#instead i played video games and then colored in my coloring book

[unpretty]

as a kid i thought i would graduate from kid problems like cleaning my room to adult problems like jobs and taxes. but instead i have a job and taxes and still have to clean my room. cleaning my room is a lifetime problem. i will never stop having to put my markers away before bedtime. this is a rude way for aging to work.

[astralnymphh]

stuff you up ౨ৎ

aestras thanksgiving smut special

' so who's getting stuffed, you or the turkey? '

HELP PALESTINE . DO NOT BUY TLOU2

♡. summary; fuck the festivities, who actually cares about all that sappy shit. instead, embark a newly founded festivity– fucking your girlfriend up in the dusty memory of your old bedroom~ ♡. a\n; late af as fuck but just a fun little smut, nothing too serious, a bit rushed but here y'all go ♡. CW; groping under the table, fingering (r), clit stim (r), strapping (r), horndog!ellie, dom!ellie, tipsy!ellie, risky sex (joel almost catches u), cock referred as 'her' + referred as ellies, cocktip teasing, ass grabbing, some ass smacking, some plot, jokey bickering, readers a bit bratty, a slight brat-taming moment if you squint, mouth muffling, squirting, petnames; babe, baby, babygirl, princess, good girl, (lmk if i missed anything)

♡ WC; 5.5k ♡ masterlist ♡ thanks 2 @fleshunger 4 proofreading the intro ♡

Paired minds savor the embellishing glow of lit stick candles settled before them in a ritzy manner– shedding light over plates of arraying colors. Marination that glistens, crispness that scrapes, and mushy mesas' of garlic herb potatoes that delicately slump in the cradle of a spoon. Consume with your eyes first, then your cameras– and conclusively, your rumbling tummy. 

Rather to consume what's meant to be, than to gorb the scruffy haired girl next to you– at least for now, yes? 

It's your first Thanksgiving with Ellie, being that you two only linked heartstrings this year.

You, the possibly innocent angel that you are– right now, serve clement smiles to whomever talks to you, be it Joel or some random relative who’s name only just surfed your ears this night, it doesn't matter. De rigueur, wear it well.

A baser mind– I mimic regret while telling you this– tumbles far from the garden of Eden and slips away into a daunting realm, the underworld. By under, I mean downstairs, below the button, the internals. Ellie straight up, served hot, was just bursting with hormones. The tender meat oozing with buttery slick melt fell short in maintaining the contact of those chartreuse eyes, instead, suffering the envy of them rooted to your thighs beneath the oak. 

Noses immerse themselves in salty goodness, eyes feast before gobs could, rolling molars gnaw turkey off the tines of forks, but her, her cunts' the only organ thinking right now.

Especially while seated adjacent to you, her clit was throbbing past the hard material of her jeans.

"You both settlin' in your new apartment?" Joel's bellowed drawl carries over the other muted chatter, low in the background.

"Mhm," your hum slopes and rises behind lips sealed to a glass rim, then part with a smack, "Ellie’s definitely settled more than me." ending with a giggle.

Her ear pivots from you, dirt–dappled nose at the fore, "Oh? What's that 'spose to mean babe?"

"Can't keep your hands off that shiny new Playstation, hmm?" 

"Tchh– you bought it for me." replied her with a skosh of sass.

"That I did."

"Uh–" Joel bumbles.

Els drones out, "Andd all my video games–"

"Where's my thank you?" you pout in frolick, forwarding your face for her view.

Hmph.

Her miffy eyes bounce around her skull hence to piloting back on yours, her own pout puffing, "Okayy, here," she sighs lowly, nosing her lips down to pucker a peck– smacking together.

A shared hum in approval vibrates between the bond of skin, half–approval, a kiss was meager in your book of play, and you felt particularly playful this eve.

With a finished kiss, leaves your mouth to mouth a sneaky little quip, fruitful in a whisper, "Didn't hear a thank you~"

"Hmm?"

"Els.." 

Faces still bathing in transferring warmth, her breath hitches on your mid–face, a sigh to end all worries, "You'll see, just wait." Her voice cracks a bit, silken on your ears.

Waiting wasn't even on the table. 

Not when a brawny hand suddenly gropes your inner–thigh, squeezing the fat in little wags.

Give thanks to whomever, thank fuck for being at the tables edge, where nobody else could witness this.

"Anywho–" Ellie grogs her throat clear of those debaucheries, returning to her normal seated poise, "yeah, like, we're settled– thanks for helpin' us find that place." her pitch heightens, flowing into a nosy chuckle.

"Course, kiddo." softly spoken off Joel’s sentiments, but minding less attention and returning his mouth to something more, toothsome. Foodsome.

Goddess, her grip is mighty.

Devious fingers– they found their way, quick. Fingers such as hers, waxy and pale, rigid and calloused, stamping up your hip and giving firm pressure to the bone. Knuckles flushed of pigment, they dig around the crest wanton, nudging you slightly.

"Seriously?" you spit through grit teeth, wiggling your hips in reaction.

Ellie harks your mutter, tugging those smug corners into a cocky smile as her nervy nature would plant her in, naughty–toothed smile, "Huuh?" that bastard coos, "what's wrong babe?"

"You dickhead." 

"Me, dickhead?"

"Yes, you, dickhead."

"That's a lot of dicks n' heads, what is it with you and dicks n' heads?" she creeps her face closer, squinting dumbly– which only made her onslaught of 'heads and dicks' more peeving now that you really loured at her.

Grimacing at her dense brows queller than a storm, blushy nostrils taunting in a wiggle, it subtly made sense– impish coquetry. The kind of shit you toss like a game of ball, prior to the main event. An event, to be seen.

"Why you givin' me that look, huh?" she squints lower in return, flaring her nose, "Do I have a dick for a head?" 

"I would not kiss you if that were the case," you claim advantage of her closeness and peck her goofish scowl, forcing a crescent to spry on that mouth, "Dork."

Hooks on your hip palpate harsher on the jut, her thumb swiping where the cushion and your butt cleft. Pressure given, when words pique her interest.

"Babe," Els murmured with fry in her chords, "d'ya want it?"

"It?" you gulp.

"Mhm.." thrummed she, eluding, "c'mon, you know.." said with that chilling husk, whew.

Okay, maybe it's clearer–than–a–midsummers–noon clear, that Ellie was a tad tipsy. Pink worm of hers just couldn't resist the samplage of some bourbon, sweet oakey notes that evoke memories of bourbon skies hence, quite the beautifying thought. Skies where you play a shrouded silhouette to her line of sight, tapping thumb to chin in ponder. Ponder, pondering.. for what were you pondering those sunsets?

Yet now you lacked a ponder on whatever the hell she was hinting to, only for it to ferment suddenly.

"Ellie, what are you on–"

"My fingers," a blurt wets her whistle, cocking her head dear to your poor ear, "do you want.. my fingers– in.." you feel her dual digits dive in the crevice of your thigh and groin, curling snugly.

"Ellie.." you hiss, pinching your brows in honest bewilderment.

Her pinkie roves over the bulge of your crotch and punctures the inseam right above your clit, stinging the little bud– which throbbed at her press.

"Do you?" her breath wanes, speech sedated with the aim of persuading you.

Contemplation was considered– maybe too carefully, maybe not. Problem one, legitimately most if not all of your family was within spitting distance of you, but on the other hand, the gutsy hand, weighed her offer slacker than a greedy businessman. In precis, her puppy eyes of coveted sanction, rears triumph. Dickhead.

A caught gulp squeezes down your gullet, puffing your chest out, "Mhm.." 

"Okay.. mhh–" she giggles with husk, creasing up as her lithe fingers trace and wrest your fly open, skulking her hand beneath the hood, "Just focus on dinner baby, I got this.." wisped soft, kindred to cashmere.

The unyielding stretch of your denim fastens around your hips in the act of her palm ramming inside, yanking you forward. Pursing your lips in elated exhales, you try, try to winch meat to mouth and void the tamping of your clit, try as you might– the pleasure is dire.

Ellie’s prints depress a lewd discovery, the stub of her smaller knuckle thickens itself in leaky panty, secreting from your eager hole. A discovery, worth a hushed gasp, "Ooh? Wet already babe? God damn.."

"Shut.. up.." choked you, only reaping a laugh from her.

"Fuck, I do all this?"

"Duh."

"Hehe– fuck that's hot.."

She withdraws her fingers half–way, to slither them under your panties. And without a foraged bit of foreplay, dilates your labia with her furled digits loading inside of you.

A squishy nub brushes your sweet spot.

Your pipes in turn swell with sharp intake, wall of your throat cooling instantly. Fuck, bona fide fuck. Enormously fucked when her pumps wreak gentle squelches from your dewy core.

"Jesus, mhphh.." a gruff of air susurrus from her, starkening her torso in an 'appeasingly normal' angle so she may, blend in, bemusing your mother with small–talk, "So, d'you always have a gathering this big on Thanksgiving?"

Out of all people, really, Els? 

She indulges with a smile, purely answering, "Oh yeah, every year– whole family, too many relative I suppose." fading erratically into a giggle.

"Heh– ‘least you got a big house, shitt– I mean," In spite of sounding casual, slips into a grit curse when your wet walls clench her in, "–dang, what I wouldn't give to live here, right babe?"

A mere butt of her elbow nearly dips you into the waters of appearing– deviant of natural, those slender digits, twisting a tender knot inside. She pumps at a canter, lesser than brisk, swifter than a slug. Beat, beat, beat to your g–spot, akin to the pitter, pitter, pat of your whizzing heart.

"Y–yeah, soo jealous, even though I did as a kid.." laughing it off awkwardly, a bask of 'Please let that be the only time I talk.' relief uplifts your sunk gut, momentarily.

"You still eating well livin' on your own?" your mother queries, tuning that time–old maternal charm.

"I mean, d–decent, enough–"

Ellie thrusts her fingers faster, fashioning a trickle of ooze to froth out onto your underwear. Pacified by the sensations, you clamp tighter, knocking a winded hitch to your staggering speech. Fucking inconvenient. Olives of her eyes binge a glint so bawdy, yet inlaid in a bad case of puppy–face, bullshit purity on her glossy lips. She knew the consequences, and consumed them like nothing.

"Pshh– decent? Babe, please, I'm like the microwave master!" exclaimed she, feigning a biggety tone atop her rasp.

You scoff, "Ah–" shuffling your thighs in light see–saw motions, "again, decent."

The knot squeezes as she finger–fucks the tranquility of mind from your pussy, staring knives at you when her supple thumb drags your clit in flicks.

"Sure it's not good?"

"Mh–mh.."

"Like, really good?"

No way she was referring to the microwave meals anymore.

Your mother intrudes softly, "Honey I can start bringin' you my homemade food if it's not–"

"It's okay, she's just playin' around–" Ellie replies before a vowel can flutter your lips, proceeding to eye–fuck you with a smug visage, "she loves my cooking." she rasped, eyes slimly showing.

All you can spotlight on is her gropey hands, jerking you like some toy, it felt too fucking good. Too pleasant to snuff, too divine to scold, exhilarating to your veins sore with salaciousness. Then, you route back to a ponder, what more could she stipulate? 

"M' gonna go to the bathroom," you swat her hand out and jostle your fly up, netting a coo of amusement from Ellie– secretly.

"You good babe?" she vocalizes after, keeping her pussy–prune digits free of smear.

"Come with me." purred you, hoisting from the oaken chair.

Ellie's lids arise with tangible hots– an aphrodisia densely potent of kindiling her eyes. No anointing of sanctity will ripen her intentions, nor anchor the even throb of her cunt. For a throb is a hymn, to you. She wants you, and she's going to have you. Moments and minutes hence, falter to compare in energy.

