#will post the link shortly! >:)

[theoldkyokodied]

posting the cover i drew for my macden playlist real quick while yelling GAY!!! GAY!!! GAY!! just like any respectable person would

[malacandrax]

Sex worker/Charity worker Halstarion AU

---

AU TAG

To read them in order:

[Part 1- Meeting]

[Part 2-Embellish]

[Part 3-Theory]

[Part 4- Number]

[Part 5- Bruise]

[Part 6- Scenic]

[Part 7- Nice Things]

[Part 8-Pizza]

[Part 9- Want]

[Part 10- Tuesday]

[Part 11- Epilogue]

---

The hotel line isn't really relevant any more since I've worked more on the plot! But it's in character to lie lmao.

[tagged ' halstarion sw au ' if you want to blacklist]

[wasyago]

being dead is not an excuse to walk around with blood all over your face

[leenfiend]

what’s ur type?

first next >

[didderd]

Rice (Tourette's Nightmare)'s ref!

The big boss of the Rice Crispy Treats. Records and archives aus. (link to the masterpost/lore post for the Crispies.)

[lovethytendytenderly]

Exeunt by The Oh Hellos (Part 1)

(Part 2) (Part 3)

sources: x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

[gaylittlebillionaires]

the terror characters as songs from the white album (the beatles by the beatles)

inspired by the hickey playlists both having a beatles song on them and also by my own terror playlists (which i’ll post at some point i’m sure), i started thinking about it and then couldn’t stop until i made this

john irving

starting off strong, this song is what made me make this post mostly just bc i think it’s so fucking funny as a jirv song. but it also does tie in with his moral superiority complex and deeply-seated repression (and JACKO MENTION ‼️ ofc)

francis crozier

i think one of the most defining aspects to francis’s character is the sheer exhaustion he feels from the overwhelming weight that is on his shoulders. this emphasises his frustration of his position in society, of being rejected by sophia, of being overlooked. also ties in with his alcoholism and self-hatred.

cornelius hickey

famously, the song that supposedly inspired the murders of charles manson. while my guitar gently weeps is also a Certified Hickey song ofc but i wanted to use something that wasn’t on dave’s playlist. honourable mention: piggies - also very him and his disillusionment with authority.

james fitzjames

for the uninitiated, julia was written about john lennon’s late mother julia who he was estranged from for a long time (having grown up with his aunt and uncle) before meeting her again as a teenager and then having her tragically die shortly. i feel this ties in with a lot of james’s conflict over the nature of his birth very well. also OCEAN MOTIF!!! :) honourable mention: cry baby cry - i almost made this the jfj choice for “can you take me back where i came from, brother can you take me back?”

harry goodsir

if anyone on the expedition is the son of mother nature it is goodsir. his deep devotion to and unending appreciation of the beauty of the natural world (even in the face of horror) is so definitive to his character to me.

edward little

i apologise for giving ned one of the suicide songs on this album but it’s so him i had to i’m sorry. even just for the line ‘lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime’ alone. also the concept of ‘needing a fix’ ties in with him aiding crozier’s alcoholism by stealing the alcohol for him.

thomas jopson

now this is THE jopson death scene song to me. the juxtaposition of the descriptions of the overindulgent english desserts and the imagery of pain, sweat, and rotten teeth is very fitting. i have sooo many thoughts on this one actually and jopson’s internal conflict over and resentment towards his position.

john bridgens

objectively the sweetest love song on the album and the one that i think best encapsulates bridgens and his deep devotion to peglar.

thomas blanky

of everyone in the show, blanky definitely encapsulates the ‘life goes on’ attitude the most, even in death. also pretty certain this man is the only one on the entire expedition with a happy marriage (besides franklin.)

silna

i feel like this fits w silna’s struggle to control tuunbaq and the concept of ‘waiting [her] whole life for this moment.’ also giving this to her just because she deserves something nice and it’s a lovely song.

[redo-rewind-if]

Victoria/Victor Zhang (she/her or he/him | 31) often seems cold and serious, wielding their glare like a weapon. But you know there must be more hidden under the surface.

Victoria keeps her straight black hair in a neat, short pixie cut. Usually gelled back without a strand out of place.

Victor prefers to wear his straight black hair long, held in a tidy ponytail. You'd wager it hit around his waist, if he ever wore it down.

