#the way the costumes were drawn was terrible

[roseworth]

i am going to get shot and killed for this but i am speaking my truth. i believe that so many of my problems with cassie's current costumes would be solved if artists took inspiration from tt03 instead of whatever theyre doing now

[faunandfloraas]

inadvertently stopped using my freckle fade cream without thinking.... right around the time i started making gifs of felix.... coincidence?

[hrefna-the-raven]

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RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader

Part 1 - 2

Words: 1476

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: Michael has escaped Smith Grove's Sanitarium...

Reader: short female reader, female genitals in smut scenes

The voice echoing in his mind persisted, urging him to go to Haddonfield but the back door he was sliding open was miles away from it, for today he listened to another power rising from deep within. Stepping inside, he found himself standing in the kitchen, his eyes drawn to the assortment of sweets and candies neatly arranged on the countertop. A faint smile curled at the edges of his mouth, knowing that you had purchased each one of them according to the list. Right next to it, neatly folded, was a black witch costume with a small hat resting atop of it.

You were sitting on the couch, engrossed in the movie "Bates Motel" when a continued cold draft caught finally caught your attention. With a grunt, you switched off the TV and lifted your body from the comfort of the couch, making your way towards the kitchen. Your fingers fumbled in search of the light switch, and as it clicked on, your gaze shot up, landing on the tall masked man standing at the counter, his fingers gliding over the tiny hat from your costume. You immediately recognised deep blue striped pants and the torn dirty gray bathrobe that seemed tiny hanging on his imposing figure.

"Michael!", you shouted in shock and total disbelief.

Your body froze for a moment. It was something else seeing this mountain of man standing in your kitchen, close to midnight, all alone and far away from the security that Smith's Grove provided. How could he even be here? Did he escape? Just as you wondered why nobody had informed you about the escape of the patient you mainly took care of, the sharp ringing of the wall-mounted phone next to you startled both you and Michael. Without diverting your gaze from him, you reached out and grabbed the phone, placing it against your ear and waiting a moment before speaking.

"Hello?"

"Oh nurse, heavens! I'm glad I was able to reach you. Michael has escaped, he killed several on his way out."

There was a pause on the other side as Loomis waited for your reply. Any sane person would have freaked out while being trapped alone in their home with the sanitarium's most infamous patient. The doctor on the other end of the line was you're only chance to call for help and as the thoughts of what any sane person would have done in that moment flashed before your inner vision, your body had its own surprise in store for you. Your hand gestured for Michael to close the door behind him while you shot a warm smile at him before focusing back on the phone call.

"Oh my god, that's terrible! Did someone alarm the police? Do you know where he's headed?"

Michael blinked in disbelief as you faked a shocked tone while the traces of your smile still lingered on your lips. His eyes never left your figure, his hand fumbling behind him to close the door. The enigma that was you continued to surprise him, eluding the expectations formed by the cruel world around him, only to grace him with the kindness he not only thought lost after his mother stopped visiting him. No, you continued to surpass it and as he stood within your kitchen, he almost felt a sense of home, carrying his thoughts to the one he had back then as he briefly wondered where his little sister could be now.

"No I haven't seen him. Why would he come here? Have you checked in Haddonfield where his sister lives now?"

You winked at him, feeling freed from your confidential oath as he was technically, officially, not near you to overhear such information. Michael felt stunned at your response. Back in the sanitarium he had wondered more than once if you'd be able to peak into his mind as you always seemed to understand him so well and now you had answered the very question that had been lingering in his mind. A strange sensation burned underneath his skin as if he wanted to...wanted to kiss you. His breaths grew heavier and his hands pressed tightly against his sides, trying to hide the trembles.

"I'll keep a look out but I'm sure he won't waste any time coming here. You too. Goodnight Dr Loomis."

You hung up the phone and turned back to Michael, taking a few hesitant steps into his direction.

"So...uhm...what brought you here? You could also have tried to find your sister."

A small shivering breath came from behind the mask before Michael slowly pulled it off his face and pointed at you. Your brows furrowed for a moment and you contemplated on the possibilities before answering cautiously.

"Me? You came here because of me? To see me?"

He nodded, placing his mask on the counter beside your costume and sank to his knees, arms outstretched, waiting for you to approach him. He was aware that you probably knew the circumstances that led to his escape, Loomis would have surely informed you how much blood stained his hands tonight. And yet, you chose to send the doctor straight to Haddonfield all the while wearing a smile on your face. You had a choice tonight and you chose him. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes when you wrapped your arms around him, exhaling relieved at the shared closeness. It had been a long time since anyone had chosen him, and now here you were, gently cradling his face, your gaze filled with nothing but affection. His heart ached beautifully as the feeling of home nestled within. He leaned in closer, his lips pressing on yours in a, first, tender kiss that quickly morphed into burning passion he couldn't control any longer. Strong hands slid beneath your butt and you gasped when you were lifted onto the counter. Long fingers wrapped around your shorts and panties, tearing them off with such force that they were flying off to the corner of the kitchen.

"Michael!", you shrieked in surprise but your legs parting on their own betrayed your desire.

Michael groaned at the sight of your wet folds before him. Not only had you chosen him, but you were also willing to surrender yourself to him, to be his. He silently vowed to worship you as the angelic being that you were, grant you the pleasures of the heavens you descended from. Gently, he positioned your legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, his face coming tantalisingly close to your cunt and you could feel his breath fanning over your wetness. A deep, sinful moan escaped your lips as his tongue pressed flat against your swollen clit. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh as your sweet taste began to fill his mouth, igniting a feral hunger within him. His sloppy licks grew faster, sucking at your clit in between before shoving three fingers into your dripping entrance. You cried out in pleasure as he kept thrusting into you, pushing you fast towards the edge of your release. The man between your legs had nothing in common with the shy calm patient from the observation room, the one standing between your legs ate you out like a starved man, worshipping you for the loyalty you showed him. Your fingers entwined in his hair, urging him closer as you bucked your hips and cried out his name, panting and finally coming undone while pure bliss washed over you. Michael mumbled something against your folds before rising and using his sleeve to wipe away your juices from his face. You still breathed heavily, chuckling as you hopped off the countertop, searching for your pants in the kitchen corner.

"That was....wow....I-I should return the favour", you spoke softly, pulling up your pants.

As you glanced up, a short gasp escaped your lips as you discovered Michael already standing beside you, his arms sneaking around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Later", he murmured, his voice coarse and deep, "let's sleep."

Those little words, so simple and yet the desire that gave birth to them ran so deep. Michael never truly had someone, his dark thoughts being the only company he ever knew until, one day, you stepped through those doors in the Sanitarium. He had always wondered it how would to be to lie down in bed with someone, not a single worry in his world as only happiness seeped through his body and the warmth of your touch lulling him into slumber. You led him upstairs and cuddled up to him on your bed, slowly sinking into a blissful sleep in the arms of Haddonfield's most feared man. Michael caressed your arm, eyelids growing heavy as he drifted off, one final thought lingering before surrendering to the irresistible lure of slumber. Home...

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.9

I arrive at GeekCon both sweaty and with a vague sense of unease. The stifling heatwave has turned the city into a pressure cooker, and it feels foreboding, like something terrible is building and about to break free.

I’m greeted by my own face by the door, advertising the panel that I’m supposed to be on this morning. I never got comfortable seeing myself like this, I prefer it when they just use the logo or my masked promo pictures. At least today is the last time I’ll appear as Llama Man in any official capacity, and then…

Then I don’t know.

But there’ll be time to figure that out later, right now I’m about to see Julia again. I can’t believe it’s only been a year since we met, and I have no idea how she feels about me right now.

I spent most of the night in my hotel room tossing and turning, thinking about what I’ll say to her, but I still don’t have a plan. I just want to apologise for ending things so abruptly.

It really wasn’t my best work.

She said she just wanted to be with you. And then you dumped her.

I groan inwardly as I scan the faces of everyone I see. There’s no sign of her, but the cosplay competition isn’t until later, she may not have arrived yet.

I wonder if she’ll refuse to speak to me at all. I wouldn’t blame her, but she never seemed like the type to carry a grudge. I just want to see her and make sure she’s not too upset about how things ended, something I should have done months ago.

I need to make sure she doesn’t hate me. I can’t handle if she hates me.

I guess I’ll have to play it by ear, although Lee would tell me that’s not my strongest suit.

I leave my jacket in the wardrobe and linger a bit, fiddling with my VIP bracelet. The gallery’s air-conditioning is working overtime, and it helps a little with the heat but I still feel uneasy. My eyes are drawn to the bathroom door.

If this was a movie, Julia would come out of the bathroom right now, exactly like last time. Our eyes would meet. A beat, as the camera cut from her face to mine, both of us too surprised to speak. I would recover first, tell her that we can’t keep meeting like this, and her face would crack into a smile. Then she’d leap into my arms and I would kiss her like there were no tomorrow.

Get it together, Romeo. She’s not kissing you ever again, you’re going to be lucky if she even speaks to you. Focus. You’re at work.

At least I’m not in full costume this year, I would probably have died from heatstroke. And it would have made me feel silly trying to have a serious conversation with Julia.

I decide to take a quick tour of the convention floor before the panel starts.

Even though it’s still early in the day, there’s people everywhere. Some tabletop role-players are recording their podcast on location, kids are running around, and several people are dressed up despite the heat. I wish Julia had shown me pictures of the costume she was planning so I knew what to look for.

A woman with long, red hair makes me do a double take, but I know it isn’t Julia before she even turns around, the way she moves is wrong. I know every inch of Julia’s body and this isn’t it. Everything Julia is, the way she walks and talks and laughs is imprinted on my brain, and it feels like I should be able to locate her by telepathy, by following some sort of invisible string tying me to her.

“Uh, Mr. Romeo! Sorry, hello.”

“Oh, hey. Edmund, right?”

The young man beams, clearly pleased that I remember his name. His booth was next to mine last year, we talked about old movies. I wish I could introduce Julia to him, she would have loved to discuss Cow Plant Love with an expert.

“Wait, you do know him? I thought you were lying!” The teenage girl next to him sounds somewhere between impressed and angry.

“Yeah, why would I lie about that? Sorry, sir, this is my sister Liz, she’s a big fan of Llama Man.”

“Can I have your autograph? I collect them, I already got the Coolala guy and the Freezer Bunny lady this morning. Oh, and can you make it out to ‘Lizette’, with a Z, please?”

“Of course. That’s a very cool costume, Lizette with a Z.”

“I made it myself! It’s Michelle from Doherty’s Revenge, have you seen it? The one with the zombie gym teacher?”