Cue her cheek pleating smile.

"Okay–" a light snort prances off her open lips, whirling her lap aside to skim through the tight wedge and stumbling to you, "which bathroom we doin'–"

"Just follow me," your voice aspires over, cusping your hand and snagging her calloused ones in the curve of it, "gonna' show you somethin'."

"Heh–" she chuckles dryly, tailgating with a gentle pull of your forearm.

You two whip around a door nook, glide through the foyer and advance upon a staircase. Your cotton–clad heels stroke wood planks beat by beat, soft wallops that carom off skyscraping maroon wine walls. Ribbons of lunar light dangle on and off your heads, crafting gauzy shrouds that mix and mingle off the corners with a bobbing ascent. Every wall laid reminiscent of a ritzy manor, a lacquer of lavish. 

The flight of stairs then ingress into a much thinner hall, in a much quainter space, and fitted to each doors awaiting enigma. Duller light spills through, glossing the path you took towards a fawny brown door– your bedroom.

Ellie espies the cleave of an abutting door, aiming a bead on with her index, "Wait– isn't that the–"

"Shh," you gingerly rustle air on locked teeth, shifting your arm towards the gilded rotund knob and twining with metal clicks and clacks, "bathroom was just a cover up."

"Oh~" 

"Hmm hm~" you kittenly croon.

The barrier pendulates sideward from your stride, only to be elbowed soundly back to a wisping shut.  You pinch the little knob's notch and, click, lock the door. An amused flit of breath pours from her agape lips, catching your wordless gist bereft of another second.

Ellie thrums that same old rasp, sweetening you up, "Real smooth babe, takin' us up here.." her feet coast her closer to you, kitty–cornering you to a rearwards stumble.

Plaster bumps, a welting sharp ridge– they trench in your ankle and up as your calves butt the wall, inevitably backed up. Trapped, positively trapped. 

"Well–" a scoff enlightens your latter words, "couldn't just stay there with you two fingers deep, hm?" and your 'hm' asks for her agreement, pitch yawing.

"Was 'gonna make it three, but.." 

"But?"

Her head shrouds yours in a gray penumbra, orangey–tint nose a scant whisker from brushing yours, and sends you into a conundrum with a mere utter, a tepid utter, "got uhh', something better for you." tying off with a willed lip bite.

"Oh really?" you moon with pep, hooking a calf around hers.

She smokily coaxes, "Fuck yeah– look." her knotty digits then cruise around her hips, meeting at her denim zipper and tugging that metal tab down. Fleeting as starlight, she thumbs the belt–band and chucks her jeans just beneath the ruck of her asscheek, chafing fabric to fabric with her lax boxers.

A lone brow quirks, expressing the fact that with the way she juts hers hips forward and palms her crotch weirdly– it reared too obvious, "Ellie, don't tell me–"

A springy mass wiggles against the front inseam, held in her teasy tauty grip– veins popping of course, "Tell youu whaat?" her words muff in hoarse laughter.

"Baby.." you exhale, adjoining a whiny moan. Ellie's such a goofy tease.

That simple mass in her crotch, was a sign– a clear, lucid, taintless and foretelling, that you were getting stuffed like a turkey tonight.

In counter, her exhale fuses with yours in dancing particles, so gentle, finer than purity made flesh, "Babe.." and such gentleness caresses your ears, a pureness forgotten in those divinity forsaken puppy eyes– pout moist.

You can't rend your pupils elsewhere, trapped like mice, you gape with encroaching arousal dowsing out your nerves– and drenching down below. Markedly, where you gaze now– her fingers tug the waistband down, exposing the bulbous green head of her cock in her boxers tight band, barely, literal orb of luster dabbled on the tip.

Now your eyes truly cannot escape.

Cotton tenderizes in lines around the bulge, her hand stroking above the shape. And the way you stare, fucks her mind good, speaking throatily, "God," a gulp bubbles, "can't stop starin' hmm?"

"Hehe– couldn't help but wear it?" you snap back.

"Yes ma'am," said off a grunt, pushing said bulge to your curious hand, pleading for a rub, "you gonna' suck her?" soothing is her tone, a breathless moan.

You coo, "Want me to?" and weasel your palm in circles, watching her pelvis follow.

"Uh'huh babe– mhh, need it.." she rolls the hem of her shirt up to her ribs, flaunting that strapping waist– perfectly toned.

Appetent with sure appetite, you nod, a nod that tows her lids down, down.. down, till the green born of her eyes rely on a thin horizon hawkeyeing you. A sliver of sparkle, eager in you. It only takes you dual bends of the knees, stamping chiffony flesh to cold oak and your fingers tucking in her underwear– to excite Ellie.

"Yeah, m'gonna suck her, suck that cock." you mouth in broken vowels, steeping breath on her firm navel pouch.

"Fuck.." she nimbly grunts and tosses her head back, tightening skin on the jounce of her adams apple, swallowing.

Giving tender pressure on her boxers, you slither them netherward until they sojourn atop her bunching jeans fixed above the knee. You swear, those quads of hers clench at your brushing touch, causing your sights to skip up on that dangling cock. Wow. The fat head pokes your nose–tip, curbing up as she cradles its silicone girth to palm.

"Hold uh'," what you expected to be 'up' erupts as a tiny grunt snuffing, eyeing her other hand concealing her lips with a muffled 'puh' to top, "there we go." that hand draws down to smear her spit along the length, squelching mildly.

"Mhh–" you hum shorn of audible sound, batting keen breath on her strap, "–so big.."

You tell her that, everytime. And everytime, she revels in that negligible fact, shutting her eyes in skin–sheathed darkness– pinpointing on how too–too hot that seems. And the way you say it? Oof.

Ellie tacks five fingerprints on your head's crown and coaxes in flits of force, easing you on, "My god, babygirl– oooh.." she relishes an oval–mouthed moan, watching your lips wrap her cockhead.

And it's warmer than anything you've gobbled so far this eve.

Balming a heat like that, tucked in her boxers so neatly and snug– it tickles your gums. Soft and pliant, your lips are, they crease and roll under as you swallow her in, impressing a pit on your tongue when they meet.

"Hhmmm.." you moan a mouthful on the frothed up silicone, dragging your lips back over to motion a bounce of your head.

"I know~" she coos to your bumble, pucking her hips with an equal piston to her pelvis, "them' lips feel goood– fuuckkk.." as if you can feel them, dork.

You clasp her thickness in hooks of your tongue, sending splotches and globs of spit to pool around your oval–ringed mouth, courtesy of her tip bumping your throat in, "Guh- guh, guh, guhh–" prods. 

Ohh, that birdsong. The quaffing of your vocal bands subject to her humps, producing a rhythmic beat to alight her hormones. Your song worthy of hearing. You wimp the swelling sink that her nails wreak, a flicker between cuspate tapering and a meek love– a calling for more.

Enlighten me a morsel of those twisted, dirty thoughts, auburnhead devil.

Leathery wads of her free digits roam hot on your pulping cheeks, chiseling out as you suck. Her fingers then find themselves arcing a tuck behind your ear, thumb printed to your temple. A dash of encourage, she presses, a truer than blue visage, she contorts ran by pleasure. Squelch, suckle, drag spit, and repeat.

Due to your stretching spread of lips taking her well, likeness of a blockade in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Obviously. So over the wish–wash of saliva, Ellie tunes you in with her filthy comments.

"Suckin' my filthy cock.. fuck–" she pauses with a gruff moan, baking in your brain deep, "gonna' make me cum so goood–" her vowel strains, clenching her pussy lips around nothing except the cool, cruel air, "yes.." 

A reed of cold nips your chin, seconds hence realization settles; you're getting sloppy. A manifestation of Els actually fucking your noggin to slosh, wouldn't spark surprise if liquid poured from your cranium at this point.

Her own arousal rots you further down, too.

With the feeling of her cock climbing near hellward down your throat, smacking on the gummy walls, and the husk her moans endure, crucifies your pussy with an ache of want. Fabric of your jeans suffers a beat, your clit, throbbing. It hurts so good and it stings so right, so tight, you need her now.

A faster bob you give, the more Ellie can't take it either. 

"Babe–" she hawks out, but fails to halt your bopping movements, "babe, fuck–" the digits parked behind the conch of your ear skip and push your jaw up, staking her cock out with a spring. 

"Ghh– schhlp, huh?" a chuck of spit muddled your words, unfurled tongue lapping up every web left by your messy, messy mouth.

Nook of her hand like a cusp to your jaw, she beckons you with a nudge, and rasps, "Up– c'mon, n'turn that ass around." 

Ass. Something about that word reverberated in you, bothered you hotly, made a tepidness leak from your cheeks. The rasp she rung it with, eyeing you with twin fern flames for irises– an approaching engulfment to marry your skin with ashen blessing, more consuming. Ass, Ash, haha.

A flutter in your hips spreads like fire across your legs. It weakens the muscle you bend, standing upright challenged resemblant of a feat, especially when Ellie's grabby gropes found purchase in the crevice of your hips, spindling you on a quick axis. It wanes the composure you hold like a goblet, dwindling to shattered shards across the floor, primarily as those bedeviled claws slot under rough woven denim and remove them false of trouble and trick– ruching to nothing at the root of your ankles.

Where happy hubbub clamors downstairs, pleased pandemonium moans upstairs.

A jut of two knobby hip bones thump into each asscheek, denting the skin into a gully. Warmth, a ligature of it rides through your backside, making you shake. Not like her hands would let you tremble, one being so immovably returned to your hip.

"Fuuck that pussy 'been waitin' for me, huh? Can just tell.." mumbles her with vocal fry, pupils ogling bare of shame at your cinched folds, clasping nothing.

"Your fault."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm.." you hum timidly.

"Gonna call me dickhead again, or–" a fat ball teases the dripping lips of your pussy, spreading them slightly and sloshing the skin around, "Is this enough?"

To give way, was a mistake, buckling your pelvis deeper on her cock which faces a grip ardent to shaft– teasing with rolls of her wrist. The cockhead, or literal dickhead, warps and smooshes against your clit as she toys with it. A whiny, "Huuh– Els.." mangles in your larynx, pitching.

"Yeah, you like that? Know you do." that damned smirk lives in her curving tone, sweet with a dash of tang. Her cock dilates your delicate folds further, exposing the velvet flesh to cold air and an intrusive visit. 

Your fiendish pussy kisses her cocktip and ceases its movement, clamping her in place, whimpering, "Mhh, ahh– ah.." 

"Hey, 'lemme go– was just getting started babe," she laughs crisply, landing a fine plume touch to your ass, "c'mon.. loosen up.."

A flux of slacken tires the muscles that clamp her in, hugging your entrance more softly around her tip.

Ellie winches weight on her knees, crouching her groin into you with a slow swerve, "There we go.." she purrs with tension in her tune, relieving a sigh when her cock pops in silkenly.

You seize up, gasping sharply, hips begging to break brittle in her grasp of iron– but iron does not deform easily. Pressure stays pressured, and digits knurl over the hill of your hip bone to prop it upright. With walls expanded on her cock like your pussy was made for her, it humbles you, belittling you to sludge in her metal caress.

"Fuuckk yeah–" she broadens her sigh of bliss, abrading on the 'K', like a crackle. Pleasure kills neutrality in the smoothest way, gathering grooves in her forehead, "y'feel so warm baby.. mhmm–" 

"That's not even your dick.." you half–way give a giggle, suppressing the moans you choke up.

