#(which is a fountain & pool scene but it was too dark and covered by the layer of Tay & Sean kissing XD)

[skinks]

The Toziers convince Sonia to let them take Eddie to disney world on his 14th birthday. Needless to say he LOVES every second of it and that’s when Richie realizes that he’s lowkey in love with him

ok anon stop reading my MIND I was actually thinking weeks ago about this literal very same thing. Well, a variant, but yours is adorable too omg. Also I think a lot about them going as adults post-movie and Eddie spends the whole day just going on the Hulk rollercoaster at Universal over and over

but god imagine Eddie having a huge bowl of Disney World ice cream plonked in front of him at the Rainforest Cafe with birthday sparklers, and they’re like “Eat up son, you’re not 14 every day!” and Eddie tries to blow out the sparklers and not cry simultaneously. Eddie at a theme park is actually so personal. He tries ONE rollercoaster (Thunder Mountain) and immediately becomes an adrenaline junkie, and Richie’s sitting next to him hearing him shriek and swear and their hands are clasped together overhead as they hurtle down a plunging loop, and he’s like oh no.

My thing was that I have this image of a 90s family photo of Maggie and Went squishing long haired teen metalhead Richie between them maybe at Magic Kingdom or in front of the big ball at Epcot, and he’s taller than both of them with a gruesome unintelligible black tshirt on but he’s got the biggest goofy smile, and he’s wearing Mickey ears cause it’s his BIRTHDAY. But 14 is probably better cause maybe like, Went and Maggie saw how upset Richie and his friends all were the year before and want to cheer him up?

Then I thought, his parents say he can bring another friend with him if he likes, and Bev’s already gone to Portland right? Mike and Bill are working, Ben and Stan are both at different nerdy summer camps (I know Richie’s birthday is in March but let’s pretend they take him as a joint bday/end of school year treat) and so he brings Eddie. Richie kinda wanted to bring Eddie the most in the first place, so it works out perfectly. Eddie’s only allowed to go because he’s still riding his gazebos wave of defiance and also they promise Sonia Eddie won’t go on a single dangerous ride (wink), and she’d hate to be seen to be ungrateful, people would talk.

Richie and Eddie get their own room in the motel and trampoline between the two beds because they’re little monsters. They always run out onto the balcony at night to watch the thunderstorms. The first time they walk through the gates at Magic Kingdom Eddie’s like :00000 Richie look! EVERYONE’S wearing fanny-packs!!!! and Richie’s like yeah >:( but you were a cute dork first, and Eddie’s like hey fuck you—wait...... cute? and Richie’s like uhhhh HEY LOOK IS THAT PLUTO

They freak the fuck OUT at the Star Wars bit in MGM, back when it was still called MGM. Maggie and Went let them see The Muppets 3D three times in a row and Richie gets a Kermit shirt, and whenever Eddie starts pestering him about sunblock Richie sings It Ain’t Easy Being Green to drown him out.

The see the Indiana Jones stunt show at MGM and Richie decides he’s gonna be a stuntman. Then they go to the driving stunt thing and Eddie says it would be super cool to be stunt driver, and Richie’s like we can be a stunt team!!!! together!!! And Went grins, “Like Siegfried and Roy,” and Maggie elbows him.

Eddie overcomes one of his many anxieties and pets some lizards at Animal Kingdom. They fill their hats with water from the spouting fountains at Epcot and then put them straight on their heads, dumping water over themselves to cool off. It’s actually closer to Maggie’s real birthday than anyone else’s so they have dinner at Epcot Mexico for Richie, Mags AND Eddie and the mariachi band comes over. Richie and Wentworth start singing a totally inaccurate Spanish Happy Birthday and Eddie almost sinks under the table in embarrassment. People are staring, and he’s so used to people staring in public when his own mom causes a scene, but this is a fun scene, Maggie’s rolling her eyes and clapping along so maybe it’s not so bad.

They make up games to play in the long lines for rides, Maggie and Went joining in on Eye Spy, or Richie’s “Guess Which State That Gross Family Are From” game, but don’t join in with Richie and Eddie’s complicated patty-cake-thumb-war hybrid. Eddie always has a ton of water in his backpack and a lil hand-held fan in his fanny pack, and sometimes in the hotter lines he feels very bold and squishes his and Richie’s faces cheek to cheek so they can share the fan, but it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference cause Richie’s face almost feels warmer when he does.

At Typhoon Lagoon they wrestle all the way around Lazy River (and get chastised by the lifeguards) and have major water cannon wars. Eddie watches all the fit young lifeguard dudes up in their chairs like 😳😳😳 that looks like a... cool job. Helping people. Hm.

They split a thing of churros. They get right up to the top of the tallest slide and Eddie gets scared, but Richie just clambers all the way back down the stair tower with him, mouthing off at the bigger kids giving them grief, and Eddie’s like “you should have just gone without me” and Richie’s like nah, be it’d no fun without you, and Eddie thinks about this entire vacation and for a wild moment he thinks my whole life would be no fun without you.

They return to see Maggie lying face down on her deck chair and towel, reading her book with her sunny yellow bikini top untied and Went is Very Attentively Applying Sunscreen to her bare back lmao. Richie’s like UGH GROSS and Went jumps a little like, “oh fu—uh, hey boys, you’re back quick.”

The concrete is so hot they have to run quick from pool to pool to stop their soles burning. Richie can’t wear his glasses in the water so he clings to Eddie the whole time, both of them slippery and giggling and Eddie feels like he’s getting a full body sunburn every time their wet bodies bump together, even though he’s wearing like six coats of factor 50.

Oh and you know they go to Universal. Oh BOY do they go to Universal. Eddie screams on the Jaws ride when the animatronic lunges right against where he’s sitting, and he jumps back in his seat and like, Richie must’ve been way closer than he thought because he falls all over his lap and Richie’s like “Hooper ya idiot, starboard! Ain’tcha watching it!” in his Quint From Jaws Voice, which is actually one of his better Voices since Quint sounds like every other curmudgeonly Maine old-timer back in Derry, but this time he’s pretty shaky about it for some reason.

They go to the new Horror Make-Up Show and Richie waves his arm so hard he gets picked as the volunteer, and winds up making the crowd laugh even more than the hosts, they’re all mock-outraged like “Who’s your agent! You’re here from Mouse Town to make us look bad, right?!”

Then when the Wolfman bursts out, Eddie can see there’s a moment where Richie’s whole body flinches bloodless, his arms come up to cover his face, and his head jerks to stare out for a moment into the crowd looking like he did when he saw his face on a missing poster, and Eddie overcomes his terror of being Perceived by the crowd to yell “GET HIM RICH” and everyone laughs, Richie grins, and it’s fine again.

On their last night they go back to Magic Kingdom to see the fireworks, and they’re exhausted. Sun-dazed and sugar-filled and adrenaline-drained and the fireworks make everything kinda dreamy. They’re shuffling along behind Maggie and Went to get a good spot when they see Maggie take Went’s hand. Richie pulls a face at Eddie and Eddie scrunches a face back and they snicker, and Richie makes a mock “oooh~ Eddie~” noise and grabs Eddie’s hand—they both keep laughing and watching the fireworks, but like... then it stops being funny and starts being something else. Richie’s just holding his hand, and the crowd is so thick and dark under ballooning Florida clouds and the fantasy sky, so anonymous that nobody notices but them. Eddie’s heart might be shooting into the sky and exploding into sparks as well, he’s ready to collapse and he can’t possibly LOOK at Richie but for a moment he’s like shit, they’re right. Happiest place on Earth.

#reddie #tozier family #long post #once more this got away from me but i fucking love disney world ok lmao #listen every time i come back from Orlando im like ok! im done! dont need to go again! #and then by a year or so later im like WHO WANTS TO COME ROLLERCOASTING WITH ME......... #anyway idk if any of this is chronologically accurate to the parks in 1990 but that IS the year the horror make up show started #ficlet

[yandere-society]

Candy Man

Synopsis: Stepping into the world-famous Hope World Candy Factory the day of Valentine’s Day, you are filled with an overwhelming number of sweets and surprises. As a confectionary lover, this is your dream, to not only see the inside of the glittering multi-colored building, but maybe get a glimpse of the interesting man behind all the delicious desserts. There’s also something here, lingering behind every jelly bean wall or chocolate cove. After getting separated from a tour group, you think maybe this was a mistake to come in here so carefree. There may be something sinister behind these seemingly harmless candies.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 4,300+

Admin: @mintedmango​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: Yandere-themes, mentions of death/murder, mentions of gore, blood, passing out/fainting, knives, improvised weapons, being tied down/restrained, hospital beds, unhealthy thinking relationships, cannibalism.

The skin of your lips was being peeled off by your teeth as you nervously flit from foot to foot on your elevator ride up the see-through jelly tube. You could see almost every chocolate cove and red vine tree from the pink tubing your tour group was being brought down to. Your heart was pumping rapidly with a mix of excited and full of tension, and your empty stomach was rumbling as butterflies fluttered, trapped inside. You weren’t sure anymore if not eating this morning to make room for all the sweets that one could possibly enjoy was a good idea. 

You were so anxious you could hardly stand it. Ever since you learned that the infamous Hope World Candy Factory was opening up one day to the public for the first time, you decided you just had to fly across the country and see it for yourself. You’ve loved the company and all the creations that they make ever since you had your first Daydream Bar at the tender age of five. 

All you had to do was buy a ticket for the factory (that costs a pretty, pretty penny, mind you) and you were set for the whole day!

The only catch though was that it was only open on Valentine’s Day and it was strictly for couples to come and enjoy a romantic, sweet-filled day in the candy factory...

And of course, you were as single as single could be. 

That’s just how life goes, right? 

The elevator lurches to a halt suddenly and you almost stop breathing, your excitement overwhelming you. 

“Everyone, step lightly, we have much to see!” Says a stout woman with green hair and carrot-colored skin as she ushers everyone out of the tube and into a dim room with a tiny, tiny door at the end of the hallway. “Now,” she whispers, as she grabs what looks to be different colored (and probably flavored you assume) gelatin keys and sticks a goldenrod one through the small keyhole. “Beyond this door is where you get to roam the marvelous Grand Garden.” 

You gulp, mind full of wonder and awe as you watch her turn the key, and it glitters and sparkles with the bright light beyond the door, much like your eyes right now. 

From the moment of purchasing your own golden ticket, you have been scouring the internet in hopes you would find more info about the Hope World Factory and the mysterious secrets it keeps locked up tight behind its doors. There wasn’t much on the Jung family or the current CEO of the factory. Just rumors of an immense and large edible garden, with so much grandeur and thought put into it, it was something straight out of a fairy tale book. 

“Everything is edible.” She states with a smile before pushing open the door. “But please be advised to stay within the walls of the garden with your partner, or you could end up in some serious… hot chocolate.” 

A few people in your group snicker at her sweet-treated pun, but you can’t focus on anything except seeing what is beyond that bland-colored door, wanting to know if the rumors of splendor are true. Your palms are sweaty and your mind blank with anticipation. 

“Please come back to this door, under the raspberry truffle tree in one hour!” She smiles as she finally pushes the door open for you all to run inside, and see what the Jung family has been hiding for decades. “It’s something out of your purest imagination!”

Speaking of Jung family, you wonder if the rumors are true: the family's youngest son is in charge of the factory now, after his sister got engaged to a rival candy company’s heir. So many whispers and hush-hush with this family, you swear! Deep down you really wanted gossip and drama from them, as selfish as that sounds. You wish they were a little bit messy and spill their internal secrets to the world. So you only really knew what the internet and late-night television hosts would spread amongst the airways, which were usually ridiculous words of slander and vile garbage. 

But what you do know about the famous sweet CEO was that he has an amazing taste in everything from cars, to clothes, especially to candy and you’ve heard that he has an amazing, dazzling smile. Supposedly, and according to the rumors circulating everywhere. 

“Where’s your date, young lady?” The woman with white eyebrows asks up to you with a serious smile on her orange lips, breaking your inner thoughts. Her eyes rake your features up and down, like a human scanner, and you can’t help but gulp. You hoped all your hard work was not in vain. 

“Uh-He’s in...the bathroom.” You lie with a wry smile, hoping she’ll buy it with just enough time to get you into the room she’s so close to unlocking. 

She purses her lips and looks away from you, but doesn’t ask you anything further on the manner. 

“Have fun in the garden!” She says instead of throwing you out and opens the plain door to the grandest thing you think you’ve ever seen. 

Couples scream and laugh as they whiz past you on your journey to roam freely around the edible valley. You can’t be bothered though, as your mouth is going to collect dust if you leave it unhinges for too long. 

There are no words. You couldn’t fathom half the things in this room. Is this even a factory anymore, or are you in heaven? 

It’s… simply breathtaking. 

The online forms were right - there is a giant edible garden - but the words and descriptions on screen didn’t do the real thing any justice. And, of course, they confiscated your phones even before you entered the building so you couldn’t document this creation out of a book come to life scene unfolding before your eyes. 

You are stunned as you walk on the hardened peanut butter cup path towards the giant garden in the middle of four, high walls. Your eyes sparkle, filling with tears of joy upon seeing the beautiful, wonderful sights before your eyes, covering your mouth as the couples in your tour guide pass by your idle body. It is seriously extremely super overwhelming: your senses are going on overdrive as your sockets roam over every inch of the garden that you can see. You just need a moment to take everything in. 

There is so much - so many details and little things going on. 

Trees made of marbled dark and milk chocolate stand tall, protruding into the blue-raspberry colored sky, pastel cotton candy clouds wisping around above you. Most of the whimsical looking plants bear fruit of all kinds and gummy leaves hanging low off their perfectly carved branches. You hear a trickle of something, like a stream of water, and see that there is a tiny clear yet caffeinated creek of soda-pop softly crackling its way through the garden. Following your eyes, you see there’s realistic grey rock-candy gravel and well, rocks, underfoot as well as strings of grass you can only assume are sour green-apple flavored, or even possibly key-lime pie? You can’t be certain but you can’t wait to try it! There’s a fountain spewing caramel in the middle of the garden, surrounded by a pool of white chocolate, and it's held together by what looks to be a brick, but upon a further glance, you suspect that it’s potentially licorice or Twizzlers, or a combination of both. There’s tables, chairs, and benches made out of finely crafted shortbread cookies placed along the peanut butter paths of the edible wonderland. There are colorful flowers made of lollipops and sugared, blown glass softly billowing in the artificial breeze, seemingly waving at you as you gawk on in shock.  

It’s all too beautiful. Your mind is having trouble processing everything until you hear an excited scream about life-sized gummy bear bushes and you can’t help, but want to investigate further. 

Your feet finally start to move as you are openly sniffling and crying: you are such a happy mess. 

A stout figure smiles at your back, a menacing aura surrounding her as she presses a single digit on her smartwatch to the man behind this beautiful room and factory. 

“Fritz?” He questions, nearly shrieking through the speaker with excitement. “How are our esteemed guests doing?”

“Oh… Well, I suppose,” her upper lip curves into something dreadfully evil. “But, we have a lost little crumb who decided to bend the rules and attend the party without a date.” 

The young CEO sighs into the receiver, watching everything unfold from his observation deck placed high above the ground, in order to study the humans roaming around his perfect, edible garden. 

He knows. He’s known since she walked in here that she was alone and didn’t have a special someone to share this day of candy hearts and love songs to. 

Which was perfect because well, you see, neither did he. 

He sighs as he tips his silkened purple top hat up to view the mesmerized crowd down below, throwing up his dark leather boots on the desk in the observation deck. Deep down, the young man was lonely, hiding his family’s recipes and secrets for the rest of his life due to the enigma that was the candy business. His usually jovial smile turns into a sour frown as he watches her stand shell-shocked by the river of soda pop, staring up into the cotton candy clouds. Or, paradise, as he calls it.

It was as if she was looking at him, knowing there was someone watching her admire and take in all the hard work that he and his staff have given to the largest and most amazing room in the factory. He leans into the window, removing his boots from the desk to watch her with her mouth agape take in the splendor and majesty that was his garden. His eyes widen as he studies her expression. She hasn’t even eaten or enjoyed anything in the room yet… Why is that he wonders? Was she a spy for another company? No, it was more like she was in complete disbelief that this was even real. Almost like she was marveling at his handy work...

Suddenly, the young man clad in his expensive purple suit has a wicked thought. Oh yes! If she is a fan of confections of any kind she will be a great asset to the company and myself! A dream only someone of his caliber who’s spent so much of his time up in the clouds could fathom. Or she’ll do nicely for some company if I end up breaking her in the process then! 

“Fritz,” he presses his watch up to his lips that curve into a devious smile. “Bring her up.” His amber eyes turn dark and cloudy as he thinks of his lair, a lab where he designs desserts and candies of all kinds. “I think we found our new taste tester.”

