#reblog spells

[heybaetae]

maknae line + gestures of love 🫰🏼💋🫶🏼🌹🤟🏼 happy birthday @jkvjimin! ♡

[jonahmagnus]

In world where there are two types of tower-dwellers, a Princess is locked in a tower.

There are two types of tower-people: A Princess, put there to remain pure until marriage or until rescued, and a Wizard, put there by choice to study and learn in isolation. Princesses are defined by their beautiful long hair, and Wizards are defined by their beards and impressive 'stache.

There is a Princess, and she lives in a tower. She was put there recently by her mother and father, to keep her pure and untouched until they can secure the marriage to another kingdom and a prince shes doesn't love. She has long, almost brown sandy-blonde hair, pale green eyes and a slim, tender build. She is not the fairest in the land, but she is tall and pretty. If compared to a rose, she would be the humble yet graceful willow tree, slender and long. She has wanted to be a wizard since a young age, but there is no way for a princess to become a wizard. Princesses are delicate girls to be protected and sold off until their either dead or Queens or have found True Love, unsuited to the life of experimentation and study of a wizard. That is what her mother tells her, in a quiet scolding that is far more forceful and cruel then it has any right to be. And the princess, terrified, believes her.

She used to run the castle halls, stick in hand, robe fashioned out of a delicate silk bedsheet, shouting fake spells at birds while her servants chased her. But as she grew older, her restraints became tighter, and more and more often, she was confined in her room to embroider in solitude with barely the comfort of a window or a maid. The life she is forced into makes her hang her head low, makes her hands be paper-soft, and demands her hair be long and beautiful and perfect like all other princesses. The world she longed to be a part of was a world of study and experimentation, and as the kingdoms princess and tool, she could not even dare to hint at her desires into adulthood. She could become a witch, she knew, flee the castle barefoot and sink into the loving embrace of the swamp. But witches don’t live in towers, and they make potions instead of spells, and they don’t grow the flowing whimsical beards that wizards do.

But that does not mean she has to be bored in her tower. Fascinated by magic as she always has been, she arranges with a long string of bribes for books on spells and forbidden potions to be smuggled along with her meals. She studies them while the clock ticks down for either a prince to arrive or her marriage to be finalized. Either one will doom her, and she wants to enjoy herself as much as possible until her marriage. She pours over the books long into the night by candlelight, and all day, she rests her pale, tired eyes. She experiments, and she reads, and she studies non-stop, barely stopping for meals and littering her books with an assortment of food stains. She cuts off her hair to use in bubbling gold potions, her skin becomes scarred with a rainbow of the consequences of failed experiments, and her dresses turn into makeshift cheesecloths and fire-fuel. She washes late into the night after she is done with her work for the day in the darkness, not glancing into the mirror that has become cracked and dusty. When her eyesight starts to fail from strain and working in darkness, she fashions for herself bottle-round glasses, blown by herself in the depths of her tower. Engrossed as she is in her studies, she does not notice the tower warp, and the meals stop rotting, and how she started out in one circular room but now has a loft and a second floor and the fact that the tower seems much much taller then it was originally.

What she DOES notice though, is when brushing crumbs from her face she feels facial hair on her upper lip.

She rushes to the bathroom and thrusts a candle into the holder as she looks at herself. In the dusty mirror, she sees the beginnings of a bushy mustache sit on her upper lip, much further along in growth then be logically possible without her noticing. It’s a pale blonde, like her hair, and she notices faintly that there are streaks of grey in it, a very familiar shade of classic wizard grey. She brings a trembling hand to her upper lip.

Much, much later, a prince rides up to the tower. It is tall, and warped, and very clearly belonging to a wizard, despite the royal family claiming their daughter lives here.

He shouts up, a bit nervous because of the thorny vines wrapping the beautiful stonework.

“Hey! Does a Princess live here?”

A young man with large bottle glasses and a rather impressive mustache leans out of the tower, his short, sandy-blonde hair spilling lightly in the wind. He starts to say something, then glances back into his house. A smile breaks out on his face as he seems to realize something.

“No!” He shouts back, after a moments hesitation. “But a wizard does!”