A tense whistle of air sounds from Ellie's nose, a reaction of vague irritation, "Swear to god.." her tongue smacks after and a sudden thrusting of her fat cock catches your mind astray, winding those choked moans out. 

"Uhn– uh fuck, huhh–" you babble.

"Not my dick huh? Who's fucking you? Tell me, fuck– yeah?" Her words warble where skin smacks, wetness palping in obscene squelches. 

Does she really expect you to answer when her cock continually swells your cunt and abuses your g–spot? Yeah. Ellie will fuck the answer from one hole to the other, if she so feels compelled to.

But of course, you don't answer.

"Baaabeee," she taunts, "baabyyyy," and tortures, "who she getting fucked by right now, tell mee.." and fucks, cooing purer than vernal spring washed in the rain, mushing globs of pre–cum all over your cervix.

"Y-you.."

"That's right."

This feels almost violating to your vagina, to be stuffed like this. Did she size up? Get a new strap? Whatever the case presents itself as, it felt fucking good. Made you woozy, each bop she played like a drum on your sore ass, summoning a white ring of creamy sap to veil around her cock's girth. White droplets failed to envelop her cock, though, each jiggle of your muck bodies lashing beads of it onto the oak boards, your thighs, her pretty auburn bush, etcetera. Attempting to grab the wall, duh– that fails, then you scramble jittery digits across said wall, awkwardly finding a rigid door trim to grasp at long last– speak of the devil, Ellie laughs at that.

"Haha– aww, too big for you princess?" she utters to you like a dumbass, ego brimmed with the pumps her cock skids on your gummy walls, smirking with thinned lips.

Vulnerability loathes humility, "Fuck y–you."

"Sure."

Her perception of sight, harboring verdancy, drops low to your bulging hole that swallows her good– as you should, tender milk that pools inwards as she slides out, and froths a flood of slick when she humps it back to the same hole it spilled from. 

Might she indulge more sampling?

Ellie's hell–sworn index traces your swelling folds mellowly, togging a cap of pearly cum on her finger pad. Scrutinize, then she licks. Her peach lips kiss her finger softly, puckering wrinkles as she sucks the sleek off, "Sssmhpt–" her lips zip, "yeah–ha, that's what 'm taking about–" delighted, she is.

The knot in your womb begins to coil and fill, a rapturous sting impaling inside. Your folds, springing on her friction, sends a ripple to fluctuate in your ass cheek. Enticing. So enticing, Ellie grabs a handful, bloating fat strokes of your buttcheek between the webs of her delirious fingers.

"Ghh– yes.. yes–" she growls, deep in her lungs. The harness in return rubbed her clit in all the right ways, electrocuting her legs with a twitch, "arch that bsck f'me baby, c'mon– arch on my fuckin' cock–" 

Harking her, you heed. Heed with a convex draw of your back, protruding your ass out for her messy usage. That– that was the last straw, her only straw. You being so keen. Something less than a mutter of, "Good girl." was the last audible voice you could pick up, her game swapping to a faster ramming into your sloppy pussy.

"Ellie!" you wince, praying on a star, "So g–good.." you gape and fall forward, smearing slobber on the drywall.

Her cock was too much. 

A tear soaked upon that very wall, gifting it a taste of your salty heaven.

"Mhmm– god, fuck fuck fuck! You're so good, s'good t'me.." a breath shuddered, she limps forward onto you. Her pale hips still punishing with a litany of humps, now scores deeper on your gushy cervix, her drenched chest marking hot on your clothed back.

"Needa' cum– Els, babe.." why you were even asking, might flummox a future specter of yourself– purling on her thickness, feeling the endless tension pull from you in strings of cum, kissing the head of her cock, you were on the train track to cumming already. Dumbified questions really egged Ellie on, luckily.

"Yeah baby, want'chu to– all over her, she needs it, mhm–" she assures you, two foam–spit lips stamping your lobe, "feel that baby?" her elbow mounts like a belt to your hip crest, ducking under and tamping your womb, palm to pudge, and intones, "She's so fucking deep– shit.." 

Spade of her cock punching your walls, over and over, you finally snap. The added hand to your belly, sought it done. Done well, pronto. 

You convulse in tight vices to squeeze her dick, orgasm shaking you to the literal core, "Huunhh– Ellie, Els! Ssuhh– Ell–" a clammy paw wedges your mouth from splitting the walls with your uproar, fingers tender on your lips cushion.

"Shh– shh.. not so loud babe, take it easy–" snuffing you, she talks clemently, little grunts detailing you on how close she was, too, "that's it.. don't hold back baby– uh, fuck."

Her cock fucks you just right, blows you fried so easily, with every heavy lunge– you weep.

A pang twisting inside averts a sightly gaze to the beautiful coastline of darkness, pure oblivion. Fuzzy dollops of faded splotches prance your vision like a sick joke, mocking your high. You can't even croak, not even a peep, just sit back and let cum dribble from your hole, plashing her filthy cock in a sick mess.

Right on a dream–like cue, a snarled groan mauls from the deepest depth of her diaphragm, fresh on your ear, "Ghhodd– fhmm, good fuckin' pussh– mhh!" 

Splash.

Her lids squinted tight, nose flared wide, she came. In waterfalls you couldn't observe, but swore you heard. A geyser to the floor, hyaline ribbons of her precious flavor taint the floor so disgustingly, so vividly, it shines.

Guess the wine loosened both of her lips.

She usually does not cum like that.

Damn.

Muggy exasperation fans your neck in ghostly hands that wrap, a recalescent mist baying for some kind of relief in dramatic swells and shrinks her chest pushes into you. Then, something moreso flobbed, a chuckle.

"Heheh–" her fingers slip from your lax lips, tapping kittenly on your chin.

"That's was, mhh– um–" you huff, dead of air just like her.

"Good?"

"Yup, just– couldn't.. oof.." 

Her lips purse and plant a kiss to your scruff, grinning against the flesh, "Did good for me," moist smacks besmirch further, rasping, "felt so good t–"

A beating of hardy steps peals through the door's underside, sending a wash of shock over both of you abruptly.

"Fuck." Ellie's voice muffles sotto voce, darting grips to your folded hips, thumbs tacking on the streched knoll your ass provided.

You perk your ears in tune of this noise, gut instinct curls and kicks your body to move, bucking back on Els– who mind you, was still sheathed inside you.

That knocked another grunt from her, "Hmmph– don't do that– god, babyy.." she whines, runting back into you.

Hole stuffed back up, you clench your fists into a ball. This idiot.

"Ellie? You in there?" A familiar, dense, Texan drawl aptly known as Joel's, beacons from beyond the door.

That's bad.

"Shit what do I–"

"Get off, for onee–" a tense on your chords, you huff, bucking her muck sweat thighs off your hind and skidding out her cock pronto. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but, no time to waste.

"Fuck! Again–" she hisses.

You crouch your bare bum inches from the floor and swoop up the pooling pile of denim and cotton panties, rearing them up and fiddling with the metal button. Ellie followed suit, the best of her abilities– sex really fogs up her faculties, and pressed her cock plumb to her stomach as to tuck it properly her boxers, letting the band snap in place on waist– gently.

Triple knocks erupt, and then his bellow, "Kiddo?"

"We're good, we'll be down!" she calls back, eyes far from not studying your scurrying silhouette, just has to comment, "–fuck that ass." like she wanted more.

A grumbled 'Hmm' vibrates on the oak, trailed by fleeting footsteps that trudge away, thump, thump– you get it.

"Oh?" you kink your whisper, foxily, "second rounds?" and pivot around to face her.

"Mphht– not what I meant, dickhead." her voice deepens weirdly at the brink her sentence plonked upon, cocking her head with a smirk.

"Whatever." your eyes roll, capering off the room's corners.

"Hmph–" gruffed in amusement, "Cutie." gingerly steps huddle you right against that wall again, two biceps meeting warmth–to–warmth with your soaken shirts waistline.

Scoff, just scoff, "I think this is how second rounds start, liar." 

She goes all bumbly, furrowing those bushy orange brows and frisking her eyes in a roll, copycat, "Don't get me started, pleasee." she begged fakely, cadence dense.

"Too late."

"You're right." her lips, wisp to yours so perfectly timed, interlocking one pink bud under your top lip and butting noses, plushing together in tide. Even plopped a little smack to the clad meat of your ass, how sweet.

A scant hint of dinner lingered on her breath, passed to you like a spill. Makes you want to slink those stairs in one go for a different palate of seconds. But, alas, you two bet smooches on the hope of no further interruptions, scarfing up kisses like hungry dogs.

(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list, some mentions didnt work!)

@whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss

[yuurei20]

Twisted Wonderland Fes 2023 Notes

(this is very stream of consciousness, based on notes taken during the event)

・After the livestream cut out there was a virtual concert: 3D animations of the characters performed Absolutely Beautiful and the Glorious Masquerade song

・Jamil and Kalim’s VAs held hands at the closing of the curtain so cute

・Before the livestream was an amazing, long-form version of Piece of My World. Longest version I have ever heard--it lasted throughout the entire time the VAs were appearing on stage and might have been specially composed for the event.

・The first part, pre-livestream, was a live script reading by all cast, split into two halves: the VAs for Riddle, Cater, Jack, Azul, Floyd, Kalim, Epel, Vil, Silver, Lilia performed a scene of making summer break plans to got to a beach together. The VAs for Ace, Trey, Deuce, Ruggie, Leona, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Ortho, Malleus, Sebek performed a scene of participating in a menu creation contest for the school cafeteria. Basically voiced vignettes, but instead of the characters, it was the VAs themselves, reading live in front of the audience. Really amazing.

・Then the livestream began, including a lot of Book 7 and Stitch event talk. Jamil’s VA Futaba insisted that Jamil has the coolest unique magic and so they held a vote, it was hilarious. They all have great chemistry and seemed to really enjoy it. The “what unique magic is coolest, snake whisper vs unleash beast vs Shock the heart vs silver’s unique magic” argument was hilarious. No one voted for Oasis Maker, Sebek’s VA voted for Silver’s, Jade's voted for Azul's.

・When idia’s VA have his video message all the VAs watched via little monitors on the end of the stage, but Ortho’s Aoi turned around in his chair to watch the big screen.

・When Jack did the in-game exam battle all the VAs got out of their chairs to turn around and sit on the floor to watch, but Ortho’s Aoi stood and did Ortho’s attack gestures along with the battle, it was adorable. Aoi had some great comments on Book 7, too. Lilia’s VA is very good at the battles and instructed Jack’s VA on how to get a good exams score.

・And the new info was all shared via livestream! The new birthday series will be redrawings of all the characters from the platinum suit series (same poses and everything, pre-groovy), new Halloween event is Pinocchio, an SSR platinum suit Grim is coming!

・They had Leona’s VA play the hydra game from Book 6.

・Malleus’ VA talked about Book 7 and how he feels bad for Malleus.

・Ortho’s Aoi had idia’s light ring and said “I brought my brother” when he did his introduction at the beginning. Most (if not all) of the VAs wore light rings for their character, and were dressed in colors reminiscent of their dorm.

・Kalim’s kept showing off his muscles and Jade’s VA thought he was hilarious. At least twice, Jade’s VA was doubled over laughing at whatever it was Kalim’s VA was doing, it was so funny, he could not keep it together.

・Vil’s VA said that there’s an older woman-voice version of the older man-voice recording that he made for book 6 and he didn’t know which one the director was going to go with until the game came out.

・Ortho’s VA shared ideas for gear for Ortho, such animals like a fox. And also shortcake gear that smells like cake.

[moongreenlight]

Insane reader my beloved. Literally my babygirl.