Oh wow! This is really unlike anything you could even dare of dreaming! You don’t think anything can ever compare to the concoctions and creations that the Hope World Factory has let the outside world enjoy for a mere afternoon. It didn’t seem right to you to try anything. If you ate and ruined all the time it took someone to place here so craftily and carefully. No. You didn’t think you could. 

Unlike some...

A playful screech comes from your left and you duck just in time to see a flash of white pass right by your nose. 

You watch with mirth as a couple runs by you, throwing marshmallow fluff off the cherry flavored giant mushrooms placed delicately around the garden. They scream and fly past you, making a mess of the precise and wonderful dessert and bakery items it probably took a whole team of people to create. You frown with judgmental eyes, studying the pair of grown adults act like they were children. 

Though you suppose, candy does revert you back to your childhood, where everything was much more innocent and easy to deal with. 

It was amazing what a room of sweets could do to a group of people. 

They race around, running this way and that, laughing and having the time of their lives with giant smiles plastered on their faces. They disappear from view and you stand watching the space from where they left, under a chocolate tree with gummy bananas hanging off of them. 

Shooting through your body, a zinging pain shoots through your heart feeling like the zap of a thousand volts of electricity that trickles down to your toes and lights its way back up your spine again. 

You freeze watching the pair disappear behind a licorice willow tree. With a tired gulp and a teary blink in your eye, you have to face reality. Truth hurts, as some would say: you are incredibly lonely. 

“Miss,” just then, the shrill voice of the stout lady behind you echoes from where you are standing and you nearly jump right out of your skin you are frightened by the sneaky tour guide. You all but tense up, breathing hitching as your sockets expand, fearing for the worst. “Miss, a word?” Your nerves were on fire as the soda stream pops and fizzles next to you, filling your ears with the carbonated crackling, as well as all the blood that rushes to your ears. Adrenaline running through your veins, like hot-white lightening sparking up and down from head to toe.  

Shit! You think turning to face the orange lady with a sheepish smile. I’ve been caught! 

“Y-Yes?” You mumble as she smiles on at you turning to face her fully. 

“Who can take a sunrise?” She starts to sing an eerie tune and your stomach pits. “Sprinkle it with dew?” Your eyes are the size of the moon as you watch her bring a bag out of her pocket as she continues to smile that weird, twisted smile at you. “Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two?” Your heart is pounding out of its chest staring at this round orange woman who reaches into her silkened purple bag, pulling up a handful of what looks like sparkling glitter. “The candy man can.” Her mouth continues to stretch across her face, as she makes invisible worms and spiders crawl along your skin that’s turned to ice. She lifts her hand and blows the dusty glitter into your eyes, as you try to recoil from the crazy action the tour guide throws your way.  

Literally. 

“Hey!” You yell, opening your eyes to find the world covered in glistening lights, the garden shiny and bright for some strange reason. “What the heck?!” 

“Because he mixes it with love,” she ignores you and continues chanting her odd song to you. Your eyelids feel heavy, your body suddenly sluggish, “and chocolate,” you can barely stand on your own two feet as you feel yourself slumping forward and backward. You feel like you are stuck in a murky pit of blackness, and will never be able to escape from the throes of this evil she’s thrown at you. Unable to form a coherent thought, sleep seeps into your mind as you start to succumb to the feeling. Darkness creeps around your vision as you start to fall. Two pairs of hands keep your body up as you hear the orange lady say a few final words. “And makes the world taste good.” 

-

When you come to your senses, you have a sneaking suspicion that you aren’t in the garden anymore.  Your eyes are clouded with that weird dust that the weird-ass tour guide blew in your face. There’s more shining, glittering lights floating above you and you realize all the spotlights are all pointed at you. You try to blink the dust away but every move you make makes your body ache for some reason. Why were you in pain? Did you fall? No, you could have sworn there were two people holding you up, carrying you, while you heard… singing, the whole time…

So weird.

Oh crap, speaking of that green-haired tour guide… You gasp a little, foggy brain finally waking up fully, and you nearly grasp. You finally understand. You were caught! You broke the rules though and you deserve to be reprimanded and rightfully so. But, the question still stands. 

With a groan and a small shift of your head, you try to grab your throbbing head, but it was sadly in vain. 

You blink rapidly. No. This had to be a bad dream right? You are not strapped to a metal object, right? No. Your hands around bound and placed above you? No. You try to kick your legs, only to find your ankles confined into shackles connect to the cool metal item. Loud noises of your struggle erupt from your body, echoing throughout the small, sterile room. Metal clanging around itself was the worst thing you think you’ve ever heard.

There’s… no way… right? 

Your eyes expand, practically falling out of your head as your empty stomach flips over on itself. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, throat running dry. You let out a blood-curdling scream upon realizing that you are tied to a flat, stainless steel table in the middle of a brightly lit, sterile-looking room. You hear the faint melody that evil woman was humming in the distance and you want to throw up you feel physically sick. 

This was something out of a terrible bad trip, a nightmare, a horror movie. Is this a scene from a sci-fi film? Your eyes are shaking in their sockets, unable to focus on anything. 

Sure, you broke the rules. Sure, you should be punished for it or be fined a sum of money. But, wasn’t this a little extreme? What were they going to do? Torture you?  Was the policy for breaking the rules to probe you? With a hard swallow, you honestly hope that’s a solid no. 

“Hi there, little crumb.” Comes the awful, nails on a chalkboard, screeching sound of the stout tour guide flutters in somewhere above you. No! You plead to no one in your head. No please don’t kill me! I haven’t even eaten anything from the garden yet!

Your heart is beating, drumming, pounding at the shackles of your sternum to bust free from your chest. Her sweaty, orange meaty fingers come out of nowhere to twist your face toward her. A twisted smirk forms on her scaly lips, her white eyebrows rising to her wide forehead to reveal her pinked gums and dilated eyes beaming, honing in on you. Her yellow, laser-like eyes lock together with yours, which enlarge in fear. 

“You think you are special, huh?” She laughs, throwing her head back and maniacally cackling. “You think just because the young master has chosen you of all people to be his new taste-tester you think you are something else?” 

“We are going to have so much fun,” she lifts a pumpkin carving knife up to your neck, “together.” She hisses, leaning in, and you nearly taste the bile, the vomit rising in your esophagus while you can’t form a single clear thought as you watch her press the shiny blade to your throat further. Your breathing hitches as she sneers, leaning in closer to practically spit on you. “I’ve loved him for years, since he had dreams to build the garden and you think that YOU,” you wince when you feel the stinging slice of the blade a trickle of blood runs down from your skin and onto the blade. “YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST TAKE HIM FROM ME?”

You are going to die. You are going to die. You are going to be murdered in cold blood by this woman who knows nothing about you. She’s going to kill you and probably play jump-rope in your intestines. 

“Hello, little lady.” A cheerful voice filters in from behind the orange lady, snapping you out of your swirling, disintegrating thoughts of your impending peril and doom. “And goodbye Fritz.” 

Before the round woman could even think to turn around, your vision, that was once white and sterile, is painted in bright sticky red. 

Blood to be exact. 

It drips from the giant blue lollipop-shaped into a knife protruding from the orange chest of the orange tour guide. Red particles splatter upon your body, painting you in the warm, maroon color of her life force that someone is robbing from her. Her eyes roll back into her skull, removing the carving knife from your throat as she spits a lump of clotted blood out of her dry, cracked lips. 

Your lips part in shock, eyes continuing to stay as wide as dinner plates as you watch the lady before you crumple in on herself and slump to the ground in a heap of orange, red, and green. 

A man in silkened purple suit, with a shit-eating grin curving his lips and whose white gloves were speckled and smeared pink from the blood of his staff, was clapping enthusiastically. The sound fills the once sterile room, the noise jarring and ear-splitting as you recoil slightly every time his covered palm connects to the other. 

Why is he clapping? He beams as he steps over her dead, lifeless body as yours tenses up. And who the fuck is he?

You remember where you are and why you were here in the first place and you nearly jump out of your skin. 

He’s… oh my God...

The young CEO of the Hope World Factory: Jung Hoseok. 

He is handsome, there’s no doubt about that. His chestnut-colored hair is barely visible due to the matching violet top hat that covers his head. Amber eyes that sparkle with mischief under the bright spotlight of the medical looking room. You can’t help but drink him in as he starts to loom over you. His slender nose sculpts into a soft-looking smirk, that's curved into a tender smile, shines gently down around you laid out on the cold metal bed. His grin really is magnetic because you are completely captivated by this man who looms lower and lower over you, until you can smell the sweet aroma wafting in around him. 

Enthralled, enchanted, mesmerized… This man has a spell over you and you can't look away. 

But you have to ask, “Are you going to kill me?” 

He blinks at you in disbelief, smile falling only for a moment before he starts scream-laughing. 

“What?” He chuckles as he clutches his sides, cackling himself into stitches. “Oh, no no no, little crumb!” His nostrils flare, honey-colored eyes dilating. “You know who I am, yes? You’ve put two and two together?” 

You nod, with a weak ‘yes’ leaving your mouth. 

“Then you know I’m the infamous candy man, Jung Hoseok.” He sneers, slamming his stained bloody gloves on either side of you on the metal table. “I’m solely going to play with you, little crumb.”

A gasp leaves your lips as you register his words in your head.

You struggle in the shackles, trying to retreat away from the man sneering down at you with mirth. He cocks his head to the side, the bright light being blocked from the man practically climbing on top of you. “Do you know what my main ingredient is here at the Hope World Factory?” His voice drops an octave and his playful eyes cloud over with something dark. 

You swivel your head back and forth in a no.

Hoseok slams his hand down next to your head, nabbing your attention in full force. “Speak when spoken to, pet.”

“N-No.” You whisper, a tear leaves one of your eyes, sliding out of your socket, dripping onto the cold table. 

“Very good.” He caresses your face with the back of his pinkened-color glove. With a menacing and misplaced smirk, Hoseok dips down to your neck where the tour guide shallowly cut you. You whimper with trembling lips, closing your eyes moving your face away from him, which only reveals the pulse point of your neck to him more. “Oh, very good.” You hear him inhale before the warm flat of his tongue laps the trickle of blood that streams out from your flesh. 

Did he just… drink your blood?

Hoseok stands then, lips swollen and colored with your blood, grinning like a wild, maniac above you. “Oh, you’ll do just nicely.”

“F-for-r wh-what?” You shake, tied to the table you are straining, desperate to get out of. 

He raises his hands above you, eyes dark with no sparkle left in them. “I drained my last taste tester, broke her, some would say. But, oh you,” he cups your face leaning in to grin at you with his pearly whites coated in your blood, “you just need to lay here and look pretty while your blood is our secret ingredient for all things sweet in the Hope World Factory.” He shrieks, laughing like an insane person as he cups your face in his sticky palms. “Isn’t that great?” 

Your heart breaks as you silently beg for a quick and easy death like the lady on the ground. This was not what you had in mind for your Valentine's Day, as well as the rest of your life.

“You can’t keep me here.” You whisper, but it sounds like you are begging him more at this point than anything. 

He ignores you and starts humming that dreadfully eerie song from earlier as he leans back over to trap your wounds in between his lips again. “The candy man can.” He hums into your skin, his tongue swirling all over your poor neck. “Because he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good.” 

———

#candy man #yandere society #yandere #my bloody valentine #tw: yandere #tw: cannibalism #tw: gore #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: obsession #tw: mentions of death #tw: restraints #tw: knives

[norabrice1701]

An Offer Received - Part VI

A Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston Character (Thomas Conrad) fanfic

Pairing: Thomas Conrad x Fem!reader

Summary: Life underwater reveals the grand plan and...victory?

Rating: Sexual content NSFW smut (more sensual than explicit, but still please be ye warned), controlling behavior, f-bombs, discussion of violence happening out-of-scene, Conrad being Conrad 

Previously: Part V - 5 Days 

A/N: And we come to the end! Hopefully the loose economics isn’t too off-putting and semi-plausible (at least for this version of a modern world ha). Thank you to everyone who’s read and enjoyed! 

GIF credit to the original poster via the Tumblr search! 

Part VI - 5 Empires 

As best you could figure, there were three compartment rooms exclusive for your and Conrad’s use. The first was the combined living room and your office. The second was a smaller room, connected to your office, that served as Conrad’s office – his nerve center, as you came to think of it. The third room was a single bedroom with a bed just big enough for two; built-in wardrobe and drawers lining the walls; and a small, functional bathroom. Or head, as the onboard sailors called it.

Beyond those three compartments, your movements were fairly limited and presided over by the seemingly indifferent crew that moved around you. “Miss Fox”, they all called you, inclining their heads politely when you passed or encountered them in the wardroom. Fortunately, no one waited on you hand and foot. You had free reign in the wardroom for food, coffee, and snacks. Hell, you suspected you might gain weight on this voyage with no chance to run or get any real exercise. At least the clothes that had been provided for you were surprisingly practical – suits with both trousers and skirts, tasteful blouses, silken cami and shorts sleepwear – all perfectly in your size.

Between working and surfing channels on the TV, you kept busy enough. It was still surprising that wireless internet or satellite or whatever it was worked so seamlessly underwater for all digital connections during your voyage.

Now that you were trapped with him underwater, living day-to-day, sharing a bed every night...it was disturbingly domestic and not. He still hadn’t told you much that was practical about anything, other than how to operate the shower controls. 

You’d thought that, surely, now that you were here with him and no means of escape - maybe you would finally be privileged to know the grand plan. But you didn’t even know where the submarine was heading. You didn’t have your passport, but somehow you didn’t think that would be a problem whenever you arrived. But if this was his big move - or if he was making big moves - then would you at least be privileged to know if he won? Or if he lost? 

That thought sat funny with you. If he lost. Of course, it was possible and, in fact, quite probable. Supervillains bent on world domination never won in the movies or comic books. But did you really consider Conrad a supervillain?

Hard to say.

He didn’t act much differently. He’d always walked and stood with the authority that he owned the world. With LOKI, he certainly had, and nothing about that had changed now. His cool, controlled demeanor had yet to slip, even though you spent a lot more concentrated time around him. At first, you feared what the single bed in the one bedroom would herald, but until last night, he’d been an unexpectedly, perfect gentleman. And even then, he’d only given you what you all but took from him. 

You hadn’t meant to wake up. But the motion of the bed as he slid beneath the sheets stirred you. His scent enveloped you, always so enticing. Your hand reached out in a sleepy haze, settling to the hard plane of his chest, fingers tangling in the light scatter of hair. The heat of his body permeated the air, a welcome contrast to the chill of the submarine’s filtered air. Your head drifted on the pillow, only wanting to curl closer. 

His minty breath fanned your face as a warm, solid hand covered yours, pressing it flat against his skin. Arousal suffused you, warm and rolling. Your legs twitched against the sheets, brushing his coarse leg hair. His nose skimmed yours as you breathed him in. 

When your lips met his, there was no resistance. No illusion. Half-lucid drowsiness had given way to aching want, and he groaned softly as you rolled atop him. His hand rose to frame your face, angling you deeper into the kiss as his other hand drifted down your spine. You moaned, low and breathy, as tongues tangled and you felt his arousal grow against you. Without realizing it, your hips started to roll in slow, teasing waves. 

In a fluid, tender motion you were on your back with the heat of his body everywhere above you. Those nimble fingers caressed your breast through the silk of your cami as he angled his hips to let you slide down his sleep shorts. Yours went next and you whimpered at the feel of him, hard and heavy, against your core. With no words, no questions, he pushed inside, burying to the hilt before setting a slow, steady pace. 

He brushed that secretive, intense place within you on each stroke, tearing raw moans from your throat. Tears stung your eyes, overwhelmed and overcome, as he continued to move, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back. His forehead rested against yours, noses nuzzling as you each gasped and moaned your shared pleasure. With the deep slide of him inside and the press of him outside, it didn’t take long until your release burst in blinding euphoria. 

And you did the unthinkable. Words slipped from your lips before you could even think. 

“Oh, Tom….” 

You didn’t realize what you’d said until later. Much later. After he’d told you not to wash away the evidence of your shared passion. After you’d fallen asleep, curled into him, despite the tacky moisture pooling between your thighs. After you’d woken to see the sheets stained beyond reuse. After he’d brought enough breakfast and coffee for two as you each dressed for the day. 

And now...now, you braced for his response. For his inevitable retaliation for the liberties you took, either with his given name or his person. He’d never given you permission to call him ��Tom’. 

You blew another sigh, distracted from your work yet again. And all of that was to say nothing of even beginning to analyze what drove you into his arms at the late night hour in the first place. Was this the beginning of some twisted captivity dependency? Where you were just that desperate for human contact that you turned to your captor? 

Not quite. He hadn’t abducted you. You could have pitched a fit, refused to go, and likely wound up in the bottom of the harbor along with your watch. But you didn’t. You were here.