[brown-spider]

Lightskin Gwen edits by Mudp4wzz on twitter

"South African" Gwanda real 💯

[werewolf-transgenderism]

WOE! wizard spell of gay love be upon ye 🧙‍♂️🔮🪄✨🏳️‍🌈🌟❤️🧡💛💚💙💜⭐🏳️‍⚧️⚧️🌠🌈

[torao-chan]

And you're never truly gone As long as a part of you in me lives on - 🎶 Immortal by Reinaeiry

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part one

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

status: completed

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 1.1k

The thing was, you didn’t plan on getting laid tonight. 

After a couple of days trying to settle in at Barcelona and looking for your lost luggage, all you wanted to do was to finally start your vacation. You just wanted to relax and experiencing the night life in Barcelona was definitely a good way to officially kick it off. 

So there you were at the bar of an (apparently) exclusive night club in the city–the location was emailed to you by Derek with a VIP pass and a note that said, ‘have fun ;)’–nursing your second, half-empty glass of mojito, the speakers blasting rhythmic reggaeton music, when a woman slid into the space next to you, cool and confident with the way she leaned on her elbows against the counter as she gave the bartender her order in smooth spanish, “A gin rickey, please.”

The woman looked to be several years older than you–and taller, too, even with your heels on–and maybe it was the alcohol or the proximity but there was no stopping yourself from openly admiring her. Her black, cropped top and her tight, high-rise pants revealed perfectly broad shoulders and toned arms, as well as the taught lines of her stomach. When your eyes travelled back to her face, you found her looking at you with a raised brow and immediately, your cheeks warmed. The fact that you were gawking shamelessly and got caught doing so… just wow.

Words of apology were already on your tongue but the curves of her lips were mesmerising, the elegant slope of her brows distracting, and those eyes… the depth in them threatened to drown you that all coherent thought deserted you. 

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Excuse me?” Came the bemused question, an instant slap to the face that sobered you up immediately. 

“I’m so–I’m sorry, that’s what I meant to say. I’m–” You palmed a hand over your face as you began but a small chuckle stopped you halfway. You risked a peek through your fingers and saw the woman with her lips to the glass, something akin to a teasing smirk on her face while she remained leaning on the counter by her hip. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The woman asked as she took a sip from her drink.

Not really the question you were expecting but you’d rather take a reprieve over a disaster. And at that, you smiled sheepishly at her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Hmm, no, not really. Your slight accent gave you away but your Spanish is impressive.”

“I’m still working on losing it but I’ll take that as a win. I’m assuming you’re from around here?”

“My home town is about an hour away outside of the city but I stay here most of the time for work.”

“That must be nice, being close to home.” Feeling more at ease now, you sipped at your drink. The woman did the same. Then you continued. “So, what do you do?”

For a moment there was nothing but music and chatter as the woman regarded you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes glinted–with what exactly? curiosity?–her head cocked slightly to the side. Then she sipped at her drink again. Did you say something offensive? you wondered.

“I work between the sport stadiums. And you? Where is home and what brings you to Barcelona?” 

It was clear from the vagueness of her answer that the stranger didn’t want to talk about her job and it didn’t help your growing interest for her. You wanted to ask her about further details but the dismissive tone with which she answered made you hold your tongue and her question, anyway, made you pause as you pondered to answer.

As an orphan who lived a few years in the system, the subject of where home was had always been a sore spot for you even if the stranger didn’t mean anything deeper by it. In some sense, your adoptive mom was home but there was always a part of you that longed for… something.  But, of course, you couldn’t bring that up right now especially to someone you just met. So you just told her where you were from, that you were on vacation, and that you work as a photojournalist for a press agency you helped establish. Something in your answer must had piqued the woman’s interest because her brows shot up.

“Which branch do you work in?”

“Spot news. But I’ve been meaning to expand my portfolio and get into another branch. Maybe try sports or portrait?”

The woman hummed in appreciation. “Any sports in particular? Wait, do you even like sports?”

“I honestly know close to nothing so I haven’t made a decision yet, but it will definitely be women’s sports,” you replied. She nodded and sipped at her drink again, never breaking her gaze from yours and you felt your cheeks warm again. Those eyes… they were dangerous; they lit up every nerve in your body and it felt good. You continued. “What about you? Are you much of a sports person?”