@katz-chow been ruminating on this one just for you <3

CW: Gore and violence

Reader who shows up late to their first meeting with the task force. Rolls up in their dark sedan with blacked-out windows and one too many dents on the front bumper wearing civvies instead of the uniform they were given and instructed to wear.

Reader who is a privately hired detective with a talent for interrogations. Not officially a member of the task force or the military because the tactics they use are far less than legal. More a secret weapon on retainer for when doing things by the book doesn’t do the trick.

Reader who gets on the good sides of the task force boys by being sugary sweet and barely hiding their true colors. Skins and bleaches the skulls of interrogations gone South and gives them to Ghost insisting they’re better than the costume store shit he’s got on now.

Gifts Price expensive cigars tucked between the fingers of a severed hand. Drops them off in large pink boxes with delicate ribbons and giggles when he asks a thousand questions about why and how and what the fuck he was supposed to do with this.

Tosses Gaz new knives on the field when they’ve landed a kill or just wrenched them out of someone’s stomach. They make a game out of chucking the gore-slicked blades at one another’s heads to see if they can dodge in time.

Starts playing dodgeball with Soap where they toss his less-stable bombs and unpinned grenades back and forth. Only stops after they’ve accidentally blown up the camp two missions in a row. (Also heavily rumored they have tramp stamps of each other’s names because they’re both too stubborn to back down from a dare but that’s just for vibes)

Reader who gets flown out on specialty missions where a hostage really refuses to talk and takes matters into their own hands. Sometimes hopping on radio when they’re in transit and requesting the force pulls extra men so they can play a live game of operation. They’ve been watching videos on the dark web and the first two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy from their military issued laptop so it’s like an 80% chance all the hostages live.

Reader who stops being allowed to train rookies because the first and only faux-deployment they led they told the group they ran out of rations three days in to a two week long training and they had to play rock-paper-scissors to create a bracket of people to eat first. The mission gets called early when Price gets word that there was actually a field amputation done. Reader doesn’t even apologize, just laughs their way through a barely reasonable explanation. I didn’t think they’d actually do it.

Reader who begs the boys to let them play kill, kiss, marry, kill in the middle of a boring interrogation and when they get told no or to focus on the task at hand, they throw such a fit that they end up sending a screwdriver through the eye of the person they’re supposed to be interrogating.

Reader who brings their own kit to interrogations. Lugs around pincers, rusted blades, rotary bone saws, and dull axes in a flamingo pink toolbox. Sets it up on a small table in front of the hostage and unboxes it like an influencer showing off PR.

Reader who also stops being able to run conditioning and drills with rookies because they pitted the privates against one another during a sparring session. Saying something about whoever could sheath a blade in the other first got a bonus check before tossing a few knives on the mat and walking away. Gaz had to run over and tell them you weren’t serious when he saw blood.

Reader who insists on being able to puppeteer the decapitated head of an enemy grunt they took down and reciting a few lines of Shakespeare to the boys. Dragging the mission out because they know as well as the boys do that everyone is on their timeline.

Reader who dances around hostages that have been zip tied to chairs and beat within an inch of their life. Singsonging threats and having the boys drag the limp bodies of their chain of command across the floor.

Reader who pouts when their victims pass out during questioning after a few of their fingers have been chopped off with a butcher’s knife. Huffs like they’re being put through a massive inconvenience and fishes smelling salts out of their toolkit to wake the poor sap back up.

[algea]

hi guys here’s some more headcannons for Lars (btw i’m doing these literally right before my exam🥲)

like i said last time, these are my headcannons, they may not be yours…

Lars loves ice cream. Even though he may deny it, he has a massive sweet tooth. You most definitely can bribe him with sweets.

Lars is a cat person. Sorry guys, had to say it. It’s not that he hates dogs, he just thinks it’s easier to take care of cats, plus they’re super goofy. He would probably own a black cat or a calico. Lars would so spoil his cat as much as possible, you think it’s a little unfair.

Lars’ favorite genre of books is dystopian fiction. Something about robots and future make him excited. He really likes the book Brave New World.

Lars takes you on a date every week. That’s how his momma raised him. He may not be from America, but he sure knows how to treat a lady. He really enjoys going to the movies or the beach with you. He thinks you’re so beautiful when the salty air blows your hair softly around you. Lars loves the smell of the sea and thinks that he would definitely propose to you on the beach.

He is super good at video games. Not like the Last of Us or Call of Duty, I mean like Centipede and Donkey Kong. It’s what he grew up playing, so expect him to be insanely good. Also don’t play him in Super Smash Ultimate, he would shit on you fr.

Lars hates when you talk to someone on the phone when he’s with you. He likes being the center of attention when he’s with you. He also thinks it’s super rude because you’re spending time with him. Unless it’s your mom, then he completely understands and gives you some slack.

His favorite comedian is Bo Burnham. More importantly, he likes the music Bo creates. It makes him literally giggle when he listens to it. You think it’s a little weird, but you’re glad he’s actually enjoying something.

Whenever you’ve been at the lab for a few days, Lars always makes you a bath before you come home so you can have some alone time. Probably the nicest thing he’ll do for you, but it definitely shows that he loves you so much.

Lars doesn’t like the heat. He’d rather be in the cold where he can wear multiple layers instead of sweating to death. Poor dude was stuck with that most of his life, so he loved it when he moved to New York.

Mr. Nerd geeks out when someone talks about Ghost Corps in a good way. He’ll yap on and on forever about it if you let him. Sometimes you’ll have to drag him away from the poor soul who struck up a conversation with him.

He has a photo album like the ‘Our Adventure Book’ from Up, which contains photos of you and him together. He looks at it whenever he feels sad or needs motivation.

He has a system of marks for when you looks especially attractive to him. Normally they’re color coded for the color you wear and have a specific shape for what kind of outfit it is.

Surprisingly, Lars’ love language is gift giving. He loves giving you little trinkets that you’ve mentioned you liked. It’s the cutest thing ever. It shows he pays attention to you.

Lars loves it when you wear his glasses. He thinks you look like a nerd and it makes you 10x cuter. If you’re in the lab and you steal them off him, he won’t take them back until you give them to him.

um sorry if these are a little short, i’ll definitely make more in the future

[howlingday]

What if Jaune was a Xiao-Long? Does he either inherit Tai’s puns but are actually good, or Summer’s obsession with weapons, specifically swords.

Well, let's talk about the changes that would come with Jaune being born a Xiao Long. I'm assuming that he's Raven and Tai's son and Yang's twin brother, since him being Ruby's twin would potentially give him silver eyes and take away Ruby's role as the innocent and pure soul that she is, since she'd have to share the big hero spotlight.

As a Xiao-Long Branwen, Jaune's eyes would be red, blue, or purple, which is a choice of colors I love. Like, Yang isn't red like her mothers or blue like her fathers, but a lovely mix of purple to show she is both her mother's and her father's child. So Jaune also being born with these would be nice, though him having either Tai's or Raven's colored eyes would be a nice contrast to Yang. Also, fourth option, just putting it on the table so it's there, Jaune being heterochromatic with red and blue eyes. But to be honest, that feels a little too OC for me. Honestly, I'm leaning to Tai eyes since it would give Raven more reason to not stick around.

Jaune would grow up with Yang and help raise Ruby, but I could see him acting more like a brother than a father with her. He plays video games and reads comic books with her, while Yang is acting more as a mother-figure, filling in the space Summer left. I can also see Jaune having a Luigi dynamic to Yang's Mario, with him being the more timid and cautious twin of the two. Like, I'm imagining the three leaving to look for Summer with Jaune making constant whines like "Yaaang, we should go back!"

Now, with Jaune's weapon, let's address the goliath in the room. Crocea Mors? Not a thing. There's no family heirloom for him to take from the wall to attend Beacon. Instead, since he'd attend Signal and Beacon with his sisters, he'd make his own weapons. What weapons? Ooh... That's... Oof... If you're familiar with my Ru-Ja-Gun-Con series, you know that there are A LOT of weapons Jaune could choose and be inspired by. I even hinted at one being a solid choice for me if I had my way, BUT that was Jaune in canon. This is an entirely different Jaune. However, since this Jaune is still, essentially, Jaune, I would still like to keep the Jaune Arc style, so I'll let him keep the sword and shield and say he was inspired by the fairy tale stories he would read to Ruby, and yes, it is the Rusted Knight. However, I'd also like to borrow from the Joan of Arc inspiration and give Jaune something from her arsenal. I'm thinking a sword and shield/sheath that can be turned into a crossbow! But wait, there's more! Since both Ruby and Yang use theirs for combat AND mobility, I'd like to suggest Jaune has a rappelling line/bolt that he can slide on. Neat, right? Now we just need a name... How about... Juniper Rose, named after his favorite character from his favorite fairy tale.

"But what about his semblance?!" The voice in my head cries, mimicking what I think is what you're asking. Well, since he is heading off to Signal and Beacon with his sisters, it would only make sense to have Jaune unlock his aura and his semblance, but instead of coming up with something wild like Juniper Rose, I'd suggest keeping Aura Amp as his semblance BUT obviously have it unlocked sooner. I'm imagining a scenario during training where Ruby or Yang got really hurt, so he rushes over to help them and uses his semblance to quickly heal them.

But yeah, there's my Jaune Xiao-Long for you.

[open-hearth-rpg]

#RPGCovers Week Ten Ryuutama (2015) Ayoko Nagamori (art) Mariko Kobayashi (book design)

Final Fantasy Tactics was the first video game rpg I played for more than an hour. I’d tried Ultima, Wizardry, even Lunar on the Sega, but none of them interested me. But FFT, that we sunk 100s of hours into. Sherri and I loved it– and we specifically tracked down a copy of the Japanese version of the soundtrack because that had a poster with images of all the classes on it. 

That pencil-sketch style endures as one of my favorites, and it makes Ryuutama sing for me.  I love the colors here– watercolor? colored pencils? ink tinting? I backed the Kickstarter just on the strength of it, kind of later checking out what the game actually was. 

It combines a simplicity of elements (the manga-like characters) with a rich complexity you can easily miss. The center circle contains our characters– they’re happy and excited to be on the road. They have a dog with a scarf. The road rises up behind them, marked by the signposts in all directions. It;s easy to miss the figure laden down with a pack coming up behind them. 

That center circle is a window, and we see elements emerging out of it (feet, staff) that gives it depth. But notice that the circle is at the center of a map— looking like old orbis terratis style cartography, with the key element in a circle and marginalia surrounding here. 

Here that ornamentation is a figure looking down holding a book and a pile of equipment below. But we also have dragons at most of the compass rose points– all looking towards the characters. They’re not threatening, instead they’re watching their progress and cheering for them to continue on.  

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

People I want to get to know better…

Thank you @littlewinnow for the tag!

Last song: How do I say goodbye by Dean Lewis (Makes me cry every time I hear it and it also makes me want to write a Draco centered fic around it but idk if I have it in me)

Favourite color: PINK. I love pink, but I also like rainbows and I don't care if that doesn't count lmao

Last film/ show: Probably a cooking show like Beat Bobby Flay but I prefer to watch youtube instead of movies and shows because it has to be background noise for me or I can't focus (adhd sucks) and shows and movies require too much of my attention. I like to put on a youtube video while I do other things and just listen to it.

Sweet/savory/spicy: Spicy spicy spicy followed by something sweet!

Relationship status: Separated but single!

Last thing I googled: 'Do sea urchins have eyes?'

Current obsession: Video games. I go through a rotation of things and currently I enjoy playing video games whenever I can.

