#miss frog jewelry

[caveyscraft]

So, somehow, I forgot to tell you all this, but LOOK!

The wonderful Miss Frog Jewellery has started displaying my beary bois in her shop!

This way, if you are local to Lancaster, you can go and SEE one and FEEL the soft, and get an upclose look at all the ✨️✨️✨️️D E T A I L S ✨️✨️✨️ before purchasing one through me here!

Please note, at present, those bears are display only, taken from upcoming con stock! So if you order one, you get one freshly made and just for you!

So if you haven't yet gone to Miss Frog's shop, first of all, why not? And second, go see the things!

Miss Frog Marketgate Shopping Centre Marketgate Lancaster LA1 1JF

[vitiateoriginator]

They got me working in the beauty department at my new job. Like how do you look at me and think "oh yeah this frog looks like they know exactly what to do with makeup and skincare products"

[faun-the-fawn77]

"𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃"

Lucifer Morningstar x F!FallenAngel!Reader

Genre: SMUT

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: oral(m! receiving), creampie, breeding, mentions of having kids, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, brief fingering, whipped!Lucifer, Lucifer being a sweetheart, reader is horny 25/8

Desc: A one night stand is a one night stand... right? What happens when Lucifer keeps going back to the same fallen angel just for a taste of Heaven? Oh no... seems the Devil has caught feelings once again!

Note: Lucifer smut;) like there isn't enough already. Requests are open now! This is third and final fic of the votes. Don't worry to those who voted for others! I will be working on all those fics:) Next after this one is a part two to "Lips Of An Angel". Just have to...find a song that will match the part two:)

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Another shitty day in Hell. Sinners were offing each other in the streets of the Pride Ring. The angelic building in the middle of the city shone brightly in the red light, the clock on each side had big letters reading ‘36 DAYS’. 

Lucifer, King of Hell himself, wandered the streets of Cannibal town, a mission in his mind. He tried to avoid Rosie ‘cause she’s a talker and would only make him late for where he needed to go after getting the thing he came to this lovely town for. He scoured the shops looking for the one thing that stood out to him last time he was here. It reminded him so much of Her. Of the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind. 

“Well, hello to our dear king! How are you on this hellish evening?” Lucifer growled lowly at the sound of that radio prick's voice. He turned to the red deer demon and pulled him down by his collar.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your theatrics today. I have places to be and things to get and I don’t need some lowlife sinner messing that up for me,” Lucifer let go of the demon’s coat and strided off to the jewelry shop he spotted out of the corner of his eye, waving behind to the overlord, “Hope you have a bad day!”

Later that evening, Lucifer turned up at his daughter’s hotel. He always came under the guise of seeing his daughter but everyone knew he came for one particular guest of his daughters. Knocking on the giant doors, he waited ‘till either his daughter or the deer prick opened up. 

The doors opened a few minutes later and Lucifer was greeted by, thankfully, his daughter’s voice, “Oh! Back again, dad? But I jus-”

“Charlie! You know I’m always here to see you! I just missed you so much that I couldn’t wait a few days!” Lucifer walked in and hugged his daughter. Vaggie stood off to the side, peering out the door for any dangers. 

Charlie gasped before smiling nervously and patted her dad’s back. She pulled away and held him by the shoulders. 

“Dad, you know I love when you visit. We all do! But uh- Everyone, especially Angel, has noticed that you only come here for a certain someone…” Charlie trailed off. Lucifer stood there silently and blinked slowly, almost frog-like.

“Ah…” He didn’t know what to say. Was he that obvious? The weight in his suit pocket seemed to weigh down on him immensely. He gripped the apple on his cane tightly. 

“Is she here?” Charlie smiled. She wanted her dad to be happy. After her mom had left them, her dad was in a slump. She checked up on him as much as she could but she could tell he wasn’t getting any better. After finding Y/N, a fallen angel just like her father, Charlie brought her with to her family home in hopes of them becoming friends. After that, Lucifer has been stopping by more than he used to. Charlie thought it was because they were good friends but after what Angel told the group last time…Charlie knew her father had fallen once again and this time harder than he fell for Lilith. 

“She’s here. Last I spoke with her, she was working on a secret project. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Lucifer looked about ready to bounce off the walls of the hotel lobby. 

“Well I’ll just uh- yeah…” Lucifer ran off towards the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He rocked on his heels as the lift made its way up to the top. He stuck his clawed left hand into his suit pocket and clutched the velvet box.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” Y/N’s voice was like smooth silk. It calmed Lucifer’s nerves down, the breath stuck in his throat was exhaled as he stepped foot into his…friend’s penthouse. He wouldn’t call her friend with the amount of times they’ve gotten intimate but, he didn’t know what else to call it. 

“Hello, darling. How is your night going?” Lucifer plopped a seat on the sofa in her living room. He watched as she rounded the island in her kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and wearing nothing but a white silk robe. 

“I’m doing wonderfully, Luci. What prompted the visit?” She folded her legs as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Lucifer cleared his throat and shifted his legs. The robe was a bit see-through which made her breasts very noticeable to him.

“Just wanted to see you…” Y/N smiled cheekily. She knew what she was doing to him. With the way she sat to what she was wearing, Lucifer couldn’t believe he had this much self-control to not jump on her.

“Is that all?” Lucifer gulped. He shifted in his seat once again and gazed away from Y/N’s intense stare. Her eyes darkened with lust as she continued to stare right at him. 

“What do you actually want, Luci?” She placed her mug down, sliding her bottom over and closer to her partner. She watched him cross his legs and grip the arm of the sofa.

“Come on, Luci. Tell me what you desire~” She ran a hand up his arm and over his chest. Lucifer watched with bated breath as she undid his bowtie and slipped the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Her fingers snuck under the shirt and touched all over his pale chest.

“Luciiii~” Lucifer felt the last thin thread snap at the tone of her voice. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch. He roughly kissed her and made sure to slide his forked tongue between her lips and into her mouth. He heard her moan and felt her hands run up his arms and into his hair. 

Lucifer pulled away with a dazed look in his red eyes. He was straddling her lap, his erection pushing painfully against his suit pants. 

“Need help with that?” Lucifer sat back as Y/N leaned over him, running her hands from his hair, down his semi-exposed chest, and to his tightened pants. She undid his black belt and slipped it from his pants. She popped the button on his pants and unzipped the zipper. 

“Please…” Lucifer whined. Y/N looked up at him and smirked. She made sure to go slow when she pulled his pants down his legs. Her knees hit the carpeted floor when his pants did. Her soft hands slid from his ankles and all the way up to his boxers elastic. 

“Be patient, Luci.”

“God, I’m addicted…” Lucifer mumbled. He was very addicted to her. To all the things she does to him both in and out of the sheets.

Y/N hummed and brought her mouth closer towards his erection. Her breath fanned across the dampened tip and she quickly tore through his duck-printed boxers. The shreds of fabric fell to the carpet. 

“Oh, Luci…” She licked a stripe up from his balls to tip. Lucifer moaned loudly and rushed to cover his mouth. Y/N laughed, pulling his hand from his mouth.

“You can be as loud as you want, my dear. No one can hear us.” With that, she took the tip of his dick into her hot mouth. Lucifer gripped the sofa, tearing streaks into it with his claws. His breathing became laboured as Y/N made work on his cock. She swirled her tongue around the tip, her hand coming up and wrapping around the base. She wanted to antagonise him. Make him want her.

“Oh my Lord, please! Please do something…” Lucifer could feel his patience run thin. Patience was definitely not one of his virtues, if he had any left. 

Y/N hummed. She removed her hand and placed both of them on his thighs, bracing herself, before taking him whole. 

“OH, Y/N/N! Plea~ah,” Lucifer moaned. He bucked his hips up into her mouth and down her throat. He wanted to feel guilty but he was so into the pleasure that she was giving him. Her nails dug into his thighs, her moans vibrated down his length which caused him to gag her once again. 

“I-I’m sorry! You just-hah-you just are so good,” Lucifer praised. She may have been an angel but by God was her mouth sinful. 

Ohh, girl, let’s take it slow

So as for you, well, you know where to go

I wanna take my love and hate you ‘til the end

It’s not like you to turn away

From all the bullshit I can’t take

It’s not like me to walk away

It’s been a few days since Lucifer has been intimate with his partner. His friends with benefits as he has learned from Angel Dust. He was scared. Every time they’ve gotten intimate, Lucifer was on the verge of telling her he loves her. It took all it had in him to not shout it when he came. 

“Oh, Rosie. I don’t know what to do!” Lucifer plonked his head on the table face first. His glass of whiskey shook at the action. 

Rosie, the one who made sure the cannibals in her town stayed in check, patted her king on his head. She smiled down at the fallen angel and watched as he mumbled to himself.

“Honey, if you don’t tell her how you feel, then how is she supposed to know you feel this way? What if someone else sweeps her off her feet? She is nothing like that ex of yours, ya know.” Lucifer grumbled. He knew she wasn’t like Lilith. Lilith was a cold-hearted bitch who cared about no one but herself. 

“I’m trying to take it slow.”

“Is having a one night stand and then becoming friends with benefits ‘taking it slow’?” Lucifer glared at the smiling cannibal. She was right and he knew it. He sighed and dug into his pocket. He brought out the velvet box and slid it over to his friend. 

“I wanted to give her this when I confessed… I don’t know if it’s too much…” Rosie gently took the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw what it was. 

“Lucifer! This is gorgeous! I’m sure she’ll love it, honey.” Lucifer felt his shoulders sag with relief. The piece in the velvet box was beautiful. It was a silver ring detailed with leaves. Deer antlers were what held the moss agate stone in the middle. He learned from Husk and Angel that she only wore silver jewellery and that her favourite stone was moss agate. It may not have been the most expensive but he wanted it to come from the heart and not from his wealth. 

“I know she will. I just…I hate how much I love her. It’s suffocating with her not knowing.” Lucifer was still scared. Scared that she’d walk away and leave everything they’ve built behind. Just like Lilith. He knew it wasn’t like Y/N to turn away. He knew because he’d attend some of those silly exercises his daughter hosted. 

“Tell her. Let her know and don’t bullshit your way outta this.” Rosie slid the ring back to Lucifer. She watched as he breathed in deeply, pocketed the box, and made his way to the door to her shop. 

“I won’t walk away from her. Not like I did to Lilith.” With that, Lucifer exited the shop and made his way to the hotel.

I’m so addicted to 

All the things you do 

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Yeah

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite king! How are you today, my dear?” Lucifer had arrived at Y/N’s place in seconds flat after leaving Rosies. He had spider lilies in one hand and a stuffed black cat in the other. Both being her favourite things she’s seen in Hell. 

“Good! I just wanted to have a chat with you. Hangout for a bit after all the paperwork I did this morning.” Lucifer watched her eyes light up at the sight of the flowers and stuffie. She grabbed them from his hands and raced to get the flowers in some water. She placed the stuffed cat on her loveseat near her bookshelf. 

Lucifer stepped out of the lift and slowly walked towards the kitchen of her penthouse. Y/N was humming as she cut the bottoms of the flowers and placed them in the black vase. Her fingers were nimble and held the flowers delicately to ensure they didn't get damaged. 

“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” Lucifer took a seat at the island, snatching an apple from the basket of fruit in the centre. 

