#sandy for ts

[dearru]

₊˚ෆ  thinking about how disgustingly in love you are with your boyfriend, hinata shoyo | wc: 952 | fluff (sfw) | gn!reader x ts!hinata shoyo | mlist

THE BRAZILIAN SUN beats down on your back, beads of sweat dripping down your swimsuit-clad skin. Your bare feet carry you along the familiar sand-lined path of your local beach, and you pay no mind to how they burn under the hot ground. 

When you reach the end of the walkway, you spot your boyfriend, Hinata Shoyo. He’s by the volleyball nets, as always. And you can tell he’s just finished a match from how his chest heaves and eyes blaze with a resolute glow. 

You laugh. He’ll stay out here all night if you don’t steal him away now. 

“Sho!” you call, waving as you jog toward him. 

He looks up, face flushed a brilliant scarlet, and it reminds you of the tomatoes you spent ages slicing for dinner last night. You two had originally planned on going out, you’d even chosen a place, but the thought of that disappeared once Shoyo burst into your shared apartment with tousled hair and hands full of burstingly ripe fruit. 

You smile at the memory. If you focus hard enough, you can still taste the vibrant flavors of the salad you made just for him– the crunchy hearts of palm, the sharp, tangy vinaigrette. You can still feel Shoyo’s nearness, see his lovestruck gaze from across the table, smell his sun-stained hair. 

He made you glad you stayed in. He made your sore fingers worth it. 

“Hey!” he beams, still presumably breathless from playing, “I thought you had work today.” 

“I called out.” 

He hums, mouth making an animated ‘o’ shape. Behind you, you hear a resonant whistle echo across the courts. Another match is starting. Shoyo twitches at the sound. You bite back a laugh. 

There’s something about being around him that makes you incapable of not smiling. It’s like his secret superpower. 

“Got any time for me today?” you ask, cheeks already aching.

You gasp when he swoops you up into his arms, capturing your lips in a warm kiss. The scent of the aloe vera you’d rubbed on his sunburns this morning tickles your nose and sends heat through you. 

His touch is a thousand times hotter than any Brazilian summer. 

He pulls away too soon. The loss of feeling has you aching for more, and you know he can tell from how his head reels back with laughter. 

“I always have time for you,” he grins, his thumb brushing a stray eyelash from your face. 

It’s not long before you two are lying out across the sun-warmed sand, your hands tracing Shoyo’s hair with soft affection as he rests between your plush thighs. You sigh, gazing out to admire the picturesque horizon. The sun lumbers in the distance, slowly casting brilliant orange hues across the sandy landscape. Waves from the endless ocean crash in the background, and you hum in contentment. 

You could stay here forever.  

Eventually, your eyes lead back to Shoyo, who’s stretched out on you like a lazy golden retriever, tucked comfortably in your grasp. You cherish the calm still of this moment, using it to marvel at his handsome features. His azure tank top lines his rigid frame perfectly, revealing all his strong lines and tanned skin. It makes your heart swell. 

You can’t believe he’s yours. 

“Hey,” you murmur, biting back a smile, “I got you something.” 

His ears perk with curiosity, “You did?”

You nod, lips twitching up. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

He doesn’t hesitate. With the enthusiasm of a child waiting for a surprise, he springs up from your lap and spins around to face you. His eyes squeeze shut, body practically buzzing with excitement. 

You go to fish the object out of your bag, and your fingers wrap around a braided leather necklace tucked at the bottom. As you bring it out, you’re suddenly all too aware of how simple the piece is. The cheap beads and thin fabric don’t seem worthy of his infectious glee.

“Uh– it’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you,” you say sheepishly, tenderly pressing the jewelry into his palms. 

He opens his eyes, glancing down at the necklace. For a moment, he pauses. You swallow hard, breath catching.

Then, he laughs. 

“I love it!” he exclaims, surging forward to attack you with kisses. “You always give the best gifts.” 

You bite your cheek, face warming. “It’s just something I got from a street vendor. I’ll get you something better later–”

“No,” he shakes his head, “This is perfect.” 

“I’m glad you like it, Sho,” you smile, relief spreading across your body.

You gesture for him to turn around, and he obeys right away. Your fingers brush the nape of his neck as you clasp the necklace around his skin, your lingering touch soft and gentle. 

“Thanks,” he sighs, still facing the sun but now tilting his head back to look at you. 

He stares at you with a sudden intensity that makes you shiver, eyes boring into yours. It’s filled with a revere that steals your breath away. It’s the same look he gives you before you share a meal together, or when you’re curled under the covers about to turn in for the night. It’s a look he reserves only for you.  

“I love you,” he says, voice low and dripping with sincerity. 

Your chest floods with emotion, so full it hurts. You’re overwhelmed by how much being with Shoyo makes you feel. He always manages to make your heart tug with a powerful ache. His simple devotion and unwavering joy fills you with a thirst for more. He makes you want more. Always. 

But you’ll settle with watching the sunset together for now.

“I love you, too.” 

–a/n: i love you hinata shoyo. happy birthday.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine is infatuated with you and when you happen to be at the same hotel he's in, his need for you grows.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: swearing, kinky, masturbation (m & f), praise, degradation, fingering, penetration (f using a dildo), no actual penetrative sex, exhibitionism, pet names, Tangerine feels shame at times, mentions of corruption, kinda innocent!reader, it's implied reader has long-ish hair.

~ this idea was stuck in my head for SO long 🫣 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

Tangerine knows it isn't entirely moral—watching some pretty girl play with herself on camera and donating money. It's filthy and if he's honest, that really only makes the entire situation so much more of a turn-on. 

"The fuck ya want your own room for?" Lemon deadpans, staring at his brother like he's insane. "Ts' wasting money! C'mon, I don't snore that loudly!"

Tangerine looks at the poor woman working the front desk and then he turns to Lemon. His expression is blank. "You do snore," he says simply and then slides the woman his shiny, golden card. Lemon rolls his eyes so far it looks almost painful and he sulks. He hits Tangerine in the shin with his boot, which causes the taller man to hiss in pain. 

"Perv," Lemon whispers with a smirk. His brother's reasons for wanting a separate room aren't lost on him. 

"Piss off," Tangerine mouths, his eyes dark as the woman puts his card information into the computer. 

"You could use the bathroom, you know—like a normal fuckin' person." Lemon grumbles in annoyance. It's Tangerine's turn to roll his eyes and when the woman hands him his card, he takes his suitcase and wordlessly walks to the elevator. 

Once he's in his room, he discards his coat and walks to the bathroom to wash up. He checks his watch; he has ten minutes to spare. He looks at the cheap motel bed from the open bathroom door and his eyebrows crease.

It doesn't look comfortable—but it should do. 

Tangerine then turns to look at himself in the mirror and prays that whatever God is up there forgives him for the sins he's going to commit. He walks out in only a pair of boxers and props up his laptop on some pillows as he grumbles and shifts to find the most comfortable position.

His cheeks are flushed crimson and his lips are thinned into a line. This is humiliating, he thinks, this little ritual he has for himself every Thursday evening. He can't help himself. You're just so pretty—so tempting and so lovely. 

Tangerine's fingers dance over his keyboard as they had done a thousand times. He finds the link and an all-too-familiar screen pops up. However, this time, your decor is drastically different and it causes his heart to pound as he shifts.

Immediately, he recognizes that sandy-colored wallpaper and the mahogany headboard behind you. He turns around and sees his own. 

No way. 

He's distracted by the way you shift on the screen, your hands nestled in between your stubble thighs as your hair falls over your shoulders. You're dressed in a white lingerie dress, the one that makes your tits look amazing and you shift the camera up and he sees your face. Tangerine's chest tightens and his boxers already feel three sizes too small.

Fuck.

Tangerine drops his head against the headboard, squeezing his eyes shut to suppress all kinds of emotions he's feeling until he hears your smooth voice. "Sorry for the background change," you giggle, moving your laptop again, and Tangerine opens his eyes to see how flushed you look. "Business has taken me elsewhere for this week," you joke and he chuckles.

A surge of possessiveness courses his veins as he imagines other men laughing at your joke. Hearing your voice and seeing you like this. It drives him insane.

"Alright, for tonight, I think I want to use this," you say and hold up a vibrating pink dildo. It causes Tangerine a heart attack and he inhales, his hand already itching to relieve the tension in his dick. He curses himself and focuses on listening to your voice, "What do you think?" you ask the camera, biting down on your lip. 

