" and included a link to an archived ebay listing.

"I have never seen one of these before or where it came from. I can't find it when I look it up, no sign of it anywhere online but this ebay listing. It's pink with rainbow ears, hair, and chest."

At first most forum members thought it was a customized furby with dyed fur, although some thought it could be an unknown prototype. While the ebay listing is unarchived, we know roughly what it said.

On the 15th aibo7m3 posted this:

"I would err on the side of caution and and say that it's probably a custom too, but the seller's story is that this furby was an employee gift given to some of the members at tiger electronics (including her husband)."

Two weeks later on July 6th furbyandchips made a forum post, providing pictures of their own rainbow furby.

"My friend bought me the other rainbow furby the seller on ebay was selling. Identical to this one. I do not believe it to be fake or custom made. I have inspected it closely and the bottom of the box was open, so the inside cardboard can be removed, but the furby is still attached to the cardboard and didn't look tampered with. All tags are present and in mint condition. Everything is as it should be and looks like it was made in a factory and not customized by someone. The seller told my friend the same story which I believe to be true going by the fact the other furby she bought with it was only furby number 4 of that release, which makes me think it could of been someone who worked for tiger to have such a early one. This furby is in a regular box but if you look at some of the other special editions they too were in regular boxes."

Three years later, on the 19th of January 2019 furbyandchips provided an update on their website heyfurby.com.

"Hello Furby Fans! To start off our new blog, I thought I would write about a very interesting Furby in our collection. I do not know her Furby name as I have never switched her on, she is still attached to the cardboard base from the factory. We decided to name her May May, which means Love ;-)

A good friend found May May on Ebay America and I have never seen another furby like her. A while ago I posted about May May on a furby forum to try and find out some information about her, but no one there had ever seen or heard of this furby. I'm not sure which generation she is, if she is a prototype, limited edition or something very special. She has all tags present and looks to be an Official Furby Release.

Looking at the photo you will see she has rainbow eyelashes and a purple face plate, unlike any other furby. She also has rainbow pattern ears, mane and belly.

Her colours are amazing and I wonder if there are any more around like her. We will always treasure May May and hope to eventually find out more information about her. Stay tuned!"

furbyandchips quickly provided an update on the 21st. In this post, furbyandchips described searching the wayback machine for furby.com articles, finding what they were looking for on a page titled 'news updates'.

From the 9th of November 1999 until the 1st of August 2000 a competition to design a furby took place on the back of Post brand cereals. Children 17 and under were asked to color in their own furby design, and send their entry in the mail by the 1st of August 2000. Twelve designs at random would then be selected and posted on furby.com where a winner could be voted by the public.

The winner was Brittany from Missouri, who won a trip to the furby design studio in Illinois, as well as recieving their own furby. However, furbyandchips was still left with some unanswered questions.

"So it turns out that this is in fact an official Furby-Tiger Release! (some doubted this on AdoptaFurby Forum). I wonder if 'Brittany from Missouri' still has her Rainbow Furby? Also were any of the other 12 entries created?

As far as I know, there are only two Rainbow Furby's in existence. The one that I own, and the other one the original seller (maybe) still has? After some more detective work, I found out the other rainbow Furby had a highest bid of $525.00 before the seller chose to end the auction early! I can only guess they had a change of heart and wanted to keep it."

Eight months later, on the 11th of august 2019 an update was posted on the private facebook group Furby Collectors.

"Hi guys! I'm brand new to this group, and while I'm not a “collector” per-se, i am very proud of this furry rainbow dude right here. He's one of three in existence, made in 2000 when i was just 10 years old. i just so happened to be the lucky winner of a coloring “design your own Furby” contest hosted by Post cereals back in the day. i was flown to Rhode Island with my family and allowed to tour the Hasbro factory, meeting the artists, getting sneak peaks into prototype toys to come, and got to meet the CEO himself! He presented to me, in a formal greeting ceremony, with three of the Furbies I'd designed as a little girl. One to play with (kept outside of the box), one to keep sealed, and one they put into their archives. i felt ike a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! Truly a dream come true for a kid. Sadly, when i was 16 years old, 13 years ago now, my boxed Furby was stolen from me and sold by my late older brother who had been battling an incredibly difficult and heartbreaking addiction. I've come to terms with it over the years, but have always wondered what happened to the rainbow siblings of this furry cutie. I'd seen images posted online of an Ebay listing with one of the sibling Furbies before but have not discovered much more about their fates. thought I'd reach out here and give a bit of backdrop to this weird story in hopes i may learn something! Here I've included a goofy photo of my multicolored friend from recently and a clipping of the arcticle written from when i was an excited 10 year old girl!"

This still leaves some questions. If the other furby furbyandchips's friend bought was number four, then why would the facebook poster believe there to be only three in existance, why would furbyandchip's believe only two to exist, and why would the original ebay seller say their husband recieved two as an employee gift?

We can most likely rule out the brother making both ebay listings, since he only had access to one furby. Could there be more rainbow furbies that we don't know of?

If you have any more information on this furby, please get in touch! I tracked down the news article the original creator was mentioned in, but I needed a newspaper.com subscription to view it so I wasn't able to get further information from that. I also wasn't able to check the facebook group for further updates as I don't use facebook. If anyone has pictures of the back of the rainbow furby and can share them, that would be appreciated!

Here's some more images:

[killersfool]

I Want You | ELIJAH HEWSON

PAIRING : elijah hewson x original f!character

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: dahlia jenkinson, josh’s sister is asked to fill in as photographer at his bad’s concert. her plan is to ask him out by the end of the show as she’s been crushing on him for ever. what she doesn’t expect is that one of their songs was written about her—and she’s right there when he confesses it.

WORDS: 5.6k

WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, kissing

Friday. Underground. London.

I run through the station passing the endless people, posters and children's screams. My brother, Josh, had asked me yesterday to help out at his band's concert. He'd told me that their photographer had gotten COVID so he needed someone to fill in.

I dragged my roommate along with me as my moral support, seeing as she's heard me spill every secret in my mind about the band's lead singer, Elijah.  I've been helping Josh with his band's endeavours for years and have also had to condone countless sleepovers. I've had the sound of drumsticks crashing together engrained in my head by this point. Robyn has always told me to 'stop being a pussy and ask Eli out on a date' but honestly, I'm terrified I'll ruin everything. This photography thing has really helped to get me new jobs and more exposure.

"So, you still crushing on Eli?" Robyn asks. She's been glancing over at my phone for the past few minutes. I've been texting the band group chat that I've been added to. They usually kick me out randomly. This is the longest period of time I've been in it without having an argument. I'm pretty proud.

"Shut up." I scoff. "If you dare say anything to any of of them, I will kill you."

"I wouldn't," she laughs. I give her a look. "I'll try not to..."

"You and your big mouth."

"I can't help it."

"I shouldn't tell you things."

"Who else would you tell?" She grabs at my phone, noticing a message from Elijah pop up.

It reads: "Missed you. You've always been the better Jenkinson." I try to contain my smile at the stupid message. It's just a couple words beneath a name on a screen and I'm getting all nervous. It's pathetic. God, this is getting bad.

"That's cute," Robyn says and is about to start writing a message back until I snatch my phone back. Who knows what kind of bullshit she'd start sending. She'd surely send some terrible pictures of me. That's happened on many ocassions. I've learnt my lesson to never trust her with my phone.

"Cringe." I type back, although the smile on my face is betraying the words on the screen. I stare at his profile picture for a few seconds. It's a selfie of me and the band. I look half asleep, probably drunk. Eli's hair is all over his face and Josh is squeezing Ryan's cheeks. Bobby is just angrily staring at the camera. He definitely didn't want to be in that photo. It's sweet that Eli has kept his profile picture that way for so long. We haven't seen each other in months. I send another message, "Well you're not my favourite Hewson."

He sends an angry emoji. "Who is then?"

"Bono, course."

He sends a few more angry emojis before spamming the group chat. There is already some kind of argument happening. Robert seems to be late and they're all asking where he is. I switch my phone off, sliding it into my pocket. Robyn's been unusually quiet.

"What have you done this time?" I ask with a subtle tilt of my head. She's chewing on some haribos she'd bought moments ago. She then smirks to herself, "Nothing."

I'm a little worried but decide to brush it off. We leave the train station and I'm struck by the freezing air. I sometimes forget how cold England is. Having moved from Ireland over a year ago, I feel like I should've acclimatised. But, why is it always so cold? I hold my jacket closer to myself to try to warm up.

We pass at least ten people with 'I love London' shirts. Sounds of street sellers are familiar along with the hustle and bustle of late London nights. I see the London Eye twisting in the distance. Big ben is tolling. The venue comes into view a few streets away. I'm dreading it slightly. I feel as if I'm not going to cope this time seeing that ever-so-familiar face. It's as if with each passing month, he gets better looking. It should be crime. I'll probably melt when I see him.

I instead focus on seeing Josh and my excitement for seeing the gig. They've all really improved over the years. They really know how to put on a good show. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. It'll be fine. Surely.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Robyn takes notice of me fiddling with my earrings. It's become some nervous habit. I find a comfort in twiddling the crystals between my fingers.

"A bit," I say. Honest. "What if he finds out? We'll surely get piss-drunk. What if he only wants to be mates?"

"Lia, darling, you've got to stop overthinking it. After hearing all these stories you've told me, it sounds like he likes you a lot," she says, grinning. "I'll tell you if I see any looks passed or anything suspicious, okay?"

"You're the best." I give her a hug, forgetting for a moment about the crowded streets around us. Robyn hugs are always too good to be true. I sometimes forget how unbelievably short she is and how she tries to suffocate me with her arms.

Just as we're about to continue down the endless streets, I see someone running past us. I barely even realise he's passed me until Robyn points him out. I see long, curly hair and a massive case swung over his shoulder. Bobby. Then, he turns to face us. Blue eyes catch me off guard then a massive grin. He seems to question whether he should stop or get to the venue. He's very late.

"Is that the bassist?" Robyn wonders. "Robert?"

"That's me," he says, retracing his steps. His mullet has gone all messy in the autumn wind. He's trying to swipe away a few stray hairs from out of his face. "Hey Dally. Who's this?" He points towards my friend with a lazy smile.

"This is Robyn. My roommate. She's the one who accidentally stepped on a pigeon."

"Ah." He then turns into his bird lover mode. "How could you do that to a poor, helpless bird? How could you? Can't believe you're called Robyn. That's a disgrace. Wish I was called Robyn. Or sparrow. Or some kind of bird. God, do I love birds—"

"Okay, Robert. We get it," I interrupt with a finger in the air. He crosses his arms over his chest, pouting. Robyn is laughing at his angered demeanour. He always puts on this irritated-sarcastic face in moments like this. He looks like a child after stepping on lego.

"Aren't you late?" Robyn asks the blue-eyed boy. His phone has been pinging with notification throughout the few minutes they have been walking together. He seems to be a little stressed. I have to almost run to keep up with this speed of impossibly long legs.

We approach the venue. It's a huge, pretty rundown building which strikes out in stark contrast to the fancy buildings around it. The words 'Inhaler:tonight' are written on a chalkboard beside the entrance. The place really matches the band for some reason. There's a queue of fans outside. A lot of them are sat down on the pavement. They scream at the sight of the bassist, piling around him. Phones are being held up to take pictures of him.

"Sorry guys, I've got to get inside. Thank you for coming," Robert mumbles.

Robyn and I act as body guards, preventing anyone from getting too close. Banners have been dropped onto the ground, passersby glance over in confusion. There's colourful cowboy hats covered with jewels everywhere. That music video really drove the world crazy. It definitely drove me crazy. I probably make up at least half of the views.

The majority of the crowd continue to take photos. Some say 'Oh my God, that's Josh's sister!' I give them a smile whilst simultaneously pushing Robert forwards.

We finally get to the back door. The gathering give up after a while. They go back to the queue, attempting to slot in to their previous place.

"Well, doors haven't opened yet so you can't be that late," I remark. The front doors are still locked.

"I'm missing sound check though."

I hear music booming quietly through the walls. I open the door, pressing down on it with fingertips. It creaks open to a long corridor with white plastered walls. It smells of fresh paint. The light is barely even attached to the ceiling. It looks like some horror film scene. Creepy.

But then Josh comes around the corner. His guitar is slung over his chest and his face lights up to reveal a huge smile that I've always adored. He's taller than the last time I've seen him. He runs straight towards me, engulfing me with his arms. I'm uncomfortably pressed against his guitar but I couldn't care less. I'm so glad I came. I missed him so much.

Robert slides past us and Robyn awkwardly stands in the doorway. I introduce her to my brother. He gives her a hug as well. She seems to enjoy this whole situation a lot. She's getting all loud and giddy.

The rest of the band are still playing through songs. They're running through 'Dublin In Ecstasy'. Elijah's voice is echoing through the entire building, sliding it's way through my skull. There's a part of me that wants to turn back. I could just make my way back to my apartment, have a cup of coffee and stalk Twitter accounts of people who went to the show. I definitely haven't been doing that for the past few months. I'm not that insane. Or obsessed.

"Do you want to listen to sound check or hang out back stage?" Josh asks us. He's been talking to Robyn, getting to know her and she seems to like him, thankfully. It'd be downright awkward if she hated his guts.

"I'll follow you," Robyn says to Josh. She starts to traipse down the corridor. I watch her curls bounce from side to side as she jumps with every step. She suddenly realises that she's left me behind. "You coming?"

I groan, staring at the door. "Yeah. Fuck it."

I pick up my camera in preparation. I've been using the same one for years. It's got stickers all over it. Some of random bands, some from different countries and little letters spelling out my name. Elijah had bought me a few pages of letters of the alphabet as a birthday present when I turned 15. I still remember that day. We were all huddled inside my living room after being drenched by a sudden storm. There were about fifteen of us, including the band. The fireplace before us was the only source of light in the darkened room. I think I was dating Ryan at that point. That was a strange time. He was sweet. It only lasted a couple of weeks. Elijah had a girlfriend too. Younger me was very jealous. I think that's what made me realise I liked him.

Now, fast forward eight years and my heart is beating in my ears like I'm a teenager all over again.

I allow Robyn to go first. I trail behind. Josh has left us to our own devices and we try to figure out where exactly we're supposed to go. We decide to follow the sounds of music booming. Closer and closer. We go down a staircase, open a door then we're right at the stalls, just beneath the stage. The door crashes so loudly that all of the band stop playing. They all peer down at us.

The band name 'Inhaler' is upon the wall and coloured lights paint the stage. This room is a lot nicer than the exterior. There's a standing area then seats up along the top. The walls are painted a deep shade of crimson with gold lines intricately painted everywhere. It's too good to be true. It feels so weird being at one of their gigs again. It feels even weirder to see all of them in the same place at the same time.

I trace my gaze along the stage. I take a quick glance at Josh who is tuning his guitar, then Ryan who's staring at us with wide eyes. I shift my eyes a little further to see Elijah. He's dropped his mic at the sight of us. I take notice of the length of his hair. It's falling over his eyes, a mess of curls shrouding his face. He's wearing a white vest top and a bulky blazer which is holding onto his shoulders for dear life. I can't see him very well from here. What I can see is the complexity of his gaze. The way he's looking at me is making me nervous. I take a deep breath.

"Dahlia?!" Ryan calls out. He drops his drumsticks similarly to Elijah.

"Surprise?" I say. I thought Josh had told them I was coming. "Wait, did Josh not tell you?"