Last book: Fuck if I remember. I rarely read published books due to anxiety of not knowing what's in it. Which sounds silly, but there are a lot of things I can't read, and I don't like not knowing what I'll find. Why I tend to stick to fanfic where it's labelled for the most part.

Looking forward to: Having the energy to write lmao. I tend to hyper focus on one thing at a time. And since I'm currently in my video game rotation, that means writing is very limited. I might do a couple hundred words a day, which is not ideal but I will take it.

Unsure who has done or would be interested in doing this. I'll tag @valoale @celila-reblogs @lqtraintracks @kunfyouzed @sightedkarma @l0vegl0wsinthedark and anyone else that wants to play!

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Human - Danny Phantom

A/N: The no dialogue commission that is over 5,000 words and that I wrote back in 2019 and never uploaded! My bad.

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Characters: Danny Fenton, Ghost Writer

Rating: Teen Audiences

Summary: Danny Fenton had dealt with a lot of ghosts in his time as Phantom, but none of them had ever quite been so human as the Ghostwriter; none of them had ever been as annoying, either.

AO3 Link: Human Website Link: Human

—

If you enjoy this story then check out my Writing Commissions.

…or, if you prefer, you can just buy me a ko-fi! ☕ …or, if you have a nice allowance, support me on Patreon! 🪶

—

Human

This was not how Danny had planned on spending the last day of his winter break; his homework-free winter break that was now, due in large part to actual pity, also ghost-free. It was a ghost-free, paper-free, stress-free last day of winter break and Danny had been planning to use it to sleep, play games, sleep, eat, sleep, and sleep in that order. That was how he had planned the day. Sleeping, eating, or even playing video games, however, was not what he was doing. 

Instead of his soft, well-worn bed, Danny was uncomfortably slouched over in a wooden chair that looked to have been donated to three different elementary schools before ending up in the ‘bookstore cafe’ that he and his friends were trapped in; or at least, Danny and Tucker were trapped. Sam, the vicious vulture with perfect winged eyeliner that she was, looked to honestly be enjoying the cringe-filled ‘poetry’ that other goth teenagers were reading up on the small stage. 

The words were as out-of-focus as his gaze and Danny’s thoughts had turned towards wondering if he could fall asleep sitting up with his eyes open before a wisp of cool air slipped through his parted lips, a sensation like being zapped sparking down his spine until it was perfectly straight, his chair scooting back from the sudden movement. 

Opening his mouth to explain, Danny was instead met with a sharp shushing sound, Sam giving him one of her looks that could essentially be translated into a rough: take care of this quietly and quickly because if you ruin this for me then I’ll make sure you’re the next one up on that stage. 

Tucker, at least, looked mildly sympathetic as Danny took the soundless warning to heart and slipped out of his seat before silently making his way towards the men’s bathroom to change and find out which ghost wanted to ruin the last of his break. 

That had been the plan, at least, until he looked up and caught sight of the ghost himself and saw just which one it was. 

Danny could honestly say that he hadn’t expected the Ghostwriter to be the one that had set off his ghost sense, but, well. It made sense. Christmas was over and if it was one thing a ghost loved, it was revenge; especially when it was revenge against Danny Phantom.

The interesting thing, though, the thing that made Danny stop and instead change direction towards the ‘bar’ that only sold overpriced and watered down coffee where it was quiet and dim and easy to hide, was that Ghostwriter wasn’t looking all that, well… ghostly. 

Ghostwriter was still wearing that stupid trench coat that was purple along with his depressing grey clothing, but he wasn’t glowing or flying or declaring his revenge in a theatrical tone like Technus or Skulker or even the Box Ghost might. There was no I will destroy you, ghost child! or This time, it’s going to be you who rots behind bars! or even Hey, you fuck! 

No, it was just… Ghostwriter. His skin was still a washed out grey sort of color, but without the ghostly glow that lit it all up, he just looked like a tired college student who might have been coming down with the flu and had trudged in out of the cold to look for a book to finish off a last-minute paper. He just looked so human, which, Danny mused, might have been all the more reason to worry. A ghost didn’t go to those lengths to disguise himself unless there was something to hide. 

Stepping out of the shadows, and fully prepared to make a scene no matter how much Sam hated him after it was over, Danny watched as Ghostwriter walked around the edges of the tables and chairs that were pointed towards the stage, looked around the building slowly and carefully, and then… 

He was reading. The ghost who had almost ruined his life and destroyed his Christmas had walked up to a bookshelf, poked around for a few seconds, and then started to read one of the books like it was something he did all the time. 

Danny almost thought that the gods might have finally smiled upon him and blessed him just enough to where he wouldn’t have to deal with a ghost fight on his last day of winter break, but then he remembered just what kind of bookstore he was in. 

If Sam had managed to find a book on the Fright Knight in a place like this, he dreaded to think what a ghost who could change reality and knew what he was looking for could find. 

Saying a silent goodbye to his peace and quiet, and almost managing to dredge up just a speck of regret for the poetry ‘jam’ that was about to get broken up, Danny took a step forward and immediately froze when he met bright green eyes. 

The two were utterly quiet, but Danny fancied that he could hear what would no doubt be a smug I see you, ghost boy. 

Danny made sure to give his best glare back, channeling the rage he usually only felt when dealing with Vlad. The rage that screamed, loud and clear, If you even think of hurting anyone here it’ll be the last thing you do. 

Instead of showing the appropriate amount of fear and shuffling out of the store in a burst of sensibility, Danny watched as the Ghostwriter laughed, putting the book he had been reading back onto the shelf and then disappearing around the corner to the next one. 

Danny wasted no time, half-running over to the shelf and grabbing up the book that the ghost had just been looking at to see what unnatural disaster he was about to deal with next. It was like ice sliding down his spine as he saw that it was just… a book. There was nothing special about it beyond the fact it was a lame book about some old poetry. It was normal with a normal twisted plastic cover and normal bent pages that had been rifled through a time too many. Which meant Ghostwriter was fucking with him. 

Rounding the shelf, Danny kept his energy close to the surface, ready to snap into his changed form at a moment’s notice as he watched Ghostwriter set down another book he had picked up, glancing back to Danny. This time the smirk screamed, Nothing you could do would stop me.

It was enough to have Danny clenching his fists hard enough to make his palms bleed, wisps of green energy starting to curl through his fingers as he bared his teeth in a very clear, Try me. 

Ghostwriter vanished around another corner and Danny rushed to inspect the book he had been looking through, pissed to see that it was just another lame paperback book about poetry a decade too old that made it obvious that the ghost really was just screwing with him.

And that’s how it kept going. Danny followed Ghostwriter around the store, flipping through the books the ghost had been reading and trying to piece together what he could be up to. 

Instead of some grand scheme of revenge, though, Danny was looking through beaten up books of poetry, old nonfiction books about trains and air transportation that weren’t about airplanes, and a bright yellow and white How To book about how to play piano. It was that one that almost had Danny throwing the book at Ghostwriter himself to see if it would start a fight just to get the tension over with. 

Danny glared at nothing as he slammed the most recent book back onto one of the countless shelves, not caring if it was the proper spot or not as he turned around to keep following after Ghostwriter before feeling his heart stop at seeing the ghost directly in front of him and a few inches away. 

It took an eternity to make sure Danny hadn’t somehow been scared straight into his ghost form before he realized there was a ghost only a few inches away from him. He didn’t even manage to call up his energy, though, before what was clearly a book was tossed at him. 

Years of living with Jazz and her psychopathic librarian tendencies had Danny catching the book before any damage could come to it, a quick look up to Ghostwriter showing the ghost was smirking, as if to say, Your move, ghost boy. What now?

Danny opened his mouth to tell the Ghostwriter just where he could shove his pretentious attitude before the sound of snapping fingers distracted him just enough to glance over at the crowd of goths that were taking up the space. A look back to the ghost had Danny losing what was at least seven years of his life because the fucker was gone. 

Gripping the book he had caught tightly, Danny slammed it down against a half-working radiator that looked older than the store, freezing when he saw a piece of torn notebook paper slip out of the pages and flutter down towards the ground. Danny managed to snatch it up before it hit, looking at it suspiciously before turning it around and blinking at seeing the writing that was there. He half-thought it might have been a note some former nerd left behind as a placeholder, but that thought was quickly broken when he saw just what the words spelled out. 

There, in a neat, curling script that could only mean the writer was a pretentious control freak, were the words, Until next we meet, Phantom. 

It was a declaration of war and Danny was all too happy to meet it, vowing that he would destroy Ghostwriter molecule by molecule as he stomped back to his seat (after moving the book off the radiator), another goth nerd already up on stage and reciting what sounded like a sea shanty turned into a spoken word that was then read as a eulogy. 

Danny felt some of his rage drain out of him by the sheer confusion he felt at hearing what he was absolutely sure was not English, but the last of it was wiped away clear when he felt his phone buzz with a message from Tucker, who was looking at him with a worried expression. 

A quick glance to the message showed just what Danny had expected, a simple, ‘if we talk sam will kill us. you alright?’ 

Reading the message over another time or two, Danny gave a quick nod before backtracking and shaking his head at Tucker’s unimpressed look. Opening his mouth, and seeing Sam shoot him a look as if she had eyes in the back of her horns, Danny instead turned towards his phone, typing out a quick, ‘Not bad but it pisses me off when a ghost comes in here obviously picking a fight and then leaves without actually fighting I mean what the hell is that about?’ 

‘sounds like the dude was scoping out the enemy you know? did he do or say anything or something like that? cause you know i’ll leave and back you up no matter how much it would break my heart to not hear the rest of this beautiful poetry on stage.’ 

Danny had to smother a laugh into his fist and turn it into a weak cough that hopefully didn’t sound too fake, Tucker beaming proudly and sticking out like a sore thumb among all the dour goths crammed together. Danny let him have the moment before kicking his chair - just to keep him humble. ‘Nah I think he already left can’t sense him anymore at least but he didn’t even say anything he just left a note that was basically calling me out for a fight next time we meet.’ 

‘yikes. sounds like the dude still isn’t over the whole xmas thing. need me to do any research and see if i can’t try to find something out about the dude?’ 

‘Nah I already know how his powers work and his keyboard thing was busted so it’s not like he can stick me in a poem again I’ll just wait and deal with him when he comes looking for a fight he won’t win.’ 

Danny tucked his phone away as Tucker snickered behind his own, turning his attention back to whatever car crash was happening on stage, mind already focused on his plans for the war that Ghostwriter had declared. 

War had been the plan, at least, until a week passed with no fight with the Ghostwriter and Danny started asking for advice over the problem that was starting to make him twitchy with nerves over nothing happening. Ghosts, in his experience, usually didn’t wait long before getting revenge.

Long talks with Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and even his Mom, who had been the most judgmental out of all of them, had ended up with Danny calling in a favor to a way too amused Clockwork before toting a glowing book that hurt his eyes to look at to a library that he still half wanted to freeze into a giant ice block before shattering it and hiding the remains in the Far Frozen. 

It wasn’t like he had started the Christmas fight that had almost ended up destroying all of his relationships in his everyday life, and, really, when one thought about it, Ghostwriter was as big a dick as Danny was. Honestly, ‘until next we meet?’ It wasn’t like that could be anything but a declaration of war! 

It was still a challenge Danny was all for if the nerd ever followed through on it, but now if he actually returned the book he had accidentally (which was very important to point out since he hadn’t started the fight) destroyed, then that meant he had the moral high ground and he was right; or something to that effect, at least. 

Overall, it was why Danny took great satisfaction in throwing the book in the nerd’s face as soon as the library doors opened way too dramatically, taking a moment to gleefully enjoy the annoyed rage that faded into shocked awe and oh, yeah. Danny was just that good. 