Usually, Tangerine would jump at the opportunity to answer you in the chat, or he'd already send in a tip, but tonight he can barely form coherent thoughts much less focus on typing.

You read out some answers, spreading your thighs so the camera has access to your pussy. Tangerine's dick twitches and he mutters a quick, "Fuck," and then presses his palm into his dick, content with the pressure for the time being as he doesn't want to rush this.

He stares at the screen, his chest heaving, as he sees you tentatively press the dildo to your lips, your eyes wide for the camera. "Just like this?" you whisper innocently, clearly answering what the chat wants. Tangerine doesn't bother reading the comments. Instead, he pretends it's just you and him. You lick your tongue up the dildo and he grips his cock over his boxers. He's fully hard now.

His mind is filled with questions and images. He wonders what motel room you're in. If you're close or far from him? He wonders if you'd let him fuck you on camera if he found you? Make it into some corrupt game, with you being his prize in the end.

Tangerine pulls his dick from his boxers, spitting in his hand and then stroking once—twice. He grunts, staring at how you suck around the dildo, your cheeks are flushed and you have that gone look in your eyes. He imagines how you'd look under him, staring up at him with that very same expression, your pink pouty lips just begging for his fucking cock.

"Oh, please, fuck me," he hears you say, his hands tightening around his dick as he fucks into his hand with more desperation. "I wish it was your cock," you whimper, addressing all your viewers but Tangerine takes the invitation personally as he moans and his movement becomes faster and faster. 

You look so desperate and needy, so pretty and innocent for him and only him as the vibrations from the dildo hum from his laptop and your movements become a little sloppy. You're moaning, your eyes squeezed shut as more comments roll in.

Tangerine scoffs at them. These men don't know how to speak to women, he thinks, biting his lip as he shifts and holds his dick tightly. You deserve someone who can compliment you correctly. 

As if timed, when he presses send on his comment, your eyes flutter open and you look at the chat. Tangerine grunts as he pulls at his cock, catching some pre-cum on his thumb, watching your glossy, bliss-filled eyes light up even more as you read his comment. He knows it's his because you add pressure to your clit with your other hand. 

"Caress that pretty clit for me, angel. You deserve it,"

You like being told what to do. Almost none of your regular viewers have caught on like he has. They're too preoccupied with their dirty talk and their pleasure to notice how much you respond to praise. Tangerine grins, your pleasure intensifying his own as you moan loudly, the pressure feeling heavenly.

He watches with rapt attention as the vibrating dildo enters your slick hole, the camera placed perfectly for his enjoyment, as your moans fill his ears and your wetness travels down your thighs.

God, all he wants is to press his face in between them, kissing you exactly how you deserve, and having your hand pull at his hair like they squeeze this shitty motel's sheets. 

He craves it. 

He wants to cum but he wants to cum with you so as his hand works his cock, he pays attention to your expressions. He knows them all by now. He's always been observant.

Once you bring your lower lip in between your teeth and arch your back, your thighs trembling and your movements faltering, Tangerine knows you've come and with a moan, he allows himself to finish all over his hand and thighs. It's exhilarating, watching you come and doing it with you.

His chest is heaving up, his skin glistening with sweat and shame. He feels the stickiness on his hand and he watches with lidded eyes as you shift and bring the cum covered dildo to your mouth.

Tangerine groans again, his heart beating loudly in his ear. He comes to just in time to stumble for his laptop and leave a generous well-deserved tip.

Your eyes turn to your screen as you're about to go offline and he swears he sees you smile at his note that accompanies the payment.

"800£ - for my angel,"

Tangerine leans back on the pillows as his screen turns black and your home screen appears. Sometimes he wishes he wasn't anonymous and that you'd know it's him from something other than the recurring pet name he calls you. Fuck. He runs a hand down his jaw and fully comes down from his high. 

He needs a shower. 

* * *

The next morning, Lemon is waiting for him in the lobby. He's leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he sucks in his breath. Unlike his brother, who walks over with that familiar frown, Lemon looks well-rested. "Well, who took a shit in your cuppa this morning', sunshine?" he scoffs as he uncrosses his arms and pushes himself off the wall. 

Tangerine jaw clenches. "Shove it," he grumbles and rubs his temples. 

"C'mon! Isn't wanking off supposed to help with your shitty mood—" Lemon chuckles but the look Tangerine gives him makes him shut his mouth and raise his hand in surrender.

He turns to the front desk and adds, "Been wanting to check out since 6 fuckin' am—but this bird is having some trouble paying. It's real fuckin' annoying."

Tangerine looks to the desk and his heart jumps in his chest. He feels like someone has just punched him in the gut and stomped all over his heart. He sees your profile, your hair spilling down a little messily.

His eyes travel downwards to the curve of your breasts in your cream cardigan and how your calves peek out from underneath your long-flowing skirt.

You're gorgeous, and oh so very upset. 

Without a word to Lemon, Tangerine walks over and catches bits of your conversation with the woman at the desk as you try to hand her your credit card.

God, his dick twitches at the sound of your voice and he has to control himself from reaching out his hand to touch you.

"I promise it worked just yesterday," you plead, your voice shaky in a way that breaks Tangerine's heart, but the woman isn't having your excuses. 

In very dramatic fashion, he swoops in like a devilish white knight and hands the woman his card. You jump at the sensation of someone's warmth next to you and look up, cheeks warm as you open your mouth to protest the heroic gesture but Tangerine speaks instead,

"Don't ya worry, I'll take care of it, angel." 

Time stands still as he looks into your eyes, a small smirk creeping up his lips. His blue eyes twinkle as his boldness surprised even himself and he wonders if you'll understand. He sees confusion cross your face and then when realization dawns, your eyes round and he expects maybe a shy gasp or even a smack in the face.

Instead you smile sweetly and his heart leaps so far it threatens to run away. 

Smart fuckin' girl.   

[zot3-flopped]

Reading that article from the sunday times and just gagging:

"Upstairs, in a corner room, was where she asked for three books to be read and five songs to be played to her every night",

"According to family friends they drove a Chevrolet Suburban — an SUV fit for the secret service — sent Christmas cards showing their impressive holidays and brought their daughter’s pony to school for show and tell.",

"The family would also give teachers the keys to their holiday home as a thank-you present.",

"They had a hot tub on the patio, a jetty with a boat from which they waterskiied and two jet skis. They were also members of the sailing club.",

"“When Taylor was young, the family came over for dinner and the kids were all swimming,” Hand says. “They [Swift’s parents] asked me if I had the Disney channel and I said no. There was some country singer on that was Taylor’s idol — and so they got up and they left.”,

"Her father, Scott, now 72, grew up nearby. He was a financial adviser at the investment firm Merrill Lynch. Swift’s mother, Andrea, now 66, was a marketing executive born into a wealthy family who grew up between Singapore and Houston, Texas. Andrea’s father was the president of a construction company, her mother an opera singer.",

"A third-generation banker and former radio salesman, he updated them on which songs she had cut (I am told he spent $10,000 on building her a recording studio at their home); which singles were coming out next (by the age of 15, Taylor had a record deal with a company in which Scott had bought a 3 per cent stake); where she was touring (he had bought Cher’s former tour bus for her); and the awards for which she needed votes.",

"During the long, hot summer days Swift would walk through town, her guitar slung across her back, much to the judgment of the local girls.",

"Swift gave out wallet-sized photos of herself as Sandy to the kids in the years below her at school",

"Her notebook, he claims, was filled with pages of her own autograph.",

"Many, however, thought she was “a bit of a brat”, from the moneyed side of town and modelling clothes for Abercrombie & Fitch. At 16, Swift bought a Lexus SC430 convertible, the car driven by Regina George, the meanest girl in Mean Girls.",

"Swift made an entrance when she first arrived at Hendersonville High School, says a former classmate, telling people she was going to be a star. “We kind of rolled our eyes because, being in Nashville, we hear that a lot,” she says. “It was just such a strong statement for someone of that age.”

Underdog who??? Tbh it's not just TS being obnoxious, rich, spoiled brat flaunting her wealth left and right, it's her entire immediate family.

“There were times when, in middle school and junior high, I didn’t have a lot of friends,” she told the Great American Country network in 2008." damn, I wonder why. /s

Classic nepo baby.