The VI on the bottom of your foot throbbed. 

But the hours continued to progress, and it proved just another day under the water.

Until it wasn’t. Until he lounged on the couch, oddly close to you, oddly relaxed. His tie had disappeared, along with his suit jacket. The top buttons of his dark shirt revealed a tease of skin, and his sleeves were cuffed just above his elbows. He sipped from a highball of scotch as you nursed your wine. The TV droned mindlessly on global news, current events.

“It’s been four days,” you started softly, “are we still planning to arrive tomorrow?”

He took a slow sip of scotch. “Yes.”

“Is that when I’ll learn more?”

He cut you with a wry, sideways look. “Don’t you want to maintain some plausible deniability?”

You bristled. Sure, you’d thought of that, but you didn’t like the insulation on his voice. You weren’t ready for him to make a rash decision on your behalf and cut off your left foot. “At this point…after last night – difficult to deny I’m not a willing participant in your coup or revolution or whatever you’re terming it.”

“It’s neither of those things.” He paused for another mouthful of scotch. “Certainly nothing so dramatic. Dramatic change invites a dramatic response, which does no one any good. Subtlety is key until the moment of revel.”

You couldn’t hold back a soft snort. “Until you…what? Rise out of the water on a fountain of righteousness?”

“Nothing so fantastical. The dominoes will start to fall tomorrow. You’ll see.” 

You took another drink of wine, debating pushing your luck. Why not? “I thought you might be angry, or...displeased after last night.”��

He hummed softly, his eyes darting up and down your torso as he raised a hand to his mouth, teasing his thumb with his front teeth . “Now, why would you think that?” 

“No one calls you ‘Thomas’, let alone ‘Tom’.” You weren’t going to mention that conversation with Amelia. “I just want to know if I should be on my guard for you to corner me against the bulkhead for another of your so-called ‘lessons’.” 

“In the dark of night with you warming my bed so freely, you’ll find little behind closed doors that displeases me. However, should such an incident bleed over into the daylight, that will be a different discussion.” 

You blinked, doubting you heard him right. “That...that’s it?” 

He turned to you with a distantly annoyed expression. “I’ve told you before - you’re not one for trite questions. You have what you have. And soon…,” his lips curled in a wolfish smile, “we’ll have the world.” 

You’re not sure how you slept that night, but you did. You did, and you worked until he interrupted you, switching on the news. 

“Alright, thank you, Adam.” The anchor turned back to face the main camera. “Again, to recap - if you’re just joining us - we’re 14 hours into what’s already being called the most massive market shakeup in history. The trend started in the Japan Exchange Group - the world’s 3rd largest financial market. A trickle of sales and acquisitions that grew to cascading proportions, with far-reaching impacts into the Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Shenzhen Stock Exchanges. Financial analysts are now reporting the moves permeated across these markets now have spread through the Bombay Stock Exchange, and are starting to manifest in Euronext. We have our own analyst, Ted Marshall, joining us now. Hello, Ted.” 

The newscast split screens, and a spectacled man in a frumpy suit joined the anchor. “Hello, yes - as you said - the financial world has never seen movement of this magnitude. And, to be clear, we’re talking about movements of tectonic proportions that have left investors around the globe scratching their heads and frantically trying to keep up.” 

“As we’ve already seen, six of the ten largest markets in the world have already been impacted. What risk do you see for the remaining four markets?” 

“I don’t think it’s a risk at all - I think it’s a predictable reality. Pinhole leaks precede a tsunami wave breaching a seawall. We’ve already seen those pinhole streams flow from one market to the next as trading floors open and then the big wave hits. It’s as if someone has found the thread that unites all of the world’s major markets, and is following that thread across the time zones, pulling to unravel and create something new.” Ted shook his head, as if in disbelief. “The world’s top ten stock markets control almost 80% of the global wealth. If what we’re seeing continues on through the UK and US based markets, then we could be looking at the largest redistribution and consolidation of wealth in history.” 

You stared at the TV, nearly agape. This was unreal...it had to be. It didn’t make sense - how could....? 

A cold chill ran down your spine as you glared over at Conrad. Sure, he was normally a man of confident bearing, but the intense pride that suffused his handsome face was unsettling. Slowly, he turned towards you, the corner of his mouth lifting as he spoke. “Admittedly, it was a hard thread to identify.” He muted the TV volume. “It took me years to execute the right contracts, plan the right mergers. And then more time, still, to recruit foot soldiers. But the sales and acquisitions will continue to waterfall through the western markets - until they seize upon the floors of the Nasdaq and New York Stock Exchange, with LOKI emerging a triumphant victor.” He glanced back at the TV with an almost secretive air. “The reporters have it right - the world’s top ten markets do control nearly 80% of the global wealth, and by the time of the closing bell on Wall Street - 75% of that wealth will be directly under my control.” 

Your eyes widened. “You’re just...you’re stealing the global wealth to fund your takeover?” 

“Did you hear any mention of illegal activity?” He cut back to you with a sharp look. “That’s the beauty of it - all the sales, all of this tectonic movement and consolidation - has been out in the open for everyone and anyone to exploit, given the right resources and strength of will. Surely, I don’t need to remind you that I have both of those fully at my disposal.” 

“But that’s...that’s….” Words escaped you as you turned back to the TV, seeing the headlines and stock market numbers on the screen. It was...dammit, it was smart, it was genius...it was terrifying. You forced a swallow. “So, what then? Once you control 75% of the global wealth, what happens then?” 

“With 75% of the global economy facing bankruptcy, world leaders will have very little choice. But as I’ve said before, it’s a balance act to prove one has enough bases covered. Economic prowess is not enough to bring the nations into alignment, so it must be supplemented.” He glanced down at his watch, swiping through the touchscreen and pushing a side button. 

The TV channel changed to a tactical display - a visual of the world’s continents with major cities marked and identified. Each city had a stock market indicator, tracking the progression of wealth accumulation, and symbols that looked like traffic signals. Most of the cities just had one traffic signal indicator, but some cities like Tokyo and London had two indicators. Washington, D.C. had three indicators. In fact, now that you looked again - all cities had red lights at the top of the indicators, but Tokyo and Beijing’s indicators were yellow. 

You gulped, trying to understand. Both Tokyo and Beijing had a full wealth accumulation tracker, so what did the yellow lights represent? You turned to Conrad, his gaze fixed on you, observing your study of the map. “The yellow lights...does that represent your supplement?” 

The dark grin that curled his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “It represents an inbound warhead. Two targets in Tokyo and one in Beijing - undetectable by radar, too small for anti-missile defense, and enough firepower to reduce the seats of those governments to smoldering ruins.” He waved at the TV. “With a few strategic hits, the old guard will visibly crumble, paving the way for a new world.” 

“That’s monstrous!” You stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief. “Killing all those innocent people!” 

“Innocent is a kind word for those who have brought the world to such a state. A few will perish, yes. Such important buildings are never truly empty, even after hours when the majority of its occupants are off basking in the wealth of their reaping.”

“But you can’t…that - that makes you no better than they are.” 

“There are only so many ways to get their attention, and in this case - it’s best to speak languages they understand.” 

You shook your head, still horrified. “Money and violence.” 

“Precisely.” 

You wanted to keep admonishing him, yelling at him, and even beg him to stop. Each scenario played out with ultimate futility in your mind. This was his submarine, this was his show, and this was his moment. Nothing in his overbearing arrogance would bend to your wishes that he cease and desist. 

So, you watched. You watched the stock market wealth accumulators fill. You watched the traffic signals drop from red to yellow, and ultimately to green. You tried not to think about how many lives each light represented. Occasionally, the TV would revert back to the news - each station overwhelmed with the amount of incoming information, updates on world leaders rushed to safety, financial markets upheaved, buildings exploding into flame in yet another new city. 

It was terrible to watch. Terrible, and yet - like a train crash - impossible to look away. 

After time, after hours - eventually, the last wealth accumulator peaked. The last signal turned green. 

And nothing. Nothing happened. The submarine continued along, just as it always had. Just another day under the water, blissfully oblivious to the destruction raging across the continents above. You’d completely lost track of the hour, feeling a deep bone-weary exhaustion gnaw at you. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d eaten, your stomach a giant knot from all the anxious news activity. 

Still, you watched coverage of the fallout. Unknown numbers of injured, but significantly less than if the buildings had been occupied. And the list of damage was extensive. Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. The Great Hall of the People. The Kremlin. The Grand National Assembly of Turkey. The Government of India Building. The Palace of Westminster. Buckingham Palace. The White House. The United States Capitol. But you already knew - you’d seen the map. 

But then came a breaking announcement. After the twenty-four hours of chaos, everything had fallen still and quiet. No more inbound missiles. No more stock market movement. In fact, the governments of the world were beginning to read the outcome in the settling dust, starting to grasp that the vast wealth of the global economy was no longer theirs to control. 

There were too many questions and not enough answers in the chaos - but there was a note. A single message with a concise purpose that arrived at the United Nations conspicuously after the last missile fell. 

It brought a request. A request for a meeting. A request to talk through the global situation. And the meeting was due to start within minutes. World leaders from all over the globe planned to call in and listen firsthand to the discussion. And, of course, the origin of the note was untraceable and anonymous. 

But you knew who had sent it. 

He stood next to you now, dressed in the finest suit of his collection. The crispest cut, the sharpest fit, and the dark navy color did wonders for the crystal blue of his eyes. He looked like a man of power. Like...like the ruler of the world. 

He caught your gaze with a sideways smirk before he turned for the door to his office. “Mustn’t be late, you know.” 

You exhaled shakily. “So...so, that’s it? It’s over? You...won?” 

He paused at the door, turning back for one last glance, steely determination glinting in his eyes. “What other choice do they have?” 

The door closed behind him, and you held your breath.

The End

#tom hiddleston #villain #the art of villainy #hiddlesedit #good to be bad #world domination #loki #fanfic #an offer received #wannabe writer #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #not rpf

[buginateacup]

So I finally figured out the best way for me to plot Rings is to write it out like I did before ie like you;re telling a rapid story/juicy gossip which stops me from writing the same scene in different angst/fluff/horny versions

so spoilers for the next few chapters under the cut if you’re interested

So the first night of the honeymoon is...fine. They spend most of it laughing over whatever the fuck was today and agree that staying married is really not an option. Megamind has conveniently forgotten that he agreed to be a superhero and Roxanne winds up laughing in Megamind's arms as he proves that he can in fact dance like Fred Astaire on the balcony of their suite. Its a remarkably fun night all things considered until Roxanne goes to push open the door to what she assumes is the other bedroom of the suite and finds the kind of closet that she's been dreaming of all her life and that means...

There is only one bed. Fuck

Cue panic

And Roxanne getting stuck in her dress 

help

But Megamind has also been having just a hint of a breakdown because dancing with Roxanne made him realise that oh no he's in love with his wife and he hasn't wished he was human for a long time (not true) but it does mean that she's probably not going to be okay with tentacles which is the kind of thing you should probably tell a prospective partner BEFORE you marry them so he's going to sleep on the couch far far away from temptation. And Roxanne is an absolute horny mess because she is absolutely hiding her feelings behind her libido but Megamind is being very considerate of not being THAT KIND of villain which means she feels like he doesn't want her and nothing kills desire faster than not being wanted so that’s its own problem.

Except the couch is kind of squeaky because its leather and he can't sleep and eventually Roxanne comes storming out and demands he come to bed so they can both sleep because he's keeping her awake too.

And they do.

Sleep

Just sleep

And wake up tangled together on Friday morning.

That's not awkward at all

That's also the morning they find out they have the suite for the rest of the weekend, which, delightful. Divorce can definitely wait a couple of days while they ruin Wayne's credit rating. There may be a bit of a moment where Megamind catches Roxanne trying on his mantle over her pjs that will either be incredibly angsty or incredibly hot but that that is not part of the plan we're just pretending that didnt happen, or it did and that is how they decide to be married for the weekend (IDK, working on it). In the mean time there are casino heists to plan and chess and scrabble to be played and evening brings Megamind back to bed with Roxanne because its just easier at this point. And when he wakes up because UNFAMILIAR in the middle of the night he plays with Roxanne's hair at her askance for an hour until they both fall asleep.

Roxanne is more than okay with having someone permanently willing to play with her hair on tap as all people should be.  

On Saturday Roxanne is awake first and spends some time thinking about how tired Megamind looks and how he should really take some time off and they can go to the beach or something after they get back. This should probably have been a clue about her feelings but hey, leave a girl her river in egypt.

This may or may not be the day she also glues him to the headboard of the bed with the decoupage setting on the de-gun while she has a shower.

Megamind genuinely considers gnawing off his own arm because she didnt quite manage to close the door properly and that is its own kind of torture.

They have a bet about paper airplanes and landing them in the fountain. Megamind wins so Roxanne has to show him a trick (Roxanne is not thinking about that thing she can do with her throat nope not at all) which is how he finds out his wife is a master at throwing cocktails and they get more than a little tipsy and he shows her how to fire the degun which is adorable and a little hot and they wind up slowdancing on the balcony to the Something for Kate cover of When the War is Over because I love that freaking song and I'm very attached to that mental image right now.

The second night, they know its all over by tomorrow and they spend a while talking in bed in the dark which is where I will probably make all of you cry with how lonely being the last one is for Megamind and it breaks Roxanne's heart a little to and they have the kind of thing that you just do not talk about in the light of day because if what happens in vegas stays in vegas then what happens that night is like the what happens in vegas stays in vegas of what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

Look it makes sense in context okay

They also both stay clothed so chill.

Sunday morning brings them to the foyer and its bittersweet and lovely and they just want to hold one another but they CANT because there is a PLAN and of course they shouldn’t stay married but oh shit the divorce desk doesn’t open until 11 and its only ten and their chauffer is waiting for them to take them home so shit, that is an issue but its fine because there's a form you can fill out and they will post you the divorce papers.

So great. They head to the airport and get on the plane and oh look there's yesterdays paper and why is there a photo of their wedding certificate on the front page?

And when was megamind going to tell Roxanne he was becoming a hero?

And Megamind had genuinely forgotten about that. Oops

So it turns out all of Metro City has been waiting for this day for YEARS. The paper is full of happy articles and letters to the editor saying we knew those crazy kids had it in them and Carlos has won a considerable amount of money in the pool and has taken his family to disney world.

And well they cant stay married obviously (can they?) but everyone is clearly expecting them to come home as a couple so sure they can fake it for a while before quietly separating except Megamind is not okay with the idea of Roxanne getting kidnapped by anyone else because no one else will be careful enough. And Roxanne is very unimpressed that the defenders council are trying to replace her with an official damsel. She is staying damsel thank you very much Gerry.

This may also become the fic where Roxanne finally sets up a damsel's union.

So they have a bit of a talk and yep practice kissing is definitely a thing they need to work on

a lot

that moment where the copilot walks in on them is a little embarrasing

but they land and oh look there's a car waiting for them to take them to

oh

The Scott's are throwing them a party after all

So Roxanne gets dressed by Minion for the second time in a week which is where she finds out that "Oh sir was always so worried that if he ever found someone the tentacles would be a dealbreaker"

Tentacles

Huh

Where?

Prehensile or?

Oh for fucks sake Roxanne you dont even know what they're for stop it

No but seriously where are they?

Megamind on the other hand has just found out that Roxanne has a tattoo from Metro Man of all people and there is a very awkward/sexy/funny moment in a butler's pantry where Megamind finds out exactly where Roxanne's tattoo is and Roxanne has it confirmed exactly what those tentacles are for after all.

Great so add that to the list of things we're thinking about like his shoulders and his hands and his eyes instead of our feelings.

Roxanne takes great solace in her libido as it is far easier than arguing with her head or her heart.

Or she would be if she was getting laid.

And SURPRISE this party is not the intimate dinner they were promised but a full on party with Megamind's prison uncles set up on a webcam in a theatre which is a lovely cute scene and Roxanne is definitely getting baby stories out of these men.

Megamind uses her as a human shield. Its force of habit and has nothing to do with how much he's blushing at all.

And they get asked to make a speech and Megamind tells everyone exactly how much he loves his wife and Roxanne is almost in tears because what the hell where was this when it was just the two of them? He cant mean any of this clearly and wow that fucking hurts.

And then Roxanne's great aunt helen shows up because of course family was invited and she is an unpleasant woman at the best of times and Roxanne goes full "Fuck off Helen he's my husband and I love him"

and 

shit

she does doesnt she?