“Oh? Haven’t heard of it, do you think I should watch it?”

“You have to, it’s so good! I used to think it was actually really scary but now I just think it’s funny. Me and Edmund watch a lot of like, retro movies with dad, we even watched the really old Llama Man movies once. I’m gonna tell my dad I met you, he won’t believe it!”

“I’m flattered. Thanks for the movie recommendation, I’ll make sure to check it out.” I hand her the autograph before waving goodbye to Edmund who mouths a silent thank you.

Retro.

I know everything seems ancient to a teenager, but the word tastes like dusty VHS tapes, like lava lamps and shag carpets, like mid-century kitchens. This is my demographic, I suppose, nostalgic dads and their excitable kids.

Julia is not in the panel crowd either, but I guess that would have been too much to hope for. I would probably have found her presence too distracting anyway.

I know one of the other panellists, Mei Zhang, the iconic voice of the Freezer Bunny for over fifteen years. We’ve met briefly at conventions and even on a few gigs, but never really got a chance to speak much.

The third panellist is a young man named Andy Okeke, who seems to be voicing a few Voidcritters as well as a bear-like creature I’ve never heard of. It’s his first time on a panel, but he’s already annoyingly good for his age, and I can imagine him having a pretty impressive career at the speed he’s going.

I answer the same questions I’ve answered a million times before and try to find some sort of comfort in the fact that it’s the last time. As much as I loved my job, it got repetitive after almost a decade. Maybe I should get that number for Sierra’s agent, try to get back on screen. Maybe I’ve grown too complacent, stagnant.

Finally, the questions dry up and the last people leave the room, and just like that, I’m free from my contract. It doesn’t feel like freedom, though, more like a free fall.

“Hey, Romeo, wait up.” Mei stops me by the doors.

“How are you doing? It must be so weird.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they ever retire Bunny.”

“You’ll still have others, won’t you?”

“I know, but I’m known for Freezer Bunny, not for… four or five Voidcritters. I can’t even keep track of their names, which is ironic since it’s all they ever say.”

I’m not sure how to respond so I just nod. I’m impatient to get to the cosplay competition, but I don’t want to be rude.

“Mei, it was great seeing you again, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.”

“Sure. Would you – would you want to grab coffee some time, though?”

Shit. Before Julia, I would have gladly followed Mei home tonight, maybe we’d even go on a couple of real dates before things fizzled out as they normally do. But right now, every muscle in my body is telling me that I have to go, to move, to be somewhere else.

“Sorry, I’m, uh. Maybe another time, I don’t…”

The giant poster of my face is judging my lame attempt at stringing together a sentence, and I’m painfully aware that the woman behind us has been sweeping the same spot for a minute now, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“I’m a big girl, Romeo. If you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

“Right. I am sorry, though, it’s not…” I mumble something politely incoherent and more or less flee the room.

Fuck. One year and I’ve completely lost my touch.

I hurry up the stairs, the competition must be just about to end. I can see through the doors before I even reach them, all of the contestants are on stage – and she’s not there.

I stand in front of the doors, frozen, arm still outstretched. This doesn’t make sense, she loves this, she told me about the costume she was planning, she should be here.

There’s no time to dwell on why I so desperately need to see her again, what I would even say to her, the only thing left is fear.

What if something has happened to her? Would I ever know? We’re not together anymore and we have no friends in common, no one who would think of me or assume I’d want to know if she got hurt or sick.

She could be dead. She could be dead and I would never know.

I’m vaguely aware that I’m spiralling but I can’t stop, I feel dizzy. The heat and the lights and the people, everything is too much and I can barely see.

Somehow my feet carry me outside, to the very same bench where we talked for hours on that first night. I try to breathe, deep breaths, but the air is too warm and feels thick.

My hands shake as I log into the anonymous account I made during a moment of weakness after she blocked me, and I pull up her social media in the hopes that she posted something recently, anything that can reassure me that she’s fine.

Relief floods through me when I see the timestamp on her latest updates. San Sequoia Aquarium, just a couple of hours ago. But the relief dissipates quickly as I scroll through the photos.

Nestled between fish and family pictures, there are two selfies with her friend Marten.

I stare at them, suddenly feeling numb.

Her eyes are shining like stars in the lights from the tanks. She’s smiling, and so is he. His arm is around her, possessively, and there’s a hint of triumph in his eyes that I don’t like.

He seems to be carrying her on his back in the other photo, and the thought of her legs wrapped around him awakens an urge to tear him away from her that is almost suffocating.

If they’re not already dating, it’s a matter of time. They would probably have gotten together a long time ago if I hadn’t been there. A petty part of me wonders if he was really being her friend or just biding his time, waiting for me to fumble, but that’s crazy. I barely know the guy. Actually, I don’t really know any of Julia’s friends, I just have a vague idea about their names and who they were to her.

I wasn’t a very good boyfriend, was I?

I told you it was better this way.

I’ve kept reminding myself that I didn’t make a mistake, and here’s proof at last. This was meant to be, they were meant to get together, I just happened to get in the way. He’s been a good friend to her, nice and considerate, while I only brought her chaos and pain.

I was so worried that Julia was wasting my time, but all along, I was the one wasting hers. She deserves better, I know this, but it still feels like I lost her all over again.

I put away the phone and take a deep breath of the scorching air. And then I reach for the tiny, secret corner of my heart where I was nursing my last hope of getting her back and stomp it out.

beginning / previous / next

[ckret2]

On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

####

Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble. 

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow. 

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you." 

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub." 

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

####

"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly. 

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

####

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

####

(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

[skunaskitten]

(i was lazy with the photo cover but his reaction in this is valid)

Holloween Party

Paring: sukuna x female reader

Contains: smut, fluff, teasing and mocking sukuna

Summary: Yuji had invited you to a holloween party event with the rest of the group. Since there was a costume dress up, you wanted to do the best thing you can think of. Dressing like the king of curses. You later find out how the king himself thinks of your attire.

You were so excited for this party that Yuji had invited you to. Even though you did not like parties you did like Halloween and yuji. But the reason why you liked yuji was because you had a crush on the king of curses. 

 Sometimes when yuji was asleep you would go talk to sukuna instead. He said many terrible words and threats to you. The more time you spent with him, the more he became closer to you and actually liked talking to you, hearing your thoughts on the world.

 He loved the way you teased itadori calling him a brat and how you always knocked him on his ass when training. It made sukuna laugh while sitting on his bone throne or just laying around in yuji’s head. 

 Now here you were dressing up in your most greatest idea of a costume you could ever think of. It made people feel fear when gazing at the king or even hearing of him. You chuckled and smiled putting on the last mark on your face and laughed with excitement. "Yes! It's perfect they are going to freak out."

 Everyone was in the banquet room of the school waiting for you as they stood around talking and eating. Yuji began to worry as he looked at the time on his phone and frowned. "Where is she?" 

He worried that you might have changed your mind. "Hey Megumi, I am going to her place to see if she is alright." Megumi waved him off saying whatever. Yuji walked to the front door and opened only to get startled and yelled. 

 Gojo had walked over hearing yuji then saw what he yelled for as he slid down his sunglasses with a smirk. Yuji stepped back as you smiled with open arms saying " what is there something on my face?" You stepped in as gojo laughed saying "you look better than sukuna himself." 

 As you walked past them and headed into the party everyone stopped to look at you with their mouths dropped open and stayed quiet.

 You looked close enough to the king himself, just female. The copy of tattoos on your face with the extra drawn on eyes of his. The white kimono just like his with his shoes and the tattoos around your wrist. What topped it all off was the pink you had put in your hair. "Hello brats." 

 Through the whole party you were the talk of the night. You looked at everyone's  costumes for the party. Gojo was going to come as himself but yuji and the others said no. So they drew extra eyes on his face to make six. Nabora came as a devil, with horns, a pointed tail and pitch fork wearing a skin tight black clothing. Megumi was forced to be a werewolf. Yuji and nabora bought him the outfit with spike collar, ears and a tail, he didn't look too happy. 

 Panda was supposed to be a normal panda bear so he carried a bamboo stick. Maki was dressed as a samurai. Toge was dressed like a frog. Todo a bull with fur pants and horns. The best for last was yuji, dressed in a tiger onesie. You admit he looked really cute in that, as you smile at his shocked expression from seeing you. 

 Throughout the night everyone was commenting on your dress up as sukuna. No one hasn't really seen the king of curses in his domain dressed in his kimono. But you let them understand sukuna does wear a kimono and you have seen it only once. 

 You were at the food table getting snacks stuffing your face just as you looked over seeing Yuji watching you. When you looked at him you noticed one of the slits under his eyes open. The little red eye staring at you then closed. Yuji rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey sorry sukuna wanted to see you. You look really good by the way. Like really cool. Better than sukuna." He chuckled as you giggled then slipped a hand into the kimono saying "I appreciate your efforts of flattery brat. But not enough to seduce me. Gambre gambre." Yuji looked at you surprised then started to laugh. 

 After a few hours at the party you thought enough was enough for tonight so you walked back to your dorm room with yuji beside. The both of you walk close together talking and laughing. When you entered your room, having you back to Yuji, you heard him grunting. You looked over seeing him hunched over and concern filled your face. "Yuji you alright?" 

 He raised up, closing your door with a slam and you gazed at the tattoos on his face and four red eyes.

 "Sukuna!?"

  He smirked and said "brat. You think it's funny to mock me." 

"No but admit it, I look better. Who knows maybe I am the real king of curses." You held up two fingers and moved them in ways if you tried to slash him. Sukuna crossed his arms raising and eyes brow staring at you. You sighed then walked over to him and pressed yourself against his body. "Hey sukuna, you look cute in the tiger outfit even more with your tattoos out." He growled then quickly ripped it open revealing him in only his underwear. Your eyes roamed over his body seeing the muscle and tattoos.

 He grabbed your hips staring at you with a smirk "so now that I am here how about I show who the king really is." You smirked back at him saying "gambre gambre." Sukuna growled then said "strip." "You dare demand me." Sukuna let out a sigh then grabbed your jaw between his fingers and leaned down. Not realizing what he was doing until your felt his lips against yours. 

 Your lips pressed against his and reached behind you to untie the back of the kimono and stripped it off. No one knew that you got close to sukuna and developed feelings for him as he did with you. Yuji only knew of this since he is the vessel for sukuna he had to know. Sweet as yuji is, he kept it a secret when he came back mid kiss with sukuna. You freaked out and began to cry to him not to tell anyone only because yuji cared for you and liked you as well. He kept his mouth shut.

 Sukuna pulled away from you to look at your body seeing you only laced bra and panties under that kimono and more copy marking of himself across your body. 