While the ghost looked down at the book with wide eyes, Danny took a quick moment to really notice how, even in the Ghost Zone, the dude still looked human. His skin looked way more pale and grey, of course, what with all the crazy lighting and green, but he still could have passed as a human with just a few changes. It was… weird. 

The only other ‘human’ ghosts he had really been around was Ember, Johnny, and Kitty. While Kitty’s skin tone could have been sick human, her hair was way too ghostly to ever pass, and Ember was the same with her hair, and Johnny- Well, no, he pretty much had been human as long as he suppressed that glowing thing that all ghosts did. Jazz had almost ended up dating him he looked human enough. Maybe it had something to do with age. Ghostwriter didn’t- 

Focus. Danny was here for a reason and that reason was to prove that, obviously, he was the better ghost. 

It took hours before Ghostwriter finally looked up at him, opening his mouth to no doubt annoy Danny into his full death. He made sure to cut it off by pointing to the piece of paper that was sticking out of the book. It was a simple note that read: 

Nerd.

You can thank Clockwork for this since he owed me a favor or I owe him one. Not sure. It’s Clockwork. Enjoy and stay the fuck out of my town and my life. 

Fuck you.

Danny made sure that by the time Ghostwriter finished the note he was well on his way back to the Amity Park portal, confident with his carefully calculated risk that his hands were washed of the mess that was the Ghostwriter. 

⁂

Danny had honestly expected to be done dealing with ghostly business for at least a few weeks after his Christmas. He should have been done with the Ghostwriter, all debts should have been repaired, and there should have been absolutely no reason for that ghost, or any other ghost, to be anywhere near him or his town. 

Honestly, when thinking about just the Ghostwriter business, Danny was the one who had suffered the most. He couldn’t just get rid of the trauma he had gone through that Christmas, but Ghostwriter had gotten his book back? 

No matter how it played out, Danny was the one who suffered the most in the whole scenario, which was why he couldn’t figure out why, a week or something like it later, he was staring groggily at a glowing book that was on his desk on a morning he had to be up early for school. 

The winter sun was too dim to light up his room like it might have if it was summer and all of Danny’s lamps were either turned off or burned out from where he had been sleeping, so there really was nothing to cause the glow around the book except the book itself - which meant it was a ghost book. That meant it was a trap. A trap in the morning. Danny really had thought that ghosts had better manners than that. 

Scrubbing at his eyes and suppressing the urge to mutter words that he had no doubt his mother would hear even with doors and possibly two floors between them, Danny dragged himself to his feet and stumbled over to the glowing book with a title that looked like it had first been written in crayon before being properly typed or drawn. 

Except the longer he stared at the title the more it seemed to make sense, Danny squinting before finally managing to at least make out the word history, which, ugh, did some ghost prank him with a ghostly history textbook? This had Poindexter written all over it.

Snatching the book with a solid plan of hiding it in his backpack until he could throw it back into the Ghost Zone, Danny paused at the fluttering piece of paper that slipped free of the pages and tumbled towards the floor. 

Danny made sure to wait at least seven seconds to make sure it wasn’t another form of trap, lightly nudging the piece of paper with his foot before nodding and picking it up, mentally ruling out Poindexter as a suspect and adding in Plasmius. It would be just like that Fruitloop to give him some kind of test or riddle or… familiar looping scrawl that Danny had last seen in a bookshop. For a moment, he could only think that he forgot, in his calculated risk, that he was bad at math.

Phantom, 

Thank you for the miraculous recovery and return of my written works that came to a gruesome end this past Yule. While your own correspondence left much to be desired, the return is appreciated. 

I’m writing to you now due to the discovery of this book during one of my searches. While I’m certain that you already have a thorough understanding of the Spirit World and its inhabitants, it occurred to me that you might not yet be aware of certain specifics. 

Please feel free to peruse this book at your leisure before returning it to my library at your discretion. I would prefer to have it returned within a fortnight but will be most understanding if it happens to take longer. 

Regards, 

Ghostwriter 

Danny had to read through the note four times before he finally crumpled it into a ball and threw it on his desk because no matter how many times he read the words his early morning brain was simply not going to be able to process that. God, the Ghostwriter was like if his sister was a boy and had become a ghost while studying for her finals or something. 

The moment it took to process the thought had a shiver running up Danny’s spine, resolve hardened as he dug around through his desk until he found a cheap pen and a crumpled piece of paper that he quickly smoothed out before using it to articulate his thoughts and feelings perfectly. 

Ghostwriter

I said stay out of my town and my life and this is doing none of those things. Look it’s plain to see that this book is some kind of trap I mean let me guess you stole it from Plasmius and now you’re gonna pin it on me? As if I don’t have enough problems with the Fruitloop fucking thanks. 

Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to give you this book back. You’re going to take it. You’re going to keep out of Amity Park. The next time I see you or any other books in this town I will BURN THEM ON PURPOSE. The last thing I need to deal with in life is another ghost out to kill me for something that’s no longer my fault. 

REGARDS 

Fuck you 

Biting the blunt end of his pen, Danny read over the letter a time or two to make sure it had everything he wanted to say before nodding and slipping the piece of paper between the cover and the first page of the still glowing book. God, the sooner he got the thing out of his room the better. It had probably already tripped at least three ghost sensors in his house. 

A quick check of the time until he was meant to be at school, and a weighing of his options, had Danny swearing (very quietly) to himself and triggering his change into his ghost form. An hour wasn’t much time to get things done, but it would be enough to get rid of a book.

Besides, Danny hadn’t really thought of the Plasmius thing until he wrote his letter, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. A ghost was too weak to take him on? Send Plasmius. It was the perfect plan and, actually, one Danny could maybe use against some of the more annoying ghosts. Plus, it’d just be hilarious to see Plasmius go up against Technus. The two would probably monologue at each other for hours- Focus. 

Danny had a book to get rid of, a day to get ready for, and at least three classes to sleep in. He couldn’t do that until Ghostwriter was dealt with. 

Dropping down through the second and first floor and into the basement with the book still in hand, Danny shot towards the portal with a burst of speed, shivering at the feeling that washed over him as he did so. It always felt like a wave of static that rolled over his skin only without any of the pain. He had explained it to Sam and Tucker once as the feeling just before getting shocked, but both of them had looked at him like he was crazy, so maybe it was a half-ghost thing. 

Making a mental note to try and taunt the answer out of Vlad later, Danny focused on getting to the stupid library Ghostwriter lived in, which, really. Who lived in a library? It was so stupid. 

It was close enough, though, and Danny was sure it hadn’t even taken ten minutes before he was moving to bang on the doors. He didn’t even get a single knock in before the doors were opening smoothly, no one on the other side to annoy him. 

A glance at the book, the empty doorway, and back towards the direction he had come from had Danny cycling through excuses even as he stepped inside, nodding to himself when the doors closed behind him with a very obvious locking noise because of course they did. That was just his life, wasn’t it? 

Biting the inside of his cheek until the urge to either scream or swear passed, Danny managed a slow breath, half-remembering something Jazz had told him about counting his breathing or whatever, and then continued on into the library, book clutched tightly in his hand as he contemplated just leaving it on the floor to be found later. 

Annoyed as he was, it took him way too long before he realized that the library he was in wasn’t silent. Instead of the silence he had expected, there was a soft, gentle chiming noise. 

It wasn’t overpowering like what he would hear from some of Jazz’s guided meditation tapes that she played way too loudly when stressed over testing, but it was something that reminded him of the windchimes in Sam’s greenhouse when they tucked themselves away in there in the winter, humid air warming them up and taking away the sting of the cold winters that Amity Park was known for. 

The soft chimes reminded him of his friend’s laughter at all of his bad jokes and the peaceful silence that came from being around people who didn’t expect anything out of him. It was a sound that had something in him relaxing. 

The more he relaxed, the more he realized that the library he was in was actually kind of cool. At first it had looked like some official capital library kind of thing with too tall bookshelves and carpet that was enough to make him think it was ugly, but the further he walked into the library the more different it looked. 

He wasn’t sure if it was a ghost thing or just the library he was in, but a glance down showed the carpet slowly and smoothly changed from the burnt looking red it had been into a cool purple that felt soft when Danny chanced landing and walking instead of flying. It wasn’t exactly like he was sinking into it, but he could see himself spread out on the floor during a study session and being comfortable enough. 

The shelves, if possible, were more surprising in their changes than the carpet. Instead of towering, structured shelves like something out of Jazz’s dream, the bookshelves became lopsided and mismatched like each one had been found in a thrift shop or an antique store or something. 

Some of them looked nice enough, but others had obviously crooked shelves and slanted tops and there were even more that had dark spots in the wood that showed some form of weather damage. It was straight out of Jazz’s nightmare, but something about all the clunky, mismatched shelves filled with books both glowing and not made it all look… human. 

There were low tables and chairs of different sizes spread around, couches and armchairs decades old that looked like they had been dragged to a certain corner and left forgotten, and lamps of all different shapes and sizes spread out in a way that made no sense. 

It was something out of a fever dream and Danny couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that, if nothing else, he had finally found a library he liked - a library that belonged to a ghost that did not act like he would be able to handle living in such a messy, crazy place. No matter how he looked at it, the place he was in just didn’t look like somewhere Ghostwriter could live. 

Danny probably would have poked around even more if he hadn’t noticed that the soft chiming noises had stopped and instead been replaced with soft muttering that almost sounded like swearing. The voice was just familiar enough that Danny was pushing forward, drawing to a stop as he saw Ghostwriter was… not looking like Ghostwriter. 

The ghost was curled up into an overstuffed armchair that, like everything else, looked like it had come from a completely different decade. That part alone was strange enough, but the truly strange part was the fact Ghostwriter was sitting half propped up against one side with his legs thrown over the other side, a laptop resting in his lap as he glared at a screen that looked bright enough he could already hear his mom telling him that he was going to ruin his eyes. 

That wasn’t even the worst of it. Instead of mania and cackling and making Danny’s life a living hell, the ghost looked tired as if he hadn’t slept- Danny hadn’t thought ghosts slept, but the proof was in front of him considering he saw bags under the other’s eyes. There was also the fact Ghostwriter’s hair was an utter wreck, as if he had run a hand through it like Danny did to his own hair and, just a few feet away, the man’s stupid coat was thrown over the back of a couch and, to top it all off, he was wearing no shoes and instead just socks. 

He looked human. 

The thought had passed through his head again and again over the days he had been dealing with Ghostwriter, but the other was just so human. 

There was no grandstanding or monologuing or crazy plan or revenge scheme, but instead somebody curled up and working on their laptop and relaxing in what was obviously their home. 

What couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds and Ghostwriter was freezing and snapping his head up to look at him, something in his eyes going from hard and sharp to confused and surprised as he seemed to realize that, yes, Danny Phantom was standing in front of him. 

Later Danny would explain, if only to himself, that it was the scrunched up expression the ghost made that decided it; the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the twisted little expression of his mouth that looked stupid enough to laugh at, and the crazy hair that was near standing on end with how much it had obviously been abused. 

In that moment, though, Danny could only hold the book he had brought behind his back, slipping out the note he had written and crumpling it up before letting it turn to ash in his hand. 

Once that was done, he opened his mouth to speak. 