“Nothing important… uhm, how was your day?” Lucifer was nervous. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t drop the L-bomb on her. She was too important to him to lose. 

“It was amazing! Your daughter is such a sweetie! She’s helped me adjust to life in Hell wonderfully. I wish I could pay her back somehow…” Lucifer looked at the angel. This angel was of pure heart and faith. He knew Y/N was still struggling with being in Hell. He knew because he could see the way she hid behind his daughter when they went out or when she would quote from the bible only to grow embarrassed when the others looked at her in confusion. 

“She is a sweetie, isn’t she? I’m glad you’re adjusting to Hell. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while you’re here.” Lucifer bit into the apple. Y/N watched as the juice dripped from his chin. She licked her lips, walking towards the island and having a seat on the stool near Lucifer. 

Lucifer continued to munch on the apple, not noticing Y/N’s hand creeping towards his thigh. When she made contact, Lucifer jumped and choked on a bit of the sweet fruit. 

“Surely you didn’t come here just to talk.” Lucifer felt flushed. He cleared his throat and set the apple core down. 

“I promise it was only just to talk. I know I said it was nothing important but-”

“Shh, Luci. I can see how tense your shoulders are. Why don’t I-”

Lucifer stood up abruptly causing Y/N’s hand to fall from his lap. He stepped back and sucked in a breath. He reached into his pocket and produced the black velvet box for Y/N to see. He could see the confusion in her eyes. 

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much that the thought of you not knowing was suffocating me. I know it only started out as us being friends and delving into a one night stand that then turned us into friends with benefits. After a while, it wasn’t just the sex for me. I wanted all of you. Heart, body, mind, and soul. I wanted to feel what it was like for you to love me for me and not for my body. I hope this doesn’t scare you off but I wanted you to know how I feel about you.” Lucifer finished up and placed the small box in front of her. He was sweating profusely and his hands gripped the apple on his cane tightly. He watched as Y/N lifted the box up gently and opened it. Her eyes glittered and he swore he saw tears in her eyes.

“Luci…” Her breath was airy. Like he took her breath away.

“Luci, thank you. No one has done this much for me since I’ve been created. You don’t have to be scared ‘cause I love you just as much.” Lucifer could cry. She felt the same! He smiled brightly and bounded up to the tall angel and hugged her tightly. 

“Oh my Hell! I could bounce off these walls in happiness! Oh, I love you so much, my angel!” Lucifer could feel the vibrations of her laugh. She hugged him back just as tightly, the ring he gave her glittering on her right hand. 

“Thank you for accepting me, Y/N/N,” Lucifer mumbled into her breasts. He felt her fingers run through his golden locks as she hummed.

“No need to thank me, honey. I love you so very much.”

…

“Let’s head to the bedroom. I need to get this energy out~”

And I know when it’s getting rough

All the times we spend

Trying to make this love something better than

Just making up again

It’s not like you to turn away

All the bullshit I can’t take

Just when I think I can walk away

They’ve only had a few fights but they were only about Lucifer's work. He was the king and every time he went to sign off on a meeting paper to say he wouldn’t be able to make it, Y/N scolded him and told him he needed to go or the residents of the seven rings of hell won’t take him seriously anymore. 

She was right. Every time they went out on a date, Lucifer could hear the whispers and snickering. He was gone for years when Lilith left and everyone had assumed that he was gone. Now that he’s back and appearing more in the public eye, the sinners in Pride casted snide remarks his way. 

“Honey, a letter just came in from Ozzie. Have you always had a family dinner every month with the seven sins and Charlie?” Lucifer paled at the mention of the dinner. He hasn’t been to one since Lilith left him. Charlie had tried to get him to go a couple times only for him to turn her down and go back to wallowing in his sadness. 

“Uh- yes… yes we do. Ozzie was the one that actually wanted it to happen.” Lucifer bounced his knee nervously. Y/N hummed and made his way into the study and up to his desk. She set down the letter and looked down at him.

“How about we go? Ozzie seems to want to meet me and to introduce us to that little imp of his. This’ll be good for you! We can see family and maybe we could invite the residents of the hotel? Have the sins come from their rings and hang out in Pride?” Y/N has been encouraging him to get back into contact with his family since they’ve gotten together. Seemed she was very family oriented. I mean, she had always had him finish inside her whenever they were intimate. He had a sense that she wanted kids but she hasn’t said anything to him yet. 

“Fine. How about you write the letter back to Ozzie. Have him send out a message to the others that we’ll be having the dinner at our place. I’ll fly over to the hotel and inform Charlie.” Y/N squeaked and pulled a blank paper from her lover’s pile of papers on the desk. She produced a quill with the snap of her fingers and wrote out the letter. Lucifer was happy that she was excited to meet his family. Every time they had the petty arguments about his work and paperwork, she would ignore him ‘til she got too horny and then seduced him into bed. He didn’t want this love to be about fighting and making up with sex. He wanted it to be more than that,

“I told him that we’ll have the dinner this Friday! Make sure you mention to Charlie that I invited everyone from the hotel to be there!” Lucifer smiled as she leaned down to kiss his rosy cheek. She bounced off to who-knows-where while Lucifer sat back in his desk chair and sighed. He had to talk to her. 

I’m so addicted to 

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to

The things you do

When you’re going down on me

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Yeah

When you’re loving me

“Oh fuck! Lucifer, right there!” The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and ragged breathing. Lucifer was pounding mercilessly into his lover’s pussy. He watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his dick hit just the right spot inside her. Her moans echoed off the walls, her hands clenching the silk sheets beneath her. 

“Come on, baby. You have one more in you, don’t ya?” Lucifer groaned out into her ear. His stomach tightened when he felt her clench at his words. He smirked and brought a clawed hand to her pussy. His pointer and middle finger rubbing circles on her clit. She moaned loudly at the contact before she started to shake as her orgasm crashed through her. Juices squirted from her dripping pussy and coated his lower abdomen and thighs. 

“Oh fucking hell…” Lucifer moaned. His dick throbbed and he finally came into her clenching hole. His seed spilled out while he was still in her and when he pulled out he made sure to take his fingers, scoop up the mess, and push it back into her. Y/N moaned and tried to push his hand away only for him to grab it and shush her.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanna make sure it takes…” Lucifer held still inside of her and when she calmed her breathing down, he made ‘come hither’ motions. She squeaked out and tried to squirm away only for Lucifer to pin her down. 

“One more. One more time, sweetheart. I need to make sure it takes,” Lucifer whispered. He leaned up and over her, pulling his fingers from her pussy and replacing it with his hardened dick. He saw her eyes tear up from overstimulation. He kissed her lips, holding onto her hips and slowly drove his hips into hers. 

“That’s it, sweetie. You can take it. I got you.” Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he began to pick up his pace. His grip tightened on her hips when her pussy clenched around him. He moaned out, dropping his head onto her breasts. 

“I’m c-close, Luci! Please!” Lucifer thrusted his hips faster, making sure to hit the spot that made her see stars. Her eyes clenched shut and her hips moved to meet his hips. Her moans grew louder as her orgasm grew closer. 

“Oh, Hell…” Lucifer almost whined when Y/N tightened around his length, her moans loud as she shuddered. Her orgasm hit her full force, her pussy squirting out juices once again. Lucifer sped up until he finally released another load into her abused hole. 

“I want you to be a mama. Charlie already loves you, why not have another?” Lucifer mumbled. He dropped down on top of her, his dick still in her to keep his load inside to make sure it takes. 

Y/N ran her fingers through his messy hair and smiled down at him. He was such a softie for kids. Whenever they would visit the other rings, Y/N made sure they at least went to the circuses that were held that day to support the kids. 

“I love you, Luci.” 

Lucifer snuggled into her more and murmured out tiredly, “I love you most.”

How can I make it through

All the things you do

There’s just gotta be more to you and me

I’m so addicted to 

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to you

Addicted to you

WOOOO SECOND LUCI FIC!!! Hope I did him justice:')

Enjoy!!

And check out the new poll!

Upcoming fics!

[parentsbesluts]

after a full month theyre finally done . these designs took a lot out of me to make but i really like how they all turned out. more design info for each under the cut

patton: black cis man, he/him, 6'0 (the tallest except for remus*). 4b hair. he has patches of skin that developed into frog skin following the events of svsr. its functionally similar to vitiligo, as it was caused by the high amounts of stress patton went through, but not the same. his shirt was a gift from janus that was suggested by remus. he has chronic back pain (not a part of the design but this is important to know). he wears the bff bracelet that roman made for him when they were young. he has stretch marks around his shoulders and chest.

roman: italian + latina bigender woman, she/he/star, 5'10. he dyes her own hair often but favors stars natural color with streaks of blond. her sword is longer than that when star actually uses it. i fucked up the proportions when drawing it and didn't have the strength to fix it. she had an entire royal cape but he opts not to wear it in most situations. similarly he owns a lot more jewelry than just the stuff stars wearing in the picture but its often not practical. her bff bracelet is in a drawer in his room right now.

logan: indigenous (specifically mayan) agender person, they/xe, 5'6 (the shortest except for remus*). xyr hair has gone gray from stress despite attempts to fix it, so they have accepted their fate and moved on. xe has a nose ring because virgil is a terrible influence on them. the heart on their cheek marks the first spot that virgil ever kissed xem. xe's been carrying around that orange book a lot recently for some reason. xe has stretch marks around their chest, shoulders, armpit, and hips.

virgil: irish (she makes their skin gray just because) genderfluid person, she/he/they, 5'8 ½. he took up smoking (though they prefer weed over cigs) to try and reduce her and thomas's anxiety. it's seemingly working but now their room smells like weed. her rat tails are 100% real. after accepting anxiety she cut off their jacket sleeves and jean shins to show off more of his body. we love body positivity. the scar on his face is remus's fault. they have many anxiety reducing habits such as can tab collecting and biting her nails. enrichment. the heart on his neck marks the first spot that logan ever kissed her. he changes hair color in accordance with shirt. she has stretch marks around their hip and armpits.

janus: french + spanish trans male, he/hiss/venom, 5'8. the cane is not optional. despite having the fashion sense of an upper class victorian man hi is actively socialist. ve claims he's "reclaiming the style". the tree patterns on hisses overcoat and gloves have absolutely no symbolism related to them whatsoever. the eye he wears around venoms neck is made from serpentine. the ring pattern on hisses gloves is solely because its hard to put rings on over gloves, even though it doesnt matter at all and ve could simply summon rings on hisses fingers if he wanted to. the snake pattern around venoms coat is not sentient.

remus: italian + latino unlabled person, he/it/that thing, height is incredibly unstable but averages to around 5'10 most days. it can see out of the eyes on his earrings and right sleeve. the spikes on that things clothing are indeed real teeth. it misses his friends. it wears some sort of weird lingerie under his uniform. that thing ended up getting the uncontrollable hair genes and it dyes its hair in shrimp colors. he wants to dye its hair with virgil again. the chain can be stored inside of the mace handle, allowing the mace to be used as a morningstar. the preportions on it are also bad sorry. that things shoes are sentient and want to kill you. it wishes janus wasn't so busy. he doesn't want to be alone.