Nope straight back to denial on that one. Cannot think about that right now

Because he clearly doesn't feel the same way or he'd have told her personally, not to a crowd of people. And Megamind thinks she was exaggerating because he’s also thinking where was this in vegas? And Roxanne is forcibly reminded she can't be the damsel if she's married to the hero so she is never going to see him again unless its for an interview which means she has to spend the rest of her life chasing him down in the van with fucking hal and ow ow ow

So they leave the party and Megamind drops her home only for Roxanne to find her apartment full of boxes as she is also being kicked out of her apartment as she is no longer acting damsel.

So she grabs a bag and tracks down the lair and oh hi husband can I live with you or not?

Hi wife yes please say (stay forever please stay forever) which is where we get the SECOND there was only one bed because half the lair was demolished in the last big battle and there is no space for another room right now and of course they have to keep sharing a room or Minion will get suspicious

this bed is much smaller than the giant orgy sized one in vegas

good thing they’re already getting used to waking up in one another’s arms

Roxanne does manage to ask for a small room to use as an office because she needs somewhere to cry and she's used to living alone but wow does this feel like moving in...

And that brings us to chapter 6ish?

#Rings #Megamind #fic plotting #give me all the feedback #fic by comittee #because there is no garuantee any of this is going to stay this way #but I needed to get it down #so I could keep writing #I will plot the rest out later #and go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight #ahahahahahahaha #bug is writing a thing

[ut-sudden-changes]

Deltarune Chapter 2: My take

I made these awhile ago but never found the right time to post them, and since Toby has already posted stuff on twitter about his plans, I thought I might as well. This is just a fanfic basically, obvious Deltarune Chapter 1 spoilers in bound.

Chapter 2 would start off with Kris waking up and easily getting out of bed, they flash a smile at the still trapped soul which you control and leave through the door. After a few seconds you can oscillate between left and right to eventually topple the wagon over, opening the cage door and letting you escape. You can’t change rooms due to just being a soul, so you move the soul under Asriel’s bed, now in control of your new vessel.

Asriel’s old plush, Snuffles. Obvious everyman reference in design also. As you make your way through the house, there’s a little escape gameplay element where you need to leave without being noticed by Toriel. Snuffles is hard to control, and can occasionally flop over if moved too fast. It’s made obvious that this is not a preferred vessel but currently it’s the only option you’ve got.

Your goal is to take back control.

Managing to leave the house, you shamble your way but collapse in front of the gated entrance to Noelle’s home, some time passes and Noelle finds your plushy bottom fallen on the street. 

She’s wondering who lost their toy, and thinks the kid who lost this must be feeling pretty sad right now. She briefly mentions having to go see Kris and Susie since they want to show her something, and so she doesn’t have the time to find the kid who owns this. She thinks aloud about bringing this to the lost and found at the police station. 

Noelle carries the plush to the police station, Undyne opens the door, Napstablook can be heard telling her that it isn’t office hours but Undyne tells them to sit tight since it’ll be quick. Noelle says she wants to hand over the plush to the police since somebody lost it. Undyne replies something like “Hell yeah! I’ve been wanting to buy a new punching bag!” This throws Noelle off and she reconsiders handing you to the police and instead is walking closer to the school while still holding on to the plush.

As she is walking, a familiar theme can be heard getting louder and louder, until BAM. Noelle loses her balance, falls, and the plush flies out of her hands and into a bush. She is knocked out.

Who is the person who accidently knocked her out? Why it’s the average at best Papyrus!

Papyrus drops Noelle off at the clinic to heal, but accidentally (or maybe not) keeps the plush. The scene jumpcuts to Papyrus in the school in the classroom full of random cards. He puts Snuffles down next to the Seam plush, and starts cleaning the room up, talking aloud how he’s doing a favor for his brother. He talks about how his brother is going to be starting a new job as a teacher here, making a callback to the line “haven’t you heard of a guy with multiple jobs?”.

Kris comes into the room, this is the hangout session they promised to do yesterday. Papyrus introduces himself, and Kris actually talks.

Papyrus talks abit about himself to liven the mood. Kris talks about how it’s a good thing that everything is being moved into a single place, but mentions how they hope nothing gets lost. As Kris looks through the items in the room, they pause when they end up at Snuffles. They ask Papyrus where he got this plush, Papyrus responds saying he picked it up from one of Santa’s henchmen, Kris mentions how “odd” that is-- this is their brother’s favorite stuff animal. It’s a precious family heirloom. One would perish the thought of breaking into the Dreemurr household and stealing this prized possession which holds so much value.

It might end up horribly if that person didn’t consider the consequences of their actions.

Papyrus laughs it off, and thinks that they’ve spent enough time cleaning the room. Sans can do the rest himself! Papyrus asks if Kris would want to go on a picnic with him in the other part of town, Papyrus being the amazing friend candidate he is had a picnic prepared filled with his favorite dish-- pizza.

Kris humbly denies, saying that they have prior plans with a few friends but hopes Papyrus goes anyway just to enjoy themselves and possibly see some more of the town.

Papyrus is disheartened but says it’s fine. The scene jumps to Papyrus having a picnic set in the park, and Papyrus starts talking to Snuffles. Papyrus is talking to the plush as if it were alive, like you would a stuffed teddy bear, and the Player is able to answer prompts to imply emotions. Each time you answer a question, Papyrus drinks some more orange soda, and when he’s gouging around in the picnic basket to try and find some you are given control over the plush again.

You move closer to the water, and there is somebody waiting for you.

Not a single word is spoken. You know what you have to do. You have an appointment you promised yesterday to be at.

The sound of the engine roars to life, and you dash off towards the center of the lake. 

The riverperson speaks: 

“Long ago... 

Two races ruled the earth. 

But you already knew that, right?”

You’ve reached your destination, a decrepit island, overgrown but showing signs of life. There is a giant concrete structure, the only identifier being a sign which says “LAB”. You enter, a display monitor shows a camera feed focused on Snuffles. You move forward and in the center of the room there is a pool, Snuffles is frozen in place. Bubbles appear. More bubbles. And slowly from the murky depths.... 

Rises exactly who you needed to see.

With the help of your new friend, you manage to enter the Dark world.

You control the Everyman as you make your way through the Labyrinth, a Dark World filled with fish life, anime references, dog food, and a floating head who calls itself Your Only Friend. Eventually as you continue to explore, you end up on the opposite end of an encounter with Kris, Noelle, and Susie. Lancer and Ralsei are with them. You fight back but are defeated, torn to shreds, Kris dealing the killing blow. Everything fades to black as the classroom fades into view. 

Susie wonders what the hell happened, they didn’t seal off the fountain of darkness that popped up in the Labyrinth... did they? Noelle then suggests maybe the plush itself was the source of Darkness. Kris says “Good riddance.”

The camera pans upwards into the black part of the room, black fading in to cover anything still visible.

You are back at similar sequence to the start of Chapter 1.

CONNECTION HAS BEEN SEVERED.

A VESSEL IS REQUIRED TO CONTINUE.

CONTINUE?

Y/N

If you select N, this pops up

“AND SO THE WORLD STOPPED SPINNING.”

and the game closes itself.

If you select Y, this pops up

“DON’T YOU HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO?”

Asgore’s flower room fades into view. He’s watering the flowers and taking every care of them. The destroyed Snuffles is seen in the other part of the room. He pulls out a needle and thread.

“Asriel’s going to be here any day now... Seeing Snuffles in this state would leave him with a lot of heartache...”

Asgore goes to the plush and you can see him start to repair it, facing towards the wall.

The golden flower in the center of the room starts to shake.

A red soul appears above, and descends into the flower.

The flower shakes. It convulses violently. 

And you’re exactly where you were meant to be.

[ END CHAPTER 2.]

#Deltarune #Deltarune Chapter 2 #Fanfic #Kris #Papyrus #Noelle #Onionsan #Susie #Riverperson

[falling-pages]

😈 Takashi for "was he/she worth it?"

I ALWAYS WRITE TOO MUCH FOR THESE PROMPTS SO WE’RE GONNA MAKE THIS ONE A TRILOGY AND I HOPE YOU’RE OKAY WITH THAT. IT’S THREE AM AND I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN ABOUT TWO DAYS SO HERE WE GO. PARTS 2 AND 3 WILL BE POSTED SOON IN THE REBLOGS.

UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED HERE

Romeo & Juliet: Mori x reader (part 1/3)

FYI, this is an AU where Mori is not rich or related to Honey. He’s just a normal guy, rather poor, who falls in love with a celebrity’s daughter.Also, I don’t think this first part is very good because it is setting up for parts 2 and 3, which will be good, I promise!

Romeo and Juliet wasn’t just a warning about hasty love or a satiric play about class divisions. It was a story of love conquering all, creating a bond that severs societal expectations and lasts past death. Though often reviled by actors and mocked by shallow-minded literature snobs, you knew it to be a tale of love and sacrifice for the greater good. 

The young lovers were never meant to be happy. They were only pawns that had the unfortunate desire to act out.

You would know, because you’re living it right now. 

When you first laid eyes on Takashi Morinozuka, you knew you were bound to love him. Before you even knew his name, you were drawn to the regal way in which he carried himself, convinced he was of noble birth. But when you looked closer and saw the callouses on his skin and plain clothing, you could tell he wasn’t.

You felt your heart shatter over a future that could never be before it had even begun. 

And yet, you couldn’t help yourself.

It is fitting that you met in a pet shelter. It was the only place you could be yourself, because animals don’t ask for selfies or autographs, and it was the only place that Takashi wasn’t met with fear. Dogs can see everything humans can’t. When others saw a tall, brutish-looking teenage boy with a face of stone and hair of tar, the dogs saw a smiling, humble companion. And you–well, you saw the love of your life.

Takashi didn’t see you at first. He was too busy putting a dog back in its kennel after a walk when suddenly you were half-way to him, drawn in by that brooding air. The dog barked and like a trumpet from Heaven, the boy looked at you.

The look he gave you sent chills down your spine. His gray eyes widened, and he made a choking sound, so distracted that he forgot to latch the cage. Out scuttled the pooch, a wiry gray dog, who immediately pounced on you and tackled you to the floor in a giant licking fit.

“Benaya.”

You gasped at the boy’s deep voice, and then again as the dog, this harbringer, stepped on your windpipe in obedience. Benaya pranced back to his handler, a smile on that bearded face, as the boy ran to you in horror.

“Miss, are you alright?”

You fluttered you eyes open to see him crouched beside you, hand resting by your head. Close-up, you could see the worry etched in every gentle line of his face.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you whisper, rubbing the side of your head. You accept his outstretched hand, and when he pulls you to your feet, you see just how big he really is. You were tall for a girl anyways, but you felt so small, so feminine with him. It was a nice feeling to have his hand completely cover yours. And as you met eyes, you felt yourself fall.

Later, Takashi told you he never believed in fate until that moment.

“Is this your dog?” you asked, letting go of his hand and pointing.

The little rascal was sitting on his bed, paws crossed, with a satisfied glint in his eyes. Self-satisfaction reeked from him.

“No,” the boy whispered. “Not yet. I just volunteer here.” Your eyes wandered to his ID card in a lanyard around his neck. “But once I save up the adoption fee, they said I could have him. They gave me some other supplies for him.”

His voice filled with emotion, a spark you hadn’t yet heard in his deadpan tone. As if he understood, Benaya wagged his tail, giving a little “yip” of approval. It was obvious how much they both loved each other.

As you were about to ask him more, you spotted your sister, Etsuko, searching for you. You groaned at your babysitter.

“I have to leave,” you say, grabbing the boy’s attention.

“Will I see you again?” he blurts out.

You smile at the butterflies lining your stomach. Crazy fans always asked that, and you would be alarmed at such sudden desperation, but something was different with him. “Of course. I’ll be back next Saturday.” The back of your neck burns, as if Etsuko is lasering her disapproval into your skin. “Goodbye…?”

“Call me Takashi.” It suited him, long and strong.

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

He blinked, lightly wetting his lips. “Goodbye, Miss (Y/N).”

On the drive home, the situation rolled over in your mind. He was the first person in a while to not gawk or stammer when they realized who you were. It was refreshing to be treated like a normal person for once.

- - - - - - - - - – - - - - - – - - - - - - - - - - - - – - -

Weekly shelter visits progressed into biweekly walks in the park that turned into tiny daily after-school adventures with the boy with the hard face. As you spent more time with him, usually petting your favorite teacup chihuahua while watching him wrestle with Benaya in the park, you felt yourself drawn into his mysterious aura. 

He was different than all the boys who had tried to court you before. He was rough and often came back from walks dirty with a smile on his face. He rarely spoke, which was nice. It was a break from all the flattery you endured from hopeless rejects trying to get on your parents’ good sides. And though he did admit he was a fan of your parents’ music–they had redefined the category of modern Japanese classicalism, after all–he never spouted about them. He liked you, he enjoyed your company. He wasn’t using you to get ahead. That was a feeling you rarely got from anyone. 

Takashi lacked the charisma and social standing of any boys in your circle, but he possessed a kind heart and a certain innocence that poor people have, free from any ulterior motives. You had never seen such genuine loyalty before. 

The more time you spent with him, the stronger you felt that connection grow. You felt safest around him. His towering build scared off potential attackers, sure, and you felt comforted when his shadow covered you from nosy paparazzi. But feeling safe and protected wasn’t just about warding off potential thieves. It was about placing your heart in his hands and knowing he wouldn’t crush it. After years of being on your guard against people using you for your fame, you could finally show Takashi this hidden room inside your soul, unlocking your emotions just for him. 

He would always respond the same way: listening to you, drinking in your grievances and excitement. Occasionally he would mutter a “ya” to remind you he’s there, but most often he would pull you onto his lap or against his chest so you could feel him shielding you from the outside. 

He was never greedy with your emotions, always waiting until you were ready to discuss them. Your two worlds were so different, but through hard work on both sides, you two met in the middle and created a little world, a perfect Eden, of your own.

Your dates were low-key. You didn’t even know if they were actual dates or not. All you knew is that you wanted to be with him. Every time you were, you felt something in your heart grab onto him.

Your best day together wasn’t a spontaneous date. You suspected he had been planning something for the past couple of weeks, and when you met together at the secret rendezvous spot,  he held a picnic basket and a bright smile.

Gosh, that smile–you could look at it all day, and often, he’d let you. Most of the time you would just sit together in silence, or you’d meet at a cafe and just stare at him over tea as you read together.

But something was different today. Emotion cracked that strict facade on Takashi’s face as soon as you rounded the corner. He smiled, really smiled, and the light reached into his eyes. Since they were gray as steel, most people thought they were unfeeling, cold, and hard as he was. Moments like these, though, when your presence let the light in, when his pupils would expand, the steel would melt into just a slick, ashy pool, warmed into liquid by your presence.

You knew he would never say it. He never could. He barely spoke about anything, much less about love. But you saw it. You felt it in the strength of his fingers when he took your hand. 

These little touches made all the difference. You two had never done much of anything physical together, besides some hugs when you were upset. Just a few hand brushes here, fixing hair there. Like he knew he was big and wanted to protect you from himself.

That changed, however, when he led you uptown to a little clearing in a park you had never seen before. In the middle of it lay a scattering of dark blue roses with a checkered blanket. An angel fountain piped water into the air, casting a rainbow mirage over the scene. On the outskirts of town, barely any pedestrians, with bright grass and a vibrant sun overhead, he had surprised you with the most romantic moment of your life. 

“Takashi,” you whispered, “did you do this for me?”

“Ya.”

Without warning you jumped into his arms and hugged him. He didn’t even flinch or drop the basket, just held you close with one arm. With your cheek against his neck, you felt his skin heating with a blush. His cologne swept into your nose, odd because he usually never wore cologne, as his natural manly scent was enough to draw you in. But maybe he wanted to make a good impression today. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said, pulling away from him.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

Takashi set you on the ground before taking your hand, pulling you into your own personal garden. You don’t know how this he got this space reserved or privatized. He was intimidating enough, but then he left to come get you. 

You both sat down on the blanket, careful not to crush the scattered roses. As Takashi unpacked the picnic, you dug your fingernail into the threads of the blanket. It was exceptionally well-made, soft as a cloud but thick enough to be a cushion from the grass.

He pulled out two crabs, a pot of mashed potatoes, and a container of garden salad. Your mouth watered as the smell hit your nose, but he looked at you sheepishly.

“I could only get two crabs,” he admitted as he passed you the bigger one. “I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t what you’re used to.”

You broke one of the legs and immediately dove into the fleshy tissue. “All I need is you here with me,” you reassure him.

The corner of his mouth tips upwards, and you both eat in silence. 

The crab is succulent, the butter coating the back of your teeth as you swallow. This, the blue roses, possibly a reservation fee for the spot…how much money did he spend on you? You knew he did not have that much to begin with, and that he was saving up for Benaya. How did he afford all of this?

You can’t help but look at him. Towering over everyone, his back in perfect, kendo-inspired posture, muscles rippling and peeking out of his button-up shirt. He had the disposition of a king with the humble swagger and good looks of a god.