They have honey brown eyes, pale skin, and cheekbones that could cut glass. V stands at a respectable 5'8" with an elegant build. They don't have any visible scars but they do have a small beauty mark just to the left and below their bottom lip.

V is practically always seen wearing formal business attire. A suit, perfectly polished loafers, with a tie neatly in place. Pinstripes. They tend to stick to a monochrome color scheme with the occasional navy blue.

August Astaire (he/him | 27) is an interesting man, always wearing a dagger sharp grin you can't tell is real or fake.

His dark brown wavy hair falls messily down to his shoulders in a way that should look terrible but (unfortunately) doesn't. Complimented by his fair skin and pale green eyes.

August is on the taller side (5'11"), with a slender but muscular build. He has numerous scars, the most notable of which runs up from his jaw onto his right cheek. He also has a couple of tattoos, including a full sleeve on his left arm made up of thorny red roses and black butterflies.

August is most well known for his signature red coat he wears nearly year round. Yes, even in the summer. Beyond that, he is often seen wearing plunging v necks, tight pants, and boots. His entire wardrobe seems to be nothing but black and red with not a single other color in sight.

Amara Ingram (she/her | 25) carries herself with a sunny, carefree disposition. But don't underestimate her, appearances can be deceiving after all.

Her shoulder length black hair falls in tight curls that halo her head, her warm brown eyes shine with an unexpected cunning, all complimented by her dark brown skin.

Amara stand proudly at 5'5" with a fairly average build (not extremely slim nor very muscular). She has a handful of scars on her hands, arms, and legs from a few small engineering accidents. (Nothing to see here! I swear!)

She prefers comfortable, practical clothes above all else. Loose fit jeans, chunky sweaters, sneakers and sandals all rank among her favorites. She leans towards a more neutral color palette with some small pops of bright color here and there as accents.

[free-luigi-mangione]

i know they're screening letters but i don't think they throw away letters where people are like "i've seen that baby pic of yours, you look so cute!!" like i'd consider that creepy too because people had to dig his social media profiles to find those you know? or letters in which they act like they know him, like i'd freak out tbh. and i don't think they throw them out because it's nothing "bad" or prohibited according to the guidelines. there's this girl on reddit whose letter was in his log and by the things she writes on reddit i just know it must've been the equivalent of what i would've written to harry styles when i was 12 lol. don't even get me started over the fact that some people have sent or at least had the intention to send nudes?? those 100% didn't go through ofc but just the fact that they thought it was a good idea… get checked asap pls. i don't even want to imagine what he'll get when he gets out. and yes, i hate when they start calling him names and such. i'm on reddit too but i mostly lurk and when i comment, i always use hypoteticals and the furthest i've gone is saying that maybe he felt disconnected with everyone when he decided to disappear and specified that i was just speculating. it costs nothing to be mindful, some people are just think they're smarter and they just decide things, like "he's narcisisstic" wow, you've decided so??

wait what letter are you talking about?? i haven't seen or heard about that one

and yeah i sincerely hope people aren't trying to be incredibly parasocial/creepy in their letters to him, like he's a fellow human, please treat him as such, how'd you feel if somebody you don't know at all sent you a letter like that?? just treat people the way you'd want to be treated, with respect and dignity, it can't be very hard to do

also disclaimer: never ever send anything that compromises your safety because be sure that even if he doesn't receive letters that the COs deem inappropriate, the COs themselves are 100% going through the letters and could possibly do whatever they want with it

[sergeantjessi]

Wait hang on why isn't my gifset showing up D: Are the ditties too powerful for tumblr.....? I guess I should've expected that but still.... rude....

[snekky-arts]

Please excuse the disappearance of links to my commission form and info, renovations are underway!

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Multiamory Month, Day Sixteen: Outsider POV (All The Fairytales AU)

We're past the halfway point of Multiamory March (as per @polyamships) now, and today's prompt is an interesting one: "Outsider POV!" As in, what does all this polyamorous nonsense look like to someone OUTSIDE the actual polycule?

Well, to a noble couple from another kingdom in my All The Fairy Tales AU (otherwise known as "Ever Ever After") who keep getting wedding invitations from the royal family of Dort, it looks very weird indeed. XD Yeah, when I saw this prompt, I immediately wanted to do something with somebody reacting to the fact that, at the end of all the fairy-tale-related shenanigans outlined in that post (seriously, there are too many to recount here), Prince Victor Van Dort ends up getting married four times. So here is exactly that! Hope you enjoy. :)

--

“So – Prince Van Dort is getting married again.”