"I do see, little one not so bad at copying me. But not as good as how I look." Your eyes went to sukuna’s body as he smirked.  "Yea you see that sweetheart, the look in your eyes. You wanted to be a little slut didn't you. Wearing nothing underneath that kimono. Just waiting for me to come to you." 

 "Sukuna, please take me." You leaned more onto the bed and spread your legs. He chuckled and leaned over your body then pushed his hips against your. You could feel his cock rubbing against your clothed folds making you whimper. "Huh what happened to that snarky attitude sweetheart? Now you are whimpering like a whore." You gave him a slap on his chest hearing the smack echo in the room. "Don't talk like that to me punk." 

 Sukuna chuckled then brought his lips to your neck and sucked on your precious skin. He opened his mouth to lick the bruises he left and took a soft bite to your skin and raked his teeth across your neck. You let out a moan wrapping your arms around his neck and arched your body against his. Sukuna chuckled as you felt it rumble through his chest. 

 You needed him even after all he does to your friends, to yuji and the world you could not help but to see another side of him. The other side that just needed someone to care for who he is. 

 You slightly pushed him away unblinking your bra letting your breast spring free in his face then wiggled out of your underwear. spreading your legs back open for him to view your glistening flesh.

 "Look at that so wet and dripping for me already. It's been so long since I've been inside a woman. I am giving you a warning now, I might get a little rough." Sukuna removed the rest of his clothing, his cock spring up stiff and the pink tip leaked with pre cum. Your eyes stared at it, seeing the black markings across his shaft. A smirk formed on your lips into a smile with a giggle. He raised an eyebrow and said "what are you laughing at punk?!"

 "It's a turn on to see your cock with markings. Pretty sexy." Sukuna  scoffed, grabbed your wrist, moved them above your head and held them there with one hand. His eyes trailed over the drawn on marking across your chest then looked to your eyes. He grabbed his cock and started to pump himself then slid his tip across your folds. Starting to circle your clit with his tip smearing his cum across your folds. You whimpered more and bucked your hips while your fingers tried to scratch at his hand holding your wrist down. 

 "Sukuna please, I need you."

 "Look at that got you begging for the real king of curses. What is it you want darling this?" He slid just the tip into your entrance feeling you trying to clench around it. "Yes, my king give it to me please. Nothing will ever compare to you." You begged for him, hearing his chuckle. "As you wish my queen." 

 Sukuna snapped his hips forward pushing inside of you making you moan out loud. "Now darling you have to be quiet. The others will hear you." He removed his hand from your wrist then clamped it over your mouth as you felt lips on his palm and a tongue lick your lips. You parted your lips letting the tongue on his hand slip inside your mouth. You hummed against his hand battling the tongue as he started to move his hips, sliding all the way inside you till the base of him.

He let out a heavy groan feeling the warmth of your walls around his shaft and smirked on how you took all of him. When he started to slowly rock his hips you felt his thick cock sliding back and forth inside of you, feeling your walls tight around him. 

 "That is a good girl. Taking me so well already. Fuck your tight. You like to feel my fat cock inside you." You hummed against his hand, making out with the mouth then he pulled it away leaving a string of saliva from both mouths. Sukuna grabbed your hips with a tight squeeze and looked at you with a devilish smile. 

"Don't scream too loud darling."

 As you felt his finger tips dig into your skin as he held you in place with every hard thrust. You gazed at his abs seeing them flex with every thrust then looked up to him, your cheeks flushed. 

"Sukuna more please, deeper."

 Sukuna grabbed your legs and swiftly lifted them to his shoulders and bent you in half. Feeling the new angle made your heart flutter and pussy tighter around him. 

"Yea you like that slut. Hmm tell me who do you belong to?" He pounded into you harder and deeper, hitting your good spot over and over. "Sukuna, I belong to you my king!" Your hands went into his hair and trailed them over his shoulders digging your nails into them. "That is a good girl. My queen. Now let me give you more of what you need."

 His thrust got harder rutting into you feeling your walls tighten his lips latched to your neck sucking and biting. "Yes sukuna right there don't stop!" Your heavy breaths mixed with his grunts as he clawed into your pillow. You know it's been many years for sukuna. So you let him have his way with you beside you enjoying it. His powerful hips rocking your body hearing the bed creak under the two of you. The sound is sex filling your dorm room.

 Sukuna continued to thrust, feeling your wet warm walls squeezing around his cock. "Fuck darling tell me where you want it?"

 You bit your lip, laying your head back and moaned. "Inside me sukuna I want to feel all of you inside me." He chuckled and said "oh dirty girl wants seed, wanting me to fill you up and make a baby in you with the brats cum." 

 You moaned, feeling a pleasure build in your womb as you latched onto him squeezing around him. "Sukuna..I can't hold it." "Let it out my queen. Cum for me. Show me that you're a good girl."

 You yelled out his name, creaming around his cock as he pounded out your orgasm and found his release. Groans of your name filled your ear and painted your velvet walls white. He stopped his thrusts to look at you and smirked. "Don't get tired of me no my love I am not finished with you yet. I will show those sorcerer brats who you belong to." When he pulled out you saw his cock covered with a sheen of white and still stiff. "Let's see if you can handle me darling. I will let you be on top this one time. Don't make a habit."

 Sukuna laid onto his back as you smiled and climbed over him and sat down on his cock feeling it go into you slowly inch by inch. "Too slow brat." He grabbed your hips digging claws into your skin and slammed you down onto him. You gasped out a yelp mixed with a moan then started to roll your hips. "Bet the brat is enjoying the view, probably making a mess of himself." 

 He thrusted up into you hard and with each thrust you could hear the smack of your juices leaking around him and the air being forced out your lungs. He kept a hold of your hips hard, it was going to leave you with bruises later. You didn't care you wanted him to mark you. You wanted the world to know that sukuna did have a soft spot for you.

 Sukuna bucked his hips up watching your breast bounce with each pound of his thrust. Moans and heavy breath escaped you while bouncing on top of him and dug your nails into his wrist. Feeling yourself close you laid your head back chanting his name as sukuna smirked. "Are you my good girl?!" "Yes, Sukuna, I am your good girl!" 

 He chuckled, feeling you ride him and bounce on his cock, the way your walls clamp around him and creaming. "Ahh yes cum darling, lose control on your king." He rutted up into you releasing his seed deep inside you for the second time as you yelled out his name not caring about who hears you. Sukuna pounded your orgasm while you pressed your hands onto his chest and looked at him breathing hard. When you looked at his face you smiled at him then pulled yourself off his cock feeling everything come out of you. Your body laid limp on the bed beside him catching your breath. You noticed his body had smeared of black ink across his skin from the markings you put on yourself, they were also smudged across your body. Sukuna eyed the love bites he left on your neck and shoulders. You looked over at him and smiled then nuzzled against him making him groan and roll his eyes.

 "I am not here to cuddle you. I just needed my release." You smiled and hid your face in the crook of his neck saying "you are still my king sukuna just know I will be here later if you need me." Sukuna smirked saying "I know my queen you can not escape me now."

 Sukuna swapped back with yuji after you fell asleep leaving the boy in shock to see both your naked bodies against each other. Yuji had a deep blush covering his cheeks as he stared at you then placed your blanket over you. Sukuna forms his mouth on yujis hand, chuckling and says "you are welcome brat, but don't get any ideas y/n is mine." 

Ahhh imagine dressing up like him just to see his reaction. I done it before dressing like him and the kimono is so comfy i see why he wears it.

[luxury-nightmare]

Mom says it’s my turn on the writing

He knew something was wrong with that place the moment he took the job. The long narrow hallways bathed in red light, the screams of the patients who were just being ignored, the goggles that obscured the employees faces, making it hard to read their expressions.

The caretakers.

He shivered at the thought of them. He had taken this job out of necessity, not out of want. He was a starving artist by any use of the term, working on commercials, infographics, and other projects to make use of his degree, while his own project was shelved until he had enough money to start working on it.

He has never been particularly social, so when the asylum let him work alone with little to no human contact that was fine with him. The one person he did see on the regular was Alex, and intern who did the voice acting for the training tapes. They were nice enough, trying to talk with him despite his more, eccentric tendencies.

So when he got a call from an unknown number, he just assumed it was from them.

He was right, just not in the way he thought.

“Hello?” He said into the phone. “Oh Mort thank si-God you picked up” Alex’s voice was panicked and breathy. Mortimer raised an eyebrow. “Are you ok Alex?” He asked.

“Not particularly,” they replied, “I might need to stay at your place for a while, can I come over for a minute?”

Mortimer looked at his apartment. Half empty paint tubes and pencils covered in bite marks eclipsed every conceivable surface. An ink stain the size of Antarctica stained his rug, half covered by the papers that littered the floor. “Could I maybe get back to you on that?”

“No time, I’ll find somewhere else if you need it-“

“It’s fine I just need a minute to clean” Mort replied “talk later”

“Oh also there’s something you need to kno-“ Mortimer hung up. Jesus it’s been forever since he’s had a guest.

—————————————————

Alex arrived at his door, out of breath and clearly shaken by something. He looked at them, before gesturing for them to come inside. He had made the place look, less terrible than when he had gotten the call. “You’re a lifesaver Mort” Alex said. “Called you on my burner phone, didn’t know if you would pick up” they muttered to themself.

His eyes dropped to their hands, stained with ink in stripe like patches. He didn’t know they drew.

They turned back to Mortimer, concern in their eyes. “Hey, uh, Mort, there’s something I need to tell you-“

But before they could finish, Mortimer’s vision went weird, every color seemed too bright, and he was suddenly aware of how his clothes rubbed against his skin. The feeling that he was being watched came upon him like lightning, and he turned back towards the door.

Only to be met with a monstrous grin.

Do not trust anyone you see wearing this costume.

The creature was crouched over so it could fit in the doorway, wearing a costume both too big and too small for it. It’s body was thin and boney, dark as night like a rotten corpse drowned in ink, and crooked yellow eyes stared into his soul with hunger, like something out of a nightmare.

He stood, frozen in terror, eyes locked at this thing before him. He had drawn it so many times for the asylums tapes, but any familiarity that could’ve brought was washed away as his breath went ragged and ice rushed through his veins.

Dear lord this was why Alex was so scared on that phone call. They were being chased by that thing, and now they were both going to die. Why did Alex lead it here? Why did he do to deserve this? He shut his eyes tight, waiting for it to end.

“Yeah, I was trying to warn you,” Alex’s voice came from behind him. Mortimer whipped around, staring at them in confusion. “Clyde, this is Mortimer. Mortimer, this is Clyde”.