Elijah picks up the microphone from the ground, not taking his eyes away from mine. "Josh, you gobshite. I thought she was coming next week," he says into the mic, words jumping through my ears. I hate how warm his voice is through those speakers. It's sickening.

"Well, I'm not complaining." Ryan jumps down from the stage, giving me and Robyn a hug. It's a group hug where we're all squashed together. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"You're still short," I say. I can still look down on him, especially with my chunky boots. He rolls his eyes.  "This is Robyn." I introduce my roommate to both Ryan and Elijah.

"Nice to meet you," Elijah murmurs as he jumps off the stage. He's left the mic on the stand. He's pushing his hair from his face.

Robyn gives me a look, raising an eyebrow in the direction of Elijah. She's got a malevolent smile. What's she going to do? Maybe I shouldn't have brought her.

"I've heard all about you." Robyn gives Elijah a little wink. I kick the back of her leg .

His lip raises the slightest bit. I find myself staring at his mouth for far too long. There's stubble lining his chin and a splatter of freckles on his cheeks. "Have you, now?" His low voice drifts through the air. He's maintaining eye contact with me. I'm trying to evade his gaze.

"She's exaggerating." I assure him, trying to stop myself from giving Robyn another thwack.

"Eli! We have like 5 minutes until door opens and Dublin In Ecstasy is a mess. Get up here. You can swoon later." Robert is already playing the introduction to the song. Ryan and Josh join in.

"Swoon?" Eli shakes his head with a grin.

"We're just that amazing," Robyn whispers to me.

I hold up my camera, taking a picture of the three lads on stage. Then I point it at Elijah. I take a few of his confused face before he leaves us to sing along to the music.

"He's whipped." Robyn watches as he climbs back onto the stage. "Likes you so much he can barely even function-" She points out how he can't even plug his guitar in. He's been trying to shove the lead in for a while but his eyes are wandering elsewhere. "You've got to say something to him. He's leaving tomorrow, isn't he? Maybe tonight.."

I breathe in. "Alright. I'll try."

Robyn and I hum along to the tune. Elijah's rough vocals make my mind go cloudy. He sounds so much crisper in person. I think back to the cuts and bruises vinyl on my shelf. Robyn had bought it the day it came out. Josh sent me every version possible. Robyn went on about supposedly being 'the first person in the world who bought it'. She said she saw the record in HMV and instantly thought of me. We had stayed up late that night to listen through each track. Eating popcorn, drinking alcohol, talking about random shit. That was when I told her everything about Elijah. From the schoolgirl crush, to the trying to forget him then to the full-blown infatuation. She enjoyed listening to every detail I had to offer.

Elijah continues singing. I'm holding my breath, my palms are sweaty, I feel my heart pulsing at my throat. Robyn is swaying to each beat of the drums. Elijah won't stop looking at me.

Then the song ends and we all tun backstage, in an attempt to evade the incoming fans. I hear shouts echoing in the distance. We've gathered in a little room backstage. Josh is showing me some fancy chocolates he bought in Rome. I'm taking pictures of the band members. Robyn keeps photobombing. I rest my head upon the armrest of the sofa, closing my eyes. It feels nice. Calm. Until, someone settles beside me. They grab my legs so that they can properly sit down. The hands are cold and fingertips are calloused. That someone is Elijah. "Excited for the show?"

He's got his pre-show drink in one hand and his phone in the other. I close my eyes once again.

I shift around in the soft cushion attempting to get into a more comfortable position. He scoffs and pulls my legs up by the ankles to rest them over his thighs. "I know you're tired," he says. He takes a sip of his drink. "But if you dare fall asleep during the show, I will throw my guitar at you." I move my legs around his thighs then actually raise my head to look at him. I take a picture as he makes a stupid face. I don't know how he can do that whilst still looking pretty.

"Is this comfortable?" I ask. He's been very still. "I can move if you want."

"It's nice... fine," he mumbles as he scrolls through messages on his phone. "Reminds of that music lesson. Must've been our first year of secondary school. You fainted after some practice test we did. We were sat in this exact position for at least an hour. I think my legs stopped working."

I try to bring my head back to the memory. He was so different back then. Shorter hair, insanely asthmatic. He only knew me as Josh's twin sister. Somehow that was enough for him to stay there with me and keep me safe. After that, he had some complex where had to look after me with his life. It was charming.

"I had to kick you about nine time because you feel asleep, " I recall. My mind is wandering through moments I can barely even remember. "You were so strange."

"I could've left you there in the practice asleep. You should be thanking me for saving you from embarassment-"

"Why, thank you. Oh how you've changed my entire life. I owe you all that I have."

He shakes his head, squeezing the skin at the bottom of my ankle. He then rests his hand there. As if it's normal. He's still reading through messages, biting the top of the plastic cup.

"When do you lot go on then?" I ask everyone.

Robyn has started drawing eyeliner onto the other boys. She just pulled it out of her pocket randomly and asked if they wanted her to do it. They've filed into a queue. She's done some graphic liner on Bobby with little stars that makes his bright eyes pop out all the more.

"Ten minutes." Ryan is putting some hair gel through his hair. He puts some music on using a bluetooth speaker they placed in the corner. Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley comes on. I'm trying to stop myself from falling asleep but it's getting harder with each passing second.

"I'm so excited," Robyn says as she does Josh's eyeliner. She's made his more smudgy and messy. It suits him a lot.  "Elijah, should I do yours? Or Dahlia can do it?" She passes the tube towards me. There's some malicious intent behind her eyes. I narrow my eyes down to the black contraption, taking it uneasily between my fingers.

He lays down his phone and drink. He's trying to push all the hair out of his face to give me some access to his eyes. I kneel down on the sofa beside him. I grab a hair bobble from my wrist then tie the top half of his hair up. He groans as I pull some strands way too hard then relaxes into my touch. He smells like cigarette smoke and cologne.

"How should I do it?" I wonder out loud. I've opened the tube and I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about this. He looks like his teenage self with his hair like this. His eyes are maintaining a hard eye contact as I near him. There's a warmth rising to my face.

Robyn pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of Rodrick Hefley. I snort. "Try it like that," she says.

Elijah closes his eyes as I begin to draw little lines then smudge. I've grabbed his chin to keep him in place. I can feel the sharp stubble poking at my fingers. He opens his eyes every now and then. They're half-lidded, watching. I poke his eye by accident. I scold him for opening his eyes. He decided to instead keep them closed.

I admire my work once I've done. It's not my best liner but it's alright. The other boys gather around to get a look at him. His hazel eyes come into view and he smiles widely at the sight of us all. "Does it look good?"

"Looks class," Ryan says as he grabs a mirror. The other boys nod along.

Elijah looks at himself. He seems to not know if he likes it or not. He smiles at me and says, "Thanks, love."

I just smile back, pulling out the bobble from his hair. An unruly splatter of curls cascade across his forehead. There's something about him wearing eyeliner that's stopping me from thinking straight. It's different. I'm still sat half on top of him, one knee resting on his thigh and the other on the sofa. He helps me off of him then stands up.

He ruffles his hair as he says, "Let's get going lads."

The four boys grab everything they need for the show. Water bottles, instruments, drumsticks, their sanity. They all give each other a group hug. It must be some pre-show ritual because they all down their drinks at the exact same time. If that wasn't planned, it was uncanny.

"Good luck." I wave them off and they travel down the corridor in a straight line. As each of them walk out, I take a picture. Elijah is the last to leave. He stops in the doorway, still holding his plastic cup. He raises his lip to reveal his white teeth as I take the picture. He really enjoys making the strangest faces.

"If you don't get our best angles, I'll have to think about firing you." Elijah warns me just before he turns around. He then disappears down to another asylum-like corridor before I can get a chance to insult him. I let out a breath.

"That went well, right?" Robyn's trying to figure out what's going through my head. I can't even comprehend anything that just happened. The feel of his hand still lingers at my ankle. "That whole time you were talking to Josh about those chocolates, he was staring you down. It was pretty creepy, to be honest." She laughs. "Don't even get me started on the eyeliner. All of us felt like total third wheels."

"Sorry," I say. I play around with the bobble at my wrist. It had been wrapped around those glorious curls only moments ago. "God, I'm so in love it hurts."

"That's how I felt when I started liking Emmy. Literally all I could think about was her." Robyn is in a daze, eyes glued to the wall. "You need to do something before it's too late."

"After the set, I will tell him." I finally accept my fate. I could possibly not see him until next year. Or the year after. Who knows how busy I could get?

"Good," Robyn says. "I'm tired of hearing Elijah this Elijah that. Girl, I get it."

"You had an Emmy this Emmy that phase. Don't even start."

She frustratedly sighs. "Come on. I think they're going on."

I hear the crashing of drums reverberating through every wall, every floorboard. Slowly, we approach the main room. The bodyguard lets us through to the wings of the stage. I can see all the crowd from this angle. There are phones, cowboy hats and banners littered through the crowd. Some of the audience are people we had seen when Bobby was surrounded. They're screaming at the sight of the band.

The first song they play is These Are The Days. I keep my camera handy through every song. Elijah takes notice of us standing there. He steals a glance at us when he has a chance to breath. He's singing a lot stronger than I'd ever seen online.

Then they play through a few more songs on the new album. I sing along, I dance, I try not to get blinded by the flashing lights. Then all of a sudden they've finished playing Love Will Get You There and he turns to look right at me.

"This next song..." His words are pretty slurred. He's drunk. "This is an old one. I wrote this when I was about 17. There was this girl at my school who I just liked so much— I couldn't even focus in class. I played it to her once we'd got it perfect and she had not a single clue that it was about her. She still doesn't. It's been six years and I've never told her." He pauses and looks at me. "This is for you."

I'm overwhelmed by emotion. I raise an eyebrow at him. He just starts strumming along with his guitar. That's when I realise he's playing I Want You. They'd played that song to me in Elijah's garage. I asked him who it was about. He lied and said it was about his ex-girlfriend. I never thought twice about it. I never listened to it because it made me sick to my stomach that it was about her. A girl who I had been so jealous of.

"You got your lipstick on..." He starts singing. He's literally pointing at me. The crowd looks confused. They can't see me.

"Oh, Jesus," Robyn exclaims. "Oh, wow. I can't believe this. He's fucking confessing! Dally, I'm so happy for you right now. What the hell!"

Robyn is just as shocked as I am. We're both slack-jawed, wide-eyed yet caught in a silence as the song goes on. The crowd sings along with each and every line. The other members of the band have caught on with what is happening. They all seem to be pretty proud. Especially Josh. He's smiling so big it's making me smile too.

The truth is, I don't want the song to end. Or the show. I just want this moment to drag on forever. It all feels too good to be true.

The song finishes, the lights switch off, the crowd screams. I'm left in the darkness. Robyn is holding onto my side for dear life. The only thing illuminating the world around us is a tiny light bulb above us. My eyes start to get used to the darkness. I see a figure approaching.

"Can you come with me?" It's Elijah. His cheeks are tinged a shade of bright red. There's sweat lining his throat and his chest. He's taken off the blazer and has slung it over his shoulder. The eyeliner has bled down a little.

"Yeah..." I'm exasperated. My throat is raw from singing so much. My brain can barely process what is happening around me. My hands want to reach out and hold him close to me.

He grabs my hand, pulling me down through a corridor. We're both running towards the back door. I'm trying to match his pace but his longer legs give him an unfair advantage.

We finally reach the exit. He opens the door for me, allows me to pass through then shuts it. I'm met by London streets. Brick walls, crooked alleyways, a rubbish bin. It's not particularly romantic. But, with him standing there in front of me, it becomes the most romantic place on Earth.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," he admits. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you when you left. I was going to tell you at the airport when you were about to leave Dublin. So that you could think it through without us seeing each other every day. Then I got fucking terrified."

"I was going to tell you then too." I press my back against the wall. He's pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He offers me one. I let it rest between my lips. "I had plucked up some courage after I went to the toilet but then I sat beside you and forgot the whole script I'd planned out in my head. That was a pretty awkward five minutes. Felt like a century."

"We're idiots, aren't we?" He says as he lights his cigarette. "Josh has always known. I don't know how he never told you. He's great at keeping secrets. Six years of keeping his mouth shut. I don't know how he has that much self control."

"Six years?" I blow out a puff of smoke into the air. My eyes wander across the star covered sky. The moon is looming and watching us.

"I know." He's blushing again. He's trying to keep his distance from me, leaving a slight gap between us. "I'm pathetic."

"I liked you for longer."

"What?"

"Eight years. Since the day you started dating the blonde girl." I feel stupid saying it out loud. He's laughing at me.

"That's class."

We stand there in silence just looking at each other. I can hear ambulance sirens and birds calling. The brick walls is hard against my back. My shoes are covered in water from standing in a puddle. I can imagine that there's a camera above us. This could be a scene straight out of a film.

"Are you going to kiss me then?" Some sudden burst of confidence brings those words from my lips.

He's taken aback. His eyes fall down to my mouth. He then takes a step closer. I can feel his breath at my cheeks.

"Do you want me to?" His voice goes all low and his accent gets thicker. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek. Metal presses against my cheekbone. His thumb lazily draws a line across my bottom lip. His words hang in the air. "Dahlia, my love. Do you—"

I press my lips to his. I can't hold back anymore. I can taste the smoke on his tongue. His mouth is minty and his lips are soft. I've imagined this moment countless times. In a bookstore, in a train station, in the garage. But, this is perfect. Perfect.

My fingers sink into his hair. He groans into my mouth as I pull a few strands at the back. His thumb is sliding across my cheekbones. He's dropped the cigarette to instead use his other hand to clutch my waist. My hands are at his chest. His heart is beating incredibly fast. He holds me tight against him until I feel his chest rise and fall. Up and down. Breathing in and out.

We hear voices behind us. He pulls away quickly. We both turn to see a group of fans. They're teenagers and they're all dressed in bright outfits. They didn't see anything but they seem rather suspicious, whispering.

"Eli! Oh my God!! Can you take my BeReal please?" One of them shouts over.

Elijah runs his fingers over his lips. His ears are a pink shade. He slides his hand away from my waist.

"Yeah, sure!" He approaches the three girls with a small smile. He's trying to act normal. "I love your hats." He points at the 3 cowboy hats which spell out the word 'Inhaler' when they're all stood side-by-side.

"Thank you so much!" The darker haired girl passes him her phone. "Your eyeliner looks so good. You should do it like that more often."

"I had a grand makeup artist." He winks. I roll my eyes.

"Could Dahlia be in it?" The girl with glasses notices how I've awkwardly shifted to the side.

"Course she can," Elijah says.

I stand in the frame next to Elijah as he holds up the phone. His lips are red after being stained by my lipstick. I drop my head onto his shoulder and close my eyes. He nestles his face into my hair as he takes the picture. We're both giggling like lunatics.

I'm so glad it happened like this.

[angellayercake]

He is

Vampire Terzo x FReader | NSFW

Art by the wonderful @tasty-ribz

For @ghostchems on her birthday! To be a little bit soppy as much as I love ghost for being ghost it has also brought me some incredible friends. We bonded over loving terzo and love island and now you are my favourite person to scream about awful men with every day. I hope everyone is making you feel a special as Terzo would today because as far as we are concerned yours is the only important birthday happening this month 💜

Now a best selling author thanks to your experience at Crowley Manor you find yourself struggling to muster up inspiration for the sequel. Will returning to the place it all began help you? Or just confirm the none of it was real? A sequel to Cirice Warnings: blood, rough sex, hints of mind control, pinv sex, cunnilingus, lots of dust hehe

With a huff of frustration you scratch out the poor excuse for a sentence and drop your pen. There were more scribbles across the page then there were words and you needed a break or you might end up throwing your note pad across the room. Abandoning your desk you wander over to the window for a distraction from your writer's block. The evening was drawing in, street lights flickering on one by one as people hurried home from their day whether it be work or leisure it was still an unwelcome reminder of your lack of productivity. Turning from the view you scan across the room, your home office, hoping for something to spark your inspiration but your mind remains unhelpfully blank. You ponder just giving up for the day, shutting the door and giving yourself over to your evening but deadlines are approaching and there is still so much to do. With a reluctant determination, you turn to your inspiration board and will it to do its job. 