“...beg pardon?”

“I’m serious. Here’s the invitation. It was delivered right before breakfast.”

“What the – this is the fourth in as many months! How can he have gotten married four times already?! No one’s wives drop dead that fast unless they’re being poisoned, and – well, the rulers of Dort may not be the most refined, but they’re not killers! Not to mention, if there had been any royal funerals, we would have been invited to those too! We got one for when they thought he was dead! Just – what is going on here?!”

“Well, dearest, you’ll be pleased to know that I myself met with the messenger who delivered this invitation, and was able to ask him what was going on. And he was able to give me an answer.”

“Really? Out with it, then! Please explain to me why this young man keeps getting married!”

“Simply put, it’s because Prince Van Dort fell in love with four people. And apparently Dort has an old law on the books that makes polygamy legal for the royal heir if they have no brothers or sisters.”

“...what? So – wait. All of his previous wives are still alive?”

“Indeed – well, for a given value of such. Remember wife number two, Lady Emily Merrimack? Mermaid.”

“Oh. That explains that wedding being on the beach...but – still. The princess-consort is – fine with all this?”

“Yes – as per the messenger, the former Princess Everglot, Lady Merrimack, and Lady Liddell are all dear friends. In fact, there’s rumors that the princess-consort and Lady Merrimack might be a bit – closer than that.”

“...huh. Well, it’s not our kingdom, so...who is he getting married to this time?”

“Smiler, Minister of Joy, of the Alton Towers Fairies.”

“...um–”

“The law also does not specify that any of the extra spouses need to be women. Or human. And even if it did – would you want to argue with one of the group they call the Secret Weapons of Alton Towers?”

“...we’re going to have to send a really good gift for this one, aren’t we?”

“I think it would be a smart idea, yes.”

[elibean]

alright alright alright. so like....at this point, where lg jumps back, the room looks pretty different, no? nothing on the desk, no pictures, even the bookshelf on the left looks pretty barren. so....are we to assume cxs's death is pretty early in the timeline? rather, early on when lg met him?

it could be that cxs has been dead for a while and so the room has been cleared, but we know that can't be the case since lg still had blood on him so

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: CAMP ZERO by Michelle Min Sterling.

Up next! I'm daisy-chaining my way through Winter Themed Books, and this one felt like a good next link after ICE CUBE.

[aparticularbandit]

The Illusion of Choice: Junko Enoshima and Conjunction Junction

Summary: The imminent frustration of having to teach every single one of these characters what a fucking joke is sets Junko on edge.  Did their creator not program them to understand jokes?  Did the player character not make jokes?  What sort of game doesn’t involve a good ribbing between club members every now and again?

Ugh.

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M because, as has been stated, this is a Danganronpa/Doki Doki Literature Club crossover, and given the content of both, this is inevitable.

AO3

previous chapter | next chapter

“I was told there would be cupcakes.”  Junko crosses her arms as Sayori leads her into an empty room.  “And a club.  You’re not just making all this shit up to get more alone time with me, right?  Because you don’t have to make up an entire club just to—”

“I’m not!”  Sayori waves her hands between them and backs up, an awkward grin on her face.  “I didn’t make anything up!  I—”

Junko clocks out of whatever Sayori says next.  It was a joke.  She knows Sayori isn’t making the whole club up, not after that conversation with Monika two days ago.  Or one day ago, if the repetition of Sayori’s lines says anything about the day when she met Monika.  It might as well have been erased from everyone else’s memories.  The game must lock Junko into a single day loop until she finally joins the club – or at least tells Sayori that she will, apparently.

How unfortunate for Monika.  An entire conversation.  Gone.

(Yeah, right.  Something tells her Monika remembers everything that happens.  Even if no one else does.  Equally unfortunate.)

Regardless, the fact that Sayo-chan doesn’t realize that her bestest friend forever is joking maybe says something about the quality of their relationship.

Or about the relationship the game expects them to have had before it began.

Either way, ick.

So instead of focusing on the continued rambling of her game-assigned bestie, Junko lets her gaze scan the room around them.  It looks just like the classroom she’d been in before.  Someone must have decided to just reuse art assets instead of making each area look different.  Lazy.  There’s not really much detail to the room; sure, the player is supposed to be paying attention to the characters and not the general atmosphere, but why not put in fun easter eggs or potential cheat codes?  Some people live for that sort of thing.