[crypt-void]

A list of my nonhuman/regression gear but it slowly turns less and less stereotypical:

1. My masks and tails. I love making masks and currently have 2 that I kept for myself. I also have a crow one I bought. I have 3 tails; wolf, coyote, and raccoon. Most I got from a renfaire I work at sometimes but I got the raccoon one from my partner because she's the best :3

2. Collars. Nuff said. Very dog. Very good.

3. Paw gloves and fingerless gloves :p

4. Chewtoys. I like biting stuff.

5. Stuffies. Specifically my raccoon and frog ones. All my stingray ones, too.

6. Small paw print blanket. Very soft. Good thing to just hold. Also my big knitted blanket. Good texture

7. My journal. Nice leather journal, my brother got me that I just fill with random thoughts and recipes. Helps me feel more creaturey.

8. Trinket shelf. I love trinkets and cool rocks. I also got a lot of bones.

9. Sticks. I have sticks everywhere from walks.

10. Paper crown and flower crown. Feels creaturey.

11. Compass necklace. There's a lot of misc. jewelry I consider gear but this one stands out.

12. My converse. All my converse. They feel like paws. I will only ever wear converse or my docs. My main 3 shoes are my glow in the dark bug converse, black converse with doodles all on em, and my brown converse specifically decorated with therian stuff.

13. My jacket and shirts. My green jacket is hgh. Me. It's me. I love that jacket. My color is green and it makes me feel like I'm me again. Its very soft too. Also, a shirt my girlfriend made me that has cut off sleeves and a bleached ribcage design that's really cool. Also have two sweaters that are very crittery and my Gorillaz shirt with their first album cover on it.

14. Anything minecraft related. I have a lot of minecraft stuff. One because I really like to play the game but also cuz it's home and I miss it.

Anyways, gear can be whatever. Have fun. (Also please talk to me about your gear that other people wouldn't really consider gear I love hearing about it.)

[willowser]

okay haven't stopped thinking about this since the self-ship game but. on-again-off-again with touya is so heart-breaking.

he's always had his own shitty one-bedroom, but he stayed with you more often than not. claimed it was because you were closer to his job at the bar, but the drive is similar if not a smidge closer. you don't personally think it's worth it, but he does. or did, once.

you're looking at the two boxes of his things that are sitting by the door: a near-drawer full of clothes, bags of random jewelry, two pairs of his shoes, the dish towels he keeps "accidentally" stealing from work, as well as a few of their nicer glasses. photos you don't want to look at. even his shampoo and body-wash is packed away, because you can't stand to smell it anymore.

that's when your phone rings.

it's much too late for you to be awake, but you are, and the number coming across your screen isn't necessarily touya's but it is the number for the bar, so you hesitate in answering. watching and waiting, as it rings in your hand, before deciding to indulge in whatever heart-break he's got ready for you tonight.

—but it's keigo: "hey, i need you to come pick up touya."

you frown at that, and then deeper at the noise in the background. "what? where's his car?"

"he—" a heavy sigh scratches over the line, and his voice is strained, like he's struggling to hold something heavy in his arms. he's always been very friendly, charming; you've never heard him so stressed. "he can't drive. i just need you to come get him."

worry is a weighted stone in your stomach. "what do you mean he can't drive?"

touya's been sober for 16 months, something he's admittedly been very proud of. his longest stint yet, he'll tell you, and he's gone through hell not to break the streak. no matter how hard it was, no matter how tempting giving in sounded. he's turned back into his addictions in the past when you two have split, but you had faith in him this time. you really, really did.

"he just can't, alright? please?"

of course you go. and when you pull up in the parking lot, they're both standing outside, keigo with a half-empty bottle of water in his hands and a frown marring his pretty face. touya's back is to you, and he would almost look normal, if not for the swaying. you don't realize how bad it is until takami is throwing touya's arm over his shoulder and near dragging him across the pavement.

you only watch on, heart heavy, as he's shuffled into your car like a child, mumbling to himself as keigo buckles his searbelt. the car is immediately flooded with the sharp, bitter smell of alcohol and too many cigarettes, and you knew what the truth was, you knew, but you'd hoped for another answer, some bullshit excuse as to why he couldn't drive.

the reality burns; behind your eyes, deep in your nose, the back of your throat.

"call me tomorrow," keigo tells him, too-serious. "and we can figure out your car and stuff." he huffs at the ghost of a smile on touya's pale face, before looking across the seats to you. "i'm sorry, i really am, but his sister would fucking flip if i called her."

"no," touya mumbles again, voice scratchy like he's been yelling. "why the fuck would you call my sister, you perv?"

keigo only shakes his head before sighing again, and then he's leaning back and closing the car door without another word. you've never seen him so—annoyed; you can only imagine what touya's been up to tonight, to make him so.

alone, neither of you say anything, for a while. that haunting smile is still playing on his lips, as his head lolls back and forth with every speed bump you crawl over, and occasionally you can feel him watching you from across the console.

there are—one-thousand and one things you could say, but he wouldn't remember a single one. and so you don't bother.

he does, though, eventually, grin blooming in full. "know you fuckin' miss me."

you shake your head in an attempt to get rid of the tears, swallowing the frog sitting in your throat. he won't remember this. he won't. "of course i miss you, touya."

he laughs once, a small, airy sound, before he's turning to look out the window. your honesty has always caught him off guard. "yeah," he murmurs, smile drooping as reality burns him, in return. "miss you, too."

[moonlit-escape]

★彡 ˙🌱. ¡! Vylad Mystreet headcanons !!

the second character i fell in love with. how cruel it is that he has fuck all going for him. I'll fix that.

pansexual (actually this one is just canon) (cole petty ily)

will try anything once

will put anything in his mouth

can sleep literally anywhere

i think this man might be the most laid-back, flexible person on the planet.

except towards geese because fuck those things

any time he has slept in a park he has made sure there were no geese around because those fuckers have stolen his stuff before and made him watch as they drowned it

listens to the most underground shit you've never heard and it all slaps (i didnt add this kind of stuff to his playlist though bc i wanted it to. make sense.)

also just listens to underrated music in general (includes just underrated songs from super popular bands)

currently holds an award for being the "funniest man on mystreet" and he didn't even have residency there

kind of has random visions about his friends in his sleep, but he just thinks they're normal dreams and that he misses his friends a lot (oh little does he know.)

used to say the most cryptic shit as a kid and freak his brothers out

being friends with vylad as a kid mustve been the weirdest experience. the kid eats glue, dirt, and moss, befriends frogs, crows, and moths, tells you you've suffered immense turmoil in a past life completely sincerely, and then infodumps about the entire history and process of typewriters for some fuckin reason

im 100% sure all three of the boys have autism and they got it from zianna

while he doesn't really want to connect himself to the ro'meave name (mainly bc of garte), he does love his family to death and sends his mom and brothers post cards every once in a while (when he remembers, mostly)

doesn't really reach out to his family any other way and neither do they. which he understands; communication is a two-way street

knows how to fish with nothing but a shoestring and a good fuckin stick

Loves pickin up good fuckin sticks

also cool rocks

he collects cool rocks from all the places he visits and keeps them in an old jewelry box. he keeps special ones he plans on giving to his friends in the top part of it

always making friends with stray dogs, cats, rats, raccoons, and opossums. someone stop him

has a johnny stein hotel transylvania relationship with his backpack (it literally has everything he owns in it)

knows how to fix and alter clothes

he knows how to do a lotta shit, alright. i don't think you'll find a craftier little guy than vylad ro'meave

except when it comes to fixing a water heater or anything to do with pipes or electrical tbh he hasn't lived in a house in a While

i'm obsessed w the idea that zane had spent so much time and effort trying to get gene to notice him meanwhile vylad enters gene's peripherals for 2.5 seconds and gene's like I Want Him. poor vylad can't get on zane's better side for shit

owns a few skirts and dresses and high-heeled boots because he can wear whatever he wants

goes to ren faires whenever he can honestly. sometimes as a job!

when his hair gets too long he ties it back into a low ponytail or pigtails until he can get it cut again

wears weird and funky socks

he absolutely has a roblox account

[tuliptired]

He's Good People Ch.3

Chapter 3: I Didn't Mean to Take Up all your Sweet Time (I'll Give it Right Back to Ya, One of These Days)

Pairing(s): Gn!reader/Ray, Gn!reader/Egon, Gn!reader/Winston

Summary: (Winston centric, briefly Egon centric) To get out the firehouse, you 're invited for a day out on the town with the "common man" of the Ghostbusters, and he won't stop opening doors for you

Warnings: Reader wears masc presenting clothes for like one paragraph

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE :((( hope a longer update makes up for it!

read it on Ao3!

  It was fairly late into the night. You felt weird about going to bed while none of the others had returned, like you were overstepping. You were content with being curled up in a chair as Egon annotated a book in the dimly lit lab. He had offered you one of the many works from his personal collection, but the words started to lose their meaning after the first handful of pages. Maybe he ought to read it to you, instead. You set the book aside, much more interested in watching him. He had his sleeves rolled up again, fairly unnecessary because he was only working with paper and pencil.

He discarded his work for the second time that day, looking over at you. The need for sleep was creeping up on him, as his eyelids sat low and his gaze remained soft. 

"I´m sorry for boring you."

"I´m not bored. Are you tired? You don't have to stay up with me."

He put the pencil back into a mug full of others. He rose from the workbench, opening the book to a heavily noted page. Crossing over to where you were sitting, Egon joined you, holding it open for you to see. There were large, square photos of terrifying looking sculptures. Upon further inspection, they were really just recreations of exotic animals. A boa constrictor, an alligator, a giant salamander, a…platypus. Behind each of them stood a Victorian era man, beaming with self-worth at the spectacles surrounding him.

“See him?” He pointed to the man. “That’s Benjamin Fairhooke. He had a penchant for imported animals. And too much money. So much so he had the theater near your building constructed to show them off.”  He turned the page to a large spread of the theater in the late 1800’s, advertising an oddity show.

“They started showing plays and operas soon enough. But everyone knew how passionate he was. Piranhas-in-the-bar sink, frogs-on-the-staircases-passionate.” There was a photo of Fairhooke next to a woman. Despite her exquisite clothing, elegant features, and extravagant jewelry, she had a fairly sour expression, while he still beamed at the camera, an iguana in his lap.  

“That was his wife, Claira. Their marriage was falling apart while ticket sales peaked. They held their son’s wedding reception in the lobby of the theater.” He had a grainy photo bookmarked. There was a newlywed couple, normal. Claira’s in the background, though. Not happy her son was just married, but instead staring down the barrel of the camera like it was a gun.

“She had just found Benjamin in a parlor, tending to a snapping turtle. She got so mad, she took the shovel from the fireplace and managed to decapitate him in 10 minutes.” Holy shit.

He could feel your shock. “I know. She left him there for the rest of the night. They searched for weeks, until they found his body. She told them everything- just not what became of his head. His animals went missing, and his kids wanted nothing to do with the theater. Local legend says that the souls of his then neglected animals are still searching for Claira. Anywhere she could be. But it fell into obscurity. Everyone who believed in it died at the turn of the century.” He shut the book.

“So. The ghosts of a bunch of critters are running around my block, looking for his murderer? And one ended up in my washing machine?” 