Mortimer turned back to the demon in his doorway in utterly shock. He watched as the demon rolled its eyes and moved past him with inhuman flexibility, only to stop at Alex’s side, tail curled around their wrist subconsciously.

“Do you think we were followed?” It asked Alex. God it’s voice grated on his ears like sandpaper, an overlapping cacophony stolen from so many different people.

But before Alex could respond, the screech of police sirens pierced the brief silence. Red and blue lights blinked outside Mortimer’s window, and a sense of panic rushed over him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw police officers approaching the open door.

And in a split second, Mortimer made his decision.

He shut the door harshly and gestured to the closet down the hall. Both Alex and Clyde seemed to get the memo, rushing down the hall and piling into the closet. ”hey sir!” Mortimer opened the door again, looking the police officer in the eyes, praying to whatever higher entity their was that he didn’t notice how hard he was sweating.

Dear lord please don’t let him be dripping again

”we have been trailing a wanted criminal, and you two have shared some kind of connection, correct?” The officer questioned. “Nope, no, don’t know who you’re talking about?” Mortimer replied, perhaps a little too quickly. The officer raised an eyebrow.

“One Mx. Alex Willams. You two have worked together.” He stated. Mortimer cursed internally. He wasn’t buying this. “Oh the intern, yeah they voice acted for me a couple times, why?”

“They have been conspiring with the Eastridge demon.” The shock of that was still fresh in his mind, so he put on a convincing enough show of shock. “Do you have anything to do with this?”

“No, no, absolutely not. Don’t know a thing Mr. Officer Sir.” A look of suspicion crossed the officer’s face, and Mortimer’s heartbeat spiked.

“Hold on sir,” a second police officer walked up the the one at the door “this one is, probably not the greatest the interview. He’s a little” she twirled her finger around her head, the indication was clear, and Mortimer suppressed a growl. He know people judge him often, but at least they had the decency to do it behind his back.

The officer nodded and turned around “we’ll be in touch Mr. Gray”. Mortimer looked in relief as they walked back to their cars and drove away.

Mortimer shut his door and rushed to the closet, where Alex and the Demon were packed inside like sardines. The both fell out clumsily. Mortimer looked down at Alex, offering his hand, which Alex gladly took. Once they were back on their feet, Mortimer took a breath.

“Alex”

“What the fuck”.

Inspired by @slimeboygirlfriend fic “Starving artist” and this original idea came from @purplechaosguardian

I’m using this fic to set up some stuff for a later fic I wanna do.

remember what I wouldn’t let die on the old whiteboard?

[quillsareswords]

I gotchu bestie

How about doing Damian's makeup for a Halloween event 👀 I can picture him wanting something cool like a skull

Omfg you're the best 😘

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

WARNINGS: language, a kiss

MASTER LIST in BIO

"Will you hold still?"

"I am holding still. Your hands are shaking."

"They are not–" you suck in a deep breath. "You know what, just. Hang on."

You set the pallet of cheap face paint down on the edge of the sink a little harder than strictly necessary. With both hands now free, you grip his shoulders and steer him to lean against the counter.

He takes a deep breath to resteady himself while you pick the paint back up. He closes his eyes so you can fill in the big black sockets you've already drawn on in eyeliner. "What time is it?"

Your gaze cuts toward his phone, laying face up on the other side of the bathroom sink. "Seven-fifteen. All things considered, we're doing pretty good here." His eyelid twitches like he's about to open it right as you set the brush down, and you have to restrain yourself from snarling.

"You mean, considering we knew nothing of this party until three hours ago?" There's a tone there, squished between his vowels. Blame, irritation—something along those lines. "There were hardly any costumes left on the shelves. It's a wonder you found these." He plucks limply at the skeleton print hoodie and sweatpants set he's wearing. You're wearing an identical one.

"Well, it would have been much easier if–"

"If I'd listened to you and gotten costumes weeks ago, yes, yes, I know. You were right about someone deciding to throw a party last minute."

"I was going to say if somebody wouldn't have insisted we match, but yeah, that too." You chuckle, setting your pinky finger on the bridge of his nose to steady your hand a little better. "But go ahead, keep telling me how right I was."

He cracks open the eye you aren't painting and clicks his tongue. "Firstly, it will be easier to find one another this way. Don't even pretend you aren't enjoying it. Secondly, that's the only time you'll hear it tonight."

You roll your eyes as you go back for more pigment. "Right, because I'm definitely not right about the fact that we should have bought Halloween candy last week. I'm sure the stores will have plenty."

"We won't be here to hand it out on Halloween, anyway, Beloved. We'll be at Father's, remember?"

You switch to his other eye with a moment of warning. "Don't open your other eye until the paint's dry. Yeah I know we won't be able to hand it out. It would be for us, stupid."

He scrunches his nose, creasing some sti-drying paint, and you have to resist the urge to accidentally stab him in the eye. Guess you're gonna have to rinse the brush to change colors again. "You don't think Father will have plenty?"

"I'm sure he will, at his house. I was going to hold you hostage and make you eat it all with me while we binged all of the Time Burton classics, but fine. Whatever. Guess you just don't love me." You turn to set the paint down and reach for a wash cloth to start fixing his nose.

Instead, he plants his hands on your hips and turns you back toward him. He manages to catch you off-guard when he presses his lips against yours. He must be in terribly good spirits, because he's smiling when he pulls away. "Darling, if that's a it takes, I'll rob every child in Gotham to present you with a hoard if candy any king would be jealous of. We'll be so sick by the end of it, neither of us will be able to work the next day."

You tilt your head, gazing gently at him. There's a beat, soft silence drifting through your friend's second bathroom, and he hopes you're swooning on the inside, but then, "That was really sweet, and I love you more than I think I'll ever be able to describe. But you just completely fucked up both of our makeup and I think I'm going to kill you."

[goldrushenthusiast]

Analysis on Snow and Lucy Gray’s relationship, as requested by @mym00nagedaydr3am :).

They definitely loved each other, though their reasons for it may have been out of their control, and it wasn’t true love. That’s the best way I can put it.

Coriolanus Snow- he talked about how he had thought about his future wife before, and how nobody but Persephone the cannibal was really that appealing to him. In drops Lucy Gray. She immediately captured his -and everyone else’s- attention, and in the first thirty minutes of knowing him she saved his life and his reputation. That definitely leaves a mark.

Coriolanus is drawn to things that are unlike the ordinary. We know this because of how he reacts to Katniss and Peeta’s fire costume, and how he reacts to a bunch of their stunts in general. I’m not as huge a hunger game fan as bosas though, so I can’t speak much on that. But, I do know Coriolanus thought (rightfully) about how people from district 12 were “stunted, joint swollen, and always died within the first 5 minutes.” (the beginning of chapter 2). He was surprised by Lucy Gray because she was clean, she had makeup on, and she made an excellent first impression (saving his life & reputation).

This was only amplified further by the fact that Lucy Gray sat down with him, and stood up for herself by demanding he believe she could win it. Coriolanus didn’t see that coming. He fully believed that his tribute would be terrible, and the shock of her not being so gave Coriolanus a bit of a boost in falling in love. He expected the worst, got the best, and the room in the middle had to be filled with love.  

I’d mention how Coriolanus also sees Lucy Gray as his property, and how he’s been raised with that mindset, but tbh that whole “she’s mine, she belonged to me, blah blah blah” part of their relationship is just so weird and off-putting, though it does make sense for his character. Lucy Gray would not be having that though, lmao. 

Now, Lucy Gray- she had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and her ex having sentenced her nearly to death is a great way to move on quickly! 

Lucy Gray likes courage, and bravery. I can’t find any exact quotes at the moment, but Lucy Gray did thank Coriolanus for protecting her & the covey from Mayfair when he killed her at the hob even though it was hard for him. The act of even showing up to the station, how it was a test to see how willing he was, also proves this. 

Lucy Gray also values family, above all else. She tries to make goats milk for Maude Ivory to “bring a bit of happy into her life.” She says the only thing she would miss would be them when she left district 12. Coriolanus accepts her family, and her “crazy” stories about them not being really district fairly quickly. She definitely appreciated that.

Not going to lie, at the beginning, Lucy Gray probably was only flirting to intrigue Coriolanus. In chapter 25, she says “Sure, I flirt with anybody. It’s part of my job.” I believe she still has this mindset when she arrives at the capitol. She is used to living by her charms (and voice), and so that’s exactly what she does. Coriolanus actually treats her with respect, and as a person, opposed to the other inmates & their mentors, so he also leaves quite the good impression on her. 

Their relationship in district 12 takes a different turn, though. At the beginning, it’s fine. She is overjoyed to see him, and finds it very romantic. “You found me.” “You knew I would.” things like that get said to each other often in the beginning. But soon things change. They have the fight about their dads being killed by the other, which I believe is fundamental to their relationship. Lucy Gray thinks that capitol people are all terrible, and by the way Coriolanus jumps straight to defense tells her a lot about him. 

Of course, they make up (and out), and Lucy Gray is very appreciative of how Coriolanus treats Maude Ivory and his “clear” devotion to his friend. I’m quite sure Coriolanus’ relationship with Sejanus was actually quite a bonus point in their own, so when she realized that Coriolanus betrayed him, she realized he could betray her too. 

That’s another thing about Lucy Gray. Trust. She never had it with Billy Taupe, and she thought she had it with Coriolanus, but she actually didn’t. It’s very important to her, so when she realized he had lied to her, she couldn’t just move on from that. 

That’s another one of the most interesting aspects of both of them. How quickly they fell out of love, and towards hate and murder. When Lucy Gray realized that Coriolanus killed Sejanus, and that he’d have no qualms about staying in district 12 now that he got rid of the guns, she knew she had been betrayed. When Coriolanus realized Lucy Gray knew, he easily started shooting at her, albeit not before trying to at least talk. This goes to show how they were both raised. Coriolanus to fend for himself, Lucy Gray to think about what her relationships with everyone around her mean and represent. 

Coriolanus also says that he was “beginning to sympathize with Billy Taupe.” This clearly shows that the second that his relationship with her was over, that he could no longer benefit from it, he turned on her. He said “hell no!” and got out of there with a mind that only amplified what he now thought of her. Vicious, cutthroat, and manipulative, all things he also was. Coriolanus’ victim mindset is also very interesting tbh. 

In the end, I’m very sure Lucy Gray lived. She’s smarter than a lot of people give her credit for, especially Coriolanus (until the last few pages). They wouldn’t have worked out long term, due to their differences in what family meant, what the capitol meant, and just in general how different they were, but just them being together probably changed both their lives. Coriolanus’ for the better, Lucy Gray’s for the worst, which actually represents a lot of what happens in their other relationships (Snow lands on top, Lucy Gray is forgotten.) 