And to your total bafflement, the woman beamed at you, radiant and glowing, dimples in her cheeks as mirth shone in her eyes.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous and at somewhat of a loss. 

The stranger let out a small chuckle, shook her head slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, an attempt to hide her smile. “Nothing, nothing. And yeah, I’m a big sports fan. Then a beat passed before she continued, “you ever thought of covering women’s football? There are plenty of matches happening in the domestic leagues right now.”

“Maybe I will,” you hummed, mulling it over. It sounded good actually. And then you asked, “what else do you suggest for someone to do in Barcelona?”

The woman downed her remaining drink and placed the empty glass on the counter. Before you knew it, you could feel the warmth of her breath against your ear and you shivered when she purred. “Dance, of course.”And then she was holding your hand, pulling you off of the stool you were on, and began dragging you to the direction of the dance floor. 

All at once, warmth encompassed you: the crowd immediately swallowed you both, bodies pressed on you but the heat that emanated from the woman before you was the sole beacon for your attention. She had a loose arm around your waist and as the both of you danced to the music, you took that opportunity to wrap your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. She slowed down and she still had enough height on you that she had to lower her head.

“I never caught your name,” you spoke into her ear. 

“I’m Ale,” she replied. She pulled back to smile down at you. And then, she kissed you. 

[coolnonsenseworld]

Realized I never published this piece for Cursed Love story. Lance is performing a protection spell 🕊️

Last day for 15-20% off prints

Linktr.ee/mezzy

[wyattjohnston]

closer than i ever even knew - quinn hughes

summary: quinn saves the day and goes mini-golfing

word count: 1.1k

note: happy belated birthday @fallinallincurls! this is much, much shorter than i anticipated and i hope it's short but sweet. muchas gracias to @offside-the-lines <3

bingo: friends to lovers | witty banter | fake dating | it’s always been you

It starts, like any good romance movie does, with an event she doesn’t want to go to and a friend willing to save the day.

The event isn’t even big or fancy, which makes the whole thing so funny. She’s under no obligation to bring anyone, let alone a romantic partner, but, during the busiest hour of her week, a coworker had asked if she was going to, and the ‘yes’ had slipped from her mouth before she’d even realised it was happening.

Thus, Quinn Hughes was playing mini golf at a "team bonding" event her company decided was a good idea.

Her intention hadn’t been to earn any brownie points by bringing him—he had volunteered himself, after all—but the second they arrived and her boss spotted Quinn Hughes, Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, she immediately grouped them with her, her wife and the next nearest couple.

They wasted no time in heading to the first hole, her boss taking the lead and making sure they weren’t stuck behind anybody else. Which turned out to be a good thing because Quinn was taking practice swings with the putter.

She rolled her eyes as she asked, “Are you taking this seriously, or are you having fun?”

“Are we on a team?”

“No, it’s individual.”

“Then I’m taking it seriously,” Quinn answered easily. “No way am I letting you win.”

The questions came through shortly after they started, nosing in on the relationship lie that resulted in Quinn joining them for the day. Well, they weren’t aware that it was a lie, of course.

Luckily for her, Quinn was all too happy to do the talking.

The lingering looks and touches had her wondering why Quinn pursued hockey when he would have been just as successful as an actor. Even though he was determined to win, the simple repositioning of her hands on the putter and the minute correction of the position of her hips were leaving her short of words.

“Is this good enough for you, Captain?” she called over her shoulder, teasing Quinn as she lined up for her next shot. The wiggle in her hips was joking—mostly involuntary even—but it immediately drew Quinn’s eyes, even though he was mid-conversation.

“You’ve got great form, babe.”

A wink accompanied the sentence and she had to look away so that her blush wouldn’t be seen by her coworkers. Or by Quinn.

It did mean that she turned around and focused on her putting, leading to a nice hole-in-one.

At various points throughout the afternoon, Quinn’s hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined in a perfect fit, and it took all her power to not act like it was a strange occurrence; she desperately wanted to get out of her head and enjoy those moments while they lasted.