“Essentially. I’ve wanted to investigate since I heard the story, but it was always word of mouth. I only just found it buried in an anthology of neighborhood ghost stories in Ray’s store.” He sighed, getting up and placing the book back into its place on his shelf. “He was pretty excited about my findings. He always is. But he’s been dragging his feet about it.” Egon looked worried, if not at least a bit frustrated, as he took a seat back next to you, knees touching unintentionally. You could understand, this was his longtime friend, after all. This all seemed very perplexing to him.

“Maybe he’s just scared? Of what he’ll find?” The words really don’t serve much purpose other than to soothe his nerves- they don’t convince you, even as they fall from your lips. Ray was a discerning and generally happy man, but he was still brave. He wouldn’t be a paranormal expert, a Ghostbuster if he was scared of what he loved.

You could tell his fears were still there. You placed a hand on his, silently grateful as you felt that they were still the same hands you held earlier.

“I promise, the moment I can get back into my apartment I’m gonna look for the key.”

There was the predecessor to a smile, before he had a look that read as accepting defeat. “I apologize for you being stuck with us so long. Only a day more.” Before you could protest, tell him that you’re having a wonderful time and you’re sorry for being in their hair, you heard cursing downstairs, followed by heavy steps approaching, making you jump.

Ray and Winston joined you upstairs, covered in thick, oozing slime of some sort. Winston held a smoking machine like the one Ray had after cleansing your house, only this time a bit more scratched up.

“It wasn’t a mannequin at all. God-damned-ghost-komodo-dragon on its hind legs. Sprayed us bad- we hosed ourselves off 6 times on the way home.” Winston tried wiping the slime moving from his glove to his wrist off on his pant leg, only making the viscous substance spread more.

Ray didn’t look angry, but he wasn’t bouncing off the walls. “This is big. Y’know that old theater-”

“I already explained it.”

“You’re kidding.”

‘’No. I explained Fairhooke, Claira, the ghosts. All of it.”

Winston could feel the start of a petty back and forth, so he discreetly asked you to follow him. He laughed and shook his head as he went down the steps to the very bottom of the firehouse. You had seen this room when Ray brought you down for pajamas, and you recognized the door he had peeked into, but not what was on the wall. A large, red electrical looking panel stared back at you.

“Ray taught me how to do this when I was new here.” He went through the motions of showing you how they used it to hold ghosts. You were glad he took the extra step and explained what it really did under the surface, because lord knows you were puzzled.

“He even made a rhyme. ‘When the light is green, the trap is clean’”.

“Does this make me part of your team now?” You complain, purely jokingly.

“You don’t wanna be? I wouldn’t mind.” You had to hand it to him, he had a charming way of disarming you. He didn't give you time to respond, as he made his way to the laundry area. He came back with new pajamas, softer looking ones.

“I hope these are a little more personable.” He handed you a light purple t-shirt, and dark purple sweatpants. There was thought behind these, definitely not something they had laying around in the hamper. 

You smile at the consideration. “Thank you.” He returned it, very white teeth and all. He gave you privacy to change, and was peeling his suit off upon your return. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, the mire of today´s job trying to stick to his skin. He finally got the soiled jumpsuit off, and it stuck to the floor like a glue trap. As he stuffed it into the industrial washer, another one tumbled out a laundry chute and onto a pile of dirty, but not slimy, clothes. He sighed, carefully picking up the soiled suit and garments and placing them in, too.

“What is it, anyway?” You watched on as he poured a cocktail of different, unmarked liquids, which you assumed were non FDA approved cleaners for these kinds of unconventional stains.

He pressed the washing machine closed, turning a few knobs and pressing a few buttons. “Ectoplasm. As graceful as it sounds.” You follow him, as he makes his way back up the steps.

“Like sticky skunk spray.” He stops in front of the sleeping quarters, and it gives you a moment to wonder why exactly you were still following him. As you start to mull over it further, he places his pointer finger over his lips.

“We oughta get out of here tomorrow. Ray’s gone to bed without dinner. Bad sign. It’s not pretty when he and the professor get into it.” He explains, voice hushed.

“Are they okay?”

“They will be. Ray stresses for a day, but he always apologizes, ‘cause he’s scared to lose his friend.” Winston smiles familiarly, thinking of the men he’s grown to know well over the past 5 years since his initial hiring. You can’t stop the spread of warmth under your skin as you think, too.

“Kindred spirits. I hate to see them both so worked up.”

“They can’t help it. They’ve got a new distraction running around.” 

You don’t have time to process it, again, before he’s halfway back down the steps to the first floor. You lean over the railing, just as he passes Janine’s desk.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t stop walking, until he reaches the exit. “I promised my mom I’d stay over. Be up early tomorrow, ok? I’ll take you on a joyride.”

“Goodnight,” you wave, as he gives you a two finger salute, letting the door shut behind him.

You can’t really sleep- you don’t want to, anyway. Egon’s still upstairs, Peter’s with Dana, and Ray’s in bed by himself. As tempting as it is to go up there and console him, you really don’t want to come off as pushy. So, you had an apron tied over your front, sleeves rolled up and gloves on as you worked to scrub the slime out of blanched fabric. What a night.

The stickiness was seldom coming off, but you noticed progress. It would bubble and sud with the soap, but it was nothing a frequent rinse didn’t get rid of. The only problem was that it was thick, and it sat deep in the absorbent material. You lost track of the hours you spent, going down the line; Soaking, scrubbing, rinsing, scrubbing, rinsing, soaking- over and over. The need for sleep left you, as this housekeeping mystery kept you unwilling to give up until it was completed.

There was a click of the heavy door, and your thoughts of finishing the task as you feverishly scraped a suit against a large washboard suddenly ceased. Winston stood at the door, dressed and holding 2 cups of coffee-shop-coffee.

“Good morning,” his face was both impressed and fearful. You figured this was enough, as most of the slime sat mixed with now greenish water in the large sink. You carefully transferred it to the dryer with the others, and peeled your gloves off.

“Goodmorning,” you wiped some soap off your cheek with your wrist.

He handed you a cup. “You think you deserve a shower after all that?” You walked out the laundry with him, the warm liquid having the opposite of its desired effect as it made you the slightest bit sleepy. 

Your shower was quick and to the point. In the few days you’ve been there, your towel has had a permanent residence on a hook by the door, a fair distance from the other 4. You figured this would have to be your second day in the blue sweater, but you didn’t mind all that much. You managed to wash it as well the night prior, so it was dried and fluffed as it waited for you.

Winston ran into you on your way out the bathroom, something dark in his hands. He unfolded it, and stepped behind you to put it on your shoulders.

“What’s this?” You whipped your head around to watch his movements. 

“Had to pick this up from my mom’s, too.”

It was a dark purple jacket, the sleeves needing to be cuffed by him in order for your hands to appear. You could see a wide, black stripe wrap around the back and little pinstripes around the collar. You knew Winston was a more eccentric dresser than his coworkers, the brightly colored laundry telling you so, but to take something so nice from his mom?

“I can’t take this, She doesn’t even know me.”

“It’s mine. And it’s going to a good cause.” He drops your wrist. Taking a step back, he examines his work with a hand on his chin, an unsatisfied look on his face. He figures out what’s wrong, as he grabs the zipper from the bottom and pulls it up, the blue of the sweater underneath now hidden. There’s a pleased smile on his face as he takes another step back, before starting down the stairs.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the car,” and he disappeared.

While you were excited to get out again, to have some sort of normalcy for a day, but the urge to check the kitchen overtakes your legs. Your heart feared for the worst, you peek across the threshold, and you could’ve died then.

Egon was at the little table, pancakes, eggs, and coffee on two plates in front of him. The thing was, yours was untouched. He sat there, hands in his lap, face unreadable, until he noticed your presence. He didn’t light up, his features didn’t change, but you could’ve sworn there was a slight, upward twitch of the inner corners of his eyebrows. You felt a sort of nausea wash over you, that settled in your chest as you thought of what to say.

Walking towards him felt condescending, as if you were increasing the parameters of whatever obviously negative emotion he was feeling, but it was the proper thing to do. You folded your hands in front of you, unthreatening. Benevolent. He looked at you through his eyelashes, like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry. That I wasn’t around this morning.” To anyone else, this would seem melodramatic. A meal skipped out on between 2 people who have known each other for 2 days. But the way there was a flash of forgiveness, that you saw so often in the downcast faces of those young men and women around a coffee pot, weeks after their indulgence of passion. One of them did something. And the other so desperately wanted things to be okay again. They’d be engaged. You saw it on the faces of teenage actors, as their parents commented on a poor performance, before bringing them ice cream. It was the small injustices, from the people that you loved.

He opened his mouth to speak, before a honk from the garage cut him off. Winston was calling you, the unfortunate timing making you cringe.

“I’m sorry, again. I won’t be gone long.” He didn’t respond as you retreated to the door.

You reluctantly disappeared out the room, before appearing one more time.

“I’ll make it up to you.” 

You take your leave down the stairs, the garage door open as the Ecto-1a runs idly. Winston leaned over, opening the passenger door for you. Settling in with a huff, he turned to you as you pulled your seatbelt on.

 “Ready?” When you nod, he pulls the car out the garage, and onto the street. After a few minutes of driving from the firehouse, he reaches for the glove compartment, his hand emerging with a cassette in a purple case. 

“Hope you don’t mind Mj,” he grins as he slides it into the car’s slot. The singer’s voice fills the car, and he eventually joins in. He has an amazing singing voice, honestly, and you’re too compelled to take pleasure in his gaiety as he drives.

“The Jackson 5: Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, and Winston,” you tease him. The city’s awake with you, as children took their lessons on the blacktop of the school’s playground, and grandmother’s bought fruit placed in their foldable carts. A handful of dogs howl as your highly decorated car passes by. 

“I could never take Michaels place,” Winston crosses his heart, the cassette starting to play a Stevie Wonder song. He nodded his head along to the beginning of “Signed, Sealed, Delivered”. 

He enjoyed himself for the whole song, even roping you into joining in. Eventually, he turns the volume down a few notches.

“What music do you like?” He questioned, nodding in acknowledgment as you listed off your current favorites. As he waited at a red light, he skipped a few songs, claiming that you’d like this one more after the inventory you gave him.

You take another look around, as the setting gets more and more unfamiliar to you. “Where’re we going, anyway?” You tilt your head.

“Right now, I’m thinking the music store. But I have other ideas, too.” He pulls up to the curb of an aptly named record shop, shutting off the engine and opening your door from the outside before you could protest. The inside was fairly simple, musical equipment sitting on shelves behind a desk, records stretching around the perimeters of the room, and cassette tapes in the square middle.

The layout intrigues you, as your brain pings at recognizable albums. You shy away from Winston, flipping through a few records in your favorite genre. He reappears at your side, a small box of blank tapes in his hands.

“Are you recording something?” You continue to browse. He shakes his head.

“You’re gonna need your own tape to play in the car. We all have one.” He peers over your shoulder casually, taking in music he’s never heard of. You shake your head apologetically, fearing the effort it’ll take. He picks up an album you’d been eyeing.

He turned to look at you, eyes earnest and eyebrows slightly raised. “Make space for yourself.” Simple words. He wasn’t asking a lot from you. But he was speaking to you- I want you to survive. I want you to live. 