[notyoung-neil]

Ooc:

AM I YAPPIN ABT YOUNG NEIL HEADCANNONS INSTEAD OF WORKING OR SLEEPING?! YEAHH LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOO

If you fucking know me or see my ACC (and my other blog accs) yk I love the OG ships like jophen/ startech (joseph x stephen) mobillce (mobile x wallace) and maybe a few other non-cannon ships like kimona (Kim x romona) and...fuck idk the ship name for hollie x roxie or Kim x Lisa but yeah those too. For neil, personally, I'm a nordegrim shipper :)) Sorry, neilphen fans :((

Since I imagine he's still on collage I assume he's taking sonthing/ changed courses into somthing more...movie thing? Idk. Mainly working with cameras, screen writing, anything movie based or whatever

Since for Joe I made him Hispanic, other scott as Chinese, I don't really know what to do for the quirky silly little guy like neil. Gimme some ideas if y'all ever see this

Has attachment issues. Or fear of being left alone or not included

He has eczema that flairs up during the winter. Sometimes, he cries silently because of how itchy he is and doesn't like the cream the doctors told him to use because it's a weird texture he isn't comfortable with

Whenever stephen is back home from work, they usually sit down and watch movies together or during dinner. Young neil yaps about a movie, and stephen replies with a dry and simple "mhm, " "yeah", "that's cool -" and sometimes the occasional questions. Neil doesn't mind since he knows stephen is tired

He sometimes steals money from stephen but not all the time. He pays stephen back quickly by making some dinner (that he fucked up)

Favorite games have to be anything RPG based and zelda. Maybe he also got into the virtual world hype like UB funkies, webkinz, neopets, or club penguin (mainly UB funkies)

If he dose have a job I imagine he'd work at the second cup just to hang out with Stacy more, maybe a comic book store, or at no account video with Kim so he can watch more movies for free

I imagine his interest related friends has to be hollie (bc I see hollie also being a cinaphile), Joseph (because he wants to learn how to operate cameras and stuff and make it look cool by editing) and Jimmy (fellow zelda and starwars fan)

He has acne/ acne scars and back acne (I think that's the term) and he always picks/scratches at it

Speaking of picking. He always picks at his fingers and sometimes peels off a good chunk to the point it is bleeding bad, so he has bandaids on his hands and fingers most of the time. He doesn't mind which sorta bandaid. He likes the colorful ones that have like a character on it, but he worries if he might be too distracting for him when he's in class

I love how ironic it is for him to wear a heart on his sleeve sorta shirt even though he doesn't really show his feelings that often. He has the same ass stare all the time, and I think it's silly. So I just imagine he would say whatever is in his head without second thought, or he would mumble it if he thinks it's weird. So whenever he talks about his feelings, like how he feels about the whole "band abandoning him" situation, he actually means It and doesn't really hide it at all.

Steph (Neil's older sister) got him a pair of headphones bc thier parents were always fighting and a Walkman so he can listen to some music. He still uses those headphones to this day even though their broken in half, the sound quality is terrible and the ear puff thingy is crumbling

Whenever he goes out to the mall or out with anyone, he either has his hands in his pocket or out, bc someone has to grab onto his wrist so he wouldn't stop and stare at things (it's mainly Stephen and Kim who has to grip onto his wrist and drag him along. He dont mind tho :/ meanwhile stacy just holds onto his hand and stares with him)

Whenever stephen has a day off and he sees neil playing video games, he asks neil if he finishes his homework. If neil says no, stephen takes away his Gameboy color, keep it in his room and tell him to do his homework. If yes then stephen would just shrug it off, ruffle his hair up and say "ight, cool"

Neil was probably the first to find out that stephen was gay when stephen brought Joseph over (make of that as you will)

He writes movie reviews online and hopes people will see em but his writing skills are ass and he just describes whatever he can and think "yeah that's good enough"

Stephen treats neil like family since well, steph (Neil's older sister) isn't in contact with him that much. And because of the name similarities, neil just treats stephen like steph

His "stuffy" are those hot rubber water bottles (I forgor the name but you pour hot water into them and they help you with cramps and aches and shit-) with a wool sleeve wrapped around it

Since this rp acc is a bit related to the stephen acc. He likes bone crusher a lot! Since he mainly stays home, he has a new buddy to talk to and hang out with. But he leaves all the chores to stephen like cleaning out the litter box or something

Ever since he found out stephen had a cat he was pissed that stephen named the cat "bone crusher" not Link, Skull Kid,Meowth,Litten or Shinx or somthing cool like that but he continues to call bone crusher, bone crusher.

He has a bike and takes it to his college campus. He has the gear for it, too. Helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, and gloves. Stephen said if he doesn't wear em he'll get into an accident, and that scared neil

Idk why, but i imagine him being the type to collect... something! Maybe anything to fill up his already messy room!

He's a maximalist (I think that's how you spell it), as you can see from his room

OUGHHH, I CAN'T CHOOSE BETWEEN MAKING NEIL A DEMI BOY OR MAKING NEIL TRANS FTM AJXJWJXKWKXKWKKXKS

I imagine he has those window markers to doodle on his window or to doodle out ideas for another screen play

I imagine him and Stacy are pretty much on the platonic and cute relationship wise. Holding hands, cuddling all that sorta stuff and stacy likes to listen to Neil's rambles about movies and how good/bad they are

Neil likes it whenever he receives gifts :DDD and tries to pay back by acts of service or something idk. Even if it's his birthday or Christmas he makes sure he owes everybody a equal amount. For example (*COUGH COUGH* DS SITUATION) he's gotta pay back stephen by taking care of bone crusher for a day maybe, doing Stephen's chores and stuff

Not a neil headcannon but I imagine stacy trying to watch the movies neil recommend her so she can catch up and talk to neil abt it and I think it's really cute and sweet :DDD

Yk damn well he's got a BIG ASS forehead underneath all that hair. Justin Bieber lookin ah. No wonder why young neil is Canadian/j

Also not a neil headcannon. But I imagine everyone calling stephen, STEVEN (IDK HOW STEPHENS NAME IS PRONOUNCED. IS IT STEVEN OR STEPH-EM WJKDWKDJWN) that includes neil but Joseph calls stephen by his last name (stills) (joseph just calls everyone by thier last names to seem fancy and shit expect for Neil's. He just calls neil, kid or just neil because he doesn't know to how to read Neil's last name nor say it so...he just calls neil, neil)

Bases around one headcannon I saw. I forgor what acc and where it came from (I'll go ahead and credit them if I find it it) but since neil had like parents who always fought or is strict as hell he perfected the ways of walking around the house quiet af and accidentally scars ppl bc of this

[samuelroukin]

15 questions for 15(?) friends

tagged by @c4tto626 thank uuu

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? not for my deadname, but i named myself after my first crush (first name) and my dead grandpa (middle name) lmao

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? i Almost cried at monkey man, but other than that... not recently i think

DO YOU HAVE KIDS? hell no i can't even keep my plants alive. also i'm infertile 💪

WHAT SPORTS HAVE YOU PLAYED/DO YOU PLAY? none 🙅‍♂️

DO YOU USE SARCASM? too much for someone bad at knowing when others do 💀

FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? fit and eyes

WHAT IS YOUR EYE COLOR? blue but like. boring blue

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? scary movies

ANY TALENTS? deflection and minding my business 🙏

WHERE WERE YOU BORN? at my mom's house about half an hour from where i live now

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES? writing, video games, watching tv/movies, reading, giffing when i'm not lazy lol

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? no 😢

HOW TALL ARE YOU? 178cm/5'10

FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? art/photography, history, language

DREAM JOB? maybe one day i'll be good enough to write a book or two lmao 🙏 other than that no job for me please ldjkkjhs

it's only letting me tag 5 people instead of 15 rip. @izzyspussy @itsthevoid @izzy-b-hands @kinard-buckley @cooperhoward no pressure 😗

[shirefantasies]

Hello!! I saw that you're temporarily open for matchup requests so I hope that I'm not too late with this! :) specifically from LOTR please~

I'm female, 5'7", Virgo, ISFP, with stronger preference for males. I have pale skin with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. My wardrobe mostly consists of darker colors, my favorite combos being black with red or pink.

I consider myself empathetic and honest. I am reserved most of the time, only ever talking if someone else initiates the convo, though I can go on and on about my hyperfixations and interests. Like even when I'm with a group of friends, I'd stay quiet most of the time and just listen so I may come across as a bit socially awkward. I've been told I'm a good listener and so I end up being someone many confide in or as someone who becomes stuck in the middle of a conflict. I am a night owl and get easily exhausted or even irritated when I'm out and it's crowded so I definitely need time and space on my own to recharge after a long day. I suppose among love languages, I lean to using words of affirmation. When I do have enough energy, I also like to cook and bake for my family and friends (and get upset if it doesn't end up turning right).

I really like animals, especially big cats, dogs and wolves. My favorite genre of fiction is horror so sharing scary/ghost stories would be my favorite group activity. My sense of humor tends of be on the dry, sarcastic side. My preferred methods of workout are swimming, badminton, and walking. When I get bored, I tend to doodle and hum. I don't consider myself a good singer and I'd only get the confidence to sing in front of others if I was a bit tipsy (I don't drink much, I am so lightweight it's not even funny and if I do, I stick with cocktail or beer).

In video games that involve combat and exploration, I tend to rely on speed and stealth (my footfalls are actually quiet irl too). Among weapons, I prefer using swords (dual wielding, if available), though having a bit of magic would be fun to use too (especially if you can set things on fire) :3

congrats on the 300 followers!

You are not at all! Thank you for waiting between my recovery buffer posts & older matchups! So here we go now love! Your match is…

Legolas!

Some people joke what a funny couple you are due to you both seeming so quiet, but in truth you are drawn to each other’s peace. Legolas is drawn to your gentle presence, the light falls of your steps upon the bank of the river where he meets you, water flowing at your feet. You are not the only one swimming that day, but you cut such a majestic figure as you move gracefully through the water, emerging with illuminated droplets descending from your dark hair. Since that very first moment you stuck in Legolas's heart.

He loves the way you hum as you work, dark skirts swirling about the floor as you swish through the kitchen. A smile plays on his lips as he compliments the work you've let out to cool and you drily tease him about stealing it. Instead, he offers to help hand it out and you are grateful to save your energy. Normally you do not prefer company in the kitchen, but this elf's presence is calming rather than draining. Your motions and his assume a rhythm unbroken by distraction.

He runs into you out in town, smiling at the large dog following at your heels while you carry your basket. You look content as you go to market, purchasing all you need. Catching the way your hand runs wistfully over a small ornately bound book, he finds his feet carrying him to market as well, his hands delving into pockets and being rewarded with the weight of a tiny tome. The following day's trip to your kitchen is met not with wry humor, but wide smiles and sheepish revelations of art. "You may think them the smallest of sketches, but to me I see a connection to this world." "Is that your way of saying you can't draw?" Yet another smile you've drawn from the elven prince. "You've caught me there."

When orcs attack your village, his first thought is to get to you, your hearth and your dog and all your little captures of your surroundings, and let any who dare trifle with it know it has a blade and a bow behind it. Boots thudding lightly as always against dirt, then stone, he arrives outside your home to see you there, a glinting sword swinging in each hand. Grinning, he shakes his head. He should have known. Shooting one of your twin assailants off you, he joins the fray. "Sorry I'm late." "You should be!" You grin back at him. "This party started an hour ago."

This visit has only a few days left. Ignoring that, you climb higher into the tree before you settle, pulling the red-and-black swirled book from your small satchel. Legolas sits in the crook of the tree right below yours. "Shall I read or would you prefer to?" It's as if he can sense your energy, see right through your facade to the highs and lows of your heart. The book in question held some of your favorite ghost stories, old legends and more local frights alike. You joke about the prince being able to handle it, but in the end you know whose voice you would prefer to ring out with it that day.