And his skin–it was darker than everyone else’s. Odd for a Japanese man, and you wondered if it were his genes or just the amount of time he spent outdoors under the sun. But it looked nice. It suited his dark hair and kept him from looking sickly.

Unabashed, you kept staring at him. Shy as he was, only stealing glances at you every so often, you weren’t afraid of being caught. You had been shut in so much growing up, taught to be a silent figurehead for your parents. You needed to be noticed by him.

After the meal, Takashi packed everything up while you fell on your back, content to take a nap. Your eyes searched the clouds lazily; you checked out mentally, grateful for a full stomach and the sun on your face.

There’s some rustling, and you feel your upper half slightly lifted. Opening your eyes fully, you see Takashi lie down beside you, stiffly stretching his arm under your head. He never looked at you, only kept his gaze glued to the sky.

If your ambitious parents taught you anything, it was to go after what you want.

You shifted your body closer to his, curling up to put your head on his shoulder. Immediately you felt him gasp. Were you too direct? It’s only been two months since you’ve met, after all, though it felt like you’ve known each other forever. Were you misreading him?

But then the arm under you slides over to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, and he smiles again. You’ve never seen him smile so much in one day.

Snuggled up together, watching the sky in peaceful silence, you didn’t think this day could get much better. But then Takashi grew restless. 

He sat up half-way, still cradling you under his arm, and gave you your first kiss in a bed of blue roses. 

Finally. 

You sighed against his mouth, pulling his body into yours. You couldn’t even feel the sun or the grass anymore. All you could feel were Takashi’s fingers lightly graze your wrist, and then his full, warm lips pressed so firmly into yours. He arched over you, but you felt safe.

It was the best day of your life.

You had no idea that it would turn into a nightmare when you returned home.

That concludes part 1! Parts 2 and 3 will be posted in the reblogs very soon! Enjoy the fluff because the next parts are just full of pain and angst

#ohshc #mori x reader #takashi x reader #takashi morinozuka #mori angst #mori fanfic #mori imagine #mori scenario #mori headcanon #ouran high school host club

[whenimaunicorn]

You're going to the mall. Option A) You spot Bobo fishing coins from the decorative fountain. First you contemplate just walking away, but decide instead on pushing him in. Wet IS a good look on him. Option B) He secretly follows you around. You think you've seen glimpses of his telltale mohawk or coat a few times, but shake it off as (wishful) paranoia. Until you're half-naked in the changing room and Bobo sticks his head in. 😁

It was such a DELIGHT to fill this prompt, you have no idea, thanks so much for the ideas whoever you are! I also folded another anonymous prompt into this story:

You know what I can see? Meeting Bobo in the perfume isle of a cosmetic store, harassing the poor sales lady by trying each available scent and being his usual weird self. 😂

So without further ado, here it is, rated T with warnings for stalker-ish behavior: Bobo x female Reader, a series of escapades at the local mall

The first time you saw Bobo inside the shopping mall, youdid a double take – no, a triple take – to confirm what you were seeing was really there. It looked like a scene out of a museum diorama, or a prehistoric re-creation film: this big, hulking figure decked out in fur, bent over a pool of water with his arm immersed to the elbow. Only it wasn’t some shallow stream, it was the mall courtyard fountain, and he wasn’t fishing, he was scooping up the change people had thrown in to make wishes.

You wanted to laugh. You wanted to turn on your heels and run away from this dangerous revenant; you wanted to shout at him to get out of such a normal place, and crawl back to his creepy trailer park or one of the other disreputable locations where you were used to seeing him. They bring kids here, for Chrissakes.

You didn’t do any of those things. Instead, you strode very deliberately toward him, and gave his lower back a shove hard enough to topple him face-first into the decorative pool.

As he flailed and splashed, you stared at your hands. Did you really just do that? Of all the men that you probably shouldn’t be provoking… When Bobo came up sputtering, you curled them into fists and pushed them deliberately down by your sides. Never show doubt in the face of something that could hurt you. He stood to his full height and ran his hands over his head, clearing it of water. His mohawk and fur both stuck up at odd angles, stiff and chunky with wetness. The sheen of moisture looked good on his face, though, as did the cling of his undershirt to the planes of his chest.

His eyes landed on you, certain after just a quick flick to the right and the left that there could be no other culprit.

Before he could say anything, you took a deep breath, and… stuck your tongue out at him.

Then you sprinted away.

 Ever since then, what could only be described as a rivalry had sprung up between you two. The next weekend, you were sitting on a park bench, just starting to enjoy an ice cream cone, when it was snatched right outof your hand. You hadn’t seen Bobo coming up on the pavement behind you, and before you could even get any words out of your mouth he had shoved the whole top of your ice cream right between his lips. Backing away, maintaining eye contact, he took great big licks around all the edges for good measure. Then he just kept on walking.

“Did Bobo Del Rey just… steal your ice cream?” Wynonna asked, one hand shading her eyes against the sun as she watched the monster’s retreating back.

“Apparently.”

“Are we going after him?”

You gave a little shudder. “I don’t want it back. It’s got his cooties on it now.”

Today, you’re making your way through a department store where you entered the mall, hustling past the perfume counters to meet Waverly down at the food court. But a familiar, growling rasp of a voice catches your ears. “I’m looking for something… fruity, but not too sweet.”

Your head swivels to the right, and you see Bobo Del Rey, upper body draped over a glass case as he harasses a saleslady in the cologne department. His sleeve is pushed up to the elbow, and as you watch, he directs her to dab a sample directly onto his skin.

He raises his arm and takes a truly dramatic huff. His eyes roll up to the ceiling as he ponders. “Too much fruit,” he declares. “Do you have something less pineapple, more kiwi?”

You put your head down and try to make your way to the exit without him spotting you. You pass by through another aisle, but you can still hear him. “I want something dark, and bright. A scent with a rugged sophistication, you know?”

You suppress a snort. Does he realize he’s using entirely contradictory words? That poor saleswoman.

Bobo’s voice raises. “Y/N,” he calls out to your back, “just the person I need.” Shit. “Come over here and help me decide on these.”

Is this really your life right now? Cologne shopping with Bobo Del Rey. But the truth is, you’re too amused to walk away.

The counter beside Bobo’s outstretched arm is lined with sample bottles. Evidently he’s been here a while. The clerk’s sales smile is cracking around the edges as she looks up at you; she’s clearly hoping you’ll just take this guy away from her. She deposits a dab of something from a dark green bottle on his upturned wrist. “Why don’t we try this one.”

Bobo sniffs it while watching your approach. “Mysterious, yet familiar,” he declares. “I like it.” He splashes the green bottle against the right side of his neck. Then he selects another flask, of an ochre-gold shade, and sprays that one on the left. “Y/N,” he says, extending one hand to beckon you nearer. “Tell me which one you like better.”

You approach warily, trying to see where the trick is, what kind of prank Bobo is about to pull on you. You start to pick up the green bottle, but Bobo stops you with a long-fingered hand covering your own.

“You can’t truly tell, like that. It has to be on the skin.” He pulls the collar of his coat back a little, baring more of his neck to you.

You hesitate; Bobo arches a brow. You imagine he looks disappointed in your lack of bravery. That thought is enough to propel you entirely into his personal space. Your hands land on either lapel of his coat, palms tingling at the texture of the thick fur.

You get so close that your nose accidentally brushes the side of his neck. You’re sure you’re imagining it, but the air this near to his skin feels electrified. Your nerve endings sizzle as you realize you are close enough to hear him breathe. His hands are hovering somewhere near the sides of your body and you wonder if he’s going to touch you.

Inhale. That’s all you need to do.

The first scent leads with citrus and the breezy chemical smell of artificial perfumes. Underneath that is something musky that must be all Bobo. It makes the back of your neck prickle.

Refraining from showing any reaction, you shift your head quickly to the other side, refusing any sort of eye contact until this trial is over with. The other side is cloying, based in heavier oils, and only enhances that masculine smell of him that you caught on the other side. While you wouldn’t necessarily call Bobo’s body odor pleasant, you have an almost irresistible urge to smell him again anyway; deeper, closer.

“So,” Bobo crows at you, voice low and intimate, “which one tickles your fancy?”

Your smart mouth is quick to hide your true feelings. “When was the last time you bathed?” you ask, recoiling from him while you crinkle your nose in feigned disgust. Interesting things happen when your brain goes on autopilot, and you’re realizing that they usually involve poking the beast. “No cologne in the world could fix your smell.”

Bobo… pouts. There’s really no other word for the sullen disappointment that spreads across his features. “You’re no fun.”

You step backwards, keeping your spine straight as you retreat from him without turning away. “I don’t know why you thought I would be.”

Bobo only tips his head to the side. “I think a lot of things about you.”

Now there’s a concept you really don’t want to have to deal with. After an apologetic glance at the saleswoman you’re abandoning, you hightail it out of there to go find Waverly.

You’re not sure Bobo Del Rey is following you around the mall… but you’re pretty sure he’s following you around the mall. That distinctive mohawk, the flash of furry shoulders, they don’t blend in well, and you catch sight of them a little bit too often.

He swoops in while you’re waiting for Waverly to come out of a fitting room. He steps in close and nods his head down at the paper coffee cup clasped in your hand. “What have you got in there, Pumpkin Spice Latte?” His voice is wry. He thinks he’s making fun of you.

You raise one eyebrow, looking the wild revenant up and down. “Do you even know about pumpkin spice?”

He huffs. “I know only ‘basic bitches’ drink it, and I bet you’re just that unoriginal.”

You roll your eyes and take a sip. It is in fact a pumpkin spice latte, and it is delicious. “So what’s happening here, are you following me now?”

Bobo takes a step back, so he’s standing beside you, surveying the rest of the store with casually-crossed arms. “Just hanging out.” He leans in, obviously reading the store name off the sign on the nearest rack. “I love Forever 21.”

And while you’re thinking of your best comeback, he plucks your coffee from your hand and steals a sip. “Damn,” he sputters as he pulls the cup away from his lips, “that is good!”

“Keep it then,” you growl, and spin on your heel. “Waverly! You almost done yet?”

 After that you seem to lose your little tail. There’s no sight of Bobo for so long that after Waverly has to leave, you decide it’s fine to stay here by yourself a little longer, and hit up just one more store without her.

You realize your miscalculation once you’re in the fitting room of that boutique.

“I’m her boyfriend,” you hear a low, raspy voice say to an attendant outside the dressing area. You know that you now have exactly three seconds to get decent; there’s only one possible thing Bobo is about to do. You pull the dress you’ve been considering down over your head violently, straightening it as best you can, knowing you don’t have time to wrestle with the zipper.

The curtain behind you slides open with a scrape of metallic rings. No security at all in the changing rooms of this trendy shop. Bobo leers in at you with a tilt of his head. “Hello there, darlin’.”

“Seriously?”

Bobo nods to you, like he thinks this is very serious. His eyes flit to the mirror, and he looks your body up and down.

“You should get that dress. Flatters your shoulders.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, shocked he would even notice something like that. The dress does look pretty good. Dramatic. But you’re distracted from your own image by the reflection of Bobo Del Rey behind you, gazing from above your shoulder, his imposing presence filling up the entire background. The look in his eyes isn’t creepy, not in an uncomfortable way. ‘Smoldering’ might be the word for it. Appreciating. You imagine for just a second that he really is your boyfriend, and he really does like you in that dress.

He looks over his shoulder at someone. “Pardon me,” he says, and steps out of another customer’s way by pushing all of the way into your tiny changing booth. He slides the curtain shut behind him.

“What are you doing,” you ask.

“Being polite,” he replies. “Not a lot of room out there.”

“Not a lot of room in here!”

“Oh, we can manage.” His eyes roam across the tight, flimsy walls.

Somehow your face starts burning, even though you’ve barely processed what those words could be implying.

He looks down at the dress you’re wearing, having to pull his head back to get a good look now that you’re standing so close together. “So, are you getting it?”

You run your hand along your waist, pushing the fabric into place. “I haven’t zipped it yet, so I don’t know if it fits.”

“Allow me.” His fingers brush against the small of your back, finding the edge of the closure. You turn around to give him better access. Why are you going with this? Must not be wanting to make a scene throwing him out, that’s all.

You feel Bobo gather the edges of the dress together along your back, then draw the zipper up, slowly and carefully. His knuckle brushes your skin the whole way up, and you suppress a shiver. There’s no resistance. The dress fits.

Bobo takes a half step back, far enough to admire you, far enough for you to see yourself clearly in the mirror. The shape it gives you is phenomenal.

“Wear it tonight,” Bobo says, softly.

You whip your head to meet his eyes. “Tonight?”

He nods his head, and his hands find yours. He brings the back of one to his lips in a very old-fashioned kiss. “Dinner. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you try to stay firm. “Why would I go out with you?”

“Come on, Y/N, you’ve been flirting with me for weeks.”  Is that what you’d been doing? “Following me around the mall…”

That’s not right. “You’re the one that’s been stalking me!”

Bobo makes a skeptical face, cocking his head to one side.

“You literally barged in on me in the dressing room. What do you call that?”

“Helping. I’ve noticed you have a very hard time deciding what to buy.” He looks down at your chest, showcased just exactly no more and no less than you prefer. “That. You should definitely buy that.”

You shift awkwardly. “But I haven’t even tried any of the other ones.”

Bobo’s eyes light up. He spreads his hands in a “go ahead” gesture.

You roll your eyes. “No. Out.”

He lets you push him back through the privacy curtain. You ignore how warm his chest is under your hand.

“Oh,” he says, ducking his head back in, “which one did you like for tonight?” His hand disappears under his coat, then come back out with two bottles of cologne  that he clearly stole from the tester tray.

**Thanks for reading!! If you liked this madness, try Spa Day With Bobo

Bobo Masterlist

Taglist: @allsharingonebreath, @demoncrypt1066, @writingfromasgard, @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen, @peachieowl @savismith@ceridwenofwales @equalstrashflavoredtrash @ivarinleatherpants

#bobo del rey #bobo del rey imagine #bobo x reader #bobo/you #wynonna earp #bobo crack

[helshades]

Ooooohohihihehehühühoho! Not your Anon, but inspired by it. What perfumes do the Marvel-Asgardians wear?

What a fantastic question!

Usually, when one pens a couple lines on scent in fanfiction, it’s about Loki and he smells, if memory serves, like leather and pine trees or... was it ozone? I can’t remember, but I do remember one good story in which Asgardian magic produced a smell, of cinnamon, which I found a really interesting idea—films are a visual medium and smell has never been a component, apart from the odd comment on a character smelling foully after an unfortunate encounter with a sewer, say. Good smells? Nobody ever comments on good smells!

Starting with the basics, if I had to devise a scent for Thor or Loki, or in truth the entire Asgardian army, I know I would choose: leather and sweat. What? They’re all covered head to toe with thick layers of what must have been several herds of especially unlucky cattle, and unless Asgardian clothes are designed to annihilate body odour, which I wouldn’t put past them of course, I surmise Thor will smell a bit at the end of the day. They also never change, which poses problems to me, so I really hope they’ve got special anti-funk fabrics.

Note that Asgard has this warrior cult going on, so I wouldn’t be surprised if some measure of male musk were considered as deliciously virile. We were blessed with a wonderfully gratuitous scene in the beginning of The Dark World in which Thor, some time after getting back home in the wake of his last battle to repel invaders from the Nine Realms and securing their peace, washes his torso, the rest of him being clothed, using his bare hands and a stone basin, before drying himself off with a simple cloth: we have no way of knowing whether this is a normal washing habit, something ritual to freshen up before going out, as his friends are celebrating the end of the battle in the city. Interestingly, there was a similar basin in Loki’s cell, and since I hardly believe he was meant to shit in a corner crapper, something tells me the basin isn’t his only way to wash.

The palace seems to feature many reflection pools in the corridors, but I think the pool in Frigga’s chambers is her personal bath, with its steps and cups filled with what I suppose are flower petals, but I could be mistaken. On one corner, there appears to be a basin with a pitcher in it and a cloth, evidently a ewer and a sink. All that hygiene paraphernalia, in passing, is installed right in front of an open window. Of course, the royals chambers must be at the very top of the palace and I doubt anyone would send a drone up there to spy on the Queen when she’s having a soak, but it may be worth noting.

We have a right to presume that all that water may be scented, too. If men don’t do it, I have a strong suspicion that Asgardian women may enjoy natural floral fragrances, maybe herbs, to perfume the body, hair, and the clothes. So many people wear fur and leather, too: it happens to be very easy to perfume both, and as a matter of fact, until the French Revolution it used to be a prestigious job for glove makers. It also bears noting that the Queen’s court is probably a little less warmongering than her husband’s; while he trains with his soldiers, something Frigga suggests is commonplace, she appears to dwell in a more learned area: women’s perfumes may be more soothing than men’s, provided that they do wear different fragrances.