You have nothing to do but nod your head, no point in protest. He has a pleased smile, and examines the album a little more before putting it down. Something else catches his eye, and he brightens, mouth open in awe. There’s a full stack of reddish yellow squares, and he spins around to show you, eyes twinkling like a little kid.

“Tommy! I thought you didn’t carry Hendrix!” He chides the man excitedly, flipping the album around. You stand behind him to read the song list as well. Tommy merely shrugs.

“Best guitarist since Berry,” he proclaims to you. “Absolutely insane sound.” He had such a look of delight on his face. It was different from Ray’s- it wasn’t analytical, he probably didn’t know everything he could’ve about what he loved, but that only made him love it more. Winston’s joy was simple, but it wasn’t unimportant. As he talked on about the man he looked up to, his soft eyes crinkled, a wide smile meeting them. 

“I wasn’t allowed to play him.” He pulled out his wallet, paying for not only his newfound treasure, but the empty cassettes and your own personal favorite. “Not when I was at home, or when I was deployed.” Tommy handed him the items in a plastic bag. “But I paid my neighbor a nickel to let me when our parents weren’t home. I lost a lot of commissary that way, when I got older.” His story had a boyish tone to it, as he held the door open for you. He wouldn’t stop opening doors for you, insisting on it as you got in the car.

“Are you hungry?” His question makes you recall the other companion you’d forgotten at the firehouse, your heart filling with cement. You agree to lunch, knowing he really wouldn’t let you refuse.

Your next destination is a little restaurant, the area busier as midday approaches and working class America is looking for something to eat. When you enter (and he holds the door), there’s a teenaged boy behind the counter, packing orders and taking cash. The interior is smaller than you assumed, as the floor is taken up by the buffet-style kitchen behind the spot to order, and a  few tables and chairs. It smells amazing, though, and the menu looks even better. Winston watches you pridefully as you marvel over what to get, before his voice breaks you out of your stupor.

“Know what you want?”

“I can’t decide. It all sounds great,” you confess, the idea of choosing making your head hurt.

Winston chuckles at your response, guiding you to a little table and making you wait there as he chooses for the both of you. After letting some highschoolers get in front of him so they could get back to school before the hour ended, you see that he’s an exceptional conversationalist, becoming instantly acquainted with the people in line with him. He asks them about their day, listens intently, and when asked about his own he gladly replies with “day out with a friend,” pointing to you. You give a bashful wave to him and his newfound comrades.

He speaks familiarly to the kid at the register, counting things off his fingers, and even slipping him a bill that was definitely not a part of his total. He soon has two styrofoam containers in his hands, steam rising out the slight openings. He opens yours for you, the water vapor and aroma hitting you like a punch. There’s greens, mac and cheese, and fried fish staring you down as your eyes widen. While you were stuck in your hypnosis, he reached over, cutting your food for you.

It was like you died and went to heaven, before being sent back to finish your plate. You almost absentmindedly held onto the table to keep you tethered to the Earth. 

“You guys have kept me fed all weekend,” you say between rushed bites. It’s true- this is the best you’d eaten in a while. You swallow. “I can’t remember the last time I was able to stop and make actual food.”

“Egon treats you to breakfast, I treat you to lunch.” He raises his hands in a shrug. “Good?”

“Amazing,” you chew. “You seem to know this place well,” you suggested.

“I take lunch here everyday,” he wipes his mouth on a napkin.

“I can see why. Is it a favorite?”

“No, my favorite is the Jamaican lady down the corner.”

You raise an eyebrow, setting your fork down as he blissfully kept eating. “But…you know everyone here, they know you, you come here every day.”

He blinks. His tone is slightly quieted. “I know. But the owner’s trying to put his daughter through college. Any penny I can give to him counts.” He talks as if the act of selflessness was the simplest thing in the world. It amazed you, how easily kindness and servitude came to him. In your short time with him, he was nothing but humble and friendly with everyone he interacted with. The small smile that spread on your face was one of admiration, and genuine mystique at the kindly man across from you.

You chatted for a bit longer, about growing up, your families, before you were both finished. He tossed your trash, and bid the teen at the register goodbye before walking you back to the Ecto. Once inside, you couldn’t help but lean your head against the glass, your lack of sleep the previous night manifesting after eating so good.

“I think that knocked me out,” you tried hard to suppress a yawn in your throat as he turned on the ignition, soft rumbling making it harder.

“There’s a word for that,” he laughed. That was the last thing you could remember, before waking back up. The car was still parked in the same spot, and as you sleepily looked around, Winston sat in the same spot, peacefully reading a small book. Your stomach dropped as you noticed the time- nearly 3 o’clock.

“I am so sorry,” you stumbled through an apology, sleep still sticking to your panicked words. He simply took his reading glasses off, eyebrows raised as you rambled.

‘I don’t mind. I had my book.” 

“I didn’t snore, right?” Your skin burnt.

He paused. "It made a good ambience.”

You threw your head into your hands, Winston snickering at your expense as he started the car again. He drove out the area, sidewalk now full of families coming from school and work, in addition to teenagers loitering for a bit before they headed home. The scenery became less cozy and residential, and slowly became more retail, tall buildings advertising clothes and businesses. You recognized it as being your downtown area- albeit the parts you felt too low-income to pursue.

“What’s next?” You wondered if there was dried drool on your chin.

“I doubt anyone is talking to anyone back home.” Winston bit the inside of his cheek. He kept his eyes on the road, thoughts behind his eyes. He had a bittersweet look on his face, before speaking again. “When we didn’t have anything to do- or any spare money to do it with, my mom took my siblings and I to the department store.”

You’ve heard quite a few personal stories in the last few hours. Maybe it was his way of connecting. You decided to probe. “What’d you do?”

His face softened a bit, recounting the positive parts of the memory. “All types of fashion shows. Found future gifts to our dad. Made our mom promise to find us shirts just like the ones on the rack- and she did. We pretended we were the richest kids in the world. Preacher’s kids, we weren’t…terribly poor. But there were reminders. Mom made it better.” He smiled fondly, despite the car being stuck behind a bus.

The car moved forward. “I’m sure she’s the reason you turned out so well.” The car suddenly stalled, and you were honked at from behind. Eventually, you were parked against the busy sidewalk of a wide, tall building. The sheer size was enough to intimidate, as you still sat in the car, gazing at the top of the structure as he had the door handle in his hands.

You were estimating the floor count, before you felt a hand grab yours. His palms were soft, slightly calloused, but warm nonetheless. He looked down at your conjoined hands, before simpering back up at you. “So you don’t get lost.”

As Winston guided you through the bustling floor, your anxiety was substituted for security. The makeup counter was absolutely packed, as were the prom dresses upstairs. That made a fair amount of sense, as the school year would be ending soon. While on the escalator, you can see all the patrons, hurrying in and out with their bags. At the top, something in the toy section catches your eyes. Winston lets himself be led over.

“What a find,” you take a rectangular box off the shelf. It’s a nearly identical Smokey the Bear plushie, just a newer model. There’s a tribute to the old one printed on the back of the packaging. Winston watched as you reveled in the coincidence.

You remember his presence, and the lack of context he has for you suddenly admiring a children’s toy. “Ray sleeps with an old one. Smokey’s seen better days.” Winston smiles as you place it back on the display.

“Why not get it for him?” 

You shake your head swiftly. “I’d be dishonoring your mom. I thought the point was to not  spend money?”

He picked the bear back up. “She also says that you can’t take money to the grave. Maybe it can be a goodbye present? We can find something for Egon and Peter, too.”

You think on it. At this rate, there wasn’t much for you to repay their kindness with. Well-thought-out gifts paid for with Winston’s money will have to do, for now. You agree, before disembarking to a clothing department. You end up in the men’s section, articulate and hip pieces you couldn’t even dream of affording. Winston gazes up at the flashy, electric purple suit vest on a mannequin, as you sit back on a chair behind him.

“You like that one?” You sit up.

He puffs out a laugh at the outfits' pure hedonism. “It’s a lot. Even for me.”

“And you want it,” you rise, skimming the racks for the matching pieces in his size as he protests. You wordlessly hand them to him, and he surrenders, disappearing behind the entrance to a men’s dressing room. In the meantime, you’d look for Peter’s gift. To be fair, you knew him the least out of the 4 men. But Winston had told you he messed around too much in the lab, and lost his favorite tie to a small fire. He apparently never had time to replace it, and Winston could remember the exact brand, style, and color, so you figured he could single out the one you were looking for out of a short stack of silky, red fabrics. 

As you waited in a warmly lit lounge area by the fitting room, he emerged, holding his arms out and up to model it for you. The satin of the cream colored undershirt fit around him nicely, the bright vest even coming in at his waist a bit. He had the full ensemble on, even down to the suede loafers. He looked like a moviestar, even if he was too humble to actually admit it himself, the price tag swinging underneath his arm. 

“It’s something,” He looked at himself in the mirror, hands on his square hips.

“It’s great, that’s what it is,” you say honestly.

“You like vampire-soul-train?” He turned.

You put your hands up defensively. “I love vampire-soul-train.” He continued to look indecisive about it, confidence visibly falling. “Are you gonna come back for it?”

“Where would I wear it to?” He peeked at the price tag one more time, dropping it like it burned his fingers.

You shrugged. “You don’t need an occasion. Sometimes it’s just fun to dress up. Ask Janine.”

He laughs. “I guess you’re learning from the best.” He looks down pleasantly surprised at what he’s seeing on the floor. “If anything, I’d come back for the shoes.” He looks at you through the reflection in the mirror. “Did you find anything?” 

You look around at the dozens of clothes behind you. “I guess not.” There’s a lot to choose from, and a lot of bright colors fighting for your attention. It’s all a little overwhelming, looking at clothes you’d fall in love with and never buy. You end up standing in the middle of the department, scratching your head swimming with uncertainty, until Winston taps you on the shoulder.

“They have it in your size.” So you matched. 

“We look like a magic act,” you tease him, remembering Peter’s tie situation. After he pinpointed the correct match, you admired yourselves a little longer- at least until the staff were tapping you on the shoulder and asking if you needed anything, courteous smiles twitching as they watched you saunter around in their merchandise. 

You looked at more things in different departments- jewelry that you tried to convince Winston to re-pierce his ears for, home decor you’d have if your place was bigger. Eventually, he gladly paid for the 2 gifts, the large bag in which they were placed sitting next to you at an ice cream counter. As you ate, you both came to the conclusion that Egon deserved a decadent little chocolate cake from the dessert store you were at, and you hoped it would keep in the fridge overnight. 

“You ready to go home tomorrow morning?’ He put his spoon in his mouth. Butter pecan. You groaned lightly. You wanted to give them their space- and their money back, but it was like the ending to a pleasant dream, going from companionship and a warm place to sleep in a hard time to a now-damaged apartment and job fairs.

“As ready as I can be. Thanks, for putting up with me this weekend.” You put your spoon down.

“You won’t get rid of us that easy. We’ll be there to help you clean up.”

“The 4 archangels. I promise, when I get back on my feet I’m finding new ways to repay you all.” He dismissed your offer.

“It’s the minimum. Louis’ office was in the boiler room for a bit, you know.” He lightened your guilty mood. As he smiled, you noticed the now dark bruise against his jaw. Impulsively, you reached out and manipulated his face gently. 