You are the only one Legolas trusts to saddle up his horse, hand him the bags he'd surreptitiously caught you slipping a copy of your book of horrors into as a memento. He says your name softly as a wish when you stand at his mount's side, catching your nod before he captures your lips with his, motions slow, deliberate as if he would wake up from the dream at any moment. Your name is even more delicious whispered after a kiss. "Wait for me." "Who else would I even look twice at?"

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[threshie]

I "graduated" from physical therapy today after months of attending it. Whoohoo!

Also, I just got my blood test results back, and I'm no longer anemic (for the first time in my adult life.) Whoohooooo!

Actually, let's just do a gratitude dump, because there's a lot:

The surgery scar has faded a lot, and it hasn't even been a year (I ♥ you, cocoa butter!) My daily exercise routine I started on the 1st has resulted in visible muscle definition starting to show on my arms. I got an email back from the apartment I want to move to, and the income level they want is almost exactly the income level I have. I finally got around to trimming my hair this morning, and it looks nice now instead of overgrown. I found one of my favorite shirts in two other colors on clearance for $3 each, so now I have more comfy layering options. I went over the calories in my diet, and I'm eating the right amount (not over, which is what I expected.) I finally got to watch Warlords of Atlantis after years of it not being available streaming anywhere. The weather is sunny and mild, and I'm enjoying being barefoot and in short sleeves. I acquired three new house plants—one is a coffee plant, one has purple velvet fuzz on green leaves, and one has glittery red leaves that look like butterflies' wings. I got to go see Dune 2 in the movie theater. I planted seeds that will sprout soon. My indie author income is finally on the rise again after a tight winter season. I can now build my author mailing list thousands strong without having to pay monthly to do so. I have a plan in place so I can cover my taxes without extra fees. My latest (very smutty) published work that I wasn't confident in has gotten some positive ratings by readers, and is my second bestselling book this month. I finished the story for my favorite video game of recent years, Days Gone, after playing for ages without trying to finish it (and the ending was great!) I got to finally read the gorgeous artbook for said game since spoilers weren't a concern anymore. I confirmed with my doctor and blood tests that my hypoglycemia is not diabetes-related (and is a literal medical need for snacks.) I officially handed off the reins of the Discord server I started 4 years ago, and left it in the hands of some awesome people. I'm finally getting some good nights of sleep after having trouble with insomnia for awhile. I finally learned how to moisturize my face and my skin has been doing great ever since. I get to write a smutty gay novella about the Jersey Devil and get paid for it.

[facesblind]

𝒈𝒆𝒕  𝒕𝒐  𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘  𝒎𝒆  𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓  !!

alias / name:  i  go  by  softie  (from  soft  puppy)  here,  but  my  name's  marinette  (&&.  i  use  mari  a  lot)

birthday:  october  27th

zodiac  sign:  scorpio

height:  5' 3"

hobbies:  playing  video  games,  reading,  writing,  dogs,  dnd,  idk  i'm  boring  D:

favorite  color:  baby / pastel  pink,  baby / pastel  blue,  grey,  black  &&.  anything  desaturated!

current  book:  cyberpunk  -  no  coincidence  by  rafał  kosik  &&.  tithe  by  holly  black

last  song:  poison  from  hazbin  hotel  don't  come  @  me  this  song  SLAPS

last  film / show:  as  of  late,  i  watch  a  lot  of  dr.  house  with  my  boyfriend!!  also  i'm  watching  tokyo  mew  mew  new  as  inspiration  for  writing  ichigo  on  my  multi  :3

inspiration:  anything!!  i  like  to  create  stories  in  my  head  &&.  not  being  myself,  so  that's  mostly  it.  i  like  to  look  at  pretty  things  &&.  listen  to  pretty  things  and  create  scenarios  based  on  that.  AND  ALSO!!  my  writing  partners  are  such  a  huge  inspiration??

behind  url: changed  a  few days ago  from  prosopagn0sis  (which  is  just  face  blindness  with  a  zero  instead  of  an  o)  to  facesblind...  which  is  a  variation  of  face  blindness;  said  disability  affects  my  character  so  much  it  just  had  to  be  the  url.

fun  fact  about  me: i  am  nonbinary  but  i'm  also  so  girlypop.  any  game  i  play  i  have  to  play  pretty  girls  in  pretty  (usually  pink)  outfits  with  pretty  pink  weapons;  there  has  to  be  glitter  and  sparkles  and  all!!  all  my  setup  is  pink  with  rainbow  lights.  cute  dresses  are  a  way  to  go.  and  i  love  having  ribbons  in  my  hair.  i'm  learning  new  hairstyles  to  have  something...  idk  cool  at  work  that  doesn't  allow  make  up  or  piercings.  oh  and  i  have  like,  nineteen  piercings?  and  my  freckles  are  tattooed  &&.  there  are  three  hearts  hidden  inbetween  them!!

tagged  by:  @crookedredemption  (thank  you  baby!!  :3) tagging:  @buriedabove,  @phasmasum,  @siabann, @sp1ed, @pantichrist (hello!! &&. nice to meet you!), @rotcalypse (i have no idea how did sonic fandom found me, but hi!!!), @brutalmasks, @caracarnn, @the1ongcon, @oftoska  &&.  anyone  who  would  like  to  do  that  (tag  me!!!)

[beskindtoyourself]

10 Things to do with your hands...

...instead of picking at your skin.

Draw/paint Don't worry, you don't have to be Picasso for this one. It's enough to just scribble on a piece of paper, without getting a great painting out of it. If you still feel a bit lost about how to approach this, you can use colouring books to guide you! Finger paint can also be really fun if you'd really like to get in there.

Clean/tidy up your room or house I know, this probably sounds like the kind of tip your mom would give you when you tell her you're bored, but it really is effective! Tidying, cleaning, scrubbing, folding, and sorting all demand your hands' attention. And it's a win-win if as a result, you have a clean room!

Crochet/knit I've been addicted to crocheting ever since I picked it up as a hobby a few years ago. There is just something so soothing about working on a project and watching it grow - simply through your own hands!! If you're a beginner, there is a lot of great resources and tutorials out there to help guide you.

Bake/cook something Have a recipe you've been wanting to try out for a long time? Now is the time!! Does it involve a lot of hands-on parts like kneading dough? Even better!! This could also be a fun activity to do with someone else.

Use fidget toys If you've stumbled over this post, then this probably isn't news to you - but fidget toys really do work so well if you need a quick distraction or something to keep you focused and your hands occupied! The trick that makes all the difference to me is to keep them in various places so I can't use laziness as an excuse to not get them. So keep one in your bag, on your keychain, on your desk and on your nightstand and you'll be good to go!

Write a letter Whether it be to someone you love or just to keep for yourself, writing down those thoughts that make your brain go !!! can be really helpful. Maybe you can even write a letter to your past or future self and tell them how proud of them you are - and how grateful for the journey you share.

Paint your nails It really helps me to paint my nails because it gives me that one second of resistance before I pick where I realise I don't really want to mess up my pretty nails by picking. Also, if your nails are just freshly painted, you can't move your hands around too much or you'll get the paint anywhere, which can be helpful to slow down your fidgety hands.

Play a game on your phone Playing little games on my phone is the ideal way for me to distract myself when I am anxiously waiting and have some time to kill, like before a doctor's appointment. It doesn't have to be anything crazy, calmer games like Mahjong or coloring book apps can do the job just as effectively.

Play a musical instrument There is almost no musical instruments (apart from singing of course) which do not in some ways rely on your hands to do the job - so if you have a guitar in your closet you haven't touched in years, now is the time to whip it out! Just a little twinkle twinkle can already be enough to take your mind elsewhere and give your fingers a job to do.

Try finger yoga Yes, you can do what usually involves your entire body just with your fingers! There are a lot of great videos and tutorials for hand and wrist yoga on youtube you can use as a guide on how to do this! Given that we sometimes bend our hands in pretty uncomfortable ways while picking, this can be very helpful to make your you don't injure yourself. Happy relaxing :)

[mashiee]

Arlo headcanons please please please gimme

hrmhehahaheheaysysh

ok so

i hc that he has 4 older siblings, but was separated from them pretty early on due to [REDACTED] so he was practically alone his whole life, with the occasional step in from valerie

*[REDACTED] is a whole Thing, so send another ask in if you want me to talk about it and go into detail abt my hcs for arlo family/family dynamic(s)

this is very much why he so easily believes her and why he seems so much more adamant about the hierarchy compared to other characters

also why he acts like an only child despite having four older siblings

his sister has tried to reconnect with him but its a work in progress

he collects antique buttons and very much has a hyper fixation on them

yes he is autistic, tbh i probably dont even have to say that

bee allergy, esp hornets

hates wearing shorts outside would rather die than wear them out it feels so weird to him

honestly im not entirely sure what i hc arlos gender. it tends to switch between cismasc and amab demiboy. also sometimes tho its amab nonbinary or agender

also a bit unsure about pronouns. he/him for now but if i end up going for nonbinary or agender later on probably it/its pronouns. or maybe they/them

speaking of being queer he has internalized homophobia (possibly via valerie) so he probably doesnt come out until much later in life

he struggles with allowing himself to be feminine or sometimes even androgynous. was taught growing up that he has to be masculine and strong

its being worked on

plays animal crossing a lot

probably the only video game he plays. aside from maybe like. tetris

probably plays with elaine whether he knows its her or not

gay asexual

says he prefers dogs bc theyre more obedient but in reality he prefers cats

multiple times in a week he'll have moments where he'll suddenly Realize just exactly how Tall. he is

prefers reading over movies/tv/yt/etc. it just isnt as interesting to him. also he prefers things that are physical and that he can feel

acts all superior and shit but in reality hes super self deprecating and thinks he'll never amount to what is expected of him

was deprived of having hobbies and playing as a child so he's very much discovering his inner child as he grows and gets further away from the box he tries to mold into

likes adult coloring books a lot

cant stand repeating sounds it makes him dissociate

derealizes a lot

cant recognize himself in a mirror most of the time so he just. doesnt have them. and when in places that do have them he wont look at them. like if he's in the bathroom he'll look down the entire time he wont look up

same reason why he hates photos

absolutely despises mashed potatoes they are so slimey and disgusting

sometimes i consider hcing him as being 18-19 instead of 17-18 bc like. a lot of autistic children repeat kindergarten for lack of communication/interaction with other children

at the same time tho i feel like valerie wouldnt have allowed that

is a cat person

both in that he prefers cats and also that hes a wet cat

he never actually fights people he just crushes them w his barrier or lets them suffer the backlash from attacking it and then moves on

therefore he is weak asf and has no body strength. mr mans has noodle arms

long eyelashes

like john hes also vampire tier but hes sophisticated whereas john is like... feral vampire

sometimes i hc him as british and having an english accent bc i think its funny

can cook enough to survive but its mediocre

cannot handle ANY amount of spicy

pepper and any form of mint is spicy to him

hates mushrooms

has tried weed exactly two (2) times and has hated it both times

in his words "i felt like a coffee grinder with nothing to grind"

why do you, as a man, feel like you need something to grind? do you want to grind on a man?? is that it?? gay

the first person who convinced him to try it was a combo of rei and kuyo, the second time it was holden

arlo still questions why he did it the second time KNOWING he wouldnt like it

theres a senior chat and arlo got named "Big Daddy" in the chat by holden and he has no idea how to change it and no one will tell him so he just suffers

you would think as a king or whatever hed know how to blackmail ppl to get them to do what he wants but he actually doesnt

people just automatically listen to him so when hes faced with someone who wont, he either broods about it or straight up attacks them. sometimes both

more arlo stuff: arlo sibling info | [REDACTED]