That just made me remember! Lucy Gray’s ballad! A stroke of GENIUS writing. How Lucy gray mysteriously vanishes in the blizzard, how her parents don’t realize how far she is gone until it is too late, how she leaves no trace except in the middle of a BRIDGE, because that’s what they were to each other. A bridge to the other’s life. I might have to make a separate post about this stupid ballad, but yeah. 

If you read this all THANK YOU!! It means a lot :). If not, I don’t blame you, this is probably my longest tumblr post so far lol. I just find this whole book so fascinating. 

[baiabay]

No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2(Current Chapter): Cat & Spider

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name <;33

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Miles sighed, his eyes falling on his sketchbook. Vibrant colours littered the pages, memories drawn in hues of pink, blue, and yellow. He missed them dearly - Aaron, Peter…Gwen. Flipping through the parchment, Miles is reminded of how free he felt when he was with that group. Being Spider-Man hasn’t been the same without them.

Sighing once more, Miles flipped forward a few pages, landing randomly on a sketch of The Black Cat.

His drawing of the notorious thief stretched in a dynamic pose filled the page - form bending a way he’d always thought was comically feline. Sketchbook now in hand, Miles took a closer look at the portrait, focusing on the fur detailing on The Cats’ costume that ended right below that grin.

That signature smile.

Sinister, playful, devious, a myriad of emotions could be interpreted behind it - but the one that was the most clear to Miles… was freedom.

Despite the criminal status of The Black Cat, Miles couldn’t help but feel envious of the thief's display of cockiness. The confidence carried, the lightheartedness - to Miles, all of it just screamed free.

Miles’ daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a nagging tingle down his spine - an alert, signaling danger nearby.

The streets of Brooklyn were calm today, as calm as they could be, a stark contrast to the ever-brightening warning signs that flashed behind Miles’ eyes.

Confused, and slightly panicked, Miles pulled down his mask, swinging out his window, only to be met with… nothing.

Until,

Until that comically feline form zipped right past his face, Cheshire grin painted on.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey!” —————————————

You usually didn’t conduct any…business during the day, and if you did, you usually would swing straight back home through paths hidden in shadows, away from any eyes that may draw attention to your presence. Today, however, was different. You were on a high.

Grappling hook in hand, you weaved your way between buildings, flipping, giggling, and twirling your way through the main roads.

‘What business exactly did you complete in order for you to feel so boastful?’ You might ask?

Well,

Recently, your favourite local feline rehabilitation shelter has been going through some heavy financial trouble, so grave to the point where the owners had to either completely shut down, or sell the company to another organization to make a bit of cash instead.

To the struggling owners, the latter option seemed much more favourable, and even more so, attainable, given that they had already been contacted by an interested buyer.

Millionaire Hernandez Stillwell , owner of Stillwell Pound Co, known for their terrible breeding environments and kill shelters, had been looking to expand his company to Brooklyn Heights, and had offered a few hundred thousand to the poor owners, in exchange for their shelter, and every cat inside.

Long story short, an anonymous donation of a measly 1.3 million dollars may or may not had happened to land into the hands of the feline shelter owners(that may or may not have been attained by illegally selling a stolen diamond necklace), allowing them to carry on with their business without having to sell out to kill shelter scum.

Sporting a Cheshire grin, you proudly took your victory lap through the main roads, passing civilians, cars, Spider-man…

Ah,shit-

“Hey!”

It only took half a second for your heart rate to spike at the sound of the boys’ voice. Swinging yourself faster in hopes of losing the hero, you flipped around now with more purpose. Breath quickened, you wracked your brain wondering why, in the middle of the day, would he be out here?

As if reading your mind, the hero yelled out, also swinging faster in hopes of reaching you, “Why are you out here in the middle of the day?”

You scoffed, “None of your business, Spider-” You quipped back at him, flipping your body to face him in the process. With you now unfocused on your swinging, Miles took this opportunity to sling a line of webbing towards your own hook line - wildly throwing off your center of gravity.

You thrashed around in the air as a few more ropes of web thwipped in your direction, and you suddenly found yourself in a painfully similar position that mimicked your first encounter with the Spider. Rotating slowly, arms glued to your sides, knees pressed together, bundled up in a humiliating cocoon hanging before the young hero.

Contrary to the Spider, you bore no sort of power that aided you to sense the hostility of an enemy. However, even in your dizzy, upside-down state, you were extremely aware of the different energy he was emitting. There were no traces of defensiveness, no jerky adrenaline-fueled movements, no sense of danger, like there was that night you fought. There was only…curiosity?

You sighed before speaking, the dizzy feeling dying down to a low buzz behind your eyes.

“This time I swear, Spider, I’m not up to anything heist-y. You have to believe me. I was just about to head home whe-”

“Are you… okay?”

You blinked. He wasn’t here to turn you in? Make you empty your satchel? Force you to return anything? Your brows furrowed and your lips parted, but no sound escaped you. The hero cleared his throat, his voice suddenly in a much lower octave.

“I saw you with Spot, er- you and The Spot that night.”

At the mention of the villain's name your throat dried up. All of a sudden you were flooded with memories from your unsuccessful heist that night. His hand, hard and cold on your wrist, the pure hate that bled from his voice, the lack of air in your lungs when engulfed by the void-

So caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized the way your body started to shake, the way your breathing quickened.

Miles wasn’t ready for you to react like this. Honestly, he had no idea how you would react at all. Part of him expected for you to throw back some snarky remark, or attempt to distract him to escape your webbed-up position. But there you were, the cocky, always-gets-away-with-it thief, The Black Cat, shaking like a leaf before him. Miles found his hands moving on their own. Removing the webbing and hesitantly wrapping around your form.

Miles parted his lips to fill the silence, replace it with something, anything to get you to calm down. Before he could however, your voice broke the quiet.

“That has never- I’ve never…seen, or-or felt anything like that. It was like - you know me, Spider, you know how these things go and it’s never violent, ever. He was just so strong, and - and it was hard to breathe, and-”

You were rambling now, and Miles listened to every word. He understood exactly what you were talking about, having experienced the strength of The Spot already.

“ -get away with all the time! And yeah, sure, maybe I was a bit too ambitious trying to go for this gem and everything, but had he not gotten it, I could’ve paid for so much, Spider!”

By now your breath had slowed down to normal. Your heart was at a regular rate and the trembling had ceased. You were now sitting, rambling about random heists (which with him as the one that's supposed to catch you, he laughed way too much at some of the *criminal* stories you recalled), smiling softly under your mask and leaned slightly against his side. Sighing gently, you spoke once again.

“Sometimes I just wish things were different, yknow?”

Miles tilted his head in your direction. “Different how?”

“Different like, for me. Sometimes I think, ‘what if it was me that was bitten by that spider?’ or ‘what if I never started stealing altogether?’ Out of all the millions of different outcomes, of different… realities that are out there, I landed in this one. Yknow what I mean?”

If there was anyone who knew what you meant, it was him. There wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t think about his friends. All of them in different universes than him. Ever since the collider incident, there was still a lonely part of his body that wished he was a part of those different universes.

“I know…exactly what you mean. But there’s a first time for everything, right? You always have time to change for the better, Cat. You don’t have to be the bad guy in this story.”

You removed yourself from his side, brows now furrowed.

“No - no, Spider. I can’t just ‘change’.” You stood, arms crossed.

“But you can-”

“But I can’t. This is me”. You gestured to yourself before repeating the action in his direction. “Just like how that is you. The Cat and The Spider. The thief and the hero. We can’t truly change who or where we are. No matter…how much we want to.”

“Wai-”

Miles couldn’t get a word in before you leaped off the building, grappling away with a tensed expression. He sat there for a minute or two, watching your form shrink as you flipped away. He sighed before standing up, and thwipping his way back to his place. He snuck in quietly through his window, given that he’s technically still grounded, changed out of his costume, and proceeded to once again, pick up his sketchbook.

He opened to his drawing of The Black Cat, squinting at the fierce expression he had etched on. Flipping to a blank page, he started another sketch. This one still captured the thief’s likeness, but in a much more gentle light. Miles drew the gentle expression you had on when you spoke, even with minimal features showing through your mask, he still remembered vividly the softness in your face. When finished, he silently deemed the sketch one of the most beautiful in the sketchbook. Setting it down, he threw on his headphones and proceeded to lay on his bed.

Miles closed his eyes, losing himself in the music. Before he could drift off to sleep he was interrupted by a voice he hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.

“Miles!” —----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: sorry for the lack of updates. went through a loss in the family. as always your messages and interaction keep me going! as an apology ill be uploading chapters tomorrow and the day after as well :) Thanks again for all your support and I am forever grateful for those who continue to read my writing despite my inconsistent updates <33

- baia :)

[romanarose]

Leather and Lace Universe: Halloween Special.

TF boys and their respective partners.

Summary: After the events of Will's story and before Benny's story starts, the group gets together for Halloween.

Warnings: a lil drinking, mentions of traumatic pregnancy and birth, brief mention of death by several different means in reference to how kurt cobain, selena, james dean etc died.

AN: currently, I am writing Will's story, For The Longest Time, and have written Take Your Time (frankie's story), after Leather and Lace ended. you can read this without having read TYT or FTLT, just know frankie and jana are back together, Lorelei is Will's girlfriend and the mother of his child and Santi and Laci had a baby. Right now in the time line, it's early summer, so this is a flash forward, and I'll pick back up in the summer during FTLT. I tried to keep things as vague as possible esp in regards to what gender Laci and Lorelei are having, and what exactly is going on with Ben and why Alice is suddenly not invited... but it will be clear as Will's story progresses.

*********************

They all needed this. 

The fall had been hard so far with everything going on with Ben, and the group needed a night away. Without Alice.

Everyone got a babysitter to be able to spend time together and focus on each other for a night. 

Jana’s brother, Jacob, had Rosie, and a very pregnant Jana and very sober Frankie were driving Benny, Lorelei, and Will. Alice was not invited. Santi had originally refused to go all in for a costume, so after seeing the Barbie movie in the summer, Laci and Benny had planned on being Barbie and Ken together. When Benny’s girlfriend vito’d the idea, wanting to be Barbie, Santi had caved and let Laci dress him up. Benny’s disappearance was hurting Laci terribly, and Santi was trying his best to fill in the gaps. Benny spent Halloween weekend with Alice dressed as cowboy barbie and Ken, but had allotted Halloween day for his friends. This was a positive step forward since the more the year went on, the more Ben withdrew. The group of friends valued the time they could get with him.