How boring.

As she scans the room, the door to the classroom slams open, and a girl with short actually bubblegum pink hair and eyes the same color as her hair parades in.  (It surprises Junko that she’d though Sayori’s hair was the right color, when this girl’s is – like maybe she hadn’t seen the right shade of pink in so long that she’d forgotten.  But how could she forget the color her hair was supposed to be?  (Easily enough.  Bitch, thy name is Chiaki.))  The girl carries a tray covered with an opaque plastic top and carefully sets it on the teacher’s desk as Monika follows her through the door.

“Natsuki!” Sayori squeals out.  “Don’t slam the door open—”

“I kicked it.  My hands were full!  What was I supposed to—”

“I could have opened it for you,” Monika interrupts, the only one of them to actually complete her sentence.  “When you kick the door open like that, you could break something.”

The new girl – Natsuki – rolls her eyes. “But I didn’t.  So it’s fine.”  Then her gaze lands on Junko.  “You’re the new girl?”  She smiles, and a fang peeks out of one corner.  “At least you’re not a boy.”

Sayori holds her hands up in front of her and bounces a few times as she says, “Did you think Ryo-chan was a—”

“Junko.”

“—boy?”

“Well, duh.” Natsuki crosses her arms.  “Ryo­-chan.  Sounds like a dude to me.”

“It’s Junko,” Junko repeats again, her teeth gritting together.

Natsuki turns to her.  “What is?”

Junko’s eyes grow dark.  “My name.  It’s Junko.  Enoshima Junko.  NOT Ryo-chan.  So quit fucking calling me that.”  She turns to Sayori and glares at her.  “Got. it?”

Sayori quivers under her heavy gaze.  “Sorry, Jun-chan!  I just….  I forgot!”  She taps her head with her hand and offers up an awkward smile.  “I…I don’t remember when you changed it—”

“I have never been….”  Junko takes a deep breath.  “That.  I’ve only ever been me.”  She pinches the bridge of her nose again.  “You would think,” she mutters under her breath, “that my bestest friend ever would know that.  But no.  No.  You have to call me—”

A hand lands on Junko’s shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.  She glances up to see—

Nothing.  There’s no one there.  Just the feeling of someone trying to be comforting but continuing to do absolutely nothing to fix the situation.

Chiaki, you fucking bitch, you did this on purpose.  I know you did this on purpose.

“Jun-chan,” Sayori murmurs.  “I’m sorry.  I won’t forget again.”  She tries to offer her another, just as awkward smile.  “Okay?”

“Whatever.”  Junko sighs.  She moves away from Sayori, who keeps trying to meet her eyes, and leans up against the wall just next to one of the windows.  Then she crosses her arms and tilts her head back as she focuses on the new girl.  “You’re Natsuki?”

Natsuki nods.  “Tsumiki Natsuki.”  Her eyes narrow.  “Don’t call me cute.”

Junko raises an eyebrow.  “Or what?”

“Or I call you Ryo-chan.”

The very idea sends rankles up Junko’s back, but she can’t fault it.  Game recognizes – well, not game, because none of these characters are going to be on her level, but she can at least recognize equal pettiness.  “Fair.”  She shrugs.  “You’re not all that cute anyway.”

Natsuki stares at her, as though trying to decide if Junko’s being serious or just joking.

The imminent frustration of having to teach every single one of these characters what a fucking joke is sets Junko on edge.  Did their creator not program them to understand jokes?  Did the player character not make jokes?  What sort of game doesn’t involve a good ribbing between club members every now and again?

Ugh.

It’s fine.  She’ll learn the in-jokes and whatever humor their creator seems to run on – everyone has some sense of humor, even if it’s incredibly dry, even if someone else might consider it humorless – and in a game that focuses on character interaction and club dynamics, there has to be one somewhere.  She just has to find it.

Or, you know, make them adjust to hers.  Whichever bends the game to her will more easily.  (You’d think that would be adjusting the characters’ sense of humor to her own, but often playing within the bounds of the game will be much more effective than demanding it cater to her.)

“Well, Enoshima-san.”  Monika moves over to her with an outstretched hand, endlessly formal.  “I know we’ve already met, but I’m Ikusaba Monika.”

If Junko didn’t internally flinch when Natsuki introduced herself as Tsumiki, then she does now.  Her eyes narrow.  “You’re kidding me.”