“Does it still hurt?”

There’s a crash from the first floor. You both rush to the balcony railing, watching as people run to the exit, as feral growls vibrate around the large store. Winston grabs your hand again, though less tender now, running down the steps of the now disabled escalator against waves of people running up instead. When you reach the bottom, you watch in terror as an angry alligator destroys the store. As you looked on, you could see that the tail of the beast was vaporizing in front of you, as it hissed out a slime like the one you worked to wash out early in the morning. This wasn’t just an escaped animal. It was a ghost. Winston came to this conclusion at the same time that you did, pulling you towards the exit and to the Ecto. 

“Should we call Peter and Ray and-”

He opened the door to get his equipment. “They won’t get here in time. And they won’t have any  of this.” He grabbed a proton gun, staring down at it before sighing. “I’m gonna ask you to do something very dangerous.”

Your eyes flickered down to the weapon in his hands, before your mouth fell open. “Absolutely not. Dr. Spengler said that it was ‘unregulated units of atomic energy.’” He ignored your protests, putting the proton pack onto you. He pulled the belt tight around your waist.

“It’s easier than you think,” he said hurriedly, adjusting the straps on your shoulders. “Have you ever flown a plane?”

You stare at him, eyes blown and wide, before burying your head behind your hands. He pries them off gently, placing them each on different points of the gun. “Well then it’s just like driving a car. You shoot the ghost with this, okay? Just keep holding onto him, and I’ll open the trap for you. We’re gonna do it, and we’re gonna do it together.” 

Before you could revel in him talking you through it, he’s pushing you inside. Herds of frightened customers cling to the walls, out of the way of the ghost, and make room for you and Winston as they quietly whisper to each other that help has come. The alligator is ripping up a display, the woman in the ad subsequently dressed in Victorian style dress. Winston creeps up towards it slowly, before advising you to stay behind one of the makeup counters.

“I’m gonna tell you when. When I do, hit this button. That’s all. Okay?” You purse your lips, nodding, and crouching despite the nerves being felt in your weak legs. He leaves you behind, the ghost with its back turned as it tears up the poster. From your hiding spot, you can hear it notice him, growling loudly as it charges. He signaled you, and you popped up like a toy, shaky fingers igniting the stream.

He did the same, exclaiming loudly as you immobilized the spirit. He advised you to raise it up slowly, as the phantom flailed around. 

“What now?” You called over the volume of the particle accelerator whirring like crazy on your back, separated from your skin by a spring jacket and a sweater. He didn’t have an answer.

He hesitated. “You didn’t manage to grab a trap while you were out there, did you?” You could have fainted.  You saw his stream falter. “I’ll be right back. Keep holding him- I’ll be two seconds!’

His stream stopped, as he sprinted out the door, nearly slipping on ectoplasm in the process. The ghost thrashed harder, trying to resist the force suspending it in the air. You felt like the weight of holding up an adult alligator suddenly, and your arms couldn’t keep up with its fight. Your stream gave out for a split second, and in that time it was free, and on the floor. It locked eyes with you.

Your cry for Winston echoed throughout the department store- hell, throughout the city as you ran as fast as your legs could take you around the floor once, then up one of the escalators. You skidded to a stop at the end, as the chaos of the escaping crowd managed to knock down a large glass case, sending glass all over the floor. Your momentum didn’t stop you soon enough, and you slid over the shards before falling to the waxed floor. The ghost got closer, sending your heart to your toes as it opened its mouth, expelling a wave of noxious green slime. You saved your pride, ducking out of the way at the last second. You only had a moment to celebrate your triumph, as a quick movement of its ghastly tail reminded you of its ability to interact- and harm, the physical world. 

You got back on your feet, before noticing Winston run back inside out of the corner of your eye. You needed to get back downstairs, but all of the possible ways down were blocked. A large decoration swung from the ceiling, reaching fairly low to the ground. The ghost was creeping closer, teeth bared. If you die, please let your soul haunt the firehouse. 

Your nerves steeled themselves for you, hesitating on the ledge, before taking your literal leap of faith as the ghost lunged forward. You squeezed your eyes shut, only opening them when you felt your sweaty palms make contact with the course rope. You slide quickly, before remembering you actually had to catch the violent apparition. You reach weakly for the gun swinging behind you, forgotten, and feebly aim your gun at the glass part at the railing where it watched you. The glass shatters in its wake, and as you continue your ride down the rope, the ghost is caught in your stream, the speed at which you’re moving dragging it through the air. You reach a safe enough distance to the ground, letting go of your hold on the rope and dropping on your knees unstably. 

Winston’s been watching from the floor, regaining his strategy as the ghost hovers ahead. He sets his stream on it, and kicks a trap directly below. Your ears are ringing, and your heart’s beating at a thousand miles a minute as he calls on you to lower the spirit. With diminished resistance, the ghost is caught in the trap, smoking rising to the ceiling. The entire store is quiet. The smoke reaches the alarms, setting off the sprinklers, and the hostages erupt in celebration.

Winston lays an arm around your shoulder, speaking low into your ear. “I told you, it was easy. You’re amazing.” 

But you're still in a daze, and Winston recognizes it as he gently guides you to the car, avoiding reporters and even a few policemen. Before he takes you to the passenger side and aides you down into the seat, he raises your hand for everyone watching the news in the tri-state to see. 

“Y/N came, saw, and kicked its ass!”

You don’t say much as he drives back to the firehouse, siren on. You suddenly startle back to consciousness, turning to him in disbelief. 

“I caught a ghost.”

“You sure did.”

You laugh weakly, rubbing your eyes. Your laughter picks up, before it turns hysterical. You crank down the window, sticking your upper body out in ecstasy. This was the most alive you’ve felt in your entire adult life, and you let everything in the car’s path know.

“I caught a ghost!” You cry out as the Ecto drives through the city’s streets.

[reshramlove1ob]

*I AM NOT SAYING THIS WILL HAPPEN ANY TIME SOON*

But. What does everyone think of me starting commissions with my dolls. If you don’t know what my dolls look like, they are under the cut. Any prices I propose are subject to change.

Minis v (these minis have eyes made out of 3d plastic. I would not be offering this type of eyes.)

Small v

Medium v

Large v

*all measurements are subject to change due to the nature of these dolls

Minis = 9 in or 22 cm, 15 USD at the lowest

Smalls = 12 in or 30.5 cm, 25 USD at the lowest

Mediums = 13 in or 32 cm 27 USD at the lowest

Larges = 14.5 in or 37.5 cm 30 USD at the lowest

I can also make variations mission certain aspects of their designs, such as missing limbs or even torsos, as the case of this design. These would cost less than full sized dolls but more than minis depending on the limb you would like to get rid of. This could range anywhere from 20 USD to 27 USD if the doll is full sized and depending on what body part you remove.

Remove an arm or leg: remove 5 USD

Remove torso: remove 10 USD

Remove head: remove 12 USD

All dolls would come with themselves, at least shoulder length hair or shorter, button eyes that are hot glued on no matter what, short sleeved shirt, and pants or a at least knee length skirt or shorter. Anything else you would want to add will cost more money, which includes long sleeved shirts, long skirts or dresses, head accessories, jewelry, long hair, belts, layered clothing like jackets, extra clothing, extra limbs, ect. All of these additions would cost individually 5 USD.

Money saving options would include googly eyes instead of button eyes, this would save 1-2 USD, taking away limbs, which would be 5-10 USD, ordering without clothes, which could save 15-20 USD, and allowing me to use hot glue and craft foam in some areas, including clothing construction, eyeball and hair attachment, and more, which could save any amount of money depending on which places I would be allowed to use these options on.

Cheeper doll vs expensive doll:

Left is cheeper. While she has a few features that might make her look more expensive, she is of the shorts class (25 USD), has googly eyes (-1 USD), and has no extra clothing. Craft foam is used for the accessories as well (+5 USD for it all), making an overall cheeper doll. You’re looking at around a 29 USD doll.

Right is expensive. While many of her attributes are cheeper, she is a large doll (+30 USD). Her dress is all the way to her feet (+5 USD) and her hair is longer (+5 USD). She has many extra details that use no craft foam (+10 USD), as well as a staff that would cost even more (about 15 USD, though I wouldn’t offer the staffs.) You’re looking at around a 65 USD doll with the staff, and a 50 USD doll without the staff.

I can also make frogs and cats. Frogs would cost 5 USD and cats would cost 10 USD. These prices would increase if an accessory is wanted for the creatures (+5 USD or each accessory) and if eyes are wanted to be something else. (Googly eyes= -1-2 USD). Normal eyes would be buttons.

This is all in my time, this is not accounting for the shipment time. The dolls would take about a week or more to be created. Less time if hot glue is used. Frogs would take 1 day. Cats would take 2-3 days.

LET ME SAY THIS AGAIN. THIS IS NOT SET IN STONE YET. THIS MAY NOT EVEN HAPPEN. THIS IS JUST TO SEE HOW MANY PEOPLE WOULD BE INTERESTED.

Constructive criticism of the dolls and anything else I’ve shown is welcomed. The dolls I’ve shown are personal, and they are not perfect. If I were to make dolls for commercial reasons, they would look much nicer than unhemmed edges and unsewn parts. Having said that, these dolls are not intended for rough play.

[tigersullivan01]

Mother figure Alma Peregrine x Teen Reader - little trouble pt1

Having the capability to transform into a Fox as a peculiarly isn’t ideal, people don’t take the time before judging you. Being labeled a thief the moment they know is quite harsh to go through every time you enter a new loop with a new ymbryne, it makes you throw hope out the window and become what they label you as. 

So being sent off to another loop isn’t surprising, although having Miss Avocet transport you is. I never liked the old woman, she is full of herself. Everything she says has to be right because she said so. 

Sitting on the train in complete boredom with my small torn up bag with an extra shirt and my green frog stuffy, maybe i could nick some wallets? 

“I’m going to the loo” I mutter before standing up and weaving through the crowd of passengers, slipping my hands into pockets and slipping out wallets, watches, jewelry and notebooks. 

What? Notebooks contain interesting stuff, like gossip or interesting facts, or a look into the life of person I stole from. Setting back down in my seat beside Miss Avocet, sliding my goods into my torn bag. The old hag grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the train towards the docks, the sky’s sending down drizzling rain making the streets muddy and filled with water. Looking at the people we pass and snagging a few more valuables before we get to the ticket booth. 

“Two tickets please…….there you go……thank you”

 Grabbing my wrist again after buying the tickets and pulling me on the ferry. 

“OKAY! No need to drag me around like a stray dog!” I say irritated and getting slapped across the face from Miss Avocet as a response. 

“Do not speak like that young child! Show respect for your elders and you may have a home one day, ungrateful child. I’m sending you to Miss Peregrine, she’ll put you straight. She’s my best student and a strong woman, she’ll crack you in a few days. If not then you’ll be on your own”

Good can a woman spit less when talking through her anger? I’m practically soaked in her saliva! Grumbling as I sit down on the wet beach as un-proper as possible, spreading my legs widely and sitting on the edge, leaning back with my arms crossed over my chest. 

“Sit properly child! Straighten that back and knees together!” 