Her boss, finally taking a break from talking about hockey, asked about how they met. The looks sent Quinn’s way were a discrete panic, but he didn’t seem to be facing the same problem.

“We had the same routine running the Sea Wall—seemed like fate that we kept running into each other when my schedule’s so chaotic, you know?” he answered, providing an entirely accurate retelling that had her shocked he hadn’t opted for something a bit more romantic. “She literally fell for me.”

“Me?” she nearly screeched, any confusion she was feeling or fluttering in her stomach was immediately overtaken by incredulity. “You tripped over a dog lead!”

“You distracted me, what can I say?”

There was some cooing that followed, and Quinn refused to make eye contact despite the cocky smile on his face. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whether it was all just for show.

Her boss ended up winning, after a lot of effort and a competitive nature that would rival anybody Quinn played with or against. She and Quinn shared many sideways glances with raised eyebrows at just how competitive she was.

The world stopped spinning when Quinn leaned in and whispered directly into her ear, “Still beat you, though.”

As they were leaving, Quinn took her hand again. It was so casual that she wasn’t sure any thought had gone into it at all—and with nobody looking their way, it did nothing to heighten their ruse. She glanced down at their hands, too distracted to even say a proper goodbye as Quinn earnestly told everyone he hoped to see them again soon—that also added to her confusion.

The streets of Vancouver were deeply familiar, etched into her brain from a young age with every slight raise in the concrete committed to muscle memory, so she knew that they were headed towards the water and away from either of their apartments the second Quinn chose a direction. The Sea Wall surrounding the city was her favourite part of it with nothing else even coming close.

“Weird time for a run?” she asked. She wiggled her fingers just to test the pressure. Quinn squeezed back. “I don’t want to go for a run right now.”

“Nobody is going for a run,” he said gently. “I didn’t even want to be going for runs but I saw you on that first day and kept going out just in case I’d see you again.”

She screwed up her face, the disbelief that ran through her had her pulling her hand from Quinn’s and huffing, “Don’t be stupid.”

“How am I being stupid?” There was a tinge of hurt in his voice that she so rarely heard; she felt it right in her chest.

“I don’t know, Q. I just don’t believe you went out of your way to find me. That’s not…” Her voice was muffled by the sound of the water rushing against the Sea Wall. “That doesn’t happen in real life. To me.”

Quinn stared at her, seemingly taking in every inch of her face, and she could only imagine the expression she was making. If she looked as pathetic as she felt, she would need to make sure she never saw him again.

“It’s happening to you.” he stressed. “Today was… Today… I’d like today to be every day.”

She had so many things she wanted to say but no ability to make them come out of her mouth. She felt no less pathetic than she did a moment earlier, though she did feel a little more hopeful. It had been a good day, even if confusing, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been wanting something similar since they first met years prior.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re Quinn Hughes? Because you’re the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks? We’ve just spent the entire day with your ass being kissed—you could have your pick of any woman in Vancouver. We’ve been friends for like, what? Three years now and you’ve never—”

“I am now. I don’t want anybody else. I want you. It’s always been you.”

i would very much love to hear your thoughts if you have any, and would love if you'd reblog and share it with some more people <3

[maidenborn]

Detective Love-struck!

Shoto x reader in which Reader discovers a love letter in her locker, and recruits deku to help her. fem reader, maybe oc deku and shoto idk, reader has an older brother, first little fanfic thingy, I haven't written in god knows how long don't burn me at the stake plz

Word count: 1,707

When you were younger, stupider and shameless, you and your only friend Shoto, would play detective during your free time together. At the age of five, you and your comrade had already solved ONE case, the infamous 'who stole older brother's motorbike?!' case, which you and shoto apparently 'took credit for' or whatever that means. Despite how much you swore to your brother how you and Shoto knew where it was before the police. And how you tipped the cops off with your super secret telepathy quirk that no one but shoto knew about.

He responded with a, "well if you're so smart why don't you figure out where my old 3DS is?? by the way, you don't have telepathic powers, forehead." You'd clench your fist every time that cursed nickname left his lips, but anyways, you accepted his challenge, walking away cursing him with the most vulgar name you could think up, telepathically of course. you swear you heard his breath stifle in shock as you stomped off, coincidence? I think not.