When you had decided to write a follow up to your best selling debut novel, you had carefully gathered all the things you knew you would need to refer to to build the story. There were your photographs from Crowley Manor, newspaper clippings about the house and the area, quotes and key plot points from the original story,  a couple of photos of bela lugosi, the closest you can find to how you remember him looking - although you have sketched what you recall of the facepaint he wore over the top with a marker - and in the centre, the note; the only thing you have that proves that it was real. Well, that and the two small scars on your neck. You rub your fingers over them absentmindedly as you try to remember anything more but even as the scars faded, so did your memories to the point where you are not entirely sure any of it was real. Reading over the words again. 

 A candle casting a faint glow

You and I see eye to eye

Can you hear the thunder?

How can you hear the thunder that's breaking?

Now there is nothing between us

From now our merge is eternal

Can't you see that you're lost?

Can't you see that you're lost without me?

-iii

You hum the tune to yourself, the melody you had only heard once and yet it plays through your dreams so frequently you have never been able to forget it, always accompanied by a dark shadow and the sense that you are being watched. Your experience at Crowley Manor - whether a true encounter with a dashing vampire or a figment of your imagination - had changed your life. You were a writer now; a successful published writer. Your vampire romance novel had been an instant best seller, ‘the mysterious vampire luring in unsuspecting victims until one stole his heart’ earned a loyal fanbase and quickly. In interview after interview you were asked if you had based him on someone real, probably assuming he was an older man you had a crush on, but you always answered no because how could you explain that he was a man you had most likely conjured up in a dream. 

But that had all brought you to where you were now; attempting to write the much anticipated sequel. The heroine of your story had left the manor in a similar way to you but after having spent much longer with her vampire lover, and as much as you wanted to see them reunited you were struggling to find the narrative. Unlike you she had been offered forever with him and had chosen to return to her normal life, so without a justified reason, why would she return? Your thought process hits a brick wall once again as you rub your tired eyes. There is only one thing left to try before you may be forced to give up. The familiar pull in your gut that you had been resisting since the day you left was finally winning. You had to go back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gate is rusted and stiff, so you have to push hard to create enough space for you to slip through and even then you almost trip on the piles of rubbish littering the driveway. You step over the buckled historical society sign with a sigh - even they had given up on the place and for some time by the looks of things. Tall weeds were growing through the now sparse gravel, even more windows had been boarded up and there were layers of faded graffiti covering the front door. It is already ajar but you have to shove it open, pushing it past the built up leaves and dust trying to wedge it closed. Although the state of the outside had saddened you, it is the interior that makes your heart sink -  it was never nice to see a beautiful old house fall into ruin.

The floorboards still gave their familiar creak under your soft footsteps, but that was about the only similarity. The sconces, once filled with dripping candles were now empty and shrouded in cobwebs, and dust motes thick enough to choke you floated in what little beams of light that made it through the windows. Without the soft piano luring you further into the house you took your time to properly look around, cautiously walking through room after room. What little furniture that hadn’t been stolen or vandalised was covered in dust sheets. The shelving sits almost empty in every room; you pass only a few odd books and trinkets still in place but almost unrecognisable underneath all the grime. 

Towards the back of the house you come to what looks like a music room and a feeling of deja vu washes over you. The grand piano still dominates the room, but when you run your fingers across what little keys are left it only lets out reluctant, discordant notes as neglected and decaying as the rest of your surroundings. The fireplace is a yawning chasm on the back wall without the welcoming fire filling it, but you remember laying on the soft rug before it where he had given and taken unimaginable pleasure from you, well at least you thought. Because it was seeming more and more likely you had imagined it. You pull yourself from your thoughts and that is when the portrait catches your eye. How you never noticed it before you don’t understand, but it hangs perfectly above the mantel and crushes the last shreds of hope you were clinging onto. 

It is him. His distinctive face paint, his perfectly styled hair and his intense mismatched eyes. At least now you know what really happened on your last visit to this place. Before you had fallen asleep you must have seen this portrait on your last visit, striking as he was and then your mind had concocted the whole fantasy. You are not sure exactly what you had been expecting returning to Crowley Manor, but you couldn’t avoid the cutting disappointment that was slicing through you. All that was here was an empty old house and a painting of a man. With one last longing look you take your leave as you fight the knot of feelings solidifying in your chest. There was nothing else for you here. You reach the foyer where the light of dusk shines around the edges of the open door, illuminating your exit from this house and your return to reality, when you hear it… 

We're standing here by the abyss…

That voice. The words were different and even the tune was different, but that voice. There was nothing else it could be but him. The alluring sound drifts down from the upper floor to where you stand and you don’t even try to resist his siren call as your feet carry you towards the grand staircase.

And the world is in flames…

Your footprints disturb the thick layers of dust covering the once grand carpet that leads the way up, but you continue unconcerned by the trail you are leaving in your wake, your only thought finding your way to the source of that beautiful sound. 

Two star-crossed lovers reaching out…

It gets clearer as you reach the upper level, but you still haven't quite found him yet. Along the landing are multiple doors that you consider as you walk, but once your eyes land on the ornate double doors at the furthest end you know inherently; that is your destination.

To the beast with many names…

The floorboards creak as you get closer and closer even as you attempt to keep your steps measured and even, but if that didn’t give you away then you are sure your laboured breathing and thundering heartbeat would. 

He is. He's the shining and the light without whom I cannot see���

The singing stops when you reach the doors and with barely a brush of your fingertips,they swing open revealing only a dark room within. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, but even that doesn’t make you hesitate to enter. It is as abandoned as the rest of this cursed house. All the anticipation you had felt soured inside you and tears pricked at your eyes as you circled in the centre of the room taking in the dusty bed and empty fireplace. Your back is turned when a sudden bang startles you, the doors slamming shut. You cry out in fear, turning in an instant and rushing towards them. Pushing and pulling is futile and they will not budge. The knowledge that you are trapped fills you with a shiver as a chill falls over the room.   

“My little lamb returns,” he growls in your ear, appearing as if from nowhere. His arms box you in against the door, his white gloves the only part of him you can see. You try to turn, to see him but his body presses close, cold and unyielding as stone behind you. You should do something, anything but fear and lust paralyse you as they tear through you in equal measure.

“You are real,” you barely whisper before his fangs sink into your neck, the sharp shock of pain stealing your consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When your eyes flutter open you find it hard to believe you are even in the same room. You are lying in the centre of a four poster bed, propped up against a mountain of airy pillows and as you shift the sheets feel unbelievably soft against your fingers. The heavy drapes are tied to the frame on one side giving you a clear view of the fireplace and the figure silhouetted against it. His back is to you, seemingly unaware that you are now awake so you take your time admiring him.

It is undoubtedly him. His hair is slicked back, familiar in both your memory and in his portrait you had not long discovered. This time he wears a white suit with gold trim that glimmers in the firelight and it is certainly one you have never seen before. He turns in your direction giving you a glimpse of his striking profile still covered in his unusual skull-like face paint. He clears his throat glancing at you and you realise he is also holding a book up to the fire light. Not just any book. That is your book. The one you had written about him. You sit bolt upright but a wave of dizziness stops you from acting any further. 

“His touch feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It scares you how much you crave it; how much you want him to keep touching you and to never stop. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest, despite the overwhelming feeling of comfort that has fallen over you.” He smirks as he reads your words back to you with an arrogance that can only come from knowing it was written about him. 

“How did you get that?” you hiss at him, the mortification you are experiencing seems to break some of the spell he has over you. He chuckles darkly in response, snapping the book shut and placing it on the nightstand so you can see the very suggestive illustration you had commissioned for the cover clearly.

“You have a way with words, agnellino.” He leans against the bedpost, running his eyes over you and watching how you react just to his presence. “Do you still crave my touch as much as you wrote?” His elongated teeth peek out of his mouth with how wide his smile is, clearly enjoying having this additional power over you. You almost miss not so long ago when you believed he had been a figment of your imagination. 

“It’s called creative licence,” you snap back breathlessly, trying your damnedest to keep your composure but you make the mistake of meeting his mismatched eyes and you are pulled under all over again. It’s like he can worm his way into your very soul and convince you of anything he desires.

“Why did you come back?” He looms over you at the end of the bed as he waits for you to answer him. As subtly as you can, you try to sit yourself up to make yourself feel less vulnerable but your limbs are weak and uncooperative.

“I’m writing again,” you start. It is the truth - or at least part of the truth - but you can tell he doesn't believe you, fixing you with his intense stare, waiting for you to be more forthcoming. “Last time I was here it was very… inspiring.”

“I see, I see.” He starts to pace next to the bed, giving you a reprieve and a chance to breathe but you sense it is by no means the end of your interrogation.  “Just ‘professional interest’ then?”

“Yes, that is all. I should go.” You try again to sit up and ease yourself off the bed but before your feet can touch the ground he kneels in front of you, blocking you from moving any further.

“Ah ah ah,” he scolds, wagging his finger at you like he was disciplining a wayward child. “You come into my home uninvited - again, I might add.” He leans close enough you can feel the cold radiating from him, his teeth bared threateningly. “I need the truth.” Fear makes you tense but somehow you know he would never really hurt you - at least not in a way you wouldn't enjoy. You start to think his irritation is more directed at your refusal to admit how much you want him rather than the fact you broke into his house. Again. 

“You lured me up here! You could have just let me leave.” That thought boosts your confidence just enough to push back. Just a little. He didn't have to reveal himself to you everytime you were here, and yet he did.

“No I couldn't, little lamb,” he whispers, a softness falling over his face. “I could never resist a chance to taste you again.” His attention drops to your feet, helping you out of your shoes before he stands again before you. “Tell me why you are really here.”  He had given you your chance to tell him of your own volition, but now you could feel his will influencing you and bringing forth the truth. He eases his jacket from his shoulders, leaving it on the floor where it falls. He makes quick work of his bow tie adding it to the pile of clothes at his feet. 

His cuff links go next, freeing him to turn up his sleeves and then his collar sliding one button free at a time until it hangs open. His toned chest is covered in thick dark hair and it's all you can do not to reach out and bury your fingers in it. Even without his vampiric lure, you would struggle to resist him. He crawls over you, forcing you to scoot back onto the bed to make room for him and you find yourself unable to speak as you get lost in his eyes.

“Tell me…” He is intoxicating and you find you no longer have the willpower to resist him. You had forgotten how powerful he was, his presence alone narrowing your mind until all you can think of is him. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but somehow they still won't come. 

“Why are you here agnellino, eh?” He holds himself over you, the only thing touching you are the open tails of his shirt, denying you any more until you obey him. “Did you miss me?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were real any more,” you admit reluctantly and his eyes alight at your delayed admission.

“Shall I remind you how real I am?” There is a voice in your mind somewhere telling you to say no, but with every other part of you screaming a resounding yes it is easy to tune out - though you still can’t quite bring yourself to say it. So you nod and he wastes no more time. His dexterous fingers make quick work of your trousers and your underwear, pulling them off you in one swift motion and then he is on you. His strong hand grasps your ankle, pulling you even closer so he can press his lips to your bare skin. 

He starts at the sole of your foot, lavishing you with open mouthed kisses and grazes of his dangerous teeth. He seeks out parts of your body you had never even known were sensitive before, whether it was his plush mouth sucking at them or tracing them with his tongue. The curve of your calf, the dip behind your knee and the crease of your inner thigh. His cool breath raises goosebumps across your skin and he chases them with his mouth, only pausing to suck on the beads of blood that bloom where he allows his fangs to nick your skin. The contrasts make you needy for more of his touch, the warm and the cold, the pleasure and the pain. When he eventually reaches your core he ceases all his teasing and devours you, his groans of pleasure vibrating through you as he laps at your entrance and sucks on your clit. 

“Every part of you tastes exquisite,” he moans again at your skin as he pulls at the hem of your shirt, allowing himself access to even more of your skin. Your bra is pulled roughly aside so he can latch onto your nipples one after the other. Losing himself in his lust, he pinches them roughly as his teeth make deliberate shallow slices in your cleavage. He suckles at them harshly, milking all the blood he can from such a surface cut. 

Eventually he reaches your neck pressing a deceptively gentle kiss to your scar from your last encounter before seeking out the fresher puncture wounds from earlier in the evening. He probes them harshly with his tongue disturbing the newly formed clots enabling him to drink freely from you until he is positively drunk on you. 

“You are so warm agnellino,” he moans, reluctantly pulling away from you only to tear off his loose shirt and rip off his trousers. He fits himself back on top of you, desperate to be as close as possible and ruts his aching length against your hip, his mouth latching back onto your neck. He rears back giving you the opportunity to see him for the hunger ridden monster he is, but it only makes you want him more. His face paint is smudged across his face, the once precise lines blurring and blending with what remains of your blood and your juices, and his eyes sparkle with something dangerous that you can't resist. With a snarl he forces your legs wide so he can see all of you, his fingers digging a bruising grip into your soft thighs.

“After tonight you will never again doubt my existence,” he growls as he fucks into you in one long, hard stroke. There is no waiting for you to grow accustomed to him filling you; he just takes you hard, pushing the air from your lungs every time he fills you. He is rough and demanding and you crave every part of this more animalistic side to him. Your blood loss and his body worship have pushed you outside your own body, the pleasure and the pain meeting and blending and pushing you into a euphoria you had never experienced before. 

Even as his control was slipping even further away, his cock aimed perfectly, fucking into you in exactly the right place over and over while the drag of him inside your tight heat forced sobs and gasps from both of you. In the state he had you, you knew you would do anything and everything he wanted and if you hadn’t been so light headed, you might have realised that that was exactly what he wanted. He grunts as he pulls you closer, angling your hips just so that he can fuck into you even deeper, your moans of satisfaction harmonising as somehow your pleasure grows stronger than you ever thought possible. 

“Has anyone fucked you like this since me, little lamb?” He is panting, hardly able to get his words out, somehow seeming more human even in the midst of his monstrous lust. 

“No,” you whine. There is no use denying it, because who could possibly compare to him?

“Bene,” he snarls, a possessive sneer crossing his face. “No one will ever, ever fuck you like me.’ You sob in agreement as the burn in your core grows, bringing you so close. Babbled nonsense falls from your lips. You can only hope he understands how little you need to push you over the edge. 

Thankfully something you said must have made sense, because in the next moment his thumb is stroking your clit in time with his ever more frantic thrusts and the wave of your climax begins to crash, sweeping you along in its powerful tide. Your vision greys at the edges and vaguely, somewhere amidst the buzz, you feel him reach his peak just behind you as his thrusts stutter before stilling as he fills you.

Inelegantly he pulls away, landing beside you on the bed. He pulls you to him stroking your hair and dotting your forehead with sweet kisses. Contentment surges through you as you rest against his chest, his lack of heartbeat barely registering. 