Monika’s brow furrows.  “Is there something wrong?”

“No.  Nothing.”  Junko lies through her teeth, knows that it’s easy to tell that she is, and grits her teeth before her eyes flick not so subtly upward.  Then, she relaxes, grins.  “Moni-kun.”

Monika’s eyes widen.  “Wait—”

But Sayori interrupts, clapping her hands together so loud that it might as well be a thunderclap in the silence surrounding them.  “Moni-kun!  That’s amazing!”  She turns to Natsuki.  “Don’t you think that’s cool?”

“I could have thought of that.”

But as Natsuki pouts, Junko’s lips curve into a much more smug expression.  She slaps her hand into Monika’s and squeezes tight, then leans in and whispers, “Mono-kun.”

The change in the nickname doesn’t seem to shake Monika as much as the first version did.  Of course.  There’s nothing about Monokuma or Ultimate Despair in this game; she doesn’t have to go through its entire code to know that.  Even if there was, Chiaki would have scrubbed it clean before putting Junko in here.  But it’s still fun to force it into the space.  It might just be for her own personal benefit – a reminder of something that shouldn’t exist – but it’s there all the same.

(Or she could drop it entirely.  Give herself that little booster shot of despair every time she has to remember.  Chiaki might not be right about the game being made for her, or whatever, but the constant drip of despair might be.)

Then, while Monika squeezes Junko’s hand just as tight (but still isn’t nearly as painful because Monika doesn’t know how to use her shorn nails), the door to the clubroom opens again, a fourth girl walks in, and whatever petty fascination Junko has with Monika disappears.  She can’t see much through Monika, who stands directly in front of her, but she knows that height, and she knows that hair.

Mikan?

As Junko drops her hand, Monika turns.  “Yuri!  You’re running a bit late today.”

“O-oh, no.”  The girl with deep purple hair moves into better view as she carries a tray of tea over to the teacher’s desk and sets it just next to the tray Natsuki set there.  “I was here early, b-but you said….  Sayori said we would have a…a new member today, so I just thought….”  She blushes a bright, bright red and gestures to the tea before hiding behind one of her long strands of hair.

Not Mikan.

Seeing her now – her hair not disheveled and uneven, the darker saturation of its color (and that of her eyes as well) – Junko is surprised she ever mistook her for the woman she—

“Enoshima Junko,” she says by way of introduction, pushing herself past Monika with her hand outstretched.  “Moni-kun called you Yuri?”

“Y-yes.”  Yuri blushes an even brighter red.  “Matsuda Yuri.”  She takes Junko’s hand, then glances up and meets her eyes.  “It’s a…a pleasure to meet you, Enoshima-san.”

Ah.

Junko smiles – soft – and says, “You don’t need to be so formal.  Call me Junko.”

Yuri’s blush remains as she averts her eyes.  Her hand is soft, gentle, and warm from carrying the tea.  For a moment, just a moment, Junko is sure that Yuri rubs her thumb along the back of her hand.

That moment is lost when Natsuki slams the top of the table behind them, and Yuri jumps away, dropping Junko’s hand as she does.  “Great,” Natsuki says.  “You’ve met everyone.”  She grins, that canine poking out over her lips.  “I made cupcakes.”

Behind them, Sayori squees.  She comes to the front, accidentally separating Junko and Yuri even more as she does.  “Cupcakes!”  She turns to Junko with a huge grin.  “Natsuki makes the best cupcakes, Jun-chan!  You’re going to love them!”

“I won’t be eating—”

“You should eat one,” Monika murmurs, sidling up on her other side.  “To be polite.”

Natsuki glares at both of them.  “Don’t eat it to be polite!  If you don’t want one, don’t eat it!  But you’re missing out!”  She crosses her arms and grins.  “I’m a master chef, and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Once in a lifetime when you make cupcakes for every special occasion,” Mikan Yuri mutters under her breath.

Immediately, Natsuki’s glare moves to her.  “What did you say?”

“N-n-nothing.”

“Good.”  Natsuki takes the opaque plastic top from her tray with a bright smile.  “Look!”

But Junko isn’t looking at the cupcakes.  (They’re cute, and they look like kittens.  Natsuki’s a good cupcake artist, sure, but that doesn’t mean the cupcakes will taste good.  It doesn’t matter.  She’s not eating one.)  Instead, she’s focused on Yuri, who moves to one side of the table to start pouring the tea.  She walks over to join her.  “How do you take yours?”