Your winning streak of problem solving ended with anger at your rivals, the police down the road, when they refused to let you into the station after you relentlessly demanded that they let you see the files of fifty year-old unsolved homicide case. The next day you sulked to Shoto during lunch, who stared at you with that blank stare he always does."you tried to break in again?" An accusation?!?!?!? The tipping point.

You fake-angry threw your paper cut-out detective badge, that you and your best-friend made during arts and crafts, with all your strength, only for it to slowly flutter to the ground awkwardly. That day you announced your retirement from the force. Claiming all the hard thinking was giving you wrinkles, that only caused shoto to look more confused, tilting his head to the side. "Wrinkles?"

"On my forehead." You huffed.

Your interest for the antics of detectives on tv and corny live-action crime thrillers died off as your ambition and hope to become a real life pro hero ignited, as did your connection with Shoto, even if you started to see him less frequently as the years of your childhood passed by. It was a blessing that you managed to land a place in class 1-A alongside your companion. Your bond reinvigorated, grew stronger as you were reunited with the boy, the lingering figure of his father, Endeavour had dissipated, granting the boy a newfound freedom. You found yourself spending almost all your free time with him now, way more than you ever did when you were kids. And you were grateful for it. So very grateful.

Now, both you and him had matured, albeit not a lot since you were both fifteen, but in a fifteen year olds eyes, it was a lot. The boy's once chubby cheeks now had a more slim-chiseled appearence. His head of hair was the same length, perfectly split down the middle, not one stray hair misplaced on either side. His eyes were more narrowed and stern, still fronting that blank look that his eyes always held. However hard his stare was when he looked at others, he'd never dare look at you with that coldness, whenever he caught himself glancing at you his creased brow would almost immediately flatten. His gaze defrosted into liquid, a softness so delicate and reminiscent of the early days of your relationship. The days where he'd follow you around, craving the warmth of your presence, your smile, you, and everything a five year old brat could offer. In your case, it was friendship.

You and him were two peas in a pod, Detective Shoto and his partner, Sometimes in class you'd daydream about playing detective with him, like how you used to, but you guess you both were a little too old for that now. Besides it's not like there was any mysteries to be solved in the halls of Yuuei.

Not until today.

"a love letter!?!? oh wow!" Deku shrieked a bit too loud for your liking. His whole body shook as he held onto the straps of his backpack. A few students lingering around the halls looked towards the commotion.

"Yeah but shhh!" You leaned closer to the boy pressing your finger to your lips harder and harder. " I don't want anyone to know, it's embarrassinggg! What if they're messing with me? I don't even know who wrote it! I don't wanna get my hopes up you know..." You mumbled that last part, your finger silencing yourself made it hard to talk. You've never been popular with the male species, only ever receiving confessions as jokes from more popular, less disliked, boys. Not that you minded all that, you had a best friend after all, and he was a boy! You were considered popular and you were liked by him!

You tossed your head about to shake the thought of Shoto to no avail. You felt you cheeks heat up. "Can you read it out to me? Maybe they gave a clue as to who they are!" Deku ignored the redness in your face, chalking it up to nervousness. Yeah, you were nervous alright, nervous about what Shoto would think. He's always been relentless in the pursuit of your attention, you couldn't help but wonder how he would react to all this. Would he be mad? No why would he. He has no reason for all that.

You take your time reading out the letter you found in your locker, looking up to meet Izuku's eyes after every sentence, waiting to see if he caught on to any hidden meanings written in-between the lines of the confession. You'd read the letter countless times, scanning over every word to no avail. Only deciding to drag Deku into your conundrum as he was walking past. Whoever had written the letter gave no clue towards their identity. It was just a confession. No 'can you meet me behind the school later today?' or ' will you go out with me? Just an ordinary love letter. Apart from the last section. At the bottom of the paper read a slightly threatening, ominous quote:

"I'll set your heart alight. "

The words made your chest tighten, but not in a good way. It gave you a funny feeling in your stomach, such a normal letter ending so strongly, you were kind of unsettled. "Don't you think that last parts s'a little odd?" You mentioned after finishing up reading. "Kinda sounds like a threat to me." You suddenly gasp, "What if our undercover lover is a villain! They could be plotting to kidnap me ..or worse!" Due to recent events, everyone had the possibility of kidnapping looming over them.