“You are so very sleepy, little lamb,” he breathes into your hair, and you can only spare a thought to agree as you succumb to the overwhelming pull of sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold and stale morning air lures you from your sleep this time, a much less pleasant awakening than your last. Your whole body aches as you shift and try to take in your surroundings. You are alone. The dawn light spilling through the drapes allows you to see, and the bedroom appears dusty and abandoned, not the cosy boudoir you had experienced last night. 

The dusty sheets cling to your clothes as you try to stand but every movement reveals a new bite mark or bruise until you are on your feet. The worst pain though, is the ache in your heart. This should have been expected and yet the fact that he isn't here hurts. Rather than satisfying you, this second encounter only made you yearn more for this terrible, mysterious man. Your only consolation was that now at least, you will have plenty more to write about. 

You don't try to call out to him, already knowing how futile that would be, so you look once more around the room, trying hard to commit it all to memory when the night stand catches your attention. A single white rose sits atop a folded piece of paper. You pick them both up, carefully making sure to avoid the sharp thorns and unfold the paper to see that unmistakable handwriting. 

We’re standing here by the abyss

And the world is in flames

Two star-crossed lovers reaching out

To the beast with many names 

He is

He’s the shining and the light without whom I cannot see

-iii

His words were cryptic as ever but you let it fill you with uncertain hope. Maybe you were the star-crossed lovers? Or maybe not. All you knew for now at least, was that you felt you were still at the very beginning of this story…

…and you couldn't wait to see where it would take you. 

[rqsser]

Could I interest you in a photographer!John and reluctant model!Gale AU? In this universe, Benny runs an animal rescue, and to help raise funds, he blackmails convinces his friends to pose for a fireman-esque calendar. Brady knows John and convinces John to do the photo shoot gratis. John picks up on Gale's uneasiness and figures out what Gale needs in order to be comfortable with the shoot. Gale's photos end up being the best (sexiest) of the lot.

i’m finally catchinf up on my asks!!!! this hasn’t been in my inbox for too long but. i also haven’t answered it… love the idea anon!:)

->cross-posted on ao3<-

—

John has much better things he could be doing. As a private photographer, he’s been booked up for months in advanced, and he’s liked knowing his schedule like that. When Brady asked him about a shoot for his friend, he was reluctant to accept. Then he was given the specifics about where the money would be going, and agreed.

He was given free range for the theme, but was also prompted one very obviously, a firefighter calendar. It’s a good one, and most often a best seller. No doubts that it will raise more than enough money for Brady’s friend’s (Benny?) animal rescue shelter.

The only thing John is not looking forward to is the cocky models who think that they’re better than everyone. Simply being attractive doesn’t make you immediately superior.

At first, he was worried that he’d have to send out an ad for models, which he hates doing. Brady did mention as a last minute thing that Benny already has people in mind and that he’s just waiting for responses, so no pressure on him.

A few days ago, when John had an opening because a client had to cancel, eleven of the twelve models showed up to get their photos taken. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Benny had recommended a woman, Sandra, her name was. She was sweet, and definitely fit the firefighter scene. Maybe not as an actual one, but it just suited her well.

John had been annoyed that he wasn’t able to get the whole thing done with in one day. He understood that the guy, Gale, was helping Benny at the shelter, but was still peeved about it.

Now, it’s late, almost eleven at night. He wasn’t able to reschedule any of his appointments, so got stuck with an extra-long day. He’s not even being paid for this; Brady’s just calling him in for a favour.

He’s setting up his camera and a green screen background. John would’ve preferred something outside, but it’s too late and dark for that. Hopefully this whole thing can be over with in less than an hour, but probably not.

When John hears footsteps coming towards him, he hastily looks up from where he’s crouched down at his camera. Just to get a glimpse of the guy’s physique and what he’d look best in. Gale isn’t facing him, putting his things down tucked away in a corner of the smaller room.

The camera is fine for now. John’d better introduce himself so they don’t have an awkward shoot without speaking.

“Hi, I’m John Egan, nice to meet you,” he says as he stands up and walks over to where Gale is still organizing his things. Which admittedly isn’t a lot.

Gale turns around right as John finishes his greeting, his eyes wide and nervous-looking. Never mind Gale’s face absolutely being billboard-worthy, his entire stance is closed off and shy. He’s trying to meet John’s gaze, but his nerves seem to be getting the better of him. He’s harshly chewing on his bottom lip, and it’s silent for a second too long.

“Um. Gale Cleven,” he offers quietly after a moment. Gale hesitantly reaches out his hand for John to shake, which he does.

He ignores the whole awkwardness of the air, and gets to the details. “Alright, this is a private shoot, so nobody else should see you, especially this late at night. There’s a change room just in the next room over.” John turns and digs out the jacket, pants, and hat from the bin he’s borrowing. “Go put these on then we’ll start.”

Gale nods wordlessly and spins on his heel and leaves to get changed. John returns to his camera.

Ten minutes later, Gale reemerges to the studio. He has his shirt on still and is carrying the jacket instead of wearing it, and John realizes that he’s dealing with a camera-shy model. John schools his frustration and puts on a smile instead.

“Okay, Gale, you just need to lose the shirt and put the jacket on,” John more tells him then asks, but has to courtesy of not looking at Gale. He hears fabric hitting the floor after a second.

It’s more painful than he anticipated it to be. Gale’s whole body is rigid and his face seems uncomfortable. Why become a model if you’re going to be so self-conscious and not perform properly? Forty minutes pass, and John is less than pleased with what he has.

John stands up fully from where he was bent down awkwardly. “Gale, have you ever modelled before?”

All of his questions are answered when Gale reluctantly shakes his head. “No. Benny guilted me into this. He said I got all the good genes and I couldn’t let them go to waste.” His voice sounds so defeated and upset. John’s frustration probably wasn’t helping with how anxious he was.

He nodded. “Let’s talk while we’re doing this, then. Make you less jittery, yeah?” Gale takes a deep breath and agrees.

Things flow smoothly, for the most part, after John decided to actually talk to Gale. He seemed more confident in showing off his body and lean muscles, following John’s directions. Which some were just for his eyes to see. Sometimes he would go up and adjust some things himself just because he could, and he likes the heat that radiates off of Gale’s body in such a cold room.

He had Gale lose the jacket for some, just his bare torso, the pants, and hat. His favourite part is how well the suspenders on the pants held up against his body. Some of Gale’s side profile, some of him with a hose from a truck, some of him sitting down, fanning himself, water dripping from his hair. John had to take his sweater off half way through.

They had nice conversations, and the time went by a lot quicker than John wanted it to. He got to learn about Gale’s love for animals, his distaste for sports and liquor. Gale found out about John’s own love for sports, baseball especially, and how much he hates toddlers birthday parties.

Their time comes to a close at almost two in the morning. John waits for Gale to get changed and get his things, he packs up his camera and takes down the green screen. He walks Gale to his car, and tells him that he did well for his first time. However that may have sounded to either of them.

“Thank you,” Gale says quietly, and the darkness hides the way his cheeks heat up.

“Can I get your number?” John blurts out immediately after. To which Gale stares at him bewildered, and looking very embarrassed. “Shit. So I can send you the pictures and ask questions, or something.”

Gale raises an eyebrow at the tacked on or something, and pulls out his phone from his pocket. John quickly puts in his number and bids Gale a goodnight.

—

The next day, over John’s lunch break, he’s editing pictures from the first shoot he did for the calendar. He gets a text from an unknown number.

Do my pictures look good?

This is Gale btw

John smiles and picks up his phone.

Haven’t gotten to them yet

What month do u want?

December

People can wait an entire year before they get me on their wall ;)

Well, he’s a lot more comfortable over text.

Aye aye

He ends up picking one of Gale where his hair is damp and his jacket is hardly visible on the floor. His eyes are closed and he’s biting down on his lip slightly, head turned and his hand reaching up to touch his neck, leaned back in a way that looks natural. John edits the background to a general smoky-forest blurred out image; it’s not the main focus. He likes Gale’s photos the best.

All of the chosen images get sent over to Brady, then to Benny, who is forever thankful for John.

A week later, the calendars are printed and are displayed at Benny’s animal rescue shelter. Unsurprisingly, they were sold out in less than a couple of days and Benny raised more than enough money for upgrades on things. John mostly only came in so often afterwards to see if Gale was volunteering, which he usually was.

John has gotten messages about the calendar that made him laugh especially hard, even sending a few to Gale.

why did you put the hottest guy last????

Please I need 1000 more of these release all of the pictures you took

You wouldn’t happen to have more of the december guy would you…?

Everyone’s names were pasted underneath their image alongside John’s, no one seemed to care enough to read them. Not that Gale minded, just that people have started to talk to him when they see him in public, complete strangers, talking to an extremely introverted person. At least his responses were less exasperated and funnier.

Never thought that I would get an appeal from selling how I look to people

Should I model more?

Seems like it’s doing more for me than any job I’ve ever had has

I will support u in anything Gale

—

i’m sorry but firefighter calendars look so stupid to me. they’re so awkward

[ikemenomegas]

in light of gojo's unsealing, ive thought about diff cute scenarios

gojo being the type of person to get his mate's phone and snap hundreds of pictures of his face

this would probably never happen given gojo's privacy when it comes to his marriage but in a different world i can see this happening Gojo naming his alpha as "mochi seller' on his phone and Itadori seeing the message pop out from the lock screen and accidentally somewhat outing gojo's rs when he asks him in front of the other students why the mochi seller sent an ily message

the tender moments where gojo lets his infinity down or lets his alpha inside his infinity and he gets to relish in the warmth of their skin

the sappy things gojo's alpha has to sometimes do whenever gojo gets too rowdy and they need to placate him for whatever reason (re: alpha reading a map together with nanami scenario)

gojo sending his alpha a picture of two rocks by the sidewalk with the caption: 'us'

gojo asking his alpha if they would still love him if he was a worm and the alpha saying: "no<33"

Awww! These were really cute anon! Very happy ending which I feel like we're going to need a lot of in the coming weeks...

(Also I ran with it but why is their name "mochi seller" haha)

[Ao3 link for those who prefer chapters]

⬖ Photomaton

"Device storage insufficient, please move or delete files to make room?" you read, nonplussed.

Nobara sighed. "Sensei, I showed you how to do that weeks ago."

"I did do it." You frowned, opening up your files. Why were there so many pictures...

Nobara rolled her eyes at you and beat a hasty retreat when your hand went to your mouth as your face went warm.

There were rows and rows of photos, none of which you had taken.

Most of them were selfies, but some of them were obviously the result of Satoru propping the phone up and attempting to pose for the camera.

He must have been swiping your phone every time you left it sitting out or went to sleep. He didn't rest much, but there were so many, more probably than you'd been able to take in the last five years.

There wasn't much thought for such things when you only saw one another a handful of days every month. The focus had gone to managing the present, not on taking pictures. You'd only really thought to regret it after that terrible Halloween, when you worried you'd never see him again.

Some of the photos framed Satoru inside one of your homes. Others were almost ugly shots, taken way too close, or blurred with motion artifact. There were pictures of him haloed in the night glow of streetlights or washed out in the halogen light of a konbini. There were those made grainy with low light and some that took your breath away because he was nice looking.

Furtively, you looked up but were alone and you silently thanked your student's exasperated impatience. A few of the photos showed just too much skin to be exactly proper.

You thumbed down. The pictures were a story all their own revealing some of what Satoru did when alone and you savored the honesty. You had to keep apart from one another for so long.

The last thing in the camera roll was a video.

It opened with the shuffling sounds and the wobbling display of someone walking. Satoru wound around furniture in the darkened interior of your apartment.

"I'm home. You're asleep right now," he said lowly, "probably won't be later. I don't know how most people can sleep so much." He spoke half to himself, the deep night laying over his words like velvet.

There was the sound of the door to the little balcony opening and then the faint tinkle of the glass bells hanging from the eaves.

"Must be nice," he mused, "you get to miss a lot."

The image on the screen steadied as he rested your phone on the rail. The familiar view of the city resolved as faint golden starbursts of light. The rustling of Satoru's clothing faded until all you could hear was the faint rush of night wind and his breathing.

The video went on for over a quarter of an hour. You scrolled your fingers across the screen. He didn't move, the picture stayed the same. You leaned against a wall and listened to the last few moments, your heartbeat low and slow, your breath in sync with his from some time both here and long ago.

Satoru spoke, amused over the night-sounds:

"Don't delete this. I'll know."

⬖ Daifuku

"Good job," Gojo congratulated his dust-stained students as the veil fell.

Maki and Toge glared while Yuuji gave him a tired thumbs up from where he was laying on the ground.

"Dinner is on me tonight." Gojo ignored their halfhearted grumbling. "Decide where you want to go."

He anticipated a larger than normal ding to his wallet, but they'd earned it (and it wasn't as though he couldn't afford it). Beating this curse was no minor feat and it had been a particularly crafty one, which was why Gojo had gone with them just in case.

The students made noises of acknowledgement with varying levels of anticipation, but to no one's surprise, Yuuji was the first to roll over and dig around for his phone.

He tapped the screen and groaned.

"Sensei, mine's dead. Can I use yours?"

Gojo unlocked it and passed it over without a thought. He wasn't particularly hungry, the kids could figure this out without his interference for once.

"Um, Gojo-sensei?"

"Hm?"

"Why is a "mochi seller" reminding you to stop at the pharmacy and sending you heart emojis?"

With uncanny synchrony, Maki and Toge's heads turned to look at their teacher.

The phone in Yuuji's hand buzzed faintly.

"I love you?" he read, sounding alarmed.

Toge's eyes went a bit wide but a grin that curled a bit too much at the edges and showed teeth took over Maki's face.

"Text back," she said, scrambling to her feet.

With all her quickness, she swooped in and snatched the phone when Yuuji hesitated.

The phone buzzed once more.

"I'll be home by 8:30, probably," she read.

Gojo took advantage of Maki's triumphant look to slip the device from her grip.

"I knew it!" she pointed at him. "I knew you were hiding something."

"Grown ups hide lots of things," he replied blithely. He was confident none of the students could tell that moment had been more like someone walking over his grave.

It was not as though he intended to hide his relationship with you. Hide implied shame, concealment on the other hand had been security and was harder to let go of. There would come a moment when the kids prised the truth from him. He was not about to have that moment with his kids now, or hopefully ever, because they accidentally read his texts out loud.

Maki reached for his phone and he easily tipped out of her way, walking off and heading towards a neighborhood he knew (and the students did not) had a lot of very good restaurants.

He was silently very thankful when the implied threat of no food at all distracted the students. Or at least had Yuuji barreling past Maki and kindly dropping the matter in favor of promising to "only look at the map this time, was there a good katsudon place nearby?"

⬖ Goose Down

Satoru spotted you hunched over a rail with your umbrella open overhead, held in the crook of your elbow.

He could tell from the set of your shoulders that the summer sun was getting to you, despite the cursed tool taking a majority of the pressure off.

Your energy was butter yellow and burnt red and lithium pink, mixing slowly around your body as you slowly cycled power into the umbrella and the short sword held loosely in your hands.

Satoru ducked around a corner and took a peak at your face. Your eyes were closed.

Smirking quietly to himself, he crept around, Infinity a barrier between himself and the world. For just a little longer...

You jumped when he dropped it, nearly dropping your sword and automatically holding the umbrella high enough for him to fit under it.

"Hah-"

"Speechless?"

You gaped at him, mouth hanging open.

He nodded as if you'd just confirmed it. "This is what they don't tell you about marriage. Making someone's heart race is important even after the wedding. We'll probably be together forever at this rate."