“A little cream, no sugar.”  Yuri doesn’t glance up.  “Sugar can enhance the natural flavor, but I find it makes the tea far too sweet for me, especially when paired with Natsuki’s cupcakes.  Having something a little bitter makes the whole so much better, don’t you think?”  Then she flinches.  “S-s-sorry.  I don’t know what came over me—”

“It’s fine,” Junko murmurs, smiling as Yuri blushes again.  “I like mine the same way.  All that sugar makes my teeth ache.”

Yuri nods to the cupcakes.  “They are very good, though.  Natsuki…she puts a lot of thought into them.”  But her eyes darken as they drop.  “They’re very…cute.”

“I heard that!”

~

The rest of the meeting goes…easily.  Not poor, not well, just easy.  Like the introductory phase of a—

“Did you put me in a fucking dating sim?” Junko rails at her empty bedroom when she returns.  It’s the spot of silence in a day that feels as though it’s been full of people, and she’s tired – so tired.  She hates this.  They aren’t even real people, and they’re wearing the names of people she loves, even if they don’t know it.  The worst part is that their names don’t even match!  Monika is nothing like Mukuro, Natsuki is nothing like Mikan, and Yuri is nothing like—

Junko’s eyes narrow.

“How much scraping did you do to pull all of that out, huh?”

Chiaki sighs behind her.  “I didn’t modify the game, Jun-chan.”

At her words, Junko whirls to her, eyes narrowing.  “It’s not fair that of the two of us, you’re the one who can appear and disappear at will.  You said you put us both here, and you aren’t even playing.”  She leans forward.  “You and Sayori would be such good friends.”

“We would be, I think,” Chiaki admits with a nod, “but the girls all like whoever joins the club.  It’s a function of the game.”

“Yeah.  Because it’s a dating sim.”  Junko glares at Chiaki, who first leans back against and then finally sits on Junko’s bed, tucking her feet underneath her.  “You think getting boned down is going to fix me?  Me?”  She laughs.  “Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.  You’d know that if you paid attention to any of those memories you mined from me.”

“I didn’t mine any of your—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Chiaki shrugs.  “I won’t if you don’t.”  She glances around the room.  “I didn’t do anything to you that I wasn’t programmed to do, other than putting you in a different game, and even that is programming.  This one suits you better than the island and gathering hope fragments; that’s all.”  Then she pats the bed next to her.  “Do you want to talk, or just to yell at me?”

“Yell.  Glare.  Call bad names.  Give you shit for—”  Junko yawns and covers her mouth with one hand.  “Nope.  That’s all getting pretty boring.”  She sighs.  “Even being petty loses it’s charm after a while.  I could think of a hundred thousand ways to kill you, but the moment the execution happens, I’ve already thought it out, and it loses its appeal.  The shock value’s there for a viewer, sure, but I don’t need the real thing.”

“Sure, you do.”  Chiaki meets her eyes levelly.  “If you don’t really kill me, how do you feel any despair from my death?”  She pushes herself from the bed and brushes her skirt.  “Are you enjoying the game, at least?”

“No.”

Chiaki smiles.  “You are, I think.  Or you wouldn’t be so mad about it.”  She glances up.  “I need to go.”

Junko rolls her eyes.  “Of course, you do.  Can’t stay and have a good chat with your friend, Jun-chan, who you’ve locked into—”  As she continues, Chiaki disappears again, fading completely from view.  To be honest, she isn’t surprised, and if she’s even more honest with herself, she’s glad she’s gone.  She flops back onto her bed and stares up at the Rocky Horror Picture Show poster tacked to her ceiling.  “Oh, Frank-N-Furter,” she sighs.  “We’re really in it now.”

Except she knows that this, being just the beginning, isn’t in it at all.

This is coming in during the Time Warp sequence.  This isn’t even the arrival of Frank-N-Furter himself.  This is all lead up.

Everything after this is the real game.

(She hates it here.)

POLL HERE

[nucipheram]

Lovely supporter ,🌹

Thank you for your continuous support for the Palestinian cause until freedom is achieved🇵🇸 🕊♥️.

I hope you can help me spread my message to the whole world by reblogging my story🥹🙏🏻♥️.

It's vetted campaign 😁.

Best regards and love💚.

Dr. Mohammed Al-Deeb from Gaza-palestine.

My heart goes out to you, I hope this can help in some way