Will’s mom came to their house to watch their baby, and had offered to watch Santi and Laci’s newborn. They were very hesitant, considering how young the baby was and the circumstances of the birth, but they wanted to see Ben. He’d only been over to see the baby a handful of times.

Santi and Laci were the last to arrive, Laci hanging on Santiago who had an arm around her for support.

“You made it!” Benny shouts, enthusiastic and also drunk, raising his hands as he cheers. He pats Santi’s back, but just smiles at Laci.

Santiago apologized, stating it was hard to say goodbye to their child, even if only for a few hours, then asked everyone to introduce their costumes.

Lorelei was dressed in a 1950’s style dress, hair done up in curls and her signature red lipstick. Will had on a white shirt and red jacket, his hair slicked back. “We’re Judy and Jim from Rebel Without a Cause.”

“Who the hell is that?” Santi asked.

Will butted in. “I’m James Dean, that’s all you need to know.”

Lorelei would not be had. “Who the hell are you?”

Santi wore a suit, his hair also slicked back with way too much hair gel and Laci had drawn on a thin mustache. Laci, for her part, had her straight blonde hair in pig tails and a shimmery two piece club outfit that looked fit for a 60's club dancer. 

“We’re Blue Jones and Baby Doll from Sucker Punch!” Laci announced proudly, Santi helping her do a little spin. She was still recovering from her emergency C-section and needed to take it easy tonight. 

“You know Blue is the bad guy in that movie, right?” Ben asks from the table. “He tries to r-”

Santi shushes him. “AHT! I tried to tell her, she wont have it. She tells me I look like him and she wanted to wear a cute outfit.”

“Even if my body hasn’t bounced back yet.”

Santi turned to Laci chastisingly. “Mi vida, you had a baby 1 month ago, your body looked exactly like it should.” She just kissed his cheek and thanked him, then turned to the others. Laci hadn’t gained much weight during the pregnancy, and in fact began losing weight before the birth.

“Okay, your guy’s turn!”

Jana did a twirl, her long curls flying and the sparkles on her outfit making her look radiant as ever- Jana had a much easier time pregnant, she was glowing. 

“I’m Selena Quintanilla.” She wore a maroon sparkly jumpsuit that flared out at the calved. The outfit had bare midriff that proudly showed Jana prominent pregnancy.

“Oh!” Laci clasped her hands together. “Are you going to do karaoke?”

Jana confirmed she would absolutely be singing Selena.

“And so will we!” Benny proudly announced, pulling Frankie in with his arm. Frankie looked less than thrilled to be doing karaoke, but right now they were just happy Ben was with them.

“And you two are?” Laci asked.

“Kurt Cobain and Chis Cornell! We’re gonna do Hunger Strike, I’ll be singing Eddie Vedder’s part.”

Laci’s jaw dropped in a slightly dejected face. “You guys did a theme without us!”

Jana looked confused. “What, singers? Only three of us are and mostly by accident.”

“No!” She pouted, not seriously sad. “All you guys are people who died young!”

The group looked back and forth at each other, so Laci clarified. “James Dean died in a crash at 24, Natalie Wood was killed by her husband, Selena was shot, and Kurt and Chris committed suicide! We’re left out!”

“Relaje, Laci” Jana pulled her in for a playful hug. “That was on accident. At least your boyfriend didn’t reject a couples costume to dress up with his boyfriend.”

“I’m not Ben’s boyfriend!” Frankie tried to protest, but Benny wasn’t helping.

“Yes, you are.”

Frankie’s smile grew. “Yeah, I kinda am. I did go to pride with you two years ago.”

That caught Lorelei’s attention, looking up from sipping her red wine. “You went to pride?”

“To make sure Ben didn’t get hate crimed or something!”

Jana smiled slyly, enjoying riling him up. “You’ve never gone to pride with me.”

Teasingly, Frankie flicked her shoulder. “Fine, you got me.” Then turned to Laci and Santi. Ben had gone quite at the mention of pride, so Frankie changed the subject. “What would you guys even be if you were famous people who died young, there can’t be that many people who-”

Lorelei had an answer. “Marlyn Monroe and Buddy Holly, next question.”

This erupted into a very adamant denial by Santiago that he would not be caught wearing glasses, Lorelei insisting he’d need them soon, the old man, and Laci and Will looking at each other and laughing.

*

Jana had indeed gone on stage, singing Si Una Vez by Selena. Jana’s spanish was not perfect, having grown up with only one spanish speaking parent, but she could get along in both Somali and Spanish.

“Wow.” Will mused, watching her. Jana was a woman of many skills, and it should not have been surprising she had a decent singing voice. “She’s not even looking at the lyrics.”

Frankie sighed, crossing his arms and huffing as he slid down his seat a bit. “Yeah, she uhhhhh, listened to this song a lot when we broke up.”

Santi patted him on the back and they watched her perform.

Laci watched her friend, and as it ended she turned to Benny. “How are you? Anything new?” She asked him, trying to strike up conversion.

He smiled at her, looking nervous. His eyes kept darting around like he was going to get caught talking to her. “I’m good. How’s the little one?”

“Great.” Laci beamed. “Perfect, actually. Worth everything we went through to bring them here… Maybe you could come by this week?”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I got going on…” Laci knew what that meant. Benny wouldn’t be over. Benny had nothing going on except blacking out drunk and Alice. 

“Okay… you’re welcome over any time, you know that.” Laci was on extended maternity leave. Working at a women’s shelter, they knew the importance of this time with a new baby and they were not in any dire need for her to return just yet. Laci, however, was getting a little stir crazy. Santi was almost always around, Will and Lorelei visited, and Jana and Frankie were over a lot as the godparents. Still, Laci missed her Benny. In the early months of coming back to the states, Benny was her godsend. He treated her like a normal person, and as much as she adored her husband, Santi’s hovering could be a lot. She wanted him with her, and she wanted him to get to know the baby.

“Frankie.” Benny nudged his friend, pointing him to where Jana stood after exciting the stage. She was talking to a very drunk man, looking thoroughly unimpressed and visibly cringing. “Someones trying to steal your girl.”

“Oh now what the hell” Frankie grumbles as he pushed Santi out of the booth. “AYE PENDEJO! SHE’S CLEARLY PREGNANT!” Jana was not the kind of girl to need rescuing, but Frankie would be damned if he left her like that.

For three hours, they all hung out, laughed, sang and drank. Santi even offered to sing karaoke with Laci since Ben had bailed on I’m Just Ken with her, but Laci was a shy singer. She needed someone to carry the show for her. Plus, she knew it would make Santi uncomfortable to be on a stage, and she wouldn’t put him through that.

At around 12, after Benny and Frankie won the couples costume of the night (proving Jana’s point), Laci’s head was resting on Santi’s shoulder.

“Hey Munequita.” Santi nudged her. “You ready to go home?”

Laci nodded sleepily. 

Everyone said their goodbyes, and Santi helped Laci down from the chair and out the door of the bar.

“Wait!” They heard Benny’s voice from the bar doorway, dashing outside without a coat.

Santi and Laci stopped, Benny running up to them but slowing down in time to be careful with Laci. Gentle, he bent down the considerable height difference between them and hugged her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Benny.” Laci teared up, letting go of Santi to hold him fully. “I’m here for you, we both are.”

**************

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten @ellenmunn @hon3yboy

[twstmagica]

Magical Girl Yuu's First Day pt 5.2

***Back to Yuu at Ramshackle ***

She was gathering the least grubby pillows, cushions, and drapes when the rain started. This place was already depressing, between the chilling drafts and foreboding shadows Yuu’s nerves were already on high alert. 

The pitter-patter of rain quickly became a harsh pounding against the walls, and served as the last prop needed to turn this dismal building into the set of a horror movie.

Seriously, Yuu was half expecting a fiend to jump out from around the next corner. Or behind her. Or perhaps from above…

**BANG**

Right on cue the noise reverbs through the building, quickly followed by frantic scratching.

Yuu’s scepter is out and ready faster than you could say “jump scare”.

Ain't no way she’s going down like some extra in the first ten minutes of the movie!

The building rattles and moans, starting quiet but slowly picking up volume.

Yuu approached the hallway exit, weapon drawn and body away from the door. Nudging it open she slowly pans her view (gotta slice the pie!) and fires a low energy bolt inside.

“Nyeh-!”

Gottem!

Wait. She recognizes that voice.

“Gah! It’s you again!”

Fire catcoon!

“What are you doing here!”

[spiderman pointing at spiderman]

In order to escape the storm Grim had broken into the nearby building. 

Soggy and tired, he didn't have the energy to do more than some token threats. 

For her part, Yuu was feeling pretty worn out. 

This may not have been the worst day of her life, but the kidnapping/enrollment to mystery boarding school was still pretty stressful. 

Neither party was eager for another fight, but that wasn't up to them.

While the two were posturing the rattling had only gotten closer.

“Oho? Some new residents?”

“A ghost?!”

The disturbance is a lot closer now

“I’d love it if we could play…”

Two more ghosts phase through the wall, escaping whatever was making the racket on the other side.

“...But, ah, now isn't really a good time.”

The wall breaks as a being of dread and bloodlust enters the room.

Grim freaks out.

Yuu freaks out.

“Oh shit that's an upyr!”

“A what!?”

“It's a type of fiend made from dead people,”

It takes a swipe but the group is already running

“They're weak to light and fire based attacks!”

This one looked different from the pictures. Kinda raggedy, like it's malnourished.

“Hey kid, you seem familiar with this thing. Think ya can lend a hand?”

“Sure can, this is what I’m trained for!” Theoretically that is. 

Actually, this was Yuu’s first time seeing a upyr in person.

 But the one before them is looking pretty mangy and worn out. Like a humanoid representation of the building they're in right now. So she would probably be fine.

Guess I should do my thing.

[Hope’s Guiding Light, Ardent Dream, Awaken!]

My uniform shimmers into place around me

“What the fuck?”

Guess he’s never seen a magica before.

The catcoon was so caught off guard that the upyr nearly got him.

Thankfully one of the spooks blasted them out of the way.

“Mya! Don’t hit me!”

“Better a kick to the butt than to kick the bucket!”

I got you fam

[Dreamer’s Blessing]

A spray of butterflies engulf Grim and the ghosts.

The group exclaims about feeling stronger.

I love support spells, the best way to heal someone is to make sure they wont need healing.

“Ghosts! Harass the fiend and keep it distracted! Grim blast your fire! If we stall it long enough I can charge up my [Hope’s Smite]”

“How are you doing that with your voice?”