You mouth closed and then went a little wobbly.

"It's hot," you finally said, miserably. "And it's too sunny."

He couldn't hold back his laughter as he stepped closer and folded himself around you. Your scent tingled pleasantly in his nose and your skin was warm from both heat and light, like a sun-warmed blanket.

"Oh," you said faintly, "you're cool," and you all but melted against him.

"You could just go inside," Satoru said. "I sent the students off on an adventure. We wouldn't be bothered."

"That sounds nice," you murmured, but didn't make any move away from him.

He didn't either. He didn't feel much like letting go yet.

⬖ Orange Kazoo

Sometimes, you reminded yourself through your already strained patience, Satoru just needed to be left alone to make noise.

For a moment, you considered begging him for just a little peace, but you knew he was doing this for your benefit. Shibata Kin was a difficult pill to swallow.

"I never expected anyone to send Six Eyes to join us."

It was the weakest and most recent of Shibata's barbs. The oily way he said it and the implication that anyone would dare to subordinate Satoru to this boot licker rankled.

Satoru crinkled the package extra loud on a bit of melon bread and smiled. "I was in the neighborhood."

He took a bite, chewed and swallowed while you flipped through the mission report on a clipboard.

You sighed, exhaling your worry, and handed it back. "Let's go then. It looks like all the victims disappeared from the same place so we should start there."

That place was a building that straddled a moderately busy subway station and stacked part of a shopping mall, a cluster of private clinics, and a cram school all on top of each other.

Satoru trailed behind through the store, stopping at kiosks and chatting with saleswomen, picking up and putting down objects.

You could feel Shibata's irritation transform into something far less internal as he turned to you.

"He's like a child," he remarked coolly. "Sure we shouldn't just ditch him? The curse doesn't sound that hard to deal with since I've got you."

When you ignored him, he kept talking.

"He shouldn't even be here," the man drawled.

You shrugged. "Well he is."

Shibata sourly appeared to swallow whatever else he wanted to say. You turned around to see where Satoru had gone to. The thought of being stuck with the bitter other sorcerer was worse than waiting for them to pick their bickering back up.

He waved a stuffed cat in sunglasses at you and nodded eager agreement when you pointed out a cute little sparrow holding an umbrella on a shelf behind him. Sometimes, it was best to just humor Satoru and play along.

When you turned back, Shibata Kin was gone.

Since you were all concealing your residuals from the curse you expected was in the building, you had no idea where he went.

You looked over your shoulder. Satoru was gone too.

Well.

You tapped your fingers over your pocket and then decided to let them go. Satoru always seemed to know where to find you and Shibata had called you here as backup. You should probably go kill what you were looking for before it nibbled on him.

Many fewer curses than you expected lingered in the shopping mall. They were bizarre places with as many secret passageways as an ancient castle. Away from the popular shops and crowds, it quickly grew quiet and the bright gleam of displays gave way to more neglected halls.

On your way, you passed a small bank of capsule machines. You crouched down, and smiled faintly to yourself. Abandoned in the furthest reach of the shopping mall, almost near to where a service entrance lead to another stretch of winding halls and tunnels, the items here were both ancient (by city standards) and ridiculous.

Packages of candy that still held their shine but were likely far past their expiration date sat beside tiny figurines of a frog-shaped toddler in a little red hat. You grimaced back at those and moved on.

Near the end of the row was a machine that sold tiny musical instruments, plastic and paper and probably terrible sounding, but it wasn't expired food or frog children. You stuck a few coins into the slot and turned the dial.

An acid green ball spat out from the slot.

You picked at the latches on its side while you found your way further and further into the little used corridors.

There was a flash of something, like a burst of camera illumination from behind a door on your right.

You slipped through it, pulling your blade free from its sheath at the small of your back, and emerged into a tunnel that looked to be connecting to the nearby subway station. Not far ahead, the darkened path split into two.

You flipped the sword around so its blunt edge rested against your forearm and sprinted, dashing across the intersection.

A blur of motion came at you. As it grazed by, you snatched at that movement and sprang into the air, high enough to crouch on the ceiling of the tunnel.

The curse was a near perfect twin of the one a little ways down the way the attack had come, which should have maybe been your first hint. The one that had come at you was grinning, its face a rictus mockery of a theater mask.

They both sat, crouched like toads. You feinted toward the one that had come towards you, and at the last minute flew down to the other, its mouth bent in a painted looking frown.

It backed up in surprise, but not far enough and your blade nicked through the face, which was hard like dense wood. The air around your other hand shimmered in heat, as you struck for the thing's cavernous eyes.

It emitted a furious, scolding gurgle that almost reminded you of some of the window teachers from high school, and swallowed the burst of heat before it could crackled around it into full flame.

You hardly had time to reinforce your body with cursed energy before you were blasted from two directions, letting the momentum carry you and trying to wrap the more opposing forces and the roaring sound of displaced air into your own cursed energy. But something about it resisted you, and you were unable to absorb as much of the attack as you usually would.

A racking shiver radiated through your body right before you were caught by a broad hand on your back.

"Hi," Satoru said sweetly.

"Hi," you panted, automatic, eyes still fixed on the curse.

"What's going on?"

You looked up at him with incredulity.

Hoisted in his other arm was the limp body of your other companion.

Satoru's head cocked to the side, curious as he looked at the curse.

"I don't know yet. I hit it and then--" the mask of the frowning curse was ash blasted and the notch from your first strike still there, but it was not as damaged as expected.

You regained your footing and stood upright.

"If I give it another go I think I can figure it out."

He tilted his head.

You sized up the two curses waiting outside the reach of Satoru's infinity.

"Oh." You reached into your pocket and handed him the green orb.

"What's this?"

"Dunno," you said with a faint smile. "I got it for you."

"Aww, you shouldn't have."

Maybe not. Satoru thinks gachapon are funny, you should show him the line of machines if you get out of here the same way you come in, then he can choose something himself. You still have a few coins on you.

You flew at the grinning curse, both hands on the hilt of your blade, cursed energy flashing into a point a good six inches out from where the metal itself ended.

You held, crystalizing your own movement for a moment and stared deep into the thing's empty eyes.

It twitched, and then its arm moved and you slashed downward, intending to cleave the limb away.

The blade hit, you knew it did. You were able to dodge the attack you anticipated from the smiling curse. The frowning curse in front of you struck back, almost at the same time.

You pulled on some of the reserved momentum you'd held back in your initial strike and barely twisted out of the way.

You lifted the gleeful cackles of the twinned curses from the air and tried to twist them into a crackling rope of flame to surround the grinning one again. As you had expected, the damage did not seem to completely take and you were forced to duck when a bolt of heat tried to sear your back, culminating in another blast that shook the tunnel and thew you once more.

"That's enough."

Satoru appeared at your side again, pulling you back behind the shield of his power when the curse's retaliation threatened to cut through you.

"This one's a bad match for your technique," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Is it reflecting through the faces?" you asked, catching your breath.

He hummed.

Absently, you realized you could scent the sharp, fresh smell of citrus on his breath - the smell of the biting orange flavored candy you'd shared with him on the train ride here.

"If it reflects yours too--" you trailed off. What you did was firmly in the realm of the "real" and Satoru's abilities were not. If this curse were to reflect back blue, or red, or heaven forbid purple... well you'd never seen or asked up until if Satoru could stop his own techniques. It seemed a tactical oversight in this moment.

Satoru stepped forward.

"Stabilize him," he instructed flatly. He'd tossed Shibata Kin's still body where he had been standing barely a minute before.

The curses had moved closer and pressed together, beginning to meld into one another before your eyes. The damage you had already done was fading further.

You knelt at Shibata's side, shaking back your sleeves. "You know this is going to poison him."

You carefully set two fingers underneath his right collarbone, and three a few ribs below his heart on the left and focused in on the flickers of electricity that powered a human body.

"Oh well." Satoru's grin was a baring of teeth. "He'll get over it better than being dead."

You could sense the arrhythmic flutter of Kin's heart, like the popping scatter of an overloaded lamp, like a fractured version of that flash you had sensed earlier.

"You know he was trying to set you up right?" Satoru asked as he batted away an experimental chunk of rubble the curse tossed his way with a flick of his wrist. The stone was aimed right for the face of the smiling curse and even as it hit, it seemed to bounce back, hitting Satoru's shield and falling to the ground.

You sparked a bit of your energy to pure electricity, sending it jumping from one side of Shibata Kin's chest to the other.

"It crossed my mind," you admitted, murmuring as you concentrated. "But I didn't pursue the thought."

Satoru snorted. Yes, alright it was more likely you'd decided thinking about it too hard was going to distract you from the mission but you were here anyway.

You counted the pulse of electricity between your fingers to your own heartbeat until Kin's matched, or at least matched better than before.

When you pulled your hands away, Satoru cracked his knuckles. It looked like he was going to go in for physical attacks.

"You might need to manage the tunnel," he said.

Yet another reason this was a bad match up, not just for you but for him. Satoru did best in wide open spaces where he had room to move and didn't need to worry too much about collateral damage. Dropping a ton of rock on your heads and collapsing the buildings above sounded like a thing that could happen.

You had barely pressed your hands to the ground when Satoru was off like a shot.

The curse wasn't that strong - a high end second grade or low level first grade at best given that it wasn't itself attacking to provoke a response - but it split into those two halves of itself and reformed again as needed to minimize the impacts Satoru rained upon it or flank him.

Limitless lay against his skin between each strike so he remained unmarked, but the cavernous space still rocked with noise and dust shook from the gaps between tiles. You steadied it best you could, absorbing the oscillations and dampening the noise.

It did not take long for the frowning curse to realize what you were doing and send the smiling one racing for you. With one hand on the ground and one on your sword, brimming with unspent potential, you raised the point.

"Nah ah." This seemed at once to you and the monster charging your way. Satoru appeared in its path and bodily kicked it away.

It did not take long after for the twinned curses to be dispatched. Although the only reason you weren't holding your breath is because you were gritting your teeth with the effort of holding the ground together and trying not to shake apart yourself.

Satoru in motion, in a fight, particularly when physical constraint demanded more of his ingenuity, was always a sight to behold.

He came back to you looking unfairly dewy post exertion, with his hair in a sort of windswept disarray, the fabric around his shoulders bunched up. He shrugged out the wrinkles and dusted off his hands.

Your briefly pressed a hand to his knee after you steadied the last tremor from the ground.

"Thank you."

Satoru tapped his forefinger twice against your temple as he walked by. "A feedback loop between you and that thing would have been very messy."

You stood up, swaying slightly.

Even though Satoru would have happily dragged Shibata to the exit point, you insisted on tugging him upright and at least moving him through the air to a place where the three of you could safely rest and call a car.

You had settled him against a wall and were calling Akari when he finally stirred.

"What happened?" Shibata asked weakly.

You turned around to look at him and from Shibata Kin's tepid expression and the sound of shifting cloth behind you, you assumed Satoru must have copied your movement.

Still, you gave him a faint smile and couched down beside him. He didn't have the strength to move away as you grabbed his wrist and felt his pulse. It was thready, but he'd be good enough to get the rest of the way above ground until an actual doctor could take a look at hime.

"We're all alive," you explained unnecessarily.

Shibata Kin's eyes moved from your face to over your shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and upper lip.

From behind you came a buzzing hum, somewhat approximating a sad tuba. Waa wa wa waaaaaaaa, it trailed off.

Satoru had a the wide end of a grape purple kazoo held between his teeth, his sunglasses already exchanged for the bandages he'd had wrapped around his eyes.

Only just in time, you ducked your face into your shoulder and hid a smile.

⬖ Pet rock

You were walking down some quiet residential street, trying to match the map to the trail of the curse you were tracking. It was not very intelligent, but it had a pernicious little ability to draw other curses to it under the banner of a powerful command. You'd been swatting third and fourth grades out of the air as you chased it, trying to wear down its arsenal.

It wasn't a terribly good strategy however and the thing had been winding its way through side streets to buy time. If you could get in closer, you could chop away at more of its train of screaming fears, maybe get a head start on the main peril. Thus the attempt at navigating and figuring out its destination so you could cut it off.

At least Hirano-san would be happy. Maybe. Culling curses required balance; they were their own little ecosystem. As long as the things aren't eating anyone, a certain amount of apex predators in an area could be a deterrent, like the old practice of putting powerful relics out like roach traps. Have the inevitable critters fight and eat one another rather than their human hosts.

A notification popped up over the map, and then another after it.

You felt your shoulders drop as you recentered yourself with a faint smile.

At your hotel later that night, you recalled that Satoru had sent you a message. You fell onto the bed, wrapped up in the hotel bathrobe.

It was... nice, knowing that someone was waiting at home for you. Or if not at home, he was still busy as ever, out there in the world somewhere, thinking of you. Weirdly normal.

The message was a picture. You blinked up at it. Two little rocks and a flower growing out of a crack in the pavement to shade over them.

>> ?

Almost immediately you saw three dots appear.

<< it's us!

Is it? you thought skeptically, looking at the picture again.

The dots again.

<< You don't think so :(?

Your phone was buzzing in your hand before you had even a moment to answer.

It startled you enough to drop the phone.

Owww

"You took so long to answer. This is photography, are you discouraging my new passion? It could go on a greeting card."

The word salad was meaningless and silly, weightless.

"I dropped you on my nose," you said, eyes closed as you rubbed the spot the corner of your case had hit.

"Were you that surprised by it?"

A pause.

"It's cute." The notion of it and the fact that he'd sent it to you was cute.

"It is cute right?" His voice was bright but not overly loud through the phone, for which you were grateful, already settling into warmth. "The flower is poisonous too."

You curled up on your side and held the phone close. Maybe he'd get lucky and you would find something cute to send back to him.

⬖ Puddle jumping

a/n: You have no idea how much googling I had to do to figure out what the prompt meant. I am not on the tick-tock app lol or, I've found, a fan of this meme... the implication that girlfriends ask useless questions as a rule seems sort of meh. So I mostly kept to my original response to this which was "i don't know what that is and honestly probably neither does alpha"

Satoru was herding you down the sidewalk, occasionally listing one way or the other to get you out of the way of other pedestrians. Sometimes he did it for the simple fascination of how you swayed along by him like you were on a tether. Even while you eyes were all but fixed skyward, you stayed roughly the same distance from him.

It was the first day of sun after days of rain and also one of the first days he had off with you in so many apart. He had been too restless the day before, back off a bad mission that had more to do with the desperate unpredictability of people than the intrinsic darkness of curses. You had not resisted him when he drew you out, stifled by the low clouds and humidity and longing for openness. Even with Infinity blocking the rain, it had felt like being closed in again.

Relieved of their burden, the clouds had gone from iron grey to diaphanous white and pealed up and away in swaths like billowing curtains. This is what you were watching - their retreat from the earth. They had come so low they wrapped around skyscrapers and telephone poles on their back to their usual place.

Satoru watched the drowned earth. You had cut through a tree lined walk. The rich soil was churned and muddy and the long bodies of worms that had been washed out or crawled up were strewn about.

Your and Satoru's steps made no mark as he stretched Infinity over and around the two of you. Neither of you tread upon those blind, waterlogged creatures.

Satoru stepped behind you to allow a cluster of high schoolers to pass and hid a faint wrinkle of his nose as they squealed and ran by, realizing they were stepping on some of the remains.

Your umbrella was folded and carried at your side, and you tilted your head back at him, looking a little sun-drunk. He smiled at you. He could see the reflection of the sky in your gaze.