[once-and-future-loser]

I think my favorite thing about Max Verstappen is not his: three world titles, love of cats, numerous records, human decency, fantastic thighs and tits, sandy blonde hair, giant beautiful nose, or piercing blue eyes, but the fact that when he goes on vacation/holiday he wears apparel themed by his (and my) favorite non-redbull drink. The gin and tonic. Like, so wild to me that (whether he purchased those or they were gifts) he loves G&Ts so much that he wears swim trunks with them on it. It's just so endearing to me.

[mechs-headcanons]

colors I associate with the crew:

Jonny: red/black like his nails

nastya: blue/teal like her hair

ivy: red

Raphaella: green ??? I think ??? Like mad scientist green

ashes: dark red

Brian: gold/gold orange

Tim: brown

Marius: red again

the toy soilder: red again

I realized that most of them are red but they all have a lot of red in their outfits 😔

mmm i’m gonna compare mine:0 (i have synesthesia so mine are more inspired by their voices and general vibes) ALSO I HAD TO RESTART THIS POST HALFWAY THROUGH HHH :,33

jonny — orange, usually sandy but it sometimes goes more amber. :}

nastya — also blue/teal but it also has a green-grey tint

ivy — reddish pink, like a raspberry colour

raphaella — raphaella is actually a gold bronze to me? maybe it’s cause i’m going off of her voice but she’s a very elegant colour in my head

ashes — orange or a charcoal. probably both. like when the fire has burnt out and you’re left with charr and embers. she also has some purple, surprisingly enough

brian — green, cause yk, hang man rusts :D he also smells like rust remover

tim — tan/beige

marius — green and reddish brown, idk why 🤷

TS — bright red w gold :D

[the-tortured-artists-department]

TS Red Carpet Madness: Round 1, Matchup 21

Our twenty-first matchup is a mix between newer and older looks! Be sure to follow tsredcarpetmadness for all upcoming polls!

I really appreciate all reblogs! It helps get a bigger sample size for each poll & always keeps things more exciting 🫶🏼

It's the weekend! So two polls today! Click here for second poll.

[baby-alien11]

Y/N Ulrich Universe First Anniversary

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @camiesully @ethanlandryluver @nowitsmissing @aliciacat20 @gabbylovesreading @nikfigueiredo @itsaaliyah2

She got the title of the 'Ghostface Princess' when she started to do content of Scream on social media

The title of 'Serpent Princess' was because the cast f Riverdale started to call her that during filming and interviews

While rehearsing for Carrie: The Musical, she was Chris Hargenssen while Spencer, her boyfriend at the time, was playing Tommy Ross, and during one rehearsal, she pulled the rope with the bucket (empty) and accidentally hit him in the back, he was okay, only a bruise for a few days (they broke up in january because he moved to Iowa)

The one sided feud with Kira started because she thought Y/N last name was weird and funny, until she found out who was her father

Sometimes when she doesn't have space in her room or closet, she uses her siblings room as storage room

She knows how to play piano

Her favorite book series is PJO and The Selection

Her favorite fashion houses are Vivienne Westwood and D&G

She became a TS fan during 2011 after seeing the music video of Our Song, and the rest is history, she has been to three tours: 1989 with her family and friend group, the Rep Stadium Tour again with family and friend group, and recently to The Eras Tour with Jack

The first horror movie she saw wasn't Scream, it was Alien

Her first kiss was with Sarah, before entering high school they were talking on how both of them haven't had their fisrt kiss yet, so they decided to kiss so that way they didn't regret having it with some other person

She already knows that when her wedding day comes, the song for the dad-daughter dance is going to be 'Never Grow Up' by TS or 'Slipping Through My Fingers' fom ABBA, Skeet agreed to that because the songs makes him emotional

She was in the teather club since elementary school, participating in Beauty and the Beast as Plumette, Grease as Sandy, The Little Mermaid as Vanessa, Matilda as Matilda, Bring It On as Eva, Hairspray as Penny, Les Mis as Cosette, West Side Story as Graziela, Carrie The Musical as Chris Hargenssen, her last role was going to be Sophie in Mamma Mia until pandemic started

Once a year, Y/N and her siblings have a small golf competition

Her first fashion campaign was with Kate Spade at 14

One ime during the filming of Scream VI, Melissa and Xavier adopted her for a day having a family day

The first thing she bought with her first salary as a Riverdale extra was her Prada nylon purse and bobba tea

(This is going to hurt) Luke Perry was like a second father to her, when Skeet had to film a violent scene, he would always distract her, helping her with homework or things like that, also attending her school plays, so when he died, she didn't left her room for a week because she coulnd't stop crying,even if the memorial was held at the Ulrich household, and when TS released evermore, she did a cover of Marjorie in his honor that she posted on Tik Tok

Her favorite movie is Corpse Bride, and always cries during the Emily song and the final scene

Her campaigns with brands include Pretty Little Thing, H&M, Coach, Hot Topic, Kate Spade, Killstar, Rare Beauty, Nyx, Charlotte Tilbury, alo, BaiBai Jewerly, Oh Polly, Tous, Armani, Club L London, Petco (ft Tatum), Dolls Kill, Cloe, KitchenAid

Her fashion icons are Zendaya, Cher, Princess Diana, Rihanna, Audrey Hepburn, Lewis Hamilton, Bratz, Monster High, Nicole Kidman, Blake Lively, Marilyn Monroe, Salma Hayek, Grace Kelly, Anne Hathaway

The love for VFX make up started when Skeet was telling her BTS facts about Scream, and it considelating during season two of Riverdale while helping with Cole Sprouse make up at the end of season two when he is beaten up by the Ghoulies

Besides the Southside Serpents leather jacket, she has a Vixens uniform (and all the variations), a Bulldogs football shirt, a Jughead beanie, a Pops uniform, Pussycats ears, a S shirt, letterman jacket, a Pretty Poisons jacket, and a 'Farm' shirt

Due to having family in NASCAR and with interest on racing, she learnt to drive at fourteen, and also knows how a motorcycle works

She (as almost everyone), had an 'all black clothes' phase, until she missed combining it with colorful clothes

Her favorite youtube horror cannels are dead meat and CZsWorld, and non-horror are uncarley, WatchMojo and Ms Mojo, Wait in the Wings, Spill Sesh, haylo hayley, Tea Spill

After meeting Jack, the song that she started to hear in her head was 'Enchanted'

Her first Ghostface mask was gifted by Wes Craven, after Skeet called him to tell him she watched the movies, the next week she recieved the mask with a handwritten letter

A F1 driver tried to hit on her two days after her 18 birthday, she left him on read (we all know who was at this point)

As almost every nepo baby, she got a bit of hate when she started to be a public figure, but ignored them, until they started to talk about her relationship with Jack and she couldn't ignore them

She knows all the Riverdale musical numbers and coreographies from season one to season five episode three

Since becoming best friends Y/N, Sarah and Abby anways practiced coreographies during sleepovers, the last time they presented them, where at the halloween party doing Sexy by Mean Girls Musical, Vigilante Shit by TS (chairs included) and Honey, Honey from Mamma Mia (ABBA)

Her favorite F1 teams are RB, Mercedes and Ferrari and drivers are Sergio 'Checo' Pérez, Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, Michael and Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Dorianne Pin, Abbi Pulling, Pierre Gasly, Niki Lauda, Alex Albon, Yuki Tsonuda, Carlos Sainz Jr, Charles Leclerc, and queen Susie Wolff, and has extreme admiration for Romain Grosjean for getting out of the car on fire

Her phone case is the Casetify snake one, she just changes it depending on the model of phone she uses

[jll3943-blog]

Some of those who came before us

FIs Bigwood Twins- 1920s FI Marilyn Marks

FI Addriene 1933 Harvey Lee FI Gary Webb Late 1940's

Danny La Rue Irish 1950s FI FI Chicken 1950s

FI Denise Capucine 1950s

FI Gayle Powers 1950s FI Sandy Karina 1956

FI Vicki Lynn-Teaserama 1955 Varietease poster with Vickie Lynn

FI Sandy Karina 1956 TS Marie-Pierre Pruvot, Bambi 1960s

FI Lynne Robberts 1961 FIs Kay, Yvonne, Julie 1986

FI Frankie Bennett FI Michelle Emanuel 1972

Stefania Visconti- Italian transgendered actress

[frogs-stealing-sleep]

hello, could you draw a Sandy Shocks? i´ts a pokemon

I sure as hell can try! :D this is my attempted doodle of Sandy shocks the shapes sure where shapes

If you like past paradox Pokemon check out the bug!