Asgardians love to party, too, to celebrate the return of glorious heroes and their ‘dashing exploits’, as Fandral once put it, so it is entirely possible that they would keep the stronger scents for special events. Either way, I think it safe to assume that on average Asgardians would favour natural smells extracted from flowers and herbs, since the luxury aspects of their lifestyle are contrasting so vividly with their highly-advanced technological prowesses: as director Alain Taylor commented, they go on horseback like we use fountain pens, for the charm of it. Asgardians live so long while things last so little, and evidently they cherish a calm, contemplative way of life filled with simple beauty to balance their warmongering appetites.

Aliens don’t seem to be welcome on Asgard, so I’d wager that exotic goods are rare and expensive: we could also have a few courtesans going around wearing foreign substances. I would find it hilarious if a couple products made in Midgard found their way to the citadel, you know?

#answers #thatiswhy #thor #Exploring MCU!Asgard #people of asgard #the dark world #thor: ragnarök

[meltingflowers]

Top 9 Unexpected Indian Wedding Decoration Ideas

Weddings are all about decoration, food and two people uniting together. Following are some of the floral decorations that you have not seen in every other wedding.

Garland Draped Ceiling

If you want to have a romantic outdoor tent that is stifled by the tent's exposed support beams, do not worry. You can cover them up. Choose a luscious and full looking garland. You can consider greenery like maidenhair fern, ivy or boxwood. Add even more intrigue by hanging Amaranthus flower spray, clear glass terrariums and bundles of beautiful bare branches. This also looks amazing as a Cocktail Party Decorations.

Floral Fountain

Another elegant and classy flower decoration that people love is the floral fountain. Lush hydrangea and cascading greenery are the best flowers to imitate a romantic overflowing fountain, but with much more whimsy. You can also take this decoration to a whole new level of romance by adding some lily pads and floating candles in the pool.

Flower Backdrop

Set a beautiful venue with the floor to ceiling arrangement of colour coordinate and greenery blooms which sets the scene for some pretty amazing ceremony photos. Today people love the unique urban contestants between the exposed industrial looking walls, crystal chandeliers and garden chic blooms. This is one of the best Indian wedding decoration idea.

Topiary Instillations

A petal lined aisle is one of the best things. The topiary lined aisle with beautiful tress looks like they are straight from the Wonderland is different and looks elegant. If you are going for the neutral or all-white colour scheme which means that you can always play around with the colours of your florals. Do not be scared to match and mix. The wedding stage decoration will attract all your guests.

Hanging Pomanders

Different colours and sizes of commanders dress up the bare tree from the outdoor ceremony. Just be careful to use some extra support when you hang then, you do not want to fall in the middle of the ceremony.

The handing pomanders also look amazing as a reception stage decoration. This is unique and looks classy and elegant. It stands out among the ordinary stage decorations that you see in every other wedding.

Air Plants

If you want bouquets that people have never seen before, this one is the best thing to choose. King protea is the main attraction. Here this is supplemented by an impressive air plant and a full cluster of seeded eucalyptus.

The Woodland Runner

If you are planning to have an outdoor wedding, you can choose to have this decoration. One can choose to have a striking woodland eques tabletop. Decorated with dark jewel-toned flowers and blooms in the footed urns. This completes the overall look and also adds unique fillers like the fiddlehead ferns. Some couple also uses this to style and decorate the stage where they exchange vows to live together for eternity. This has become one of the most favourite wedding stage decoration Bangalore.

Lampshade Centrepieces

Have a twist to the succulent centrepieces and ask your florist to top off a tall col vase with a lampshade along with moss. If you do not want to leave flowers behind in the centrepieces, you can always fill the vase with your favourite blooms and also scatter some small bud vases with a single stem of tulips, rose or any other flower. This will give a floral touch that would not look too eclectic.

This is perfect for a Garden Wedding Bangalore.

Floral Chandeliers

Putting some upside-down stems can surely transform the light fixtures into some striking chandeliers. Most of the flower-adorned chandeliers are well-equipped with wreaths for some extra structure but this also looks simply elegant.

Therefore choose the style that you love among these and decorate your venue.

#CocktailPartyDecorations #IndianWeddingDecorationIdeas #WeddingStageDecoration #ReceptionStageDecoration #WeddingStageDecorationBangalore

[travelcenter-uk]

A Thrilling City Break in Europe

There’s one question that we need to ask ourselves, have we missed travelling? Why of course we have, so why not take a trip around Europe, and be mesmerized by its pure beauty, several cultures, epic history, incredible artistic and culinary variety. Travel Center offers a city break in Europe that would not be forgotten.    

We offer various kinds of itineraries that would be perfect for short breaks in Europe. And there are also various types of travellers with different requirements and every destination has something special and unique to provide.    

This itinerary is for a city break where you can enjoy some local delicacies, stay at hotels or explore the cities various landmarks.

A City Break in Europe, Cologne

Cologne is a stunning, pedestrian-friendly metropolis on the Rhine River with a skyline consisting of the famous Cologne Cathedral as its unique feature.

You can explore several arts and entertainment facilities, historical gems, as well as nearly 100 galleries and around three dozen museums.

Cologne is famous for its 12 exceptional Romanesque churches – particularly the splendid Cologne Cathedral – all a simple walk from the historic Old Town, the Cologne Karneval which is held in February, and also Its university which is one of the oldest and biggest in Europe.

Here’s a tip about transportation on your city break in Europe, Cologne;

If you want to explore, you can rent a bicycle for about 12 euros a day, or get a bus which is the easiest as they will be able to take you anywhere you want to go, mainly where the trains and trams don’t travel to.

Amsterdam

Visit the world-popular 17th century capital of Holland, you can cycle to undiscovered places, explore windmills, countryside, and beaches, immerse yourself in the culture at Westergas, cruise past canal houses and bridges, look for unusual finds at Europe’s largest flea market and uncover Amsterdam’s independent shopping streets.

Amsterdam is famous for plenty of things: the stunning ancient buildings, spectacular museums, enjoyable atmosphere, cycling lifestyle, boat trips on the canals, the Rijksmuseum, Dam Square, Anne Frank House, and the red light district.

Here’s a tip you should keep in mind on your Europe city break in Amsterdam;

One of the initial things that you would notice about Amsterdam is its bicycle ruled roads. The city is packed with them and the citizens enjoy travelling on them. It’s one of the most bicycle-friendly metropolises in the world, and the ideal way to take in Amsterdam’s grandeur is by getting on to a bicycle and travelling the city. But, much to the irritation of the residents, most tourists don’t see the bike lanes and walk on them. Kindly keep in mind that the bicycle lanes in Amsterdam are generally red. A bike doesn’t travel like a car, and it is not easy to stop it suddenly within seconds. Please be careful of bike lanes and stay off them to keep away from getting hurt. Also try and get the I Amsterdam City Card, which is a convenient visitor pass that gets you complimentary access to Amsterdam’s several famous appeals.

Paris

Paris’s alluring attractions are renowned and for great reason. Welcoming sidewalk cafes, shiny boutiques, top-notch museums, a legendary restaurant scene make Paris the runway model of cities. You could go for an evening meal at relaxed contemporary bistros which offer simpler meals, split your times amid the Louvre and tinier Museums and discover the “Real” Paris on the Canal St. Martin.

It’s famous for its cafe lifestyle, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, the Moulin Rouge, pastries, and fashion. Paris is frequently seen as having splendor, grace, and as being a confidently romantic city.

Here’s a tip you need to remember in Paris when you’re in the best city break in Europe.

If you want to tour the city, Uber is low-priced than taxis and are the ideal way to travel around if you don’t want to wait for a bus or pay for a taxi. The Uber Pool choice is where you could share a ride to get even better savings (though you could get your own car as well). And make sure you get a Paris Museum Pass, it’s a prepaid card that gets you admission to around 70 museums and landmarks throughout Paris.

Rome, a City Break in Europe

Rome is still one of the best and ancient cities in the world. You can explore St. Peter’s Square, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Spanish Steps, Roman Forum, Sistine Chapel, Vatican Museums, and the Palatine Hill.

Rome is famous for its spectacular architecture, with the Colosseum (one of the most famous and emblematic monuments in the world), Pantheon, and Trevi Fountain as the chief appeals. And, you’ll find the tiniest nation in the world in Rome; Vatican City.

Here’s a tip when you’re in Rome on your Europe city break.

Go on a complimentary walking tour – This is a brilliant way to discover more about the history behind the places you are exploring and acquaint yourself.

Get a tourist card – If you are going to visit several museums, think about purchasing one of Rome’s countless budget cards like the Roma Pass, Archeologia card, or the Biglietto 4 Musei (Four Museum Combination Ticket). You pay one flat charge for all the appeals.

Iceland

Generally recognized as “The Land of Fire and Ice”, it’s also the land of light and darkness. You can explore the black sand beaches of Reynisfjara, uncover the marvels of the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, relish natural treatments at the Blue Lagoon which is a geothermal spa, and perhaps the country’s most toured geothermal spa and try whale watching in Husavik.

It’s famous for the Northern Lights, gorgeous and untouched nature, and Vatnajökull glacier the largest glacier of Europe.

Here’s a tip to keep in mind when you’re in Iceland on your city break in Europe

Check weather and road conditions – When you look at the forecasts for a clear night on your search for the northern lights, keep in mind to check about road conditions and check for travel alerts too. Icelandic weather is known to vary quickly, so it’s important you observe the weather conditions frequently over the course of the day.

Switzerland

Switzerland might be a tiny country but there is so much to view and experience on your city break in Europe. You could visit the Matterhorn and encounter some stunning views, tour historic castles, explore 200 peaks, ride the Jungfraujoch Railway, and acquire a visual retreat and tour the Lucerne Historical Sites to discover more about cultural facts.  

The country is famous for its picturesque Alps, its rolling hills, meadows, lakes, medieval towns, astonishing culture, gorgeous festivals, and tasty food. It is also famous for its chocolates, cheese, and watches, while the Swiss knife is a myth in itself!

Here’s an important tip to know when in Switzerland

If you plan to travel around the country, think about getting a Swiss Travel Pass. This offers discounts of nearly 50% on the bus, train, and trams. Aside from the savings with public transport, the pass also provides complimentary entrance to around 500 museums and galleries all through the country.

A City Break in Europe, Tenerife

Tenerife is the island of a thousand encounters. You can get lost in nature, unwind on the beach, hike Teide, stroll the ancient town cobbles, explore the cultured port settlements, visit delightful historic towns, enjoy a theme park or try some golf.  

The Canary Island of Tenerife is famous for having the tallest mountain in Spain, and also for its black lava beaches.

Here’s a tip to keep in mind when in Tenerife

Hire a car, particularly if you are a first time traveller to the Island. It would offer you astonishing freedom to tour all sections of the island, and Tiede Park is a must-see, it’s your decision if you want to pay 25 euros for the cable ride to the top.

Spain

Spain is both a stereotype come to life and a country more varied than you ever thought. You can explore stone palaces, snow-covered mountains, massive monuments, and classy metropolises, all of which have made it a preferred travel destination.

Spain is famous for its great food, brilliant people, its picturesque splendor and its huge coastline. The country has become a favorite destination particularly for the food-loving, wine-hugging, and siesta-enjoying people.

Remember this tip on your Europe city break in Spain

Transportation in Spain – Spain is pretty well linked through high-speed trains which means that you could easily get from one place to the other. With that being said, the ideal way to travel around Spain in our view is to hire a car. Not only would you have the freedom to travel wherever you want to but it would also permit you to tour smaller uncharted places.

Greece

Greece is historic sun-bleached ruins penetrating blue skies, the mild Aegean slurping a boundless shoreline, and a culture alive with passionate music, delightful food, and thrill-seeking pursuits. You can explore Athens, the Peloponnese, the Cyclades (Santorini), and the Dodecanese archipelago (Rhodes).

Greece is famous for the formation of the Olympic Games, and for its exceptional and historical construction. Some examples consist of the Acropolis in Athens, the Sanctuary of Delphi, and the historic Theatre of Epidaurus, and the Meteora; A UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1988, Meteora is a marvel of nature and architecture alike.

Keep in mind this tip when you’re in Greece

Try the local food – If you are looking for customary flavors, then get to the middle of the city. The ones most visited by the natives are found at the bottom of the Acropolis. These are the customary mom and pop restaurants. Some of the old-fashioned dishes that you should not miss out on are moussaka, souvlaki, and baklava.

A City Break in Europe, The Algarve, Portugal

The Algarve, Portugal is one of Europe’s preferred holiday destinations, you can relax on dreamlike beaches, tour seaside caves, tee off at some of Europe’s top golf courses, and lose yourself in attractive old towns.

Algarve, Portugal is famous for being delightfully diverse, able to charm an extensive cross-section of tourists; there are immaculate beaches for families, waterparks and theme parks for thrill-seekers, lively nightlife for partying and ancient towns for cultural tourists.

Here’s a tip to remember when you’re visiting The Algarve, Portugal on your city break in Europe

Take Public Transport – While trips of the Algarve or driving yourself around are ways to go, the cheapest and easiest method is to utilize the area’s trains and buses. That’s because while rental car prices go up in peak season, the price of train tickets stays the same.

Malta

Malta is an archipelago that rests amid Sicily and the Northern African coast. It is filled with fascinating architecture, excellent turquoise sea, delightful cities, and a relaxed vibe. You can swim in Comino’s Blue Lagoon, experience the Panoramic View at Upper Barrakka Gardens, explore the 3 cities of Cottonera, play at Popeye Village, and visit the silent city of Mdina.

It’s famous for its diving, architectural locations, and festivals, Malta is also a popular film site in its own right. Malta’s theatrical cliffs, magnificent landscapes, and historic structures make it the ideal setting for several feature films and TV shows, mainly those focusing on an old-fashioned feel.

Remember this tip on your Europe city break in Malta

Malta Public Transport runs public bus services in Malta and Gozo. The service covers both islands quite well. Malta has 80 different routes and the smaller Gozo has 15.  Also, the best about Malta’s bus system is that it is combined with Google Maps, and the stops are plainly specified!

A City Break in Europe, Gran Canarias

Uncover beaches as diverse as the landscapes of Gran Canaria. The volcanic sites, the exceptional Macaronesian flora, and the widespread pine forests make Gran Canaria worthy of this exceptional honour from UNESCO. You can experience sailing, yachting, windsurfing, water-skiing, scuba diving and so much more.

Gran Canaria is a destination with plenty of diversity on offer, but it’s most famous for its beaches. There are around 80 expanses of golden sand surrounding the island, most swept by the type of waves surfers dream of.

Keep in mind this tip when you’re in Gran Canarias

Transportation – A car provides the greatest flexibility for travelling around Gran Canaria. Around Las Palmas, the motorway could get hectic in rush hour, but past the metropolis, traffic is light and driving is a delight.

Majorca

There are plenty of things to do in Majorca to delight you, you can trek across the dramatic summits of the Tramuntana mountains, relax amid the vineyards, look through markets or choose one of the 300-plus beaches and bays to call your own.

It’s famous for beach resorts, cozy coves, limestone peaks, and Roman and Moorish ruins.

Here’s a tip to keep in mind when in Majorca

There are several bus and train systems which link many parts of the island, but in the summer buses are frequently very hectic – so get in the queue as early as you can.

Ibiza

Ibiza is all you require for an ideal summer holiday. You can explore sandy beaches encircled by nature, astonishing cliffs and turquoise crystal waters, make sure you try scuba diving, and snorkeling too.

Although the island’s size is comparatively small, it is filled with amazing marvels, appeals, and things to do. Ibiza is extensively famous for its wild nightlife.

Here’s a tip about transportation on your city break in Europe, Ibiza;

Ibiza is a small island and it’s very simple to travel around it. You could use public buses but they won’t take you to every section of the island. Though to explore at your own pace the best you could do is to rent a car.

Travel Center offers the best deals and hassle-free travel experiences so that you could have an exciting, informative, and breathtaking city break in Europe!

Read More:- https://blog.travelcenter.uk/a-week-in-breathtaking-europe/

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#travel #travelcenteruk #travelvibes #wanderlust #traveller #travellife #travelgoals #bestplacetotravel #Holidaymakers

[seenashwrite]

Build Me Up, Buttercup - Part Two: An Angel, A Demon, And A Vampire Walk Into A Garage.

Status: Part 2 of ___  Word Count: 3.5K  Category: Multi-Part; Alternative Universe:Fantasy [maaaybe] ; Pseudo cross-over [“The Princess Bride”]; Adventure; Humor; Parody; Friendship; Family; see Grandpa’s list in Part One as well [wink]   Rating: Teen & Up  Character(s): Dean, Sam, Female O.C., Grandpa & Grandson, various SPN past & present Pairing(s): Sorry, kiddos - you’ll have to wait & see Warnings: None Author’s Note(s): Shifts between the “real world” and the "book” are in larger text; see more post-story Overall Summary: See Part One Part Two Summary: Dean struggles with his new reality - and a familiar trio arrives on the scene to shake it up. 