As the ferry docks the dock on the small island Miss Avocet grabs my wrist AGAIN and dragging me through the small town and muddy streets, through the brush and towards the loop entrance, out of the cave on the other side and up the front steps of the gigantic brick house. Almost slamming my head against the door from the abrupt stop, the doors open sharply. Revealing a tall raven/ blue haired woman in her mid twenties? A feminine suit and a pipe, sharp eyes and a commanding look. 

“Esmeralda! Glad to see that you’ve made it safely. Is this my new ward?”

“Alma dearest! It’s a pleasure to se you again, although I wish it was under better circumstances, yes this rascal is your new ward. I warn you they live up to their namesake, they have light fingers. Now I must be of, goodbye dear and you child” she puts a finger against my chest. 

“I suggest you behave, or you’ll become an orphan without an orphanage to take you in” with that she leaves. 

“Please come in dear, I’m Miss Peregrine delighted to meet you” she introduced herself and walks inside, I follow after her fast pace. 

“Y/n…..Y/n Fox” she smiles and puts a cup of tea in my hands and pulls me to the back garden. 

“The twins and Clare, Hugh with the bees and Millard the invisible one, the girl with big shoes is Emma and the redhead is Olive. Enoch is in the window on the second floor to the right, Fiona is the girl in the garden and Bronwyn is the girl that’s helping her, the boy reading in the grass is Horace” she points everyone out and turning to me. 

“I understand that you’re not the easy child to look after. Your previous ymbryne sent me a long letter about your….capabilities. I’d like to make my own observations before I jump to conclusions, how about take you to your room?” 

“Yea”  She walks inside putting the cups on the kitchen counter before walking upstairs and opens the door furthest down the corridor to the left. The room is small, a bed in the corner, dresser against the wall and a window beside it and a small rug on the floor. 

“Make yourself comfortable, supper is at five” she smiles before leaving, I push the door shut and pull out the notebooks, wallets and my frog stuffy and sit down on the bed, making myself comfortable and starts going through the wallets, counting the money and looking at the different bruises cards and notes, throwing the wallets in a pile in the corner of the room for later and moving onto the notebooks. Reading through them, and severely judging people on a few points in their notes, I hear a clock wringing. I guess it’s already super then. Walking downstairs and towards the chatter from other children I find the dining room and an empty seat beside Emma? I think that was the blonde’s name and Miss Peregrine. Sitting down and looking over my pre filled plate in front of me. 

“Go ahead and eat before it gets cold” 

Miss Peregrine announces and the children starts eating, I only push the food around and nibble on some meat. 

“What’s your peculiarity?” The boy with bees asks. 

“I can transform into a fox” I mumble uninterested. 

“So you’re a thief?” The boy that smells like death asks. A hole minute and around forty seconds before I’m one’s again labeled a thief because of my peculiarity. Called it!  

“Enoch! We do not greet our guests like that, apologize!” Miss Peregrines practically growled at the death boy. Receiving a glare from the boy as the dinner continued uneventful. 

“Go and get ready for bed so we can watch the movie” the children goes upstairs quickly but i don’t bother, i don’t even own pjs. I simply walk away and transforms into a Fox and follow the first child to the movie room when they come downstairs. I lay down underneath one of the sofa’s as the rest of the children filter into the room, Miss Peregrine standing in the doorway. 

“Where is our newcomer?” She asks confused and i wag my tail from side to side so she’ll se me. 

“Oh there you are, come here” To my surprise she pulls me out from underneath the sofa and picks me up in her arms before returning to her spot in the doorway and turning the lights off. Staying in stunned silence in the woman’s arms, this has definitely never happened, not even my own mother touched me, specially not in this form.

Horace’s dream is about clothes, suits and ties and that fancy stuff I’ll never afford. After that I’m carried outside and put down in the slightly damp grass as the others prepare for reset. A few smaller fighter planes flights over us followed by a larger aircraft that drops the bomb, after the day is rewinded again we all head inside. I quickly run upstairs to my room and curl up in a ball wrapped inside my frog stuffy and the covers, I hear the clicking of heals and feel the smell of Miss Peregrine as she enters the room. 

“Good night Y/n” she says before leaving again. I lay there for a few minutes, another first, my first time someone wished me a good night. Odd 

Hello I give you this as an apology for the latest one i posted, it wasn’t good. I’ll do the second part as soon as possible, I’m myself not patient when it comes to waiting for upcoming parts. - Tiger

[twstfanblog]

Twist OC Fankid Info 2

Ashengrotto Twins

**Charysa Ashengrotto-Crewel**

Age: 17 (Feb 22, Eldest twin)

School: Sophmore at NCR. Member of the Tennis Club and Co-Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Height: 5'5"

Hair: Mid-back length lilac hair, normally in twin tails

Eyes: Dark blue

Likes: 'Plushies', romance novels, making colored sand art, poetry, word puzzles, accessories of all kinds

Dislikes: 'Stuffed Animals', being broken up with, rumors (That she didn't start), horror movies, losing

Pets?: A bloom of Jellyfish. She and Scylar cried until Azul bought sea real estate to keep them safe.

Fav Food: Spicy Seafood Alfredo

Who's their Best Friend?: Scylar ♡

Dating/Crush?: A revolving door of shitty boyfriends and a very sweet secret admirer

Part one of the fast-talking con-artist Ashengrotto twins. They will talk you into a verbal contract to do their homework for months. But you can pay them to drop it.

Charysa is a hopeless romantic who misses every red flag when she falls in love. Luckily, her family is so intense about finances that Azul scares off every last one that makes it to meeting him. (If you plan on dating either of Azul's direct daughters, you better have excellent credit, a hand balanced checkbook, and be prepared to set up your 401K. Legal documentation is mandatory). If Azul doesn't scare them off, Scylar will.

She has a secret admirer who lifts her spirit with thoughtful gifts after every failed relationship and is lowkey keeping her love of romance alive.

Pretty laidback but is weirdly intense about her tennis record. The only person she's lost to in a match is Finley and she's keeping it that way. (Tennis ball coming at you going Mach 14)

Kind of a crybaby, but has actually broken people's bones for making fun of her siblings. (She snapped one child's finger in kindergarten for saying her twin looked gross)

Sadly, gets periods along with Yuu and Malgona.

Unique Magic: Siren Song. No one is really sure if it is a unique spell since it's a shared spell between the twins. When they both sing in harmony, it makes for a hypnotic effect that briefly brings people under their command. Not used very often as they don't have much control over whoever hears their song since they need to sing the commands in perfect harmony.

Any time they HAVE used it, it was clearly premeditated and they were grounded afterwards.

**Scylar Ashengrotto-Crewel**

Age: 17 (Feb 22, Youngest twin)

School: Sophmore at NCR. Member of the NRC Choir and Co-Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Height: 5'5"

Hair: Mid-back length lilac hair, normally in a ponytail

Eyes: Dark blue

Likes: 'Stuffed Animals', concerts, social media, economics, fashion, gaudy jewelry, singing.

Dislikes: 'Plushies', frogs, her sister getting a new boyfriend, spicy food, Men.

Pets?: A bloom of jellyfish. She and Charysa insist that Azul call them by their names properly.

Fav Food: Seafood Alfredo

Who's their Best Friend?: Charysa ♡

Dating/Crush?: Looking for a cute girlfriend

Distinguished lesbian, threw a fit when she was picked by the mirror as an NRC scholarship student when she was set to go to an all-girls school instead. While more fem-presenting people have been accepted and invited to attend NRC in the recent years, Scylar is still mad because no one has caught her eye yet and is CONVINCED if she had gone to an all-girls school she'd be engaged by now.

The more violent of the twins but also the most logical. She is the one planning on how to jump someone at a later date if anyone DARES fuck over she and her sister. The twins do not fight fair and will ambush you together.

She is fully aware of who her sister's secret admirer is and is TRYING to get him to confess so she can stop dealing with her sister's terrible boyfriends. He keeps refusing and claiming things are best the way they are. Scylar just assumes he doesn't have the proper legal documents he needs to meet Azul.

The 'tired gay' of the family, though JJ disagrees.

Unique Magic: Siren Song. No one is really sure if it is a unique spell since it's a shared spell between the twins. When they both sing in harmony, it makes for a hypnotic effect that briefly brings people under their command. Not used very often as they don't have much control over whoever hears their song since they need to sing the commands in perfect harmony.

She's more talented than her sister in the singing department, but the skill seems to split evenly during the spell. So, Scylar works hard to improve her singing to make their spell stronger.

And that's the twins! Onto the Eldest Vipers!

[citrenecult]

Heket headcanons? Or more NariLamb ones!

Can the Lamb cook

Heket

-Heket is really strong. She may look like a fat frog but under that fat is muscle and she can definitely throw a hard punch. Is skilled in hand-to-hand combat and doesn’t like using weapons all that much.

-She was the first sibling Shamura adopted and definitely missed the days where it was only them two. She does love her brothers but sometimes she longs for Shamura’s undivided attention.

-I mean we all agree that Heket gives off lesbian vibes right?

-She had a great voice for singing and wrote many lullabies for her brothers when they were still babies. She also enjoyed playing the lute and it would often accompany her songs.

-She is a patron for children, though that was not always the case. It took her a long time warm up to the idea of other siblings but once she grew to love them she dedicated Anura to being a safe haven for mortal children. She defiantly has a soft spot for them, as they reminder her of simpler times when her brothers were still babies and toddlers. Though that does not stop her from having an occasional child sacrifice from time to time.

-Believes in the fat. Fat is a compliment. Be chubby and be proud!

-Is into fashion and has an extensive wardrobe. Likes fluffy or silky scarves and gloves and wearing jewelry. Kallamar often steals borrows her clothes and never gives them back, much to her dismay.

-After Narinder’s betrayal she became emotionally distant from the rest of her siblings. She may not have had the best relationship with Narinder before hand but him turning his back on their family hurt her more than she ever thought it would. Becoming distant gave her comfort in thinking that, should something happen to her siblings , it wouldn’t hurt as much. This made the bond between the bishops fragile and fighting was becoming commonplace. It didn’t matter much, as her devastation over Leshy’s death hurt just as much if not more than Narinder's betrayal.

-Heket became Shamura’s caretaker after they suffered their head injury and took up the mantle of head of the Old Faith in their stead even though she was not in the right state of mind to do so.

-She blamed herself for Leshy’s death. She was still grieving for him even while fighting the Lamb and while her emotions made her more lethal they also made her accident-prone, resulting in her loss and death.

NariLamb

tbh completely honest I ship them more platonically than romantically but I’ll try to provide headcanons that work for both

-Lamb’s love language is physical touch while Narinder’s is words of affirmation. Lamb is kinda sorta definitely touch starved and desperately wants a hug while Narinder wants to hear that he’s enough or if he’s doing a good job at something.

-Lamb and Narinder are listeners rather than talkers so they make for great ears when it comes to talking about issues. Lamb is the one that offers advice, however. Narinder’s advice is awkward/well-intentioned but poorly worded most of the time.

-Narinder wants his crown back. Lamb is not giving it back.

-Lamb helped a lot with Narinder physical therapy when he was still a newly indoctrinated follower. They came up with an exercise regime that kept Narinder in shape and slowly helped build his strength up. Narinder didn’t like it at first, it felt patronizing but warms up to it eventually.