(I'm sorry I don't have the motivation for a full drawing rn :') )

[wildimaginationus]

JTTW x Demon Slayer

a strange crossover that occurred to me of Demon Slayer and JTTW (More specific JTTW: Conquering the Demons) very strange but interesting.

Tanjiro—Sun Wukong

Nezuko—Tang Sanzang

Zenitsu—Bajie

Inosuke—Sha Wujing/Bonzo Sha/Sandy

Jsjsjsjs I imagine Sun Wukong with a wooden box on his back where he carries a sleeping Tang Sanzang×××××××××××××××××××

God/person/Demon Hunter—What do you have in that box?

SW—To Shifu

TS— Mmmm (^^)/

[ginevrastilinski-ocs]

🌟+ Nate

He published his first book (which is a collection of short stories btw) in the summer between s3 and s4 just after his graduation. He dedicated it to his sisters and his parents btw. I definitely need to talk/make an edit about Nate's books

So many times he wakes up with one (or more) of his sisters sleeping besides him bc they sneak in his bed everytime they can't sleep (can be nightmares, can be period pains, can be I just don't want sleep alone tonight or I woke up earlier and I feel comfortable around you so I'm getting an hour more of sleep here)

His sister April has been a Swiftie since the very beginning and it just grew up in the family tbh. She's the one that always picks the music in the car when Nate (or their parents, but mostly Nate ngl) rides all the sibilings to school, so everyone knows very well TS' songs lol. Also why Nate's audition song is a TS one, he wasn't supposed to sing that but he freaked out for a second and went with that bc it feels like home.

When canon starts, the Simmons family have a golden retriver named Sandy (named by Nate after Sandy Olsson ofc) and a back cat named Shakespeare by Cami but they will eventually get more pets bc they deserve it.

His favourite holiday is Christmas but if you personally ask him he would respond his grandmother's birthday. All the Simmons cousins reunite for it every year (they don't celebrate Thanksgiving but Margherita's birthday is near it so they celebrate this instead)

Also, Margherita is his favourite extended family member. The second place is for his cousin Robert, aka Bo. (I said extended family bc his sisters and his parents are completely above and outside this list, he loves them too much to put a lable on it)

He's basically cinnamon addicted. There's a very specific brand of cinnamon cookies that he absolutely adores and it's always a good way to make him eat something.

He has watched all the MCU movies since Iron Man got out bc Ava has been a marvel comics lover all her life lol. Even if it's not his usual movie genre he likes them.

He has a nickname for every of his sister, even the ones that have a short name, and that's how he saved them on his phone. Camille is Cami, April is April May (yes, it's a joke on the months lol), Ava is Avie, Judith is Jude (on the phone is Hey Jude after the song), Daphne is Daphs, Dorothy is Dottie and Rue is Little Rue. Outside Jude and Cami, that use the nickname with anyone, the other sisters have a very strict rule about it and only Nate (or occasionally their parents) can call them that.

Nate&Blaine&Kurt stopped being idiots and finally realized there was something going on is all bc Nate's little sister Jude told them. She went to them with her no-filter false innocence and said something like "I don't get it. If you all like each other, and don't say otherwise please I have eyes I can see that, why don't you just all date? You act like you're together anyway". It was a shock for them at first but oh well it worked so that's fine.

[virgilmoira]

P.A.R.A-SITE DUMPING!!!

Another one of my silly OC stories!

P.A.R.A-SITE is where I put all of my Decaying Winter OCs! Just like how DW goes, these lil' goons are in a barren winter apocalypse and they're kinda just forced to survive. There's a lot of stuff going on though like the big megacorp Hivemind trying to take over or the fight going on with AXIS and The Sovereigns and stuff is always going to shit for them somehow-

The P.A.R.A in P.A.R.A-SITE stands for Pulverisation of All Reikgons uhhh......... I'LL THINK OF THE OTHER A ONE DAY-

This tale specifically follows a group of 19 people from all different factions! Some may be genuinely working together, maybe forced to be there due to circumstance, or maybe they have some ulterior motives but who knows!

These are all drawings composed from uhhhhhh grabs papers 2022 - now

Holy crap that's actually shorter than I thought...

OC CREDITS!!

Ann (Hive from picture 2!)

Sandy (my sister!) (TS from picture 2!!!)

[hyperfixationstation128]

Chapter Five: Shackles to Shackles

Rating: E (Meet-cute)

Summary: Finally set free after a brief stay in jail, Arcane sets out into Waterdeep to continue her search for her grandfather's amulet, running into a rather strange, arrogant man along the way.

Words: 7,339

This is a bit of a longer chapter, but I hope you guys don't mind that too much. I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm excited to continue! Keep reading beneath the break.

The days had always seemed to pass all too quickly to Arcane. Night quickly falling during the days she had laid in the sun, pleasantly selfish, pleasantly unburdened. She had always made sure to cherish those days she spent languidly sprawled across the warm sand or floating freely in the ocean. But now the cold damp of Waterdeep’s cells held her captive. Rigid stone bracing her sore back, the soft, rhythmic pitter patter of some far off leak echoing throughout her cell.

‘Imprisoned for suspicion of piracy and participating in the slave trade’ That was her sentence. Destined to rot here until the city’s Magisters, the ever elusive Black Robes, deliberated over her fate. Arcane tried her best not to let her mind wander to darker places, struggling to fight back the negative thoughts and fears that plagued her thoughts. So there she sat. For three days, falling into three nights, awaiting sentencing.

It wasn’t all bad, she supposed, somehow managing to befriend the guard posted outside her cell door. A fellow Daggerford native, who’s accent was thicker than her own. Judging from the way his “Ts” turned to “Ds”, she wagered he was from the upper side of town, near the castle. And he carried himself with such assuredness, it was almost astounding. Years of service in Waterdeep’s city guard honing him into hard, aged, but warm sun-soaked stone. Not to mention, he had a great laugh.

It was he who delivered the news of her sentence on the third night of her time in jail. With a beaming smile, he hauled open the squealing iron bars, his arm warmly opening, presenting her freedom.

“Sentenced to time served due to acts of liberation and heroism; sentenced to a week’s probation for damages caused to Waterdeep’s docks.” That is what he said, clapping an arm to her shoulders, eyes beaming with pride. Like he always knew she was innocent, like he’d be tormented for the rest of his days if she was forced to serve a longer sentence.

He led her through the prison and out into the courtyard, the light of the setting sun stinging her eyes as she adjusted to the largely missed brightness. Upon entering the courtyard, she was greeted by a crowd. The familiar faces of the freed slaves once more cheering for her as the irons clasped over her wrists were unshackled only for a new shackle to be fastened to her ankle. Arcane couldn’t help but roll her eyes. A tracking spell? Really?

 She was swarmed by them, their gratitude pouring forth in waves of thanks and hugs. She had to admit, she felt rather out of place in the group. She’d never before been hailed as a hero, though she couldn’t deny the warm sun of pride that nestled in her belly.

The merriment slowly quieted to a soft murmur as a small elf child approached Arcane, her large sandy-colored eyes wide and glittering in the sun’s soft orange setting light. She held something behind her hands and she chewed on her lip, shuffling closer. Arcane knelt down to get on her level. Save for the different eyes, the girl reminded her of sweet baby Niamh, her brother.

From behind her back, the girl presented what she was hiding. The tattered and sea-faded tricorne hat she’d taken from the Captain. She held it up to Arcane’s face, her feet digging into the soil below. “You… you dropped this when they took you.” her voice was feather-soft, demure.

Arcane gingerly took the hat, examining it in her hands. The bitter memories tasted sour on her tongue. She couldn’t believe she ever let that horrid man lay hands on her. Catching herself getting lost in thought, she noticed her tightened grip on the hat that threatened to rip it in half. She swallowed her anger and sighed, eyes returning to the little girl.

“What’s your name, wee one?” She tried her best to sound gentle, the remnants of her edge still clinging to her voice. She sounded commanding without meaning to.

“A-Arpina.”