He adopted a pout, snickering internally as you immediately seemed to regain some awareness and a wary anticipation entered your expression.

"Would you still like me if I was a worm?" he asked.

You blinked at him. "Is this one of those things you learned from the kids?"

He slouched a bit, crowding into your space. "Would you still love me if I was a worm," he wheedled.

"Are you turning into a worm?" you asked, slightly panicked, hand going to his arm as though to check if he was going as wet and floppy as the poor things on the ground.

"I'm going to turn into one if you don't answer my question."

The last of the distracted fog lifted from your eyes as you shook yourself. You took his hand and pulled him close to let another couple pass you on the walk. They inclined their head in thanks.

There was no rush to get where you were going and you tugged him along a smaller path that cut under a row of thick-branched trees so you could walk side by side unimpeded.

"I still liked you when you were a semi-sentient six sided die," you pointed out, smiling slightly.

"It's not the same," he whined a bit, drawing out the words in a sing-song fashion.

"Isn't it? I'm not sure a die eight kilometers under the ocean is more useful than a worm."

"Hmph."

"Although I really hope the worm thing is hypothetical."

"Why?"

"Because with our luck that would mean I'm a worm too."

Satoru huffed a faint sound of amusement. "Nooo. You'd still be some kind of bird." He patted your back. "Don't worry I'll make sure to crawl out late so you can still be in time to eat me all up."

"... Are you propositioning me or telling me to hurry up?"

"Walk faster or I'll step on the backs of your shoes."

You did. The two of you walked faster and faster until you were all but chasing one another out of the park, laughing lightly as you dodged the spots of wet on the ground.

[silencedrowns]

Wig Seller Masterlist

Some people on were asking if I had a post about this and I didn’t, so I thought I’d make a big master post of wig companies I like! It’s in alphabetical order, with information about them listed afterwards. Currently I have fifteen brands on this list, but if I try and am really impressed by another, I’ll add it. I hope maybe one of them has that hard to find wig you’ve been searching for! I have the color samples for Arda, Assist, Classe, Coscraft, Cyperous, Kasou, and Swallowtail and am willing to help you check if a color from them is correct or not.

Airily

Japan only brand, so you’ll need a shopping service. Wide range of colors, including some that are hard to match in other lines, and a lot of base styles that I like more than other brands. Sells both wefts and lace front pieces. Lace hairline wigs are also available. Fit is medium (not particularly large or small). Price is higher. Swatch book not available.

Alice Garden/aiyaya

Amazon wig brand selling lolita/natural looking wigs. The variety is not good but if they have something that looks like what you need to wear with very little styling, you won’t get something as nice for the price! Styles are all very natural looking. Fit is on the smaller end of medium. Price is low. Swatch book not available.

Aoi Wig

Taobao brand doing character wigs, so a shopping service is required. These are hands down the best character wigs I’ve ever worked with. If you don’t want to do a ton of styling and they have the character you want, you literally cannot go wrong here. Fiber isn’t the world’s most durable but will hold up for multiple wears, and the price is good enough to make up for it. Fit is slightly small but larger than most taobao wigs. Price is a bit high for taobao but is still dirt cheap for what you get. Swatch books not available but the photo color is exceedingly accurate.

Arda Wigs

American based. One of the most common brands for a REASON! Wide range of colors in a wide range of styles. If you have a larger head or a lot of hair, this is your new best friend. They sell lace fronts but not individual lace pieces. The big problem with them, however, is the stock issues. Colors run out quickly so sometimes you have to compromise on which style you buy, or place an order from one of their sister sites in another country that actually has the color you need. (OOPS this is no longer an option anymore! Luckily there are a lot of Arda wigs secondhand online.) Nobody has as much hair in their wigs as they do, which can actually be a problem in some styles; be prepared to pluck lace fronts and use thinning shears. Fit is LARGE; they have the largest wigs in the market. Price is a bit high but not exorbitant. Swatch rings are available for both their fiber types

Assist

Japanese brand, ships worldwide but EMS/fedex only so you’ll probably want to group order. Nobody in the market has as many colors as Assist; between their premium and basic lines, they have over 600 colors! DO NOT TRUST THEIR PRODUCT PHOTOGRAPHY TO PICK COLORS; you need to buy their swatch books or ask a friend who has them to help you choose, because those photos can be criminally inaccurate. If you ever order from them, buy a bottle of Face Cover Glue and watch it change your life as “wig sticks away from face and face framing pieces move out of place” become a distant memory, and I adore their contacts! They sell wefts and lace pieces in their premium line but not their basic. Price varies; Premium line is a great price for what you get, but Basic is incredibly cheap (but not quite as good quality). Fit is small; based on how they fit my clients they’re the smallest of the Japanese brands and if you’ve ever found taobao wigs too small, assist will probably also be too small for you. Swatch books or rings are available and also required.

Blue Beard

Taobao character wig brand, so shopping service is required. Blue Beard wigs are all affordable and decent. You won’t ever get a bad wig from them, but I’ve found that their wigs tend to require a lot of maintenance. Wide range of characters! No wefts available. When you find stolen taobao wig photos, more often than not they’re stealing from Blue Beard. The photos are all color accurate, but you’ll typically need to do a lot of styling to make the wig match the photo. Price is great for what you get. Fit is medium to small. No swatches available.

Classe

Japanese brand that requires a shopping service but oh what a brand it is. Classe has a wide range of colors but where it truly excels is in the range of extra styling supply options. You can buy lace front pieces, yes, but you can also buy stand alone skin top pieces in center whorl or long for parts. No brand is as flexible with what you can do with their wigs, not by a long shot. Make sure to check out their styling blog! Even if it’s all in Japanese, the diagrams are clear and the techniques are genuine life savers. The fiber is beautiful and the website’s color suggestion feature where the desktop version tells you a list of characters they’d use this color for makes picking colors a lot easier. You’ll pay a lot for them, but what you get will be worth it. I’ve been using them a lot lately because no other brand’s fiber is as easy to make behave like human hair. Naturalistic wig stylists and cosmetology people, this brand is for you! Fit is up to 59cm (!!) and is roomy in the hairline coverage to the point some people have to trim the ear tabs a bit shorter, although it’s my personal comfiest fit. (Upon further testing: Classe’s fit is going to be perfect for you if you’ve ever tried an Arda lacefront and found it somehow a bit too big in the cap but too skimpy in the ear and hairline coverage at the same time.) Swatch books are available and affordable.

Coscraft

Based in the UK but ships worldwide despite being way too unknown outside Europe. Coscraft is an absolute gem of a site with a wide range of colors (more than 80!) with plenty of unusual color options that aren’t found anywhere else that doesn’t need a shopping service, a decently large variety of base styles to choose from, and wefts and separate lace front pieces and stick on skin tops in every color. Unlike every other cosplay brand on the planet, their lace front pieces come in dark brown lace for darker skinned cosplayers and not just beige! (The skin top pieces are only in beige so far but hopefully they will work on this.) Also for some reason they sell ridiculously inexpensive corset coutil so for all the craftsmanship people, new source acquired! Even if you’re outside of Europe, Coscraft is so nice that it’s hard to believe their prices. When the pound is up vs your currency, they’re shockingly affordable. When the pound is down vs your currency, the quality per money feels straight up illegal. This is my current go to cosplay wig site for a reason. Fit is larger medium; it won’t be too big or too small on most people. Color swatch ring is available.

Cyperous

Japanese cosplay wig source that theoretically ships EMS outside Japan but I haven’t been able to get that to work for years so shopping service it is. Pour one out for Cyperous; they’re clearly in decline but as one of the original heat resist brands, they’re still here and still worth ordering from while you can. Nobody has as beautiful and delicate blondes as Cyperous; their Milky and White Milky are the best blondes I’ve ever used. They have a nice selection of lace wigs and the much rarer lace bang wigs as well as regular wigs, and wefts of course. No other brand I’ve seen has synthetic wigs that photograph as much like real hair as Cyperous. They can tangle a lot as a result but it’s worth the upkeep. I have no idea how long they’ll keep limping along, but look them up before it’s too late. Price is high but reasonable for what it is. Fit is a true medium. Swatches used to be available and no longer seem to be, but the photos are pretty accurate to my ancient swatch ring and newer wigs.

Five Wits Wigs

Five Wits is the most criminally underrated of the American wig companies because most of their stock photos suck. They really, really, really suck. The photos are somehow incredibly color accurate but represent the wigs as pulled directly from bag and plopped onto someone’s head or a mannequin without even combing them in a flattering way. I wrote them off until I got to see their booth at a con and realized quickly that these wigs are wonderfully made with beautiful fiber that typically photographs like a dream (how do they get such bad stock photos?!) and is so easy to style! Five Wits mostly stocks character wigs, but many of them are versatile enough to use for tons of other things and they offer wefts for some of their colors. The owners are friendly, the service is great, the actual wigs are beautiful, the price for what you get is wonderful, but those dang stock photos keep people from noticing why Five Wits is one of my favorite suppliers! Price is great for what you’re getting, especially for an American brand. The fit is larger end of medium (very few people find it too big or too small). They don’t carry swatch books but every single stock photo, despite being terrible, is an incredibly accurate depiction of the color so feel free to judge colors accordingly.

Kasou

I almost hesitate to put Kasou on here considering that one of the problems with them is that their shipping when it’s from their Chinese warehouse is occasionally “good luck getting your wig”, and I disqualified another past favorite of mine for this, but Kasou squeaked onto this list for two reasons: 1) their fiber and wigs really are spectacular and 2) they have the ONLY Jolyne Kujo pre made wig that I don’t hate. Order from them with confidence that whatever you get will be nice, but keep in mind that there are enough people who’ve had issues with wigs from their Chinese warehouse that you want to give yourself months of lead time if you go that route. They have a decent if slightly expensive price range, medium cap fit, and they do offer swatches. I NO LONGER RECOMMEND KASOU. I still stand by their products being nice, but there have been too many extremely expensive packages lost in the mail with them refusing to refund/replace among cosplayers I know for me to put them as a recommendation. If you order from here, do it with caution.

L-Email / wig-supplier

Not everyone needs premium wigs for heavy styling all the time, and that’s where L-Email comes in. This Chinese-based seller that ships internationally will sell you decent character wigs and decent base wigs for an incredibly affordable price. Nothing from here is going to be spectacular, but if your budget is low and you’re willing to put in a bunch of effort to make up for that, what you need is just a plain wig without tons of styling, or you want a character wig that’s a bit easier to upgrade with extra styling work than other brands because the hardest parts are typically done for you, L-Email is a great option for you. They’re just all around decent, and sometimes that’s what you need. Fit is medium, prices are pretty affordable especially if you go in with friends for shipping, and there aren’t swatches but the photos are typically pretty color accurate.

Sepia

One of the absolute oldest wig companies based in America; every cosplayer active before 2007 has bought at least one Sepia wig. They’re still here though, and now they have some heat resist lace fronts! Their range of fantasy colors is pretty atrocious but if you want some beautiful natural colors, you could do worse than shop here, especially considering there’s at least one more expensive brand (that I’m not putting in this list) that sources lace fronts from Sepia and resells! Fit is medium, price is medium, I haven’t bothered to see if they have swatches because I’m an ancient cosplayer and have the typical Sepia color codes memorized.

Swallowtail

If you’ve heard of this Japanese (shopping service required) wig brand before, it’s probably because the canon wigs in My Dress-Up Darling all come from Swallowtail. There’s more reasons than flexing about how you have the canon Shizuku-tan wig to consider Swallowtail, though! They have a massive color range with a lot of colors I’ve seen nowhere else in the world, and while the fiber isn’t the world’s most durable and is a bit shiny for my tastes in some colors, they’re affordable enough to be a competitive option even if you have to use a shopping service from outside Japan. They offer a full range of wefts and lace pieces and clip ons and a wide variety of base styles. The fit seems to be pretty true medium, and they definitely offer swatches (in the most chaotic ring setup I’ve ever seen. You’ll want to resort that one fast.)

Sylvia_Wig

You can get a lot of decent lace fronts perfect for minimal styling on AliExpress, but Sylvia is my hands down favorite. If you need a natural looking lace front and you don’t want to spend tons of money, this seller is where you should be looking first. There aren’t any swatches or wefts, true, but the wigs have so much more lace than any of the American or Japanese cosplay wig brands, the caps run much larger than most taobao/aliexpress brands (comparable to Kasou or Five Wits), and there’s still plenty of hair to do more basic styles. The fiber is a bit thin and shiny, but it still photographs like a dream, and dollar for dollar you won’t find a better balance between quality lace front and budget friendliness than here. The hairlines are so natural that I have a few from here that haven’t required a single hair plucked to just… melt into my skin. There’s a reason this is my go to first source if I want a lace front and it’s not going to be heavily anime styled (like JoJo or Dragon Ball or whatever). Color stock photos are incredibly accurate; you can trust that what you see is what you’ll get!

since people have sent me asks about this: I do not recommend Epic Cosplay at all anymore. Their construction quality has drastically decreased in recent years to the point I keep getting people asking me to help fix Epic wigs that are literally falling apart, which is enough reason to not want to order from them, but they’ve also had a decade plus pattern of labor rights abuse and employee mistreatment including racism, transphobia, homophobia, ableism, and pregnancy discrimination.

[lalunameli]

Tiger & Bunny Week 2024 (NC 1982): Short Story

This has got to be one of the silliest things I've ever written, but ngl, had a blast doing it. Short story about the Karuizawa Cabbage Theory. Geography is woefully in accurate since Sternbild is supposed to be a version of New York City, and well Karuizawa is a resort town in Nagano, Japan. Still the fans think he drifted on the river all the way to Karuizawa, so it stays.

Author: Lalunameli

Title: Yuri on Cabbages

Rating: PG (language)

Characters: Yuri Petrov (ooc, amnesia), and Kotetsu T. Kaburagi

A/N: Unbetaed, barely proofread, will fix mistakes as I come across them.

Yuri Petrov...

Kotetsu sat at his desk staring at the screen looking at a blurry photo submitted to him from his client, of a man with similar hair (though unkempt) selling cabbages. The former Hero Supervisor had been missing for almost a year ...which coincided with the permanent loss of his powers and the last time he and Barnaby had seen Lunatic. While it was hard to make out Lunatic's face in the glare, that same untamed curly hair resembled that of the cabbage seller's, who had not bothered to tie it back. A sharp contrast from the Director, who was so meticulous about keeping a neat and tidy appearance.

Kotetsu's current line of work as a Private Investigator for Anything Goes Investigations opened him up to contact from people from various walks of life, which is how found himself taking on the case of the missing Director. He had been approached by a woman by the name of Elena, who had said she was previously in employment as his mother's caregiver, until her untimely death. Apparently her employer had gone missing while she was recuperating in the hospital for injuries sustained during a robbery attempt in which Yuri's mother Origa, had been fatally wounded. Elena had survived; however, upon her release from the hospital, she learned that Yuri Petrov had been missing since the attacks on city by Gregory Sunshine and the controlled NEXTs. Fearing the worst, she sought out the services of Kotetsu to launch a search for the missing Judge.

This was how Kotetsu found himself in a small resort town called Karuizawa (of all places!) interviewing a strange cabbage seller, who looked unmistakably like his former boss, yet whose mannerisms were anything but.

"I honestly don't remember much prior to ending up here" said the Cabbage Seller amicably smiling at Kotetsu.

Smiling, thought Kotetsu Is he actually smiling at me? And what's with the casual speech?