“Doing what?”

No questions, just fight.

Thanks to our incredible teamwork, but mostly the upyr’s already terrible state, we actually managed to destroy it, along with the building.

“We did it! Myeh? What’re you doing?!”

Yuu had begun to stomp on the upyr’s remains, before kicking the leftover ashes into the wind.

“Just in case” she says before sitting with a tired huff.

Grim gets to watch as the pink costume disappears with a sparkly light.

On one paw, Grim really wants to demand answers.

On the other paw…. It's been a really long day.

Crowley shows up to find Yuu and Grim huddled under some rubble.

“What have you done!?!?”

Great timing birdman.

Yuu and Grim trip over themselves to explain how this instance of property damage wasn't their fault.

Crowley remembers that ah yes there were ghosts here but that they wouldn't have done this much destruction.

The duo insists that they were fighting for their lives.

Then the ghosts come out and corroborate that there was a monster attack.

Ghost B explained that something had broken in a couple days ago and they were searching for the intruder to ‘play’ with them.

At first it just hid, but with each sunset the trespasser grew bolder, until it started outright attacking them at night.

The Ramshackle ghosts were worried that it was only a matter of time before the intruder started attacking, and possibly killing students.

And Crowely would know all this if he paid more attention to his school.

“Yes, well-!”

Ramshackle has been vacant for so long! How can he be expected to pay attention to such an obsolete part of the campus?

Please ignore the fact that he had tried putting Yuu here…

What is more important is the fact that this fiend, as Yuu named it, had reached the school in the first place.

The headmaster revealed that for the past decade similar creatures had been appearing in Twisted Wonderland, but the authorities have been working to keep this out of public view. 

Even S.T.Y.X had gotten involved due to the blot-adjacent nature of these beings.

Well, Yuu doesn't know what blot is, but her home has been dealing with friends for centuries.

Crowely tries berating Yuu, saying this was supposed to be her residence.

She’s like dude chill I can just set up some sheets.

It'll be just like camping.

Birdman backtracks and says she'll just have to spend the night in the infirmary.

He tries to shoo Grim away, but Yuu is still feeling solidarity from the attack and insists the catcoon stays with her. 

For his part, now that he knows there might be more fiends out there, Grim isn't super psyched to go back into the forest.

Crowely gives in, with the caveat that Yuu is responsible for Grim’s behavior from now on.

“Yeah sure whatever.”

Ends with Yuu and Grim saying goodnight in the infirmary.

[keepsmagnetoaway]

Giant-Size X-Men 1 (May 1975)

Len Wein/Dave Cockrum

Here we...here we...here we fucking go!

This is the most important X-Men comic ever published: more important than the very first issue, even. This is also going to be a heinously long post, so strap in.

Notwithstanding the last, uh, six months of posts, this is where X-Men really starts, with it re-starting. In the mid-70s, the team had been without a book of their own for years but sporadic guest appearances had kept the characters present in the minds of readers: many of those guest appearances had been written by Len Wein, who in 1974 became editor-in-chief at Marvel and decided to revive the X-Men, but cautiously: he was going to put out a special large-format issue introducing a new team, and then follow it with further occasional large-format issues, maybe three or four times a year. He wrote the first issue, and got Dave Cockrum to draw it, creating a number of new mutants for the team's rebirth and introducing them all in a series of virtuoso sequences. I'm trying to resist the urge to just post this entire comic, but snippets will have to suffice.

Right away - this is page 1 - we see that the issue of prejudice and fear is back at the centre of the X-Men story, where it has always belonged. Not all the characters were totally new, though: one of the had been seeded a few months ago in Incredible Hulk, as we have seen.

Banshee, meanwhile - who, as we know, is canonically a country music freak - was also returning (slight sigh).

That's an interesting start - three characters and none of them Americans - but what about some non-white characters, huh?

So. The introduction and framing of the non-white, non-Western characters in this issue - and in this run of X-Men, to some extent - is obviously, shall we say, heavy-handed.

And yet, here they are - the characters exist, and I think it's important that they are drawn from all over the world: the comic is working hard to emphasise that and in doing so slips over and over into caricature in the interests of foregrounding diversity. It's not great - it's aged pretty terribly, in isolation - but with the knowledge of where these characters (particularly Storm) end up it's difficult to read any of this as actively bad, I think.

Certainly the clunkiest of these introductions is that of John Proudstar, the Apache, and it's surely no coincidence that...well, we'll get to that.

So, there they all are.

And here is someone you do recognise.

This is a long section of set-up, (re)introducing Cyclops and explainign where the others have gone: Jean, Bobby, Warren, Lorna and Alex have all gone missing on a mysterious island that seemed to house a super-powerful mutant (Beast, the X-Man we've seen most of during the hiatus, is now fully off doing his thing with the Avengers and is not involved).

There's so much going on here: we of course are all totally familiar now with the original X-Men, but some reader picking this up in 1975 very likely wouldn't have been, so here they are crammed in and then immediately disposed off. Shout-out also to Cockrum's art here, of which we'll have much more to say as we go on, but it does a huge amount, packing in character designs, costumes, action and plot while still leaving room for effect and emotion that, at times, ism almost Neal Adams-like (here, as you can see, Cyclops was briefly depowered when escaping the island, though he gets them back).

Also, here's our next big theme: infighting, introduced when Sunfire quits and then re-joins the team in the space of a single page. This is both foreshadowing and a sign that this issue was maaaaybe trying to do a bit too much.

But fuck it, this issue is great. Can you imagine the sheer richness of picking this up on a newsstand as a kid. All these characters! All this lore! All this potential! And then we get to the action of the issue, as the team fights its way across Krakoa, which is a kind of pulp nightmare landscape.

Enjoy the drama, the design, the style of this whole page: the looming temple, the strange angles, the sinister greyness of the final panel. Everything here is at the top of its game.

And then the big - if slightly obvious - reveal that the mutant is the island itself. This art kicks ass, and in the meantime introduces another thematic strand in the whole nuclear testing/cold war/mutation angle.

The final action sequence is bersekly brilliant, full of ambitious layout choices and complex storytelling that pulls of the goal of showcasing all the various disaparate X-Men and getting them to work together.

Eventually the fire the entire island into space (??) and the issue finally runs out of room and ends.

So, yeah. This issue was so obviously great, and such a success, that plans changed, and instead of occasional big stories like this, X-Men was revived as a regular monthly book: or rather, because it was still being printed but only with re-runs of original era stories, it was revamped as a book with new stories, starting with issue 94.

That's where this read will go next - and, guided by my trusty reading guide, we'll go right through for about 50 issues with only occasional guest appearances in the meantime, returning us at last to the one long on-going soap opera that is X-Men at their peak. Can't wait!

[lutiaslayton]

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　０６

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

＊ “The Eternal Kingdom”

All throughout the opera, I could not take my eyes off Janice Quatlane, who played the role of the Queen. It was the first time I saw her in action, and her costume made her look stunning. That white dress and crown suited her so well. She radiated some dignified nobility, with her uplifted cheeks and her big, lively, shining eyes…

And above all else, her beautiful singing voice, which descended from the heavens at the same time as my gaping mouth…

Miss Janice was not just playing as the Queen of Ambrosia. She seemed to be the Queen herself.

No wonder the people of the kingdom swore respect and loyalty to the Queen, I thought as I recalled how the legend started.

“Luke, look over here,” the professor whispered in my ear. “This is the Detragan, an instrument that Oswald Whistler created recently. I heard rumours saying that one person alone could create with it a sound on the same scale and depth as an entire orchestra, but this goes beyond my expectations. It’s really beautiful.”

It was only when he started speaking to me that I was able to detach my attention from Janice.

Looking in the direction he was pointing to me, I had to admit that the Detragan was the strangest instrument I had ever seen. In some ways, it reminded me of a pipe organ; but in terms of size and the massive tone it gave, it was unlike any instrument I had ever seen.

The way the pipe ends were spreading out with the melody… It was as if the Detragan itself had a life of its own.

Meanwhile, Mr Whistler’s expression and vigour as he played all alone was rather uncanny.

Still, my gaze soon went back to Janice, as I was drawn in by her voice once again.

“It’s Janice who is beautiful, Professor…”

I gave a small sigh. I felt so happy in this moment… Even the great mystery of the eternal life had completely left my mind. I wanted to hear the Queen of Ambrosia sing forever.

When the opera came to an end, I was the first to jump out of my seat and give a hearty round of applause.

“Bravo!”

But, strangely enough… Only the professor did the same.

All the other spectators sat in silence, immobile. The air in the theatre was heavy.

“Professor, why aren’t they clapping…?”

Suddenly, the lights went down and the theatre fell once more into complete obscurity. A single spotlight illuminated the stage where Miss Janice had been singing earlier.

Inside the circle of light, stood a lone masked man.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Crown Petone Theatre.”

Every move of that man, who was dressed in a harlequin-like costume, was overly theatrical and exaggerated, giving a terribly eerie impression.

“You are all very lucky. Very lucky indeed. For tonight, we shall witness a miracle.”

I was overtaken by surprise when an ovation suddenly erupted from all over the place.

“Bravo!”

“At last, we can see the main performance.”

“I swear, this was designed to make us sleepy.”

From everywhere around us, the voices of the audience were enthusiastically welcoming the masked man. He responded to all this applause with another exaggerated gesture.

“And now… as it was promised to you all when you bought your tickets, one of you here will be gifted eternal life.”

“Eternal life!?” I shouted out in shock, looking up at the professor right after.

“It appears that we were the only ones not in the know, Luke.”

Like the gentleman he was, he had remained calm and went back to sit down in silence. I followed his lead; after all, I am his apprentice number one. I couldn’t just wallow in this sort of thing.

Still, my mind was clouded with my confusion. I had not expected the puzzle of Eternal Life to appear before us so quickly.

My heart wasn’t ready yet for this. What on Earth was going to happen now? That masked man, who could it possibly be?

“However, there is one condition,” he continued.

“A condition…?”

Someone in the audience had just repeated his words, as if to echo everyone else’s thoughts.

“We invite you all to take part in a certain game. Eternal life shall be gifted to the winner; as for the others… their ‘lives’ will have to be the gift.”

Immediately, the audience began to murmur.

“Give our lives…? What is he talking about?”

The masked man continued with his tale, undisturbed.

“If you want to obtain a miracle from this world, you should all be ready to pay the price…”

“Eternal life or instant death… It can only be one or the other. Is this what he means?” a glamorous middle-aged woman said huffily.

Many other spectators were pale and horrified.

“This has to be a prank! They never said anything about this!”