Arcane smiled, her face softening, and raised the hat above the girl’s head, gingerly settling over her strawberry blonde hair. “Arpina… that’s a good name. A warrior’s name.” She placed her hand over the hat, accidentally pushing it over the girl’s eyes. “Will you do me a favor, Arpina?”

The girl giggled, lifting the hat to clear her vision, peering up at Arcane and nodding.

“Never, ever let anyone take you against your will again. You fight with everything you have, hear?” She touched her knuckle to Arpina’s chin, her tone softer this time; that jagged edge melting away at the sight of the child’s smile. She stood up straight, just in time to see another elf and a gnome approaching, a heavy satchel in their hands.

“We found this amid the wreckage. We figured it was yours.” One of them said, presenting the gift to Arcane.

She took the satchel, opening it to reveal her belongings, long since thought to be lost to the destruction. Relief-overed joy surged through her as she shoved her hand into the bag and pulled out the one thing she worried had been lost to the waves. Her grandfather’s day coat. Its once vibrant colors and embroidered designs now faded and frayed. She didn’t care. She pulled the coat over her shoulders and pressed her nose against the lapels. Salty seawater and muck assaulted her nostrils, but there, beneath the foul smell, was Grandfather. The faded scent was almost enough to wash away the torment of the past few days. Almost.

The crowd dispersed soon after, a few hanging behind to tell Arcane their story, to thank her personally, before disappearing into the city. Now, she was left alone. Nothing but her returned belongings and new anklet to show for her efforts. She exhaled softly, looking around before setting off into the city herself. She knew, in the back of her mind, she had to locate her grandfather’s amulet, but first… she needed a godsdamned drink!

West of Castle Waterdeep, there sat a tavern. Possibly the best tavern in the entire city! Or at least, it was to Gale, who made it his frequent stopping point. A wonderfully rowdy place fit for any young man looking to spill a few tankards amongst peers. It was where he found himself tonight, joined by two people who deemed him tolerable enough to consider a friend, chattering among themselves while he sat quietly and listened, chiming in with the occasional joke or witty remark. He found the camaraderie to be a welcome distraction from the memories of the ship crash three days ago… and the fate of the disappearing woman aboard it.

The night had only just begun, the beginning plans to drink all night littering the table. Gale had been laughing at a joke, lifting his flaggon to his lips to take a sip, when the sound of the door to the tavern groaned, alerting all inside to the entry of a newcomer.

Gale’s eyes quickly flicked to the door for a moment, barely enough time to take full note of the person entering… were it not for familiar flash chestnut brown hair streaking across his peripherals. He nearly choked, doing a double take, craning his neck over the crowd to get a better view.

It was her! It was the woman from the ship! Gale could scarcely believe his eyes, taking a moment to examine just how much he’d had to drink to ensure he wasn’t imagining her in a drunken stupor. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Gale!” One of his peers, Merletta, leaned into his field of view, golden eyes obscuring the woman behind her. “What’s got you all riled up?”

Gale barely paid Merletta any mind, continuing to stretch and lean to look past her. “I think I see someone I know… or, at the very least, someone I should!” He quickly stood, his hand on Merletta’s shoulder to gently move her out of his way and walking past his friend to get a better look. His curiosity was already previously piqued by her actions on the water, but now it was gnawing at his thoughts. He wasn’t quite sure what it was that drew him to her: Be it the magic he witnessed her bend to her will, or the burning questions about the aftermath of the crash that plagued his mind, it mattered not. He simply had to meet her, congratulate her, even!

She looked weary, a ragged coat draped loosely from her form as she strode across the tavern. Dark, heavy circles lined a pair of impressive pale blue-green eyes. Her dark hair, once blowing wildly in a storm, was now pulled into a high, messy knot on her head, revealing a freckle-kissed - and, he had to admit, beautiful - face. She approached the bar where she slumped onto a stool and laid her head on the counter, her hand raising in the air as she called for a drink. He took a moment to decide whether or not he should approach her while his feet carried him mindlessly, his mind racing with opening lines to use as a greeting. He had made it halfway to her when his eyes landed on the prominent silver anklet that wrapped around her left boot.

‘My, my’, he chuckled to himself. ‘I’ll bet that will make for an interesting conversation!’ Excitement fluttered in his chest as he continued to make his way to her, still sifting through greetings. He mumbled to himself:

“Hello, my name’s Gale and I was watching you- no, no, you’ll sound like some callous voyeur!” He chastised himself. “Hello, I’m new and you’re Gale- what? Gods, man, get your head straight!” He had made it to the bar, seating himself a few feet away from her. With hands resting on the counter, he stared at the row of wooden kegs that lined the shelves, eyes flitting from the wall, to the woman, and back again.

She was turned away from him, heavy head propped up by her hand. Her coat slumped off her shoulder, taking her white undershirt with it, to reveal more dappled freckles on tanned skin. He swallowed and ran his hand through his mousey, chin-length hair in hopes of hiding his awkward nature to replace it with a charming persona and he took a step, confident he was going to learn this terrifying woman’s name, learn her story, learn her-

Crash!

A booming clatter sounded across the tavern, the sound of chairs squealing against the wooden floors, abrasive shouts sounding over the earlier sounds of festivities. Gale whipped around in time to see an altercation had broken out, a crossbow now stuck between two patrons. Oh, gods, not now! He almost felt himself roll his eyes at the situation. Thankfully, in a place like the Yawning Portal, there was only one way to settle disagreements.

“Shadowdark ale for everyone!” His voice broke through the piercing silence, all attention turned away from the fight to Gale as he stood, arms outstretched.

The crowd cheered and raced to the bar to collect their drinks. Good, that’s one obstacle out of his way. He turned to the bartender, telling him to put it on his tab, before grabbing two tankards of ale. He turned to finally approach the woman, but she was gone! Gale’s eyes scoured the crowd, catching the woman shouldering her way to the entrance. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to let her get away that easily!

With a blink and a soft glow, Gale teleported himself on the outskirts of the mob with ease, shouldering a few customers of his own as he made his way to her. He inched closer and closer until, with a spin on his heel and a smile on his face, he was in front of her, the drink presented as an offering.

Now that he had a closer look at her, he noticed just how roughed up she really was. Her pale, eyes widening at the sudden sight of him, sunken in by the exhaustion on her face. Streaks of muck and long-dried sweat clung to her cheeks and brow. Despite the rough shape she was in, the exhaustion, she was still quite lovely. And those eyes…

He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat closed, strangling the words in his throat so the only noise he made was a half-groan-half-squeak.

The woman’s eyes darted from the ale in front of her back up to him, her arched brows quirking in a confused stare. Dainty, freckled hands reaching up as she tentatively took the drink from him. Gale only smiled…. Like an idiot.

With one more glance up at him, the woman then lifted the tankard to her lips. Gale cleared his throat, trying to rid it of the aridity that clung to his vocal chords, and went to speak again. Once more, he was left silenced as he watched her lift the mug higher and higher, chugging its contents. Dark, amber-colored droplets snaked their way down her throat, leaving a soft golden sheen over her skin. Gale shifted uncomfortably.

She finished the drink with a satisfied sigh that sent warm shivers across his shoulders, and thrust the cup back into his hands, a pleased smile gracing her now pink and wetted lips. “Thanks, dove.” Her voice, her accent, it scorched Gale’s cheeks, rang in his ears like little bells.

He moved to answer, but she marched past him and out the door, leaving him slack-jawed, confused, and standing painfully alone. Despite the burning heat of his embarrassment warming his ears, curiosity continued to plague his mind. He did his best to shake off the awkward encounter and set his drinks on a nearby table. There was three things that he knew about this woman:

One, she held an incredible power within her that called to him.

Two, her accent, still playing in his mind, signified that she was definitely not from around here.

And three, he undoubtedly had to get to know her!

The cool nighttime summer air of Waterdeep whispered across Arcane’s skin as she stepped outside the tavern, a welcome reprieve from the cramped and crowded tavern. Waterdeep was proving itself to be a strange city with even stranger occupants. She was arrested her first day here, set free that night, witnessed a fight break out that was quickly quelled by the promise of free drinks, and had ale shoved in her face by a mute man who smiled at her like a dolt.