           * ~ * Build Me Up, Buttercup : Master Post * ~ *

.

Flipping to the next page, the old man went on.

.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed. "What if something happens to her? I'm afraid we'll never see her again!"

"Offffff course you are," Dean replied with a sly grin, having not missed the way his brother had been stealing glances and blushing around their - he had to admit, quite intelligent and pretty - former apprentice for months.

"She has always said she would drop everything for us if we needed her, that she'd be there for us, and you had to go and---"

"How can you be so sure she’d come through for us? She hated my guts, Sam. Absolute pure hate, right down to the knee in my junk, you think that happens every day!?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "To you?! I haven't got a clue how many times that must've happened to you!"

As fate would have it, Sam was right - not the crotch thing, the first thing. Their one-time hunter-in-training never made it to her destination. It seemed that during her travels, she decided to investigate a case she'd gotten wind of and ended up on a ferry that was attacked by vampirates, who never leave captives alive. 

And so when the Winchesters got word that she'd been murdered---

.

"Murdered by vampirates is good!" exclaimed the kid.

.

---a frustrated Sam fought with his brother before quickly packing up only what he needed, and leaving the bunker, driving through the night, neither eating nor sleeping - not even reading any of The Lore - for days.

Dean ate an entire large pizza with extra mushrooms and their accompanying bread sticks, gave shots of coconut rum a try, ate three bags of Doritos, vomited down the hallway, then indulged in a ten-hour porn marathon, all interspersed with the occasional forkful of apple pie straight out of the tin, and a case and a half of beer.

The first day.

"I will never rum again," Dean muttered to himself, just before letting loose one final belch and passing out.

More than a few years came and went, during which something very strange and inexplicable was happening to their world - and for the Winchesters, this was saying quite a lot.

Sam had not spoken with Dean since the night he'd left, though he kept tabs on not only his brother but the ever-evolving drama within and amongst the various supernatural factions.

Without the brothers' influence on otherworldly doings, politics began playing more of a role than they had in the past. Contracts and treaties in place for years, possibly centuries even, were regularly challenged. Deals were made under tables. Established powers were pushed out - or murdered - to make way for new sovereigns. And one self-appointed monarch in particular had recently come out on top.

In the front yard of a newly-constructed mansion (near castle, truth be told) that was quite out-of-place in a modest province of the country called Florin, people were packed nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. They were waiting to hear an announcement from their ruler Rowena, the once self-proclaimed Queen Regent of Hell, current self-proclaimed monarch of Florin, and it was a very special announcement, indeed - she was about to reveal her husband-to-be.

Trumpets blared and the crowd hushed as Rowena stepped out onto the large balcony several floors above the front door of her earthly pseudo-castle, flanked by members of her coven.

"My perky peasants! In just one month, it will be the tenth anniversary of what I know has been the happiest times of your putrid existence - the day I started my reign. And at sundown on that day, I shall wed a wee lad who was once a commoner, like yourselves. But I suspect you won't find him so common now, will you? Would you like to meet him?"

The crowd roared - many due to the threats being whispered to them by Rowena's minions who were sprinkled throughout - but most were excited for the reveal because it put them that much closer to the buffet and ‘80s cover band awaiting them in the backyard. Plus, word was the pool had a slide.

"People! I present to you my little Buttercup, the Crown Prince of Florin - Dean!"

Dean gradually stepped into the crowd, walking slowly on a red carpet that stretched from the gazebo in the side yard, then across the circular drive, through at least twenty flower-laden archways, ultimately finding himself next to the gaudy, jewel-accented fountain that featured two sculpted cherubs pissing on each other instead of down into the basin.

.

.

The sneer on his face was locked-in tight, as was the shiny gold crown atop his head. Like Rowena, her coven, her bodyguards, her minions - and all the townspeople, as required by the new laws - he was dressed in clothing that was close to, but not quite hitting the mark of, something one might see on people living around the year 1700. The colors seemed too bold, the gold accoutrements too shiny, and his shoes all seemed to have heels.

Dean looked at the crowd, actually a little envious - at least they didn't have to wear brocade tunics that felt more like dresses, and stupid tights that cramped his junk, and those damned heels. Even the bum who was perpetually wandering about the town square - or, to Rowena's great disdain, lounging in front of her mansion - got to wear boots. On the other hand, they were worse off than he was in a lot of ways. Rowena had sent the entire continent back into a dark age. Not like the Dark Ages, but close enough - the people were both literally and figuratively in the dark.

After only a little less than a decade's worth of her spell-casting, it seemed like everyone, excepting those heading into this world-upending disaster with prior knowledge of the supernatural, had forgotten where they were and what time period they lived in. They simply accepted any modernity from Rowena and her crew as par for the course, just a royal's life versus a peasant's. Though her coven had provided a few changes of clothing for each person, handed out horses and cows like crazy, and worked their mojo to get crops to spring up right away, she'd cut off all utilities, drained every service station of gas, even shut down land lines, isolating everyone completely.

And Dean had absolutely no idea why, or what he could do about it, especially without his friends. Without Sam. Hell, he'd have even taken help from what's-her-face, though her getting ganked by vampirates still made him a bit giddy to imagine.

But nevertheless, his emptiness consumed him. Although the new laws of the enchanted land gave Rowena the right to choose her groom, and despite what he suspected was an abundance of attempted spell-casting on him specifically by the coven, he did not love her.

Dean gagged when he thought about the upcoming wedding night. He'd been drinking so much over the years - that is, the ones since Sam left, and the one during which he’d been stuck in Florin - he couldn't even get fully drunk anymore, so how he'd manage to get through it was beyond him. Didn't matter that Rowena reassured him that it'd be the best night of his life due to her centuries of experience; after that tidbit, he actually had thrown up.

He would cheer himself by sneaking away at night - minus the tights - and would stay in the shadows of houses for a few miles til he could cut across the old mini-mall parking lot that was now occupied by grazing sheep, in order to reach his favorite place. Dean always took a deep breath once he'd entered, inhaling the comforting smell of motor oil and metal. Taking apart cars - or just pieces of them - and putting them together again was his only remaining joy.

And he was so focused on his task at hand, laying on his back, rolled underneath his latest project, that it didn't register with him initially how unusual it was to hear another person's voice that late at night, much less inside the abandoned garage.

"A word, sir? We're male models looking to pick up a little work, you happen to know of any runways around here?"

"Nope, nothing for miles."

Then Dean frowned as he felt himself being yanked out from under the car, and thought he got a glimpse of someone familiar before everything went black.

Crowley stood to the side, inspecting the knuckles of the fist he'd just used, while Gabriel helped lift the unconscious Dean, keeping him propped upright as Benny squatted a bit, then hoisted the passed-out prince up and over his shoulder.

"You know, it really annoys me when you do that," Gabriel said to Crowley. "I had a great zinger all ready to go: ‘Then there will be no one to hear you scream' - I mean, come ON."

"What's that you're doing, there?" asked Benny, watching as Crowley meandered around the garage, splashing little drops of something from a small bottle on the floor.

"I'm leaving a clue behind for Mother's hounds. A touch of Eau de Moose."

Benny and Gabriel shared a confused glance - Crowley saw their expressions when he turned back to them, then sighed before he explained.

"Not an ounce of forethought between you. That was watered-down fancy shampoo, one that's not readily available around these parts now-a-days, but via my contacts, I happen to know entire cases are whipped up by Rowena's little band of bitches and sent as peace offerings to the only thing standing between her and access to the last active hellmouth on the continent."

Benny and Gabriel stared at him blankly.

"The kingdom just a hop-skip away? Guilder? Used to be Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, actual Mexico, whatnot? Where we're headed shortly? Across that abyss of a bay that popped up, formerly known as Oklahoma?"

No response.

"Where the big little brother of our princess here---" Crowley gave Dean's ass a sharp WHAP that echoed through the room "---has set himself up on the throne? You lot are too dumb to breathe."

Crowley made his way out of the garage then, shaking his head.

"Uh, vampire," Gabriel pointed out, jabbing a thumb in Benny's direction, then swinging it around to himself. "Angel. We don't exactly need to have a lot of breathing happening."

They followed after Crowley, keeping behind buildings and speaking quietly, guided by a soft glow Gabriel let out of his eyes - not even worth a 100 watt bulb, as the coven's double-downed stranglehold on the energy in and around Florin extended to demons and angels and any other creatures trapped in the their bubble.

"So what, boss, idea is your mama will think Sam came and got Dean?" asked Benny.

Crowley nodded. "And when Dean's body is found on Guilder land---"

"Whoa!" Benny exclaimed, stopping immediately.  "You never said anything about killin' anybody."

Crowley whirled around to face him, angry.

"I hired you to help me start a war. It's a prestigious line of work with a long and glorious tradition."

"I just don't think it's right... killing Dean. Don't ever seem to work, anyhow."

"Am I going mad, or did the word think escape your lips?! You were not hired for your brains, you sharp-toothed bucket of gumbo!"

"I agree with Benny," said Gabriel, crossing his arms.

"Oh, warped-wings has spoken! What happens to Dean is not your concern. I’ll kill him!  And remember this, never forget this - when I found you, you were so depleted of grace, you couldn't even conjure strippers and candy!"

Crowley turned back to Benny.

"Then you! Pale, munching on mangy, anemic animals, hopeless! Do you want me to send you to where you were, hiding in caves, in Purgatory?!"

They continued on to the docks in silence, all climbing into the modest wooden boat that was powered only by a combination of wind in the sails and - mostly - Benny's rowing. After they settled the unconscious Dean, Gabriel untied the line. Benny sat near the middle, picked up the oars and began to row, while Gabriel lit a small lantern near the bow. 

And Crowley pulled a flask from his jacket, leaned back, closed his eyes as he began sipping.

Benny's grip on the oars was tight and his jaw was clenched and twitching. Lack of full strength and diminished powers aside, Benny was a big dude. And while Gabriel still had enough juice to at least get himself out of the vampire's way should he opt to let the fists fly, he was pretty sure Crowley would get quite the beat-down if the muscle of their trio got angry enough. 

He didn't want to kill Dean, either - would’ve been happier if it was Crowley. Still, like it or not, they were going to need Crowley and his contacts to get hold of Sam. Then it was left to hope, that Sam hadn’t changed, that he would still go to bat for Dean, and if not Dean, then for the greater good in general - not terribly unlike the need for Benny to cool off and realize Crowley couldn’t be dealt with quite yet. They needed all the allies they could get, even the questionable ones.

And so it was, Gabriel decided to do what we was best at: making a joke of a serious situation.

"Yo-ho-ho, matey," he said to Benny with a cautious grin. "So... any limericks you, ah... know know know?"

Benny's rowing slowed just long enough for him to shoot Gabriel a look that was somewhere between puzzled and annoyed, then got back on rhythm.

"Whoo, tough crowd," Gabriel said under his breath.

A few moments of silence passed, and Gabriel scooted a little closer, spoke a little lower.

"That Crowley, man, he sure can... bitch."

Silence for another few moments, but then:

"I bet it's 'cause his mama's a witch."

Gabriel stifled his laughter, but a glance over his shoulder told him Crowley had caught the retort due to the exaggerated roll of his eyes, followed by a large pull off the flask.

"Aw, he's just a little sack of... charm," Gabriel said.

"Well I’m gonna help him buy the farm," Benny shot back immediately.

Now Gabriel snickered loudly, and Crowley spit most of his mouthful out, spraying it over the side of the boat but also sending a healthy amount down his chin and onto his jacket.

"Enough!" he growled at them.

"Hey Benny, should we choke him dead?"

"’Fore we do, I best get fed."

Crowley cursed under his breath and went to drink more from his flask, only to find it empty. He chucked it into the water, then whipped his head around to face his companions - the flash of red in his eyes silenced them effectively. For several hours, the only sound was the swish of the paddles and the occasional gust of wind hitting the sail.

The sky had been overcast but now handfuls of clouds dissipated. The moon and stars were bright enough that Gabriel extinguished the lantern. There were little waves to speak of, and they could now see the smog-topped crag looming in the distance, the ones rumored to make climbers insane - and they’d have to scale it, their captive in tow, in order to get to the Guilder border.

"We'll reach the cliffs by dawn," Crowley commented, then frowned at Gabriel. "Why are you doing that?"

He was referring both to Gabriel’s present location and the focused expression on his normally affable face - the archangel was still near the bow, but was facing backwards, looking behind them.

"Making sure nobody's following us," he replied slowly.

"That would be inconceivable," Crowley declared.

"Despite what you think, you'll get caught - and when you are, hoo-boy, is Rowena gonna light into your sorry asses."

They all looked to the sound of Dean's voice.

"Hey, you're up!" Benny exclaimed, a genuine smile on his face.

Dean's jaw dropped. "Benny?"

"Yeah, brother. Good to see ya."

"Wish I could say the same - what the hell, man?!"

"You know, of all the asses on this boat, your highness, the one you should be worrying about is your own," Crowley said to Dean, with nothing but contempt - and perhaps a touch of jealousy - in his voice. He received an enthusiastic bird in response.

Gabriel sighed, then turned back to his scouting.

"Stop doing that! We can all relax! It's almost over," Crowley demanded.

"You're sure nooobody's following us?" Gabriel responded without turning, still studying the waters behind them with concern in his eyes.

"As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable! No one in Guilder knows what we've done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast." Crowley paused, his eyes narrowing. "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?

Gabriel shrugged. "Oh, I dunno, I just happened to look behind us and something's there?"

"What?!"

Crowley scooted away from Dean and closer to Gabriel. He was pulling at his collar in a rare show of nerves, but then cleared his throat, adjusted his tone and posture back to one of nonchalance.

"Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise at night."

"Oh, totally - through the witch's eel-infested waters," Benny tacked on sarcastically, pausing his rowing to take a look as well.

"Yep, like you do," added Gabriel.

But the ne'er-do-well trio jumped in sync at the sound of a splash, turning around just in time to see Dean emerge from his dive, paddling furiously away from them.

Crowley shoved Gabriel's shoulder. "Go in! Go after him!"

Gabriel gave him a look. "I don't swim! I snap fingers, badda-bing, badda-boom, I'm there."

They both looked to Benny.

"What?" he asked.

"Go!" they answered.

"I only dawg-paddle," he replied, moving his arms in said stroke’s motions for emphasis.

The demon and the angel raised their eyebrows in near-unison.

"You were a sailor," Gabriel said slowly.

Benny let out a half-chuckle. "Yeah, the boys always gave me hell for that. Funny, huh?"

"Aarrrgggh!" Crowley yelled, and lunged at Benny, rocking the boat briefly.

"For cryin’ out.... just..... here, come on, start getting to the left," Gabriel said, pushing Crowley aside, taking one of the oars from Benny.

And then they all froze - including Dean, who stopped moving forward and started treading water - as a horrid screeching sound filled the air.

Crowley began to laugh, saying,"You know what that sound is, you wet little squirrel? Those are the shrieking eels! If you don't believe me, just wait - they always grow louder when they're about to feed on flesh!"

Dean's eyes grew wide and he was startled as he felt something large brush past him, causing more than a few extra ripples in the water.

"If you swim back now I promise we'll figure something out, Dean - and I doubt you'll get such a deal from your new scaly friends."

But Dean didn't have time to reply because one of those aforementioned scaly friends had circled back around, hovering just below the water about ten feet out, seemingly prepping to head right at his face.

"H-hey there, buddy?" Dean tried, tacking on a shaky grin, though his charm was wasted.

Suddenly it began its charge, obtaining such speed Dean knew there was no chance he could swim away in time, and right when it was moments away, unhinging its jaw and letting out one final victory screech----

.

"Dean does not get eaten by the eels at this time."

The kid blinked, startled out of his concentration. "What?"

"The eel doesn't get him - I'm explaining it to you, because you looked nervous," his grandfather said, glancing down.

The kid followed suit, noticing for the first time that he'd been wadding up his bedding in his hands as he'd listened to the story.

"I... I wasn't... wasn't nervous," he replied, loosening his grip. "Well,  maybe I was a little bit concerned but that's not the same thing."

"We can stop now, if you---"

"No, you could read a little bit more, I mean, if you want to," the kid jumped in immediately.

With a nod of agreement, and an adjustment of glasses, the old man went back to the page.

"'You know what that sound is, you wet little squirrel? Those are the shrieking eels! If you---'"

"Past that, Grandpa. You read it already," the kid interrupted.