" Umm.. I doubt that a villain could sneak into Yuuei, especially now. I think it was maybe just an attempt romance." Deku chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

"No I seriously thi-

"Yn. Midoriya." Shoto Todoroki stood behind you. You hadn't even noticed him sneaking up on you, whether it was his intention or not, he scared you straight.

"Oh! Hi Shoto!" You calmed yourself, turning your head to make eye contact with him. He only grew closer to you, taking the eye contact as permission to get closer. You could feel the air get hotter as he lingered next to you, reaching his head forward so he could peek at what you were holding so tightly in your hands. His eyes offering no insight to his current emotion whatsoever.

"What is that?" Tilting his head. Suddenly embarrassed you smushed the paper into your chest, crinkling it. "Uhhh.. I got a letter! I don't know who it's from though. Not that it matters." You shrugged. Nice, the nonchalant approach.

"What kind of letter?" He strained his neck for a moment longer before backing up. Face still, ice cold. You sighed at his retreat. Anxiety welling up in your stomach, 'why the hell am I so paranoid for?' You thought.

You were about to dodge the question when Deku asnwered for you, "Its a love letter! From someone unknown, we're actually trying to figure out who it could be from!" At that you crumpled in defeat. Thanks a lot Izuku. Why the hell are you trying to cover it up so much anyways? Huh?!? Your inner monologue accused you.

"Oh." He stepped back even more, No longer feeling his warmth, the hall seemed a whole lot colder without him so close, you urged to scuttle up to him, Only to turn to see Shoto preparing to leave.

"Would you like to help us Sho?" You offered, not wanting him to go so soon. Leaning at the hip towards him, head tilted down, eyes looking up at him.

"No thank you. I have to go, Goodbye Yn, Midoriya, good luck." And at that he started to walk away. You rushed to find something to say, deciding to just let him go, offering a small, "Bye Sho." Along with Izuku's cheery goodbye. 'Was something wrong? Did I do something wrong?' Your spiralling thoughts were soon interrupted by Deku," I wonder what that was all about." The look on Izuku's face mirrored yours, laced with confusion, only less angsty than yours.

"he's probably just busy with assignments or something, wants to get ahead." You chirped, lightening the tension.

"weird of him to turn down an opportunity like this though, he's usually all over this kinda stuff, he's a real hardcore theorist sometimes!... don't tell him I said that."

"oh really?" you jest. Tension dissolved, nice. As if you and him weren't attempting to solve murder mysteries during break time a couple years ago. The memory returning to you, you can't help but feel a little sad.

A couple moments of silence and then, "Ive got it! we could track them down through their handwriting!"

"yeaahhh... but the letters printed!" you retired the letter from your iron grip with an obnoxious groan, provoking a handful of glances from students passing by. "good idea though." You shrink into yourself a little, eye twitchy as you try to disappear through sheer willpower.

"the culprit has thought this out really well.."

"Yeah.. no clues or anything. Apart from the curse at the end."

"Yeah."

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH PLZ LET ME KNOW IF YOU ENJOYED THIS IM WORKINT ON A PART TWO!!!

I don't rlly know how to write stories like this, perchance ill turn it into a mini series or something

part 2

[telekitnetic-art]

inspired by:

someone probably already did this exact poll but idc. we did it with lizzy we can do it again.

[azrail-has-a-vendetta]

I’m going to do it. I’m going to write a Magnus Archives Walmart AU, except no one dies (against company policy) and it’s really just fluff. Here is what me and my friend @aubbitsart have decided everyone’s role is:

Jon: manager

Martin: Works in the Bakery or is the greeter

Elias: dunno what it would be specifically but he is their Boss

Tim: Cashier/restocker

Sasha: customer service (returns and refunds, specifically)

Melanie: restocker/works specifically in the veggie section

Daisy and Basiera: Security (later work in the meat section)

Gerry Key: Cashier/bagger

Micheal Shelly and Helen: Work in the back with unloading and stuff

Breaken and Hope is their delivery people

Common Costumers:

Georgie: regular shopper, buys cat food, regular food and starts dating Melanie (starts to visit more after that)

Jane Prentice: buys random shit that doesn’t go together. Gets put on banned list after a bug incident.