The image of his face flashed in her mind: his wide, awkward smile, his brown eyes glittering with anticipation as he held the drink out in front of him. She glanced back at the door to the tavern, chuckling to herself and shaking her head, heading out into the dark. She pitied him, poor lad. She only caught the slightest view of his bewildered face when she left and she mentally kicked herself for being so uncivilized. Though, to be fair, she had a goal in mind and couldn’t afford for anything to distract her.

Walking the streets of the city proved to be an easy feat, the darkness being fended off by floating balls of light, illuminating the road and alleyways in a soft, magical blue glow. Driftglobes, they were called, and they were fascinating! The memory of reading about them returned to Arcane’s mind as she continued along her way, but tried her best to push her allure for this city’s impressive infrastructure from her clouding her goals.

She continued on, only stopping to ask for directions from a citizen, who pointed her in the direction of her destination: Orsabba’s Fine Import. Run by a covetous owner and rumored to be a front for fencing stolen goods. If she knew anything about her father, she knew he’d be selling her grandfather’s things under the table.

As she wound her way through the streets, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, snapping her fingers. Eyes scanning the streets for any sign of her friend Pangur. He had slipped away during her arrest, evading capture with a well-timed teleporting spell. But she hadn’t seen him since then and she was beginning to get worried. She knew from experience that Pangur was more than capable of taking care of himself, able to defend himself should he ever meet conflict. But with the love she held for her dear companion, along came the worry for his well being.

Silence greeted her calls and she figured he must’ve been too far away to hear her. Arcane paused a moment, fitting her fingers into her mouth and letting out a high-pitched, trilling whistle that echoed throughout the alleys around her. She waited, ears pricked for any sound, any slight change in atmosphere.

“Arcane! Arcane, yer okay!” She twirled around in time to spot him hopping out from his portal and bounding over to her, his tail held excitedly in the air.

Relief calmed Arcane’s agitated nerves and she scooped him into her arms, scratching his ears and planting kisses on his nose. “Pangur! Thank the gods you’re alright! When you didn’t come visit, I was so worried somethin’ happened to you!” She held him tightly, nuzzling her face into his fur.

Pangur purred, leaning into her touch and bunting his head against hers. “I tried, girlie, I did. These bleedin’ Waterdhavians don’t take snoopin’ ‘round their prisons lighty. I nearly returned to ye, naked!” His tail thrashed from side to side, displeasure apparent in his voice.

Arcane chuckled against his coat, pulling away to place one more kiss on his forehead before letting him jump to the ground. “You’re tellin’ me. Have a look at this.” She stuck out her leg, presenting the shackle on her ankle. “Looks like we’ll be staying in Waterdeep longer than intended.”

Pangur’s nose twitched, sniffing at his mistress’s new hardwear, recoiling with hackles raised and a hiss escaping his curled lips.

“Ye gods! A tracking anklet? The hells do they think, yer gonna do, wreck another ship?” He swatted at the anklet.

Arcane’s shoulders rose and fell as she sighed. “From what they told me, I still have to serve probation for the damage to the docks. Thankfully, I won’t have any debt to work off thanks to the testimony of the people we saved.”

“Ye mean the people you saved! Don’t sell yerself short, girl.” He stomped his paw on the ground, tail lashing. “You were the one who took on an entire ship of bloodthirsty pirates! You were the one who got everyone out to safety! And, not to mention, saved this old furbag in the process!” He pressed a paw to his chest, his eyes smiling.

Arcane stifled another chuckle, motioning for him to follow as she continued along the street to the merchant. “That reminds me… How were you able to open their cells so quickly? I never got the chance to ask.”

“Y’know, it’s the oddest thing! So, there I was, yes, scramblin’ about, tryin’ to find my footing when out of nowhere, several of the cells just… burst open!” As he spoke, he acted out the scene, hopping about theatrically.

“They just… opened? Intriguing.” Arcane bit on her knuckle as she considered the implications of this news. Was there someone out there, someone in this city who was watching them? The thought raised gooseflesh on her skin.

It didn’t take long for the pair to find their intended stop. Thankfully, the store was still open. The two made their way inside, a small bell announcing their arrival. Behind the counter, there sat a Dwarven man, thumbing through a book. He dismissively greeted them with a wave of his hand.

“Welcome to Orsabba’s Fine Import, the best foreign trader this side of the Sword Coast.” His tired voice was gruff, almost automatic upon the pair’s entry.

Arcane walked up to the counter, looking around at the fine goods displayed in the shop, her fingers thrumming against the surface before looking back to the Dwarf, waiting for him to address her.

He must’ve felt her eyes on him considering he set down his book to meet her stare. They stayed like that for a beat, an awkward silence palpable in the air, before he gestured to her, bushy eyebrows raised. “Well? What do you want?”

She was taken back a bit, but answered. “Ah, I’m looking for somethin’ of mine. Rumor has it, it passed through some of the more… secretive channels in this fine establishment.” She leaned comfortably against the counter, trying her best to conjure up her most charming smile.

The man squinted at her, drifting closer as he spoke in hushed tones. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, girl. Now, unless you’ve coin to spend or something to trade, I’ll have to ask you to leave.” his frown deepened. “We're about to close.”

Arcane frowned back at him, a soft glimmer pulling her eyes to the wall behind the counter. There, trapped behind a wall of glass, sat grandfather’s amulet! The purple gemstone glinting in the low candlelight. Her hand shot out, finger pointing at it accusingly.

“There! That amulet! I need it! How much?” Desperation clung to her voice, abandoning all thoughts of trying to charm the man wiped from her thoughts.

The Dwarf glanced back at the amulet, then to Arcane, looking over her figure, taking note of her ragged appearance. An impish smile curled his lips. “Oh, that old thing? Heh, 500 gold.” He held out his hand expectantly.

Arcane about smacked the man at his spiteful demeanor, her arms stiffening as agitation rattled her bones. She clasped her hands in front of her mouth, taking a deep breath before continuing, “Is there any way you can lower the price? Please, it’s my grandda’s, all I have left of him.” The sharpened chagrin edges straining her voice as she forced a constrained smile on her face.

“All prices, sales, and trades are final. No refunds, no exchanges, no bargains.” The Dwarf’s eyes flashed with devilry, looking annoyingly arrogant. “We don't negotiate with… the destitute.” his eyes scanned her appearance once more.

She'd had enough of playing games! Arcane hadn't suffered through toil and torment, hadn't faced a lifelong prison sentence, just to be denied what was rightfully hers! She slammed her hands against the counter.

“It isn’t yours! It’s mine! Someone stole it from me and I want it back, you charlatan!” The insult flew from her mouth before she could stop it, inwardly cringing at her blunder.

The Dwarf glowered at her, revealing a large mace from behind the counter and banging it on its surface, the wood splintering and chipping as he did so. Arcane took a step back. She was in no position to start causing trouble, not with her probation hanging over her head like a dark rain cloud. With clenched fists, she slowly backed away, her eyes burning as her temper rose. With a frustrated grunt, she reluctantly turned tail and retreated back outside, the door clicking as it locked behind her.

Anger burned hot deeply inside Arcane’s belly, the rage building as the scene replayed in her head. With a yell, she kicked at some nearby crates, regretting the action immediately as pain shot through her toes. She yelped, grabbing her foot and bobbing about before finally sinking against the wall in defeat. Pangur hopped in her lap, blue eyes blinking up at her.

“Well that was a huge waste of time!” He growled. The lights from the shop were snuffed out. “That feckin’ rock tumbler! The gall!” His tail beat against her arms as it whipped angrily back and forth.

Arcane sighed, releasing her sore foot and thudding her head back against the wall, disappointment tugging at her heart. She was so godsdamned tired. She had traveled all this way for apparently nothing! She spent 3 days in jail for this! She was trapped here for another week! All to be blocked by some arsehole! If only she could find a way inside without detection. But with the powerful tracking spell vexingly attached to her person, she’d be caught red-handed for sure.

But wait… what if…? Arcane lifted her head off the wall, the makings of a plan swirling in her seafoam eyes. She eyed Pangur in her lap, aggressively taking out his frustrations with his tongue as he groomed himself. What if she…?

Arcane lifted her fist to her mouth, clearing her throat. “Hey, Pangur?” She cooed, scratching him between his shoulders. He couldn’t help but arch his back as she did so.

“Oh, gods… I know that tone.” His unease was clear in his voice. “Yer up to something aren’t ye?”