The Director always spoke so formally around them and was known to be stoic. The Cabbage Seller on the other hand was all smiles, with a carefree demeanor.

"What do you mean you don't remember?" asked Kotetsu bluntly

The Cabbage seller tucked an unruly lock of hair behind his ear.

"Well the people here say I was found drifting in a nearby river badly hurt. They didn't think I'd actually make it! But I guess they brought me to a hospital or something... I'm not really clear on any of it. To be honest I don't really remember a lot of things, so they kinda look out for me." He smiled sheepishly at Kotetsu

"Yikes, sounds like you had a rough time" he responded still weirded out by Cabbage Yuri's mannerisms. "So are you tellin' me you don't remember who you are at all?"

"Not at all!" replied Cabbage Yuri enthusiastically "They've taken to calling me 'Kawabe' (A/N: riverside/riverbank) around here because of where they found me. Suppose it could be worse and they could have called me Cabbage Guy or something..."

He paused for a moment and furtively looked around. Seeing no one was around he looked at Kotetsu conspiratorially.

"Hey Mister, you wanna see something cool? But you can't tell anyone. Promise?"

Kotetsu had a sinking feeling of what this "something cool" was.

Shit-shit-shit... he thought to himself.

"Sure, go for it..." he hoped his nervousness wasn't showing.

"Look what I can do!!"

The tell tale signs of blue light from NEXT power activation appeared, as a bright blue flame errupted from Cabbage Yuri errr Kawabe's hand.

"I dunno if this was because of my accident but it sure looks cool!"

I KNEW IT. Thought Kotetsu. I knew this asshole was Lunatic! And now he doesn't even remember...

"Ummm hey, isn't that kinda dangerous? Shouldn't you be careful where you're waving those things around?"

Cabbage Yuri Kawabe's eyes widened as he quickly extinguished the flame.

"Oops, you're right! My bad!"

'Oops' and 'My Bad'??? Where the hell did he learn to speak like that!! I gotta try to deal with this before it becomes a problem.

"Listen I'm gonna level with you. I'm here because I run a Private Investigations office and..."

"...And you're on a case?!??" asked Cabbage Yuri excitedly

"Yeah something like that. Anyway while I'm here I kinda need someone who knows the area. Whaddya say, you interested?"

"Am I ever!!! That sounds like fun!"

Fun! thought Kotetsu exasperatedly, Why do I feel I'm going to regret this...

The two men shook hands as Kotetsu tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do next to keep up this sham and why the hell this was his best idea to keep Lunatic close.

ETA: Look at this lovely artwork from @lidoxia (aka @kalineas ) of Cabbage Yuri! I'm so honoured and happy to see him genuinely smiling!!

From original post:

Unlikely I'll continue this. I am long retired from fanfic writing, but thought it might be fun to dust off the cobwebs and write something silly.

[bicycle4two]

short fic starring  jason and his little mouse from built to love, but broken now

find more ficlets of this couple here

Bubble Tea

The fact is, Jason isn’t a fan of trendy places. He dislikes the gimmick, the music selection, and the crowd that it draws in. He also doesn’t want to risk being caught in the background of photos that are sure going to pop up on social media. He doesn’t want the risk of people finding out where he is, who he’s with, figure out the pattern of his everyday life.

So, the new bubble tea shop—The GCBT or the Gotham City Bubble Tea shop—is the worse place for him to be in. Yet here he is, surrounded by Gotham University students, children, and pastels all because she saw one of the drinks on her Instagram page.

Because the fact is, Jason’s weak to her, can’t find it in himself to tell her no when she’s excited to try something new, something out of her comfort zone. That, and it really is his own fault. He knew he should have taken a different route back to their apartment, but he’d made a wrong turn just because he thought he saw a dog with a broken leg limping down the street.

Turns out the dog was fine, liked to play jokes on people, garner their sympathy only to trot away once he got what he wanted, and now here Jason is lining up to get…bubble tea.

He can’t imagine what Alfred would think of all this. The old butler turned his nose up at putting ice in his tea.

“Is this drink really that good?” Jason asks, shoulders hunches as a group of sorority sisters gathered to take a photo, colorful drinks held up to their faces.

“I mean, this place is packed, it must be.” She takes his hand in hers, pulling him further into the shop. Jason holds onto her tightly, knowing from experience how easy it is to lose her in a crowd. “You have to admit, it sounds pretty efficient. Chewing and drinking at the same time.”

“It sounds like a choking hazard,” Jason says when he sees the drink up close. “Do you remember that article I sent you about mochi?”

“If you find one about tapioca pearl related deaths, I promise I won’t make you come back.”

She pats his arm and smiles at him encouragingly. It’s the kind of smile that says, that reminds him that they wanted to experience being college students, being young and carefree, and this, this was part of the experience. It brings some comfort, her touch, her excitement over this drink, but the pop music blaring on the speakers is for sure going to play in his head while he’s on patrol later tonight, so, that’s great.

He heaves a sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she squeezes past a couple who were in the middle of taking a selfie and Jason ducks his head in time to avoid being part of the photo. “Here’s the line. Whoa. Look at all her orders.”

A woman walks away from the receiving counter, both hands holding plastic bags filled with colorful drinks. Jason doesn’t think he’s ever had anything purple before and he’s sort of tempted to try it just so he could say that he did.

“Do you know what you’re getting?”

And, it seems like the wrong questions to ask, because she looks at him in surprise, mouth slightly open. It’s the same look she gets when she finds out that two of the items in her online shopping cart are on sale, but she can only afford to buy one of them.

“I mean, we have to get the best seller, right? But it’s just black tea, isn’t it? Is that playing it too safe? Should we get the seasonal drinks? Or the one with coffee. The coffee might be good. But it might be too early to have the caffeine…oh! There are juices, too! But would that be good with the pearls? I really want to try the pearls…but they have other toppings, too! Oh, wait, no, they’re called sinkers. Oh. I get it. Ha. So, there’s pudding and lychee and…grass jelly? What’s that? Jason, oh my god, there’s so many choices no wonder that lady ordered like twelve drinks! I—”

“Mouse,” Jason places his hand on top of her head, easily shutting her up like an alarm clock. “Breathe, would you?”

“Jason,” she gasps and the overwhelmed look in her eyes makes Jason smile. She really has no business looking that cute. “I should have done my research before we got here. Look, let’s just come back—”

“Welcome to the GCBT! What can I get for ya?”

“Noooo,” she groans out quietly, tucking her head into Jason’s chest, hiding. “I’m not ready…”

“Uhm,” the cashier begins, looking just about as uncomfortable as Jason feels. He loves his little mouse, he really does, but they’re in public.

“We’ll have two of your best seller, please,” Jason cuts in, taking out his wallet. “To go.”

…

Jason watches her stab her drink with the straw and mix the pearls around. He has his own drink in his hand, cooling his skin.

“Good call getting the milk tea,” she says, holding her drink closer like someone’s going to take it from her. “If this isn’t good, then nothing on their menu is, right? It’s what their brand should be known for.”

“Just drink it, mouse.”

“Yeah, of course, I, just, do I drink then chew or chew then drink?”

“You’re going to have to drink or else you’ll have nothing to chew.”

“Right, of course, well, here goes nothing.”

Jason watches the pearls shoot up the straw in rapid succession before she chokes on them. He already has a bottle of water ready for her, but she waves him off, hunched over, coughing. Jason should be concerned, really, feels the burn even on his end, but he sort of saw this coming. He’s just glad that she didn’t choke on any of the pearls or else he’d be completely useless to help her.

Death by secondhand tapioca choking did not seem like the way to go.

“So, chew first or…?”

“I, I hate you,” she wheezes out.

“I take it we’re not going back?”

She straightens, pushing her hair away from her face. There’re some tears in her eyes but the grin on her face tells Jason that she’s fine and that he’s not going to like her answer to his question.

“Jokes on you. I like it.” She mixes the pearls around with her straw once more before taking a sip, an actual sip because that’s what she should have done in the first place, approach it with caution.

“You literally choked.”

“You’re exaggerating,” she says, chewing on the pearls she managed to keep from going down her throat. “Try it.”

He tries to give his untouched drink to her. “I like living, thanks.”

“Oh,” she holds up her hand. “But unless you’ve tried bubble tea, you haven’t quite lived, Jason.”

“Mouse. It’s been two minutes. Don’t go preaching to me about the wonders of bubble tea.”

“It was life changing. I’m converted. I saw God.”

“Because you nearly died.”

“Just try it, Jason.”

“No thanks.”

“It’s good.”

“Alfred would never forgive me. It’s not tea.”

“Yeah, it’s bubble tea. It’s better.”

“Blasphemy!”

“Jason. Please?”

And the fact is, Jason doesn’t like trends, doesn’t particularly care if he’s on trend or not, but he’s always been weak to her, weak to her eyes, weak to her requests, so even if it kills him, at least he can say he died trying to make her happy.

…

“So? What do you think?”

“It’s…okay.”

“Shut up. You like it.”

“Fine, I do. But I’m never stepping foot in that shop again.”

“It’s alright. We can order it online.”

“Thank you.”

...

a/n: do you call it bubble tea or milk tea? pearls or boba?because where i live we call it milk tea and pearls, i don't know why i suddenly starting typing up bubble tea but here we are...

wanna see some art for this fic? check it out here

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Hello! I saw you accept husbandry questions so I thought I might ask about this here.

Almost two weeks ago I bought a around 8 months old male Dodoma Kenyan Sand Boa. I had my corn snake for a while and after reading and watching videos about sand boas and their care I thought it will be a great choice for my 2nd snake. He has been a good eater and a chill little fella when handled but after few days I noticed he has kind of saggy/wrinkly skin. It reminded me of ball pythons who used to be obese but lost weight and have loose skin. Sometimes I can see what I thought might be his spine poking out but it's more of on top of his both sides rather than where spine should be giving him kind of a square shape? Not sure how to describe it. With all that I assumed it's a diet issue and hoped it will get better after few meals. I fed him newborn f/t mice every 5 days (3 meals since I got him, next feeding tomorrow. Ate with no problems so far but didn't really constrict his meal. Seller claimed he eats like a champ and was right).

However I started reading about it more and found out loose skin can be a sign of dehydration and this possibility really worries me. I tried to show him his water bowl but he didn't seem interested and I have no idea if he drinks from it at night (I check on him during the night and only once saw him on the surface). I know sunken eyes are another symptom of dehydration but it's hard to tell because this species has funky eyes and it's the only sand boa I have ever seen in person. Unfortunately I weren't able to take a good photo of these skin folds because they show up when he moves and disappear before I could take a photo or even look at them properly (but if they are necessary to tell what is happening I can try). I only noticed this after already visiting the vet for a check up on the same day I bought him (I saw in one of your posts it's a good idea to take a new snake to the vet and my dad happened to have vet appointment for his gecko on that day. Vet said he looks fine other than some weird dark spots on his belly that they said might be because of the bedding sellers used for him).

Is it possibly dehydration or just my earlier theory of previous weight problems? If it's weight problems is my current feeding schedule fine and if it's dehydration is bath a good idea for this species? Today he started to get lighter which I assume means shed is coming so maybe bath wouldn't be a bad idea but I also saw it's not really recommend for this species. I wouldn't be so unsure in this situation if it wasn't a dry species, it didn't have such unusual anathomy and it weren't a baby. I saw a forum post that said boas just tend to have skin like this as babies but as I said they have strange anathomy so I don't know if this applies to them. I will keep researching but I hoped you might have some suggestions. I want to know if there's anything I need or can do for him.

I would bet every cent to my name that your little guy is just in shed. Sand boas can look pretty wrinkly when they're in a shed cycle, and the recent lightness you've noticed is probably just him getting to the clear stage of the shed. My money is on him shedding in the next few days.

It's very hard to dehydrate a sand boa; if you have water in their enclosure at all and they're eating, it's super rare. I also doubt it's weight-related - snakes at his age don't pack on weight like an older snake could. Young snakes will grow faster if they eat too much, and eating too much while young can cause health problems, but it's super hard to make a baby snake overweight.

I recommend adding a humidity box to his enclosure! They're very easy to make - make a hole in the lid of a food storage container big enough for him to curl up in and fill it with damp moss. That'll help shedding go smoothly (and make sure he never gets dehydrated, too).

If the wrinkles don't clear up within the next week, I'd visit a vet, but I really do think he's just shedding.

[meat-wentz]

Hi there I was wondering if you knew of any way to identify authentic vintage FOB merch from fakes/reprints, I only ask because it seems like you have a collection of vintage FOB shirts, sorry if this question is directed to the wrong blog ❤️❤️

yes i do have some pointers!!!

investigate sellers. if a deal looks too good to be true it probably is, make sure the seller looks legit and has legit reviews if any reviews. if a collector is getting rid of their collection, there’s a really good chance all of their stuff is legit and they will note any boots or reprints, so i always check a seller’s page to see if they have a series of similar listings (could be say a bunch of fob and clandestine stuff, or even just an experienced merch reseller who has tons of band listings) and if they are i know i’m probably in the clear. a lot of times the opposite is also true! someone might just have a holy grail piece they’ve kept in their mom’s garage for 20 years and decide to finally part ways with it, most often this will be the only listing of that band + other listings of high school clothes or other clothes they’re selling, etc. i’ve found more of the latter than the former, for really good prices! you can also ask questions about the piece, like if there’s a back print, if i can get a pic of the tag, if i can see details (zippers, closeups on design, ink wear).

there are lots of indexes of tags and their approximate date information available out there, gildan for example can be less identifiable because a lot of merch and bootleggers still use gildan as their go to, but gildan’s had a long history of different tags, and if you’re able to find a good resource on what, say a tag from 2004 looks like, you’d be able to see if it matched the tag you’re looking at or if that shirt was printed last week. there are some more easily identifiable tags from the time period like bay island tags are always typically a dead giveaway you’re dealing with authentic merch. tags CAN be faked but it’s not typical for items like merch. another good sign for printed tags is if there’s wear on the tag itself former, real soft, sometimes blank or fading, etc, you just wanna see this thing has been used and abused. lots of people cut out their tags but if you can see any wear on cut tags (lots of soft, loose, threading, obvious it’s been through years of washing), that’s a sign you take if there’s no tag.

item wear. much like the last point, i usually look at items that have been very loved. darker colors will fade, so if im dealing with black shirts i often look for a fade as well. ink will crack over the years, so i always keep an eye out for any cracking or wear and i always like to see if the ink looks a little TOO intact and flexible. ink is not ALWAYS the most reliable way to clock a fake, but it’s a tool you can use.

have a good sense of what merch from the era looked like, if you can follow merch archives or go in the waybackmachine and look at the merch store or follow collector accounts, there’s a good chance you will probably be able to find the design you’re looking at. fob has very distinct logos for each time period so if i see an infinity on high logo on a futct keyhole im like alright that’s not real. they have stylistic moments that adhere to their albums really well. tttyg era merch has a lot of bitey commentary and usually darker colors, more big and bold designs. futct has a whole lot of gold and red and deer and on the other side of the spectrum bright colors and a kind of 70’s-ish almost high school sports-leaning font and theme.

the plus side is i haven’t run into a whole lot of fob fakes! a dead giveaway is if the photo looks funky like it was snagged from off the internet or you’ve seen a pic of that shirt floating around, (you can always reverse image search and see if that photo was snagged from somewhere else!), i like when i can tell a photo was actually taken in someone’s house or space, walls, hangers, carpets, on someone’s bed, it’s just a good way to see someone is a real person. another dead giveaway is if you see multiple sizes and a low price of $24.99 for a shirt you know is super rare, that’s a fake and that is some weird internet swindler who most likely won’t even give you a decent print of what they’re advertising they have. i also appreciate sellers who list measurements, talk about the fit, just give more information than a “BLACK SHIRT 100% COTTON.” fob do have some weirdos on eBay who’ve been selling these bogus reprints, but for the most part i haven’t seen them anywhere else.

so many bootleggers are cool and they will not try to trick you into thinking you’re getting an original print. bootleggers will give you the information about what kind of shirts they will be printing on, what kind of ink they will be using, how long their print runs will be, etc, they will make it explicitly clear that this is a bootleg design, AND they will most likely give you one that’s killer in quality. i own a BUNCH of boots of certain designs im sure will never see the light of day again, at the end of the day i will prioritize my desire for a certain design over authenticity (and also support legit, cool bootleggers who are making sure these designs don’t get lost to time). there are certain pieces i won’t budge on my requirement that they be authentic. at the end of the day it’s your collection and you get to make the rules!