Gertrude Robinson: comes in mostly to visit Gerry and sometimes Micheal, buys normal stuff plus lots of lighter fluid, bleach, and sometimes rope. Everyone is afraid of her.

Peter Lucas: Buys lots of sweets and sometimes just bugs Martin into calling Elias to come pick him up. At first Martian was really discreet about it but after the 5th time just gets on the comms and asks Elias to come pick his boyfriend up.

Annabel Cane: buys lighters and yarn/thread, and witch books

Simon Fairchild: always wearing pride stuff, also always has a rainbow umbrella. Refuses to buy two things of the same color at the same time. Was once found suck on the ceiling, is now on the banned list. He somehow manages to sneak in.

Jude Perry: also on the banned list, caused an accident where Jon got his hand burned. Buys coal, lighter fluid, and various lighters. Doesn’t even hide her intentions. Also buys Little Debbie’s Cosmic Brownies.

Agnes Montegue: shops with her boyfriend, who is actually the nicest person. Likes to invite everyone to bbq’s and Jon has a rule that no one is allowed to attend.

[aubeezz]

Found you through your UT post and oh my stars your use of colors is stunning !! I want to reference your art/coloring to enhance my own, do you have any tips?

Hello :3 sorry for my late reply haha! I was putting this off cuz I don't really follow a lot of basic rules in colouring cuz im lazy BUT . I will however B] gladly show you my awfully rushed attempts at trying to show my process! Featuring my man Nick

Again, my colourings extremely stylized, if you're looking for accurate ways to study I rlly suggest looking up some tutorials on YT or smth haha When I shade, I like to jump between cool and warm tones a lot! I know people often cell shade or do black and whites but im cringe and free

I really rely on the rendering/painting process a lot for my work <:3 Your tones are obv gonna depend on your environment and lighting, but let's pretend we're just doodlin smth random I literally just overlay colours until I'm like "Yes, this looks great to me!" (I say thru tears)

You can see in a lot of my work that I just do a lot of overlapping, usually using 3-4 different shades/tones to colour something specifically Most of the time colouring the lineart or just going over the top of everything with hatches or random lines can make a piece look really good haha I'm sorry if this is hard to understand at all! I'm no good at tutorials or explaining what I do </3 I just go ham and call it a day haha

You're more than welcome to reference my art whenever you colour! :) I think if you wanna get things more accurate though there are plenty tuts on Youtube and around Tumblr! Ty for ur kind words <3

[vhsdruid]

something i get asked about a lot, i hope i did alright explaining my thought process and that its helpful to people. i am opening to answering further questions if you have any. thanks!

[onlyasimp4-2dbitches]

Reblog to make him explode

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to the other : socmed / penpal au

pairing: leon kennedy x reader, ada wong & reader (but with flirting >:)

synopsis: from one admirer to the other, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their email address! However, much like the name... the person you're writing to tends to be the person you actually admire... surely that's not the case for Leon?!

or, in which Leon, a rising model, is truly not immune to the Ada brainrot even as a model and stays up til 3 reading an ongoing 200k fic of Ada x reader written by none other than... you.

and you? best friends with said model, actually. how else do you write so well?

featuring: reader as poachedeggs // leon as rookiecookie // ada as adadadadadad

tweets:

letters:

To scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did. As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, hopefully we can find another middle ground other than Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, ada wong. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me? I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Tell me more about yourself, maybe?

signing off, Christmas

notice: this is a gauge post! if enough people are interested I'll actually plan it! promise. also, ooc warning ofc I just think it'd be fucking hilarious if leon owned a stan twt

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

So, I did a Maladaptive daydreaming and this is what I got:

If anyone doesn’t know what Maladaptive daydreaming means, it’s a very intense daydream that can feel real and can be an escape from reality. You can even daydream about fictional characters(at least I do).

If anyone wants to or is interested in taking the quiz, I’ll link it below:

I meant to spell it Maladaptive

Oopsie