She smiled, nodding her head giddily, a mischievous giggle bubbling to the surface. She looked around her, being sure the coast was clear before picking the cat-creature up and retreating to the nearby alleyway. She set him down in front of her, tucking her legs underneath her as she knelt down.

“You know that spell I’ve been toyin’ around with? The one where I astrally projected you?” She was practically vibrating with excitement, her smile pulling wider and hands wringing together. “What do you say to givin’ it another go?”

Pangur bristled, a low growl sounding in his chest. “No way! Ye remember what happened last time! Ye nearly lost me in the astral plane!” he shuddered. “I still haven’t felt quite right since returnin’! No, it’s far too complex a spell for ye!”

Arcane scoffed. “What happened to not selling myself short, hmm?” Her hands sat defiantly on her hips. “Besides, this will be good practice! I won’t lose you, Pangur, I promise. Please?” She reached out to smooth down his ruffled fur, and he hesitantly leaned against her hand, her eyes wide and pleading and lips pouting. A look she knew Pangur could barely resist.

A moment of silence fell between the two as Pangur calculated the risks. The idea of having his soul lost to the vastness of the Astral Plane was enough to turn his stomach over, but when he looked up into his mistress’s imploring eyes, he found it hard to deny her. He knew how much this meant to her, knew how far he was willing to go to make her happy. He’d traverse to the hells and back if it meant her smile stayed on her face. She’d suffered too much up to this point to risk another failure.

Pangur shuddered once more, but steeled himself against the trepidation that tingled in his claws, a look of determination in his eyes and tail held high. “Alright, fine! I’ll do it. But only if there’s a frosty pint in my future!”

Arcane squealed in delight, cupping his face and smooching his head. “Yes, yes! A hundred times, yes, Pangur! You are a stellar lad! You will have as many frosty pints as I can conjure!” She kissed him again and he pulled away from her, ears flat against his head as he climbed into her lap.

“Yeah, yeah. You better not make me regret this.” His claws dug into her legs while he made himself comfortable. He found he traveled better while relaxed. “Crazy lass… ‘ooh, yes, let’s practice our unstable spells on the cath shee, he won’t mind!’ Pfft, bleedin’ hells…” Pangur muttered to himself before settling on her legs, pulling himself into a tight loaf.

Arcane took a moment to ready herself, too, stretching and shaking out her arms, cracking her knuckles and taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, bringing the purest concept of peace she could muster to the forefront of her mind while her hands began to stroke at Pangur’s fur. The soft violet glimmer of her magic danced at her fingertips, clinging to his fur like static, seeming to pull his essence further and further from his body as soft wisps of Weave worked to separate the creature, body from soul.

From deep within her mind, she saw through his eyes, the world around them becoming distorted and almost blurred in a white film. The projection jumped from her lap, fully separate from his physical form. He floated, the gravity of the world around them no longer a hindrance. He had almost forgotten how weighless it felt to be in this form, how unbalanced it all felt. Pangur shook all concerned thoughts from his mind for fear of breaking Arcane’s concentration, his haunches instinctively wiggling back and forth as he leaped, phasing through the wall of the store like a specter.

Inside, it was dark, but this was no issue. He floated through the air, claws outstretched as he struggled to keep his balance, and slowly approached the amulet on the wall. He paused for a moment. He definitely wasn’t going to fit the whole frame in his jaws; he had to find another way around. He glanced at the wall from which the amulet hung, figuring if he phased behind the display case, he’d be able to pull it free.

With a push from an invisible force, he hopped from the counter to the far wall, poking his head through to survey what lay behind it. There, all snuggled in his bed, lay the store owner. Pangur had to stop himself from growling. That bastard. Sleeping soundly while his poor Arcane suffered without the memories of her beloved grandfather. He swallowed his anger, recalling the words Ruari spoke to him when he was but a kit.

‘Protect her, Pangur. Protect my treasure; make her happy. The road she’ll walk in life will be a lonely one. She’ll need you, even when she’s grown.’

The memory imbued Pangur with steely purpose. His path was clear: Make Arcane happy, at all costs! With reinvigorated determination, he pushed forward, phasing his head through the wall where he measured the display case’s backing would be. With the silver chain in sight, Pangur fastened his teeth around it; something within the amulet stirred, making the teeth rattle in his skull. He chirped in surprise, but pressed on, pulling his head back through the wall and the amulet with him.

‘Whew’ his astral lungs breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I really didn’t think that’d work!’ He surveyed the bedroom. Just because he was able to pull the amulet through the wall the first time, didn’t mean he’d be able to do it again. He needed to find a window. Thankfully, there was one, only it was situated above the sleeping Dwarf’s head. It didn’t matter. It was a risk he had to take.

Outside, Arcane stayed knelt over Pangur’s body, which occasionally twitched and trilled as he worked, a soft tune humming from her lips as she worked on concentrating. Working on quieting her mind was something she often struggled with, leading her spells to act unexpectedly - and occasionally, dangerously - She fought the urge to fully feel the spite coiling in her stomach, humming the tune much louder until the words flowed from her lips.

A song, her mother’s song, lulled back to sleep the rising demon. A song about a weary traveler finally returning home after years on the road.

‘Through dungeon, moor, and glen,

I’ll find my way back home again.

O’er range, spire, and grove,

I’ll find my way, love, find my way back home.

For the song of you, my dear, rings clearly in my heart

I’ll wander home, wander home, home where adventures start.’

Her mother sang this on days when grandfather was gone. He often left, never saying why. On the nights when Arcane couldn’t sleep without his fantastic stories, mother would sing to her, cradling her and her siblings in her arms, gently rocking them back and forth until they all eventually succumbed to the call of sleep. It was the song she caught herself mindlessly humming it while engrossed in a book, or on restless nights when her mind wandered to darker corners, never, ever failing to calm her nerves and fight back whatever haunted her.

She was so lost in the song, in the fading memories of her mother’s voice that the weight of cool metal against her skin nearly broke her concentration. She opened her eyes, seeing Pangur pawing at his static body, astral eyes wide in a silent plea to let him back into his corporeal form. Arcane’s hands danced in the air, enveloping Pangur’s astral form in a white glow as they closed down around him, condensing him back into his body.

He awoke with a gasp, silver stripes standing on end as his eyes darted around. Arcane was quick to soothe him with gentle pets and affirming words, letting him know he was safe.

“Please, please never ask me to do that again.” His voice was strained, still breathless from the feeling of adjustment that came with returning to his normal self, and his sides rapidly rose and fell with panicked breath.

She smiled and stroked his back, eyes moving to the amulet lying on the ground. Her eyes flashed in excitement, palming the necklace to get a closer look before pressing it lovingly to her chest, a mix of emotions releasing in a satisfied laugh and tears welling in her eyes. Finally, something was going her way!

“Hey!”

A voice sounded from behind them, startling the two to their feet. There, illuminated by the azure glow of the driftglobes floating above, stood a familiar figure. It was the same man from the tavern! An elvish curse fumbled from her lips and she scrambled to her feet, turning to face him. He didn’t look angry as she expected. In fact, he looked… was that amazement?

She wasn’t about to stick around and find out, lest he call the guard down on her. Turning on her heels, she ran, the amulet held tightly in her fist. She had put a good amount of distance between herself and the man, looking back to judge how fast she had to carry herself, but he wasn’t there! The soft remnants of magic dissipating where he once stood. Where in the hells did he go?!

As Arcane turned her head back to the street ahead of her, she felt her body slam into someone and strong hands gripping her shoulders. She gasped, looking up to see the man again. Shite, a magic wielder! She struggled against his gasp, but he was stronger, holding her tight.

“Stop! WIll you just- Hey!” The sharpness of his tone caught her off guard, all struggle ceasing. Surprisingly, his hold on her softened. She looked up at him. His brown eyes were darkened by his stern frown.

“Please… please don’t call the guard!” She pleaded, relenting to his grip. “I-I wasn’t stealin’! This amulet belongs to my grandda, it’s one of the only things I have left of him!” She wasn’t quite sure why she was so freely spilling her guts to this man, something about his face compelled her to tell the truth.

The man’s brow raised in confusion and he released her. “Call the- No, no! I’m not going to call the guard, you can put your mind at ease.” He chuckled, raising his hands. “I mean you know harm. It’s just… that spell you cast. It was quite peculiar. I haven’t seen something like that in quite a while and, well, I’ll admit, my curiosity got the better of me.”