-Narinder hates water because cat. Lamb absolutely loves pushing him (safely) into ponds. Narinder hates it in the moment but there will come a day when he’ll look back on it and laughs even though he still hates it.

-I can’t imagine them really getting officially married but it taxes were to become a thing (ie, the cult itself gets taxed for whatever reason) I can see Lamb going up to Narinder and asking, “Would you marry me for tax benefit?” And Narinder would absolutely say yes because fuck taxes.

-Lamb cannot cook very well (I mean have you seen the food in game? I’m worried about the Cultists diets) but can prepare pufferfish correctly and with ease so hey that’s something! (A big something)

[scaredpigeons]

excerpt from my upcoming neuvi fic, bc I'm excited. (Ft. Ningguang cuz she’s so hoootttttt)

(please read this with the knowledge that reader found out that neuvi was a dragon all on her own, resulting in supreme fluff and the deepening of their relationship. This excerpt takes place at a ball for neuvi’s birthday.)

She came to a stop in front of you, nodding at Neuvillette. 

“May I steal your lovely little assistant for this next dance?” Her voice even sounded rich, like she was someone incredibly important, incredibly powerful. 

Neuvillette tensed a bit, his hand still holding yours, bit he breathed, guiding you towards the golden woman. “By all means, enjoy yourselves.” 

“Good.” She took your hand, nodding to her companion. “Beidou, please entertain the Iudex, talk of trade or whatever strikes your fancy.” 

She pulled you along, guiding you into a new section of the dancefloor and immediately took up the position of the guiding role, pulling you this way and that, though very elegantly, and with practiced ease. 

“It’s lovely to finally meet the infamous little assistant.” She said, her ruby eyes glittering. 

You felt like you had a frog in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m not sure who you are, miss.” 

“Ah,” she smiled. “You can call me Ningguang. I run some… business in liyue, and I'm hoping to better my connections with our neighbors by the sea, so to speak.” 

Ningguang… where had you heard that name before? 

“Ah, then I suppose I’m your gal,” you smiled, feeling a little more at ease. “Most trade negotiations come through me before they reach the Iudex.” 

“As I expected. I just wished to meet the person I would be sending my offers to, I would like to know who I’m in business with, you understand.” 

You nodded. “Of course, that’s completely understandable.”

”You're such a sweet little thing.” She smiled at you, and you still couldn't shake the feeling you knew her from somewhere. A woman with this aura of importance surely couldn't just be a merchant from liyue. 

You let your eyes roam past her shoulder, catching glimpses of her companion speaking with Neuvillette, laughing loudly at something he said and smacking the man on the shoulder in her amusement. 

He looked shocked, but was unmoving, a polite smile on his face. 

“So,” Ningguang said. “How long have you two been in love?”

You did trip this time, but she caught you, the sharps of her hand jewelry digging into your skin ever so slightly. 

“I beg your pardon?” You squeaked. 

She laughed, it was a rich and lucious melody you’d never heard in a laugh before. 

“Oh please, anyone with eyes can see the way he postures over you like a dog guarding a bone,” her gaze turned mischievous, then. “Or a dragon hoarding its treasure.” 

She must’ve felt the way you tensed, the slight quirk of your brow as she said it, because her eyes thinned with amusement, though you weren’t sure if it was on your behalf or at your expense. 

After finishing the dance in relative silence, the song ended, and she pulled you by your hand back towards Neuvillette and her companion, Beidou. 

She gave a dramatic bow at the waist, bringing your hand to her lips. “Thank you for indulging me, little one.” She pressed a kiss onto the white satin of your glove, her red lipstick only leaving the faintest of marks. “The information you gave me was most insightful.” 

You blushed intensely, not having the words to respond, so you just nodded, giving a light curtsy. 

“Congratulations, Monsieur, and Happy Birthday.” she said to Neuvillette. 

He bowed, very respectful. “Thank you, Lady Ningguang.” 

She dragged her companion away towards the drink table, and it suddenly hit you. 

“That was…” holy celestia. 

“Lady Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, yes.” Neuvillette sighed. 

“And you let me dance with her without a warning?!” You whisper-yelled. 

Neuvillette seemed to shake some unwanted emotions off, steadying himself with a heavy grip on his ornamental cane. “Lady Ningguang is not one to be denied such simple requests, and besides,” he looked down at you. “I thought you knew.” 

“Pardon me for not expecting to be asked to dance by the leader of a nation.” You grumbled slightly. 

Neuvillette laughed, short and quick before he covered it with a cough— clearing his throat. 

“And what is so amusing?” You looked up at him expectantly, a little taken aback at how open and soft his expression was. 

“She’s only the second leader of a nation to ask you for a dance, my dear. I had the privilege of being the first.” 

Your stomach did somersaults at his words, the tone of his voice, his eyes fluttering all across your exposed skin. You felt hot, so very hot. 

“What information did you give her?” Neuvillette asked, though it lacked an accusatory tone. 

“I didn’t really say anything to her,” you mumbled. “Though I think she suspects you to be a dragon.” 

He scoffed a little, voice low and teasing. “And I wonder what kind of woman would ever come to that conclusion, hmm?” 

Your stomach decided it was some sort of acrobat, and your thighs quivered. 

“Excuse me a moment, I’m going to get a drink.” You managed to squeak out. “Would you like one?” 

“Water, if you would.” 

[the-iron-shoulder]

My opinions on name changes in the SMRPG remake: an incomplete list

Mack / Claymorton: yeah, I can respect this. “Mack the Knife” is probably kind of an obscure reference, and Claymorton is a reasonably clever name.

Kerokerocola / Croaka Cola: hnnnng FINE. USAmericans mostly don’t know that “kerokero” is the sound frogs make, and yes, pun on Coca-Cola, fine. But I still like the original better even if it makes perfect objective sense why they would change it.

Frogfucius / The Frog Sage: doesn’t bother me. I can definitely see, now that I’m not in elementary school like I was when the original took over my life, that “Frogfucius” is probably just a liiiiittle bit culturally insensitive. I’m fine calling this an improvement.

B’tub Ring / Nurture Ring: bah, the B’tub Ring was perfect! One, “bathtub ring” is an actual preexisting phrase and so that’s some fun wordplay, two, the idea of the princess wearing a bathtub-shaped piece of jewelry is hilarious, three, “nurture ring” doesn’t convey what it does any better than B’tub Ring did. (Yes yes, I get “nurture ring / nurturing;” doesn’t help.) Thumbs down.

Remo Con / Dollox: eh, why did we bother? I liked the implication that the monster was being controlled from afar. If “dollox” is a pun (doll + ???), I’m not getting it.

Fire Orb / Fireball: I mean, I can’t really argue here, Mario throws fireballs, that’s a Thing.

Psychopath / Thought Peek: genuine improvement.

Static E! / Static Electricity: Boooo. I miss having an exclamatory E! in the name of an attack. That was fun! Bring back the bang!

Yaridovich /Speardovich: JAIL FOR TRANSLATOR! JAIL FOR TRANSLATOR FOR ONE THOUSAND YEARS

[spicyraeman]

This week's batch of drawings will make you coo gentlepeople! Traumatised murder Bébé Lae'zel and happy Bébé Xan will make you melt like butter in a warm croissant! You never cared for kids? Now you do!

As a french speaker, the charisma check of a froggy frog Lae'zel would probably fail tbh. But it makes me laugh to imagine her accent being 100% harsher and the words mispronounced. They really missed a comical opportunity.

"What do you mean, wizard? Why can't I say 'I want to hit the beach' in front of the hatchlings? I had my hopes to see some phoques there. WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING SHADO-ART! We need to foc-us!"

Buuuuuut in french to say "my love / 🐸 my joy 🐸" you can say "mon cœur" which means "my heart". ( Coincidence? I think not!) I can almost imagine a scene where it's softly choked in a bloody pointy ear at camp after a scary fight. Almost. So just for that I can admit it can be cute. (Want more french lessons? Scream weewoo 🚑 at 3am and I'll appear on your bed, sleep-deprived with a complotist white board ! Special discount for fanfic writers and artists)

I saw briefly the translated version of the game, it's... an experience. They translated SH literally, it really brought out the cringe I probably should've felt in English but didn't. It's wayyy to close to "Shadowcunt" too, but we have Shart here so I can't really speak up. Poor girl is taking punches in every languages 😂

Also I love how everytime I send you something stuck in my brain, you come up with the most reasonable and obvious answers. Why do I forget these characters don't live in a bubble but in a society? Ofc there are gonna be pointy ears headphones 😂🤦‍♀️ All week I imagined some designs for those, then jewelries, then piercings, then I reaaally need to stop this brain. Qquipart is right too, Karlach is def a speaker user!

I live to give you cute drawing ideas. Doing the devil's work I'm sure, adding to the everlasting pile 😈

And take all the time you need to answer, obv. I'm sending a weekly rambling letter to a friend and finding an answer randomly in my mailbox ; waiting is part of the fun.

🫀🚑

Yes! I had kids on the brain at the time! It's not something that happens often, but i couldn't resist baby Xan or Lil'zel

I find French accents incredibly endearing, not particularly attracted to them, but theres something about them i just love. An obscenely french Lae’zel would make me lose my shit, and honestly, it would fit her. I've always had the hc that lae'zels accent is waaayyy more prominent than in game and that she mispronounces words more frequently. I mean, shes probably never had to speak common to anyone before the nautiloid, how would she know how some words are pronounced?

Also bestie ya cant just drop an atomic bomb on me like that, thats too fuckin cute bro my heart 😭

As for reasonable and obvious answers, they're like that cuz ive got terminal worldbuilder disease, and as soon as you sent that ask, i took a whole day just researching headphones and IEMs. I really should draw up some designs for them 🤔 and yeaaa karlach is def bumping the speakers at full volume

It truly is an everlasting pile, i should probably actually start writing them down lmaooo

Trust me, im taking my time lol my brain works at a snails pace, but seeing an ask from you makes my week so ty <3

[ouro-bones]

Also Corrupt Bossfight before they were a couple. as a Treat.

Circumcannon was fidgeting angrily with a necklace . He hated these things . Impossible to work. He was strong , But figuring out jewelry wasn't his specialty .

His shoulder was grabbed , quite a bit roughly . Circumcannon reached for his holster to retrieve his gun , But Cintagram immediately stops him .

" Good god. Paranoid aren't we ? Relax would you ? I'm trying to help you. " The Older says spitefully . Taking the necklace from The Commander .

Circumcannon hissed , sticking out a forked tongue in mock disgust . Cintagram snapped at him .

" Don't be a Child , Commander . " He grumbled , clicking the necklace around his neck . The Commander standing still as a statue , Clearly not sure what to think about his assigned co-worker's claws so close to his neck. But Cintagram carried on , Not thinking anything of it

" Everyone knows sparkly means dangerous . " Cintagram said , Matter-of-factly.

" That sounds wrong . " Circumcannon hissed in return . Not amused by the Pentagons lighthearted comment .

" You've ever seen a poison dart frog ? That's a great example . and Anyway . Don't argue with your elders . " Cintagram teased . It clearly missed the mark. Circumcannon wasn't aware he was joking .

" I am Three years older than you. " He said , Which made the Pentagon cackle.