A bearded man in a strange hat exclaimed in a very loud voice: “I only have half a year left to live, so that’s good for me. Game or no game, I’m happy to be here!”

Some members of the audience were reminded once again that this was not a dream, but that all of this was really happening. This eternal life was not going to be available unless they were prepared to give their own life.

“I— I’m going home! Let me go home! Now!”

A woman in the audience chose to make her disapproval heard, and her scream triggered a whirlwind of panic in the theatre. Many stood up from their seats and hurried to the passageway. They pushed each other out of the way, heading for the exit. Resounding screams, yells and angry voices, all filled the back of the room…

And then, one by one, the actors who had been until now playing the roles of the kingdom’s people on stage removed their costumes, revealing that they all carried weapons in their hands.

They surrounded the spectators who were trying to escape. The next moment, part of the theatre floor seemed to have given way, and every single one of these spectators disappeared into the abyss.

It had all taken place in an instant. Only their screams trailed off and lingered inside the theatre… though only for a bit. Soon, silence returned.

I couldn’t move.

“P-Professor!”

He dashed towards the stage. Without a second thought, I followed right behind him.

A man ran past us and made it first. Wait, this was…

A massive chest… A solid pompadour… No doubt, he was…

“I am Inspector Grosky, of Scotland Yard!”

He jumped on stage, and in a flash, he had already twisted the masked man around and cuffed his wrist, keeping the other end of the handcuffs around his own.

“I had heard that a shady deal was going to take place at the Crown Petone Theatre, and so I had decided to attend while undercover. But I was far from expecting this to be a trade using lives!”

The inspector took out his police badge with a practised hand, showed it around, then put it back in his jacket again. As soon as he turned to the audience, he shouted as loudly as a stage actor:

“Everyone, you are all good to go. The criminal has just been apprehended by Inspector Grosky of the Yard!”

Now that he was in the spotlight, he proudly boasted his achievement, with his chest protruding even further than usual.

“Inspector, are you sure this is the case?”

I think the inspector did not appreciate that the professor’s words had interrupted his moment of triumph.

“What the— Is that you, Layton?”

“It has been a while.”

The inspector looked down at me. “And you must be…”

He remembered me. We had first met during the ‘Specter’s Flute’ incident in Misthallery.

“I’m Luke Triton,” I responded.

At that moment, the masked man’s hand suddenly twitched. Then his entire body went limp… limp… limp… The way he moved was not human. It sent shivers down my spine.

“What on Earth—!?”

The masked man’s body then began to swell and expand, like a balloon.

The inspector’s eyes widened in horror. “A-a puppet!?”

Meanwhile, the theatre was hit by strong vibrations. There was another scream in the hall, but one much deeper than before. This scream was made of cracking noises, getting louder and louder…

I looked straight up with a start when I found the origin of that sound.

“Professor, the ceiling!”

Through some sort of unseen mechanism, the sections of the theatre making up its ceiling opened up one by one, slowly revealing the night sky. The professor was just as shocked when he saw.

At that moment… The masked man had completely turned into some sort of mixture between a puppet and a balloon, and Inspector Grosky floated in the air, swept alongside it, since they were still handcuffed together.

“Inspector!”

The professor and I rushed to catch him, but he rose up into the air too quickly. The next moment, the balloon collided with the pointy end of a chandelier, and was pierced. With the force of the gases that rushed out from the tear, the inspector and the puppet both flew around at high speed… and quickly disappeared into the expanding night sky.

As the professor’s face contorted in regret, a deep laugh suddenly echoed throughout the whole theatre. It was the same voice that had pretended to be the puppet. I could see it now… The puppet had just been a decoy, but the one hiding behind it was very real.

His voice rang out happily, as if the opera had never ended, and he were announcing the beginning of a new act.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, let us sail along the path to eternal life!”

Sail…?

Once again the theatre shook violently, and screams filled the area.

“Luke!”

“Yes!”

The professor and I rushed out of the theatre. When I opened the door and jumped out to the front, the sight was so unexpected that I screamed.

The bridge connecting the Crown Petone to the coast was just about to collapse with a roar.

There was some more rumbling… and the last debris fell into the sea, one stone at a time.

This was no longer a theatre. The building sped up, glided over the sea, and started rapidly moving away from land.

The professor couldn’t help but mumble in shock: “The theatre…”

“It turned into a giant ship!”

I never thought that this beautiful theatre was actually meant to move across the sea like this!

I could only stare at the coastline, which was getting smaller and smaller. Soon, several other spectators came out of the hall, which had now become the deck of the ship, and stared in stunned panic at the sea that was surrounding us.

“Oh my God…”

These had been the words of the man who claimed earlier that he only had six months left to live.

“I can’t believe it…”

And this had come out of the mouth of an old man who was dressed like the captain of a luxury ship. Indeed, he seemed to be at a loss regarding what he should do.

At that moment, a muscular young man jumped onto the deck railing.

“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?”

The woman who stopped him from jumping was gorgeous. She looked to be quite well-off, perhaps to the point that she could afford to go out watching operas every day.

“I’ll just dive and swim to the shore!” the man replied to her.

I wondered if he could be some sort of athlete, with the energy and ease he showed when he jumped on the railing…

“That would not be a wise course of action.”

As he said this, the professor pointed down below. Around us, the sea was teeming with sharks. They were deliberately circling the Crown Petone, coveting their prey.

“I never thought that sharks would enter the waters around here, this rarely ever happens…”

The old captain who had said this twisted his neck so he could see.

So these sharks had been released into these waters on purpose? To stop us from escaping…?

All of this had been carefully prepared from the start, in meticulous detail. Once again, I felt a chill run down my spine.

At that moment, the sea breeze brought a song to my ears.

A song…? At a time like this?

But soon, it became inaudible. I wondered if it was just my imagination…

With this in mind, I followed the professor back inside the theatre.

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

[ravensvirginity]

What do you think should Raven’s eye color be? Blue, grey, purple, red, or yellow?

And in your eyes what would be the perfect redesign for Raven, a updated George Perez look or a mix of old and new elements (gem belt, purple hair with star earrings and a robe, something like that)

Gray!! Definitely gray. A lot of the time in NTT her eyes were drawn as the same light blue that many characters got at the time as the default, but I've always loved the textbox descriptions of her eyes as steel gray.

I'd be okay with brown eyes, but I prefer gray. I really don't want her to have purple eyes. It's just really random imo, if she's going to have a nonhuman eye color it should be the same as Trigon's. Red or yellow eyes could work, but I personally think she should have a human eye color when she's not in her demon form. Eyes are such a focal part of Trigon and demon Raven's designs so I think it works better and is more dramatic for her eye color to change when she transforms.

To answer the second question, definitely an updated George Perez look. I don't think her comic design should have any influence from the cartoon at all. Definitely not purple hair, every design they've done in the comics with purple hair has been terrible imo. I honestly think they've never improved on the Perez design and if I magically got creative control I'd just put her back in the exact same outfit, but I do get that they have to update the costumes every few years.

I actually don't really dislike her current costume.

I love the Perez influence and I don't really have any faults with the way they modernized it. My main complaint is that she doesn't have her rings anymore but she hasn't had them for a long time. And I wish they'd bring back the big earrings. The main issues with her current design (and they are big issues imo) are what she looks like out of costume, but the costume itself is fine. Especially if she has her hood up.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 1 Part 13 (Spooky Day Scandal!)

Holly joined Heather at Sherman Bagley High School and started spending more time with Kristopher Bell, the eldest son of Michael Bell and his wife Cecilia. The young teens had known each other since childhood because their parents were friends, and once they passed puberty, they started to see each other in new ways. It wasn’t long before they were boyfriend and girlfriend, as innocent as such love could be in ninth grade. Their parents were supportive but kept watchful eyes over them. When Heather and Holly wanted to throw a Spooky Day party for their friends, their parents attended as chaperones.

But Heather’s first big party-planning blunder came when she realized she’d forgotten to call it a costume party on the invitations. She thought it was a given since the party was on Spooky Day, but when only her family was dressed for the holiday, she realized she’d made a mistake. She still pulled out the pumpkin carving station and baked spooky-themed sugar cookies for guests to enjoy, but she felt a little silly in head tails and blue body paint as a Twi’lek while her friends were in party dresses.

Everett came with Malia and their younger brother, Kash, and Bob and Annette stopped by to visit Daisy and Neal, but Spencer was on vacation with her family in Selvadorada and couldn’t be there. Heather didn’t mean for anything to happen, but this was the most time she’d spent with Everett since he and Spencer started dating. She’d missed him, and her feelings hadn’t gone away. They danced and she saw him noticing her elaborate costume with its form-fitting tank top.

She invited him outside to stargaze even though the weather was overcast and cloudy, and in the moonlight the moment overtook them. Years of unsaid feelings came out in their kiss – Heather’s first, with anyone. But rather than the twinge of butterflies Holly described from kissing Kris, Heather was immediately filled with guilt. She made an excuse and put herself to bed, but rather than head home, Everett lingered in the village. He couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

(NOTE: No, I'm far too much of a noob to have screencapped any of this and yes it is terrible. I have so many regrets.)

Everett loved Spencer. He’d been head over heels for her since they were children, but everything with Heather was just easier – except for Heather’s own inclination to pull back and bury herself in her studies. She was already so driven, while Everett was more than a little afraid to grow up. He turned to his mother’s grave hoping for guidance, drawn to the Holy Book and the scripture of the Watcher to make sense of his feelings. He wanted his life to mean something. He didn’t want to be defined as a cheater. He made his way along the River Bagley, through Old New Henford where Spencer lived with her family, and on to Lord Volpe’s ruins in the Bramblewood to think.

This had always been his favourite place in Henford, and not just because addictive chocoberries grew wild among the broken stones. Said to have been planted by Lord Volpe himself, Henford was the only place in Simlandia where chocoberries were known to grow wild, and this was celebrated at Finchwick Fairs when bakers in town would try to out-do each other with their best chocolate pies. But there were no locals around to pick berries tonight, and Everett could be alone with his thoughts beneath the stars.

He wandered back to the Nesbitt house and found River up late, amped up on too much Spooky Day candy. River clumsily admitted he saw Everett kiss his sister and Everett panicked. He begged him not to say anything, and to protect his sister’s reputation, eleven-year-old River easily agreed. Still, Everett spoke with Heather when she woke up. She’d been so wracked with guilt she slept horribly, and when he asked if she’d ever date him, she sputtered that she’d never want to hurt Spencer or ruin her friendship with him. Everett pushed away his disappointment.

Where would Heather and her crush on Everett go from here? ->

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