Arcane rolled her shoulders, taking a step away from him and brushing herself off. She eyed the man inquisitively. “You’re the same lad from the Yawnin’ Portal, aren’t you? Did you stalk me the entire way?”

The man stiffened slightly, the softest rosy blush ghosting across his face. He chuckled nervously and shifted, a hand reaching to scratch the back of his head. “I uh… My name’s Gale.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away.

She silently scrutinized the man, eyes flitting from his hand that hung awaiting hers, back to his face. Mentally noting that he didn’t look dangerous, but that didn't mean he didn't have the potential to be. She pulled her coat tighter around her body, arms crossing over her chest as she turned away from him, her nose pointing defiantly in the air.

“You know, typically, during an introduction, there’s an exchange of one’s name. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t itching to know yours since I saw you.” She peeked at him, noting the soft, genuine smile he gave her. Surely, this man was no threat to her.

With her body still turned away from him, she answered plainly, “Arcane.” She felt him shift, her periphery catching the faintest look of astonishment in his eyes.

“Well, you’re aptly named, aren’t you?” He pointed out.

“Indeed, and I’ve no qualms against using my magic to move those who get in my way. So if you don’t mind…” She trailed off, moving to push past him, Pangur following at her feet.

“Aye, best keep yer distance, boyo, or it’ll be a swift lashing, eh?” He hissed up at the man, fur bristled and claws unsheathed.

“Mystra’s mantle! Did… did that cat just speak? Extraordinary!” He exclaimed, kneeling down to inspect the creature closer.

Arcane stepped between the man and Pangur, arms still folded. “He’s not a cat, he’s a careful hybrid, part Cath Shee.” She corrected him, quite matter-of-factly. “And if you’d like to keep your face free of gashes, I don’t recommend antagonizin’ him.”

“A Cath Shee? Those are rare creatures, indeed; rarely ever seen outside of Evermet!” Glee filled his voice, making it hard to figure out if he missed their threats, or just elected to ignore them. “You two are turning out to be quite the enigmatic duo!” He tilted his head to look up at her, amazement beaming in his smile.

Arcane felt the corner of her own lips twitch to return the grin. It was settled, this man wasn’t a threat. At worst, he was a fool… and a stalker; at best, he was merely a little strange. The man rose again and Arcane noticed just how tall he was, easily standing a head taller her, and he seemed nice enough, if a little… ecstatic. She felt the tension in her shoulders fade, dropping her arms to her side.

“You’re from Daggerford, are you not?” He inquired.

Arcane snickered. “What gave it away?” Sarcasm laced her words, her hands finding themselves on her hips.

Gale pointed to his lips, “Accent.” He answered with a small shrug. “Rare to find your people here. I thought Daggerfordians tended to steer clear of Waterdeep. On account of the two cities’ centuries-old, albeit, one-sided rivalry.” He couldn't stop the small chuckle that laced his words.

Arcane blinked at him, wondering how he missed her pointed derision. She shook her head slightly. “Yes, well, perhaps it’s because of the pompous, peacockin’ Waterdhavians who like to pretend they’re better than everyone else.”

Gale shrugged once more, offering her a small, but arrogant smile that boiled her blood. “Can’t exactly argue against centuries of advancement brought forth by superior minds working together.” He gestured to the city around them.

She was appalled and scoffed indignantly, turning to storm away from this insufferable man.

“Wait, wait! I’m sorry. That… that was untoward and misfortunately-worded.” He called after her, clambering to stand in front of her again. “I only mean that we don’t get many of you here. I can only recall maybe a handful of your people that I've met.” He was in her way, again, hands held up in a pacifactory manner. His eyes were apologetic, that much was clear and his tone read as genuine.

Once more, she closed herself off to him, her grip tightening on the amulet still in her hand. He motioned towards it, silently asking if he could see it. She hesitated for a moment before sighing and opening her palm, the amethyst stone glittering under the glow of the streetlamps. Gale leaned in to get a better look, rubbing his stubbled chin as he examined the jewel, frowning inquisitively.

“I can see why you were willing to risk imprisonment once more by taking this. It must mean a great deal to you.”

“How did you-” Gale’s eyes glanced down at the anklet, giving her the answer to her unfinished question.

He straightened, folding his hands behind his back. “If I were to venture to guess, I’d say you’re the same woman responsible for the pandemonium down at the docks not three days ago. And judging from that anklet, you didn’t emerge quite as unscathed as you might have hoped.” He leaned in, close enough for the warm scent of old books to fill her nose, continuing in hushed tones. “And if I may say so, my lady, your conjured storm was quite an alluring sight to behold!”

Something about his words appealed to Arcane’s ego, be it his soft voice, or that mischievous glimmer in his eyes. She found herself mirroring his stance, her own smile pulling at her once pursed lips.

“Yes, well, one can’t expect to fight pirates during a clear, sunny day, now can they?” She caught herself giggling. “Tends to ruin the whole ‘it’s my life or yours’ vibes.”

“Indeed.” His head tilted downward slightly, eyes peering up at her from beneath a row of dark, feathered lashes, a look that sent her blood rushing to her cheeks.

Silence fell between the two, a comfortable pause from the bristled nerves, as they studied each other, trying to come to a unanimous conclusion about the other. Despite the previous tense energy, Arcane began to feel the beginning stages of enjoyment flutter in her stomach. This man, while definitely not well-versed in the art of social interaction, was actually quite pleasant underneath it all.

He cleared his throat, tucking his mousey hair behind his ear. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibility to assume you haven’t found proper lodgings for tonight, would it?”

Oh, right. She probably should’ve figured that out before she stepped foot on land. Though, to her credit, far too much had happened for her to even consider thinking about a place to sleep for the night! Gale continued on, interrupting her thoughts.

“Not to worry! I’ve an open room available at my tower, equipped with all the luxuries one equates to the comforts of home. Complete with an expansive library and vast wine cellar, if that sounds at all to your taste.” He looked at her expectantly, anticipation glimmering in those big brown eyes of his.

Arcane laughed, attempting to hide her wincing as the aching in her ribs began to make itself known. “Rather forward of you, don’t you think? I mean I hardly know you and you’ve just caught me stealin’.”

Gale raised a finger, that sly smile returning. “Not stealing; taking back what’s yours.” He corrected her, “And I solemnly swear to be an absolute paragon of chivalry!” He placed his hand over his heart and offered her a slight bow.

She had to admit, despite his previous faux pas, he was charming. Boyishly arrogant, and maybe a little out of touch, but charming nonetheless. She eyeballed Pangur, who only stared back at her.

‘We can trust this one, Pangur. I’m sure of it.’ She thought, knowing he’d hear her thoughts.

“Alright, then. I suppose I’m in no real position to deny you.” She stuck out her hand, which he shook eagerly.

“Magical! Shall we?” He gestured to the streets before them, a silent request for her to follow him.

And follow him, she did. She followed this strange, awkward, yet dashing and warm man through the streets, into the night. All the while she mentally said a prayer to whatever god would hear her that this wasn’t another mistake she was making.

[ask-tssb]

(@ Marie [again])

what do you think might happen if you lose the raise. obviously, I would never imply that you're going to lose, you do know the route better, but what do you think Topaz will do with her victory if she wins, since the loser has to do whatever the winner says?

Marie: Ts, yeah, exactly, she's not even gonna come close by a mile. I dunno, she'd probably do something stupid with it if she somehow won, like ask Sandy to sing her a baby lullaby. She'd probably just forget she can tell someone what to do, anyway.

[pumpkinsy0]

Which Outsiders characters do you think CAN solve a Rubik’s cube, and which Outsiders characters do you think has never solved on in their life?? Like a Rubik’s cube to them might as well be trying to solve cancer or somethin.

solving it, may or may not take a while

darry

tim

angela

evie

not solving it

pony (he always gives up lmao)

steve (hes too annoyed to try ts again)

dallas (not explaining it)

johnny (doesnt wanna try)

sylvia (dont gaf)

sandy (she tries her best)

mark

bryon

m&m (maybe he gets like halfway there but never fully)

“solves” it by taking the stickers off and rearranging it

soda

curly

two bit

[sentinelmania]

A classic TS video...