[master-jarrus]

So about the bikes separate from the poll just so that post doesn't become all jumbled with photos and I can make sure I am completely up front because I want to be genuine

So bikes are cheaper and cars keep being extremely problematic for my husband and I

We don't have kids and it's just the two of us so two motorcycles are actually a really convenient  and viable option for us

(They are also more eco friendly if you take care of them right but that's for another day)

So no matter what way the vote goes I am getting a bike

However, bikes are still more than a grand and while we can afford it, we can't afford it.

It's one of those weird spots of like yes we can. But everything else will be tight

That's where the vote idea came in from

I am unable to find jobs that are actually hiring

AND my career field of costuming, sewing, etc is dying. No one has these skills anymore unless they are really old or weird gremlins like me. So sewing shops that would hire me are impossible to find

So I thought hey I know how to cosplay and I'm professionally trained (it was actually a certificate I was pursuing they just refused to offer the last 2 classes) in it

Maybe other people would like to see me actually cosplay and watch and learn how to make good quality costumes and props from scratch/as scratch as possible

This happened to coincide with us looking at bikes and an tiny event on tiktok where I got yelled at by cosplayers for saying I wasn't a professional so I decided to ask if people would be interested in a cosplay that combines everything together

The vote isn't over yet but so far (I voted just to see the votes but it doesn't skew the results I promise) everyone seems in favor so unless a bunch of people suddenly vote no I am going to start setting stuff up

In the meantime here are the update bikes we are looking at

2008 Suzuki, owner already responded. They are active duty military and is on a training thing so when they come back we be looking at the bike

The silhouette is already pretty close to Lloyd's main thing I would need to do is paint. And then I would probably change the tires to handle touring (long distances). I may also make the mirrors bigger. This will make my ability to see better and also aids in the cartoonish look

Older bike that might make it harder to find parts if it ever needs a repair

Clean title

*my husband is also active duty and this may give us good negotiating leverage

2018 Suzuki, owner has not responded and some of the pictures appear to be stock photos which makes me a little wary because that's unusual for a non dealership seller

Same cosmetics as the above bike

Newer bike if it needs to repaired we can probably find the parts. But it may require more premium gas

Clean title

2005 Kawasaki Ninja, only recently found it. I will be showing it to my husband when he gets back from work. I haven't contacted the owner yet because my husband is not in the loop yet

Would just need paint, bigger mirrors and the touring tires

Older bike might make repairs difficult

No titled mentioned

Those are the 3 bikes, because the title isn't mentioned on the ninja it will likely get removed.

Unfortunately theft is common in my area and my husband and I have even had a vehicle stolen from us so anything that doesn't have a title is sketchy

Anyways I hope this was informative and not just me rambling and I will be working on that youtube video today if my internet likes me enough

[patchypines]

Here's a little freehand custom mothman I made for myself, say hello to Mangle! He's made with acrylic yarn and scrap fur! This little fella has such a tale that is very fitting of his name, I originally got him as a gift for myself from an Etsy seller since I made myself my whole mothman collection of plushies and wanted to get one made from someone else. It was the first time I ever went to buy a plush from anyone and probably will be my last. This guy took months when it was supposed to be you get what's in the photo as it said on the selling. I politely asked after about 4 months how things are going and if all is well, they said they'd send it soon. More months go by ( around 3 or so ) and they never gave me it, I asked for a refund and they refused still and said they'd send it. ( it was well over 50$ ) I tried to get the refund still and then they instead hastily threw together this tiny mothman that looked nothing like the photo, wasn't even near the size of the moth in the photo, it was mangled and fell apart and smelt horrible. I had to wash them and they fell apart in my hands even while I was holding them delicately ( wearing gloves ) so I used the yarn, tried to fix what I could, and pulled out my own scrap fur from my box to make a whole new moth- it was so heartbreaking working on Mangle but he went from this mangled up mess to this beautiful lad you see above. It's why I just make my own mothmen still, I would love to someday find a responsible person to get a cute little handmade mothman from.

Here's how Mangle looked when I got them it absolutely devastated me. These photos are from when I just took them out of the box I only took them out gently and they were just falling apart barely held together by anything and poorly thrown together. Had to show my friends the absolutely horrible shape Mangle was in and was venting.

Here's when I started to take him apart to fix him up and try to salvage what I could- sewing on the eyes better, patching the weird holes and restuffing areas with black cotton to try to fix anything. The wings weren't even circular, they made this strange shape and then chained around it in hopes it would be the shape which caused this strange buckling-in of the wing instead of them laying flat.

So I disassembled that chain and looked at the funky shape left behind- deciding to work with it since it looked like a funky jagged shape and turn them into this much better moth-wing shape that lays flat.

Ta-da! Not perfect but still looks much better to me. After that, I made little hands for Mangle, attached brand new wings to them, and sewn on the fur after I made them look like this:

They looked like such a cute and silly little alien until I attached the scrap fur pieces to them haha.

Anyway that's the story of my mothman plushie Mangle, I love this fella so much they make me so happy. He's had one heck of a trip but I think I gave him a glow-up.

[who-is-shades]

raz dnd 24

last time was smiercs funeral sad. and a bad beach day lol.

teya fucks off by herself. senna follows behind her at a distance. sunnie also follows teya. teya locks herself in her room. senna goes around and cleans up and does little stuff. sunnie collapses at the dining table with wheatley. parsley helps senna clean. zen and android are just hanging outside. reminder parsley is disguised as an elf woman.

the next day is sunny. parsley goes to get breakfast ingredients. teya snuck out the window i guess. the bots just shrug cause she wants to be alone. parsley goes in the store and realizes he has no idea what hes getting lol. the clerk asks if they need help and he lies and says 'nope'. he notices they were at smiercs funeral. so awkward xD. he admits he was here to support teya aww. the clerk hopes they can help her, then he talks shit about parsley xD and talking shit about the feywilds. parsley just walks away. hes buying like a fuckton of butter oh no. honey milk and juice. he also got bacon eggs and bread. jam cookies and sausages.

teya is sitting by smiercs grave with her books. parsley sees teya in the distance. he keeps walking cause he feels awkward. time to make breakfast! senna sticks her head outside and asks zen for help cause uh she cant cook lol. parsley helps and also eats some butter lol. zen says thats not healthy but senna says fey love butter so its fine. 'how tf do you know that?' 'oh i have a friend named ribbon, shes a pixie.' then she pours sunnie some juice. hes just a sad sack and just stares at it. he sighs and takes a sip then goes back to moping.

teya is uh looking for a solution oh no. shes sending a bunch of fuck you's to cirmes oh no. senna puts a plate by sunnie but hes unlikely to eat right now. at least he has the option. she gently knocks on teya's door. parsley says shes at the grave. senna is mentally debating going after her. she puts the plate on the table and heads outside. she buys something from the token hmm.

senna sees teya and cautiously approaches but keeps some space. she notices but doesnt say anything. senna just stands there. parsley is trying to make sunnie eat and wheatley helps. sunnie shoves food in his mouth just to make them stop hes so pissed lol. wheatley is satisfied though.

teya huffs and uses hidden step. senna goes to investigate the graveyard. none of the graves look disturbed. she senses faint necrotic magic but she cant find the source. senna heads into town to try and ask about smierc. she approaches an old woman (oh no) and tries to ask some questions but she starts telling her about her son the potion seller. senna follows her to the potion shop. its john the potion seller!

senna explains that how was smierc was found to be odd. she asks about the flowers. they were red poppies. she asks if smierc had them delivered but they were there when they found him. they saw a man in a plague doctor mask leave. she thanks him and buys some health potions. she also goes to buy some oil flasks from the general store. she puts it in the token and he asks if its elven magic lol. she says its not. she waves bye and heads to the library.

parsley is feeding rouge and wheatley is still trying to feed sunnie. teya is investigating the library. its dark and empty. she closes the blinds and lights a lanturn. shes looking for any indication of cirmes. she fails to notice anything lol. she also cant find anymore useful necromancy books.

senna sees the blinds are closed, but shes not surprised. teya snuffs the candle and hidden steps again. she doenst detect any magic or any presence of cirmes. like he was never here. no letters or anything. there is a black and white photo picture of baby teya aww. senna picks it up and is just looking at it. she dusts off the photo, puts it back, and goes to the back room. it smells like a blown out candle.

senna takes out her rapier and asks whos there. no response. she looks for whoever is hiding. teya tries to sneak around her and succeeds. she goes out the door lol. senna hears that lol. she goes back to examining the room. back to the house.

billy set up some signs to the portal for beachness lol. teya sneaks back in her window. senna arrives. zen says they really need to get going soon. god wants them to get a move on. senna comments she last saw her at the library but spooked her off. sunnie goes invisible lol. zen uses the token to find her and yep shes in her room. he goes and knocks and says they have to go. wheatley also calls out to her.

after a minute she comes out. parsley reminds her to put her armor on. she shrugs her stuff on as zen tells sunnie to take care of himself. teya hugs him. sunnie tells her to be careful. wheatley goes to hug him and tells him to take care of himself too.

back to the portal. billy is there doing sign tricks. we make him go back cause were gonna close the portal. we see a scarecrow at the entrance of town. parsley fucking attacks it. theres another one after the first falls over. its pointing. guess were following it. line of scarecrows. parsley is trying to torch the nearest scarecrow. it slaps him in the face lol. he tackles it dammit. wheatley tries to scoop him up. more scarecrows show up and slap parsley. he bolts after teya carrying parsley lol.

its the fucking cabin. oh no. parsley gets smacked again lol. senna uses spare the dying on teya. when wheatley shows up she also uses spare the dying on parsley. teya goes in. wheatley puts down parsley and tries to stop teya from attacking cirmes. yeah shes mad. we cant beat him. he will kill us. cirmes says he can hear us lol. parsley tells him to stfu.

random corpse on the table. he points out teyas bones she gave him lol. he brought us here about smierc. his spirit isnt at rest i guess. unfinished business with teya. he wants to talk to her, if teya lets cirmes do it. she wants her friend back. he says hes gone and he cant change that, she just has this chance to talk to him. she turns to everyone to see their opinions. everyones ok with it.

I KNEW IT ITS FUCKING SMIERC! I FUCKING KNEW IT YOU FUCKERS. FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

wheatley is startled and falls over. parsley goes wtf. senna says that explains why there was no sense of cirmes in the library. he explains he IS dead. he was this the whole time. he brought her back as cirmes. he did it at first as an experiment. making a lich without taking a life. hes happy she got a body back. he came to care about her. he genuenly loves her and wants her to be happy. thats why he gave sunnie the shop. sunnie didnt know about this. smiercs story ends. everyone has an end. cant avoid death forever. he wants to be as close to it as possible. by becoming a lich. he MUST continue his research. he will find his own way. teya doesnt wanna lose him again. such is loss. she has much experience with loss. its a unique breed of pain. he says she will find a place where she will belong, of support. time heals all wounds. stay strong teya.

teya asks why hes leaving if he knows how painful it is. hes right where he must be. death simply arrives when it wants to. parsley says he is picking it though, cirmes tells him to shut up lol. then he says hes not wrong lol. smierc was too dangerous to keep around. teya and sunnie made him consider giving up. but he just cant. teya says she still needs him. he puts his hands on her shoulders and says she doesnt 'need' him. she can do amazing things and not let his death hold her back. hes merely a ghost that wanted to say goodbye.

wheatley speaks up and asks what they buried. it WAS him, just teleported out. once he puts the mask on, its only cirmes. teya uses mage hand and takes the mask lol and sends it to parsley. he just sighs and asks her not to be difficult. parsley grabs the mask and wheatley looks scared and steps back. he just pulls out another mask lol. he says cirmes will try and kill them if they fight, dont hold back if they do fight. goodbye teya.

senna steps between teya and cirmes. wheatley and parsley wait for teya to make a decision. she cant move. senna gently puts her arms around her and walks her out. cirmes says she can reach her if need be. senna scoops her up and wheatley opens the door. teya weakly waves back at cirmes, but he doesnt wave back the bitch. the door closes.

senna walks away holding teya as she sobs. the cabin is gone. parsley is still holding the mask. zen is just relieved were going. senna sets teya down when she asks. she says she cant go. she says shes not strong enough. shes going home. wheatley is heart broken. zen says we need her, we cannot beat zorbolt with only 3 of us. 'what good is a necromancer against a bunch of constructs?' every fight she ends up on the ground. her family problems are why were behind. teya we literally cant do this without you. parsley says 'no your coming with' senna goes to pick up teya but zens glowing yellow and says stop. wheatley is yelling in rage cause its bullshit. god says he wont take anyone unwilling. teya tells wheatley to keep in touch. wheatley is so mad.

senna puts teya down and says she hopes teya is strong enough to protect sunnie when the enemy comes. 'if i survive...ill come and see you.' senna hands over the space dress and goes through the portal without looking back. teya says she will miss parsley. android says people rarely get the chance to fight for a bigger ideal, shame she threw it away. he wouldve always protected us, inspite of her apparent weakness. he thought she would do the same. then he leaves. parsley says he will miss her too. teya hugs him. she tells him to kick androids ass for her. he goes in the portal. god zen says he hopes teya lives a good life and zen is back to normal. he hugs her and hopes they can still be friends. through the portal, and it closes.

for the record we took a break cause i started ugly sobbing wtf

also uh teya will lose her memories soon. so. that.

wheatley is beating up trees in the woods and screaming. senna silently goes to stand at the town exit without speaking. parsley demands zen send him back he wants to yell at teya. zen doesnt wanna and says they have the sending stone instead. parsley says gods gonna wipe her memory. wheatley hears this and runs over. he says to send him back right now too. teya doesnt know the consequences. zen says no and android also says no. fuckers. wheatley makes a loud mouth noise. android snaps and says she abandoned everyone. yes were aware, but they need to yell at her about it. zen still refuses. teya has a day to change her mind (she wont) wheatley says she left us to die. hes gonna be useless and a liability in there. the ward isnt foolproof. we only have 2 useful party members to put him down if he fails. he thought he finally found his purpose and she threw him away. 'fuck her'

parsley is just staring at the ground. he walks off pissed. heading toward the exit, with the bots following. wheatley tries to hold his hand. parsley takes it. SP speaks up and says "teya, family?" wheatley says teya has left. SP makes sad noises and slumps into itself, keeps rolling. wheatley waves goodbye to beach billy. it immediately becomes cooler from leaving the beach town. just walking down the road.

we stopped cause i have a raging headache. fuck you raz and kay. im gonna get back at you somehow just you fucking wait. fuck you.