"Oh... oh my goodness, I did. I'm sorry. Beg your pardon. Alright, alright, lets see... uh... he was in the water, the eel was going after him, he was frightened, the eel started to charge him and then..."

.

----Benny leaned over and knocked out the eel with one punch while Crowley and Gabriel hauled Dean onto the boat.

Crowley was already beginning to tie a shivering Dean's hands with rope, Gabriel holding him in a semi-choke hold, when all three turned towards the stern due to a loud, sucking, toilet-plunger-on-a-mission type of sound.

Benny looked up and over the eel, to which he was currently giving a deep-fanging, mumbling, "What?"

They continued staring.

"What?!" he demanded, greenish-blue blood sneaking out the corners of his mouth. 

"Let's give the little fella a burial at sea, huh?" Gabriel suggested gently, and though Benny seemed disappointed, he let his late dinner - or early breakfast, depending on how you looked at it - slip back into the water.

But now that Benny was back to rowing and Dean was tied up to Crowley's satisfaction, Gabriel released him and stood, resuming his survey of what was now clearly another boat, similar in size to theirs, and not terribly far behind.

"I think he's getting closer," Gabriel muttered.

"He's no concern of ours! Sail on!" Crowley snapped. Then he turned narrowed eyes back to Dean. "I suppose you think you're still brave, don't you?"

Dean was gazing absently over Crowley's shoulder, at the cliffs which were just beginning to glow thanks to the barely-there sunrise, when he quietly responded.

"Only compared to some."

See Nash Write EVEN MORE! 

*~* Main Master List *~* Mobile Master List *~*

Wanna be tagged? Need to be removed? Check this out first to see which of my three tag lists you’d like to be part of / removed from - then hit me up! 

Did I just hear you say you’d like a preview of what’s to come???

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Is that a rapier?" Gabriel asked, astonished, turning from the edge of the cliff to look at the others. "Have either of you got a sword, because I sure as hell went and left mine back in the pocket of my other pair of homemade britches, in my other life, pre-Rowpocalypse, oh no WAIT, no it’s not, because I haven't ever NEEDED one!"

"I thought you were a soldier," Benny said, in a snotty tone not unlike the one used on him when being asked how it was a sailor couldn’t swim. 

"We weren’t fencing,” Gabriel replied, testy, though he shrugged, adding, “Besides. I blew the horn."

"You were the boogie-woogie bugle boy?!"

Barely sputtering the sentence out, Benny then fell into gales of laughter, bending at the waist to grab his knees, gasping.

--------------------------------------------------------

"I don't mean to pry, but - you don't by any chance happen to have any red lipstick?"

The masked woman paused in her boot-shaking task and stared for a beat or two. "Red's not your color," she informed him.

Gabriel chuckled, glanced down, but when he looked back up, she was surprised to see slightly glassy eyes.  

So she pulled a tube from her bra, because where the hell else was she supposed to stash it in that getup? And further, it wasn't like she was gonna leave it on the boat to melt. She liked the pop of color against the monochrome clothing, not to mention the vitamin E and SPF. After all, those of the vamp persuasion needed to be mindful of peeling or chapped lips. It was just common courtesy, don't judge her.

She uncapped it, rolled up a bit, and tilted it towards him. 

He noted the deep neutral hue and gave a satisfied nod, saying, "Thanks."

She nodded in return, then began putting her boots back on as he - without being asked - launched into his backstory.

"My sex life was ruined by a red-lipsticked woman..."

--------------------------------------------------------

"Abs, you know how much I love watching you work, but I've got the  anniversary celebration to plan, my wedding to arrange, my husband to murder and Guilder to frame for it - I'm just swamped!"

"Oh, Ro," Abaddon said sympathetically, walking back over and giving Rowena a quick, no-bodily-contact, pseudo-hug. "Listen to a former queen, alright?"

"Do not tell me to get some rest," Rowena said flatly.

"No, I'm going to tell you to get a pedicure. If you haven't got your open-toe Manolos, then you haven't got anything."

And with a blood-red, half-hearted smile - plus two quick air kisses - Abaddon turned away and headed down to the pit, though she did pause, glanced over her shoulder, gave Rowena one last piece of advice.

“Might wanna run by the salon, too - your roots are showing.” 

--------------------------------------------------------

"I don't envy the headache you'll have when you wake up - but in the meantime, sleep well, Benny-boy. And dream of Cajun women."

--------------------------------------------------------

"There's a shortage of perky nipples in this world - so hell, what’s two more?"

Dean jumped, dropped the angel blade, and wheeled around, eyes widening when he realized who was lying on his bed.

“YOU?!?” he bellowed.

“What’s up, Buttercup.”

--------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, you know-it-all: what about the A.S.S.E.S.?" Dean demanded.

"Angels Sulking Silently, Especially in Swamps?” she asked, then shrugged. “Eh. I don't think they exist."

Which is, naturally, when she felt like a steamroller came at her from a particularly dank grouping of trees just off to her right - and whatever it was, it smelled pretty dank, too.

Author’s Note #2: I should *NOT* have to say this, but here we are -

The samples/teasers above from upcoming parts BELONG TO ME; they are not ideas or concepts that are free for other authors to use, even if I NEVER USE THEM; I often toss people “freebies”, but I make it clear when I am fine with them taking a concept & running with it.

Author’s Note #3: Tangentially related: I am aware that maaaaany many many many others have done this cross-over. I have only scanned over two, myself, and was actually asked advice on one of them. As noted, the first part was intended as a one-shot spoof, but it grew.

None of the others [see above, RE: two] I’ve seen have tackled it the way I am/will be doing and, as I stated in Part One of this story, >40% is completely of my imagining, minus the re-creation of certain scenes in the novel/the movie.

This story began on 21 March 2017, so if you stumble upon a TPB/SPN cross-over story that was published prior to that date & has such stark similarities to mine that you think I should address it, please don’t hesitate to let me know.

* Removed old tag list for length’s sake! - Jan 2018

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #The Princess Bride #SPN Meets The Princess Bride #Nash Writes

[chvrchesrp]

Welcome to CHVRCHES’ seventh event!

The Centennial Ball is our second choice event, in which we set a scene and split your characters up into groups dependent on how many points you’ve acquired so far. Once in that setting, you can create threads as you see fit for your muse. The settings and information shared in this post are considered game canon, whether or not you explore it deeply. While this event will have its own shocker of an ending, during the first part, we want to let you guys explore the ball and have some fun.

The date stamp for the event is Saturday, March 25th. Be sure to include that in your posts for timeline purposes—though you aren’t restricted to beginning them the 25th, of course—you can even begin them today ♥ Long post ahead:

The night blooms with possibility. The columns beckon you in, as if you were always meant to be among the shining throng of those blessed with prosperity and good fortune. The air smells of sandalwood and a hint of jasmine, just enough to tantalize the senses, but exceedingly subtle. The windows are draped in expensive fineries: promise and nostalgia. The mansion normally calls to mind many things, but tonight, it feels literally like walking into a dream, another world, a parallel universe where anything can happen—and might. You retain control but everything around you feels... gorgeous and precious and fleeting, where anything can be yours reach out to touch it. Indeed, everything here is meant to be touched, tasted, enjoyed. It is a party big enough to be intimate: privacy among all of the moving bodies, nobody listening too closely—a party meant for masks, for indulging in your innermost desires and curiosities, with no one the judge or jury. It's freedom—for a night. 

What do you do with it?

"In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars..."

When you enter the entryway, you take in the setting: the stairs that wind themselves upward on either side, the glass doors straight through that open onto the veranda and the salt water pools beyond. There are fireplaces and corridors, but you've been instructed, just for now, to wait. That the waiting makes everything sweeter, the anticipation, the curiosity for the unknown almost so tantalizingly knowable. You were given a loose blindfold to tie over your mask when you entered, told you would know when to use it. The music is alive around you; there is a balcony with the sounds of a live band playing electroswing, the perfect mix of modern dance and 1920s memories. Caro Emerald croons into a dated looking microphone, her hair as perfect as her smile, singing A Night Like This. Slowly, two silhouettes make themselves known at the top and center of the stairs.

Front and center is Renee Thornton, Vice of the Church of Sinners, here in all her regalia to present the evening at its finest. Her black gossamer dress is adorned with swarovski detailing, setting her to shimmer like a dark jewel in the center of the pale hall. Behind her stands Lucifer, his arm out with hers regally on top of it, as a proper escort. His suit is finely tailored, but understated. There are hints of gold in the cufflinks, the tie bar, but overall he is a man whose suit is class. He smiles brightly at the crowd as Renee gives a welcoming speech, speaking with pride about the hundred years the Church has been active, has grown to one of the three largest in the world. Only when she is done, do the two share the first dance. Then Renee invites everyone to put on their blindfolds; each person is led into a room, thereafter able to remove their blindfold and experience the evening.

Six people are left in the entryway:

Babylon, Maria, Magda, Elijah, Adele, and Renee.

As the people with the highest amount of points (14 apiece), these muses are free to roam about the cabin, as it were. They can go to whatever room intrigues them: the choice is theirs and theirs alone. The one offer they are given is this: For the price of 24 points total, one person can make a request of Lucifer with no strings attached. (Think of it like the Godfather on the wedding day.) The caveat is that it must be a defined favour, not one to be owed at a future date. Determine which person should ask it of him, who contributes which points, and what should be asked for.

Special Notes: Elijah will willingly sell his soul tonight. 

The rest are moved into one of 7 rooms upstairs: (There are 3 people per room; we ask you try to thread with each person, if possible, so 2 threads per player—try to use this as an exercise to engage in ways they might not usually, given the scenario, and branch out who you write with, if the scene doesn’t come naturally. You won’t be held to this, but we would encourage it! After you do at least one thread start in your room, you can move to other rooms to do as you will.)

Evening Notes: Do not drink more than one bottle without discussing with Admins first (some effects clash!), so choose your first bottle carefully! The effects will only last for the night.

ENVY

Leviathan (0), Shibah (1), Abaddon (3)

This room is an octagon. Once inside, it appears as though there is no way out of it. Each wall is a 2-way mirror, so while those on the outside can't see in, everyone inside of it can see out. One wall shows the pale hall, but all of the others show glimpses of the other rooms that everyone else can enjoy—but all you can do is watch, and envy, and figure out how to open the door without a handle. The room is empty apart from a small glass table with legs in the shape of snakes, not unlike the feel of Alice in Wonderland, with a series of stoppered bottles on it. Some are pearlescent and shimmery, marked with "trip" - others are gold and sparkling, marked "fortuna." If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store...

WRATH

Cassiel (3), Olivia (4), Donato (7)

Special Notes: Tonight, Lucifer has released his grasp from Olivia. She will feel better than she has since she can remember—not only is she no longer sick, she’s no longer possessed. The weight in her chest, the pressure behind her eyes, and all of those things have suddenly disappeared on entry.

This room has a taxidermied lion in it, appearing to weep diamonds, at the center. Beside it is a small table with stoppered bottles on it: some are a deep, fiery red that looks viscous, marked “furia” and the others are a pale, translucent gold with red flecks, marked “invicta.” If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store... Elsewhere in the room, there are things that cause and accept damage. An expensive looking couch and a chainsaw; a baseball bat and a computer; a fine china cabinet near a wall covered in small spikes; other things of this nature. Also found, for those feeling a bit—darker—is a ‘confessional’ behind a curtain, where a cat o’nine and paddles and whips and a ball gag could be found.

GREED

Noah (7), Satan (7), Grace (7)

This room’s wallpaper is damask, but the subtle pattern in it is that of a toad watching over all of the festivities. The room is a miniature casino; a dealer is at the ready with high-stakes blackjack. There’s a roulette wheel asking you to name your wager: anything but money. There’s a slot machine where the prize—should you be so lucky as to win—is a LaFerrari Aperta. Drinks are freely offered, champagne and rocks glasses move throughout the space, and among those glasses—if you can spot one—are small, stoppered bottles. A few are pearlescent and purple, marked “lotus,” others are marked “streak” and are as green as money, swirled with pale notes of tan. If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store... 

SLOTH

Naomi (7), Dominic (9), Kezia (9)

This room plays to the dreamscape. The windows are open, the sheer curtains billow like clouds, the entire floor is plush and soft. The ceiling is painted like the night sky. There are soft blankets, a loveseat draped in suede, a fainting couch for reclining. Soothing sounds play the ocean lapping at the tides. There is a sand box—yes, a literal sand box—in one corner to enjoy playing in, or just running your hands through the grains and relaxing. There is a masseuse offering hand and foot rubs, and another person available to feed you grapes. There is a small cabinet with a snail-shaped latch against a wall that houses some stopped bottles: some are aqua and glittery, marked “lucid,” others are swirly seafoam coloured, marked “tranquil.” If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store... 

LUST

Ethan (10), Isadora (10), Zoe (10)

Of course there’s a bed, of course there is, and it’s round on every side except for the headboard, which is intricately carved mahogany with a scene of a goat grazing. The entire room is, in effect, a master bedroom—there’s the bed, yes, but also a fireplace and a beautiful crystal chandelier. There’s a small banquet by the window of aphrodisiacs: a chocolate fountain with bananas and strawberries; oysters and artichokes; figs and honey. There’s a table laid out with items to experience sensuality: a feather teaser, rose petals, whipped cream, body dust, reams of soft rope, massage oils, swathes of satin and faux fur. The armoire has lingerie and other attire inside of it of a wide variety. And of course, there’s the milk bath in the ornate claw-foot tub. Around the tub are small stoppered bottles, one hot pink and thick, marked “rouge,” and another “adora,” which is syrupy and red. If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store... 

GLUTTONY

Raziel (11), Jairus (11), Crowley (11)

This room actually has an alive, small piglet in it for your company and enjoyment. Please don’t hurt her, her name is Maenad, but by all means pet her. The room is its own banquet hall; the center and import of the room is a long, carefully carved and imported table upon which a black silk cloth is laid, so that the food stands out upon it. Not only is there an endless array of all kinds of sumptuous foods—anything you could want—it’s all taken great care to look as good as it tastes. Plating is superb and each dish that holds food was chosen with care, with its own luxuries. The seats are so comfortable, you may never want to get up. There are two people, naked, who are hired as waiters—but who have also consented to let you eat off of them, if you desire. They each hold a tray with stoppered bottles: one sort is pure white, like milk, with small red flecks and marked “snow,” another is mixed gold glitter in syrupy berry coloured liquid, marked “harvest.” If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store... 

PRIDE

Belial (12), Kiara (12), Isaiah (13)

Pride is an old-style smoking lounge of the early 1900s. It doesn’t smell because it’s incredibly well ventilated; inside are soft leather chairs, velvet curtains, and a small Turkish antique weapons collection. Smoking jackets are available for any who might enjoy to don them. There is a wall dedicated to expensive wines and the glasses that go with them to accordingly enjoy, as well as after-dinner drinks like brandies and cognacs. Of course, a wide variety of cigars are available to try, as well as hookahs in a range of flavours and bases. There are rare pieces of art on the walls and all the marks of those who have lived life well. The centerpiece around which the art is displayed is an arrangement of peacock feathers. In this room, there is an intercom, and anything reasonable will be delivered to you on request. The stoppered bottles in this room are pure gold, marked “prima,” or like black ink, marked “securitas.” If your muse elects to drink one, let an Admin know so you know what surprises are in store... 

At 2am, a shock moves through the mansion. Details on why will be revealed to you on Sunday. Enjoy!

#chvrchesrp #lsrpg #original rp #bio rp #literate rp #event #event 007

[apexart-journal]

Radha Gomaty in NYC Day 16

Washington

Schedule meant finding my way to the National Mall and looking for all kinds of monuments &memorials  that had been listed out to me to visit. As things stood  I was already quite late finding my way to my hotel , settling in and getting out again finding my way in the Washington  Metro .

What hit most in Washington are the interminable distances ,not quite friendly for a walker. It’s not even actually just the issue of distances but the fact that the scale is not human scale as in NYC.

You could ask me who am I kidding !

“NYC with its skyscrapers … human scale ,huh?we sure have heard that Love is blind ,baby …but this one hits a new high!”

No, Not that really .What i meant is this - down there on the road things are placed closer together .Even the skyscrapers that are all infinitely vertical than horizontal take up less space on the ground and are all  closely set together at a fair level of the eye.

Our (“Our ,eh?!this woman who is ‘inbound from South Eroor’ in all her hash tagged posts on the apexart journal on Tumblr says ‘our ‘ for NYC’s roads now? Wow!”) roads are narrower too ,and so yes,infinitely and comfortingly ,more crowded.

It is also a question of layout-No friendly corner pharmacies, No small eateries  spread out over the place but only in specialized pockets almost .One can  walk  blocks and blocks without catching sight of even one.

The overwhelming feeling was that one was staying in an overly manicured ,scaled up picture postcard park.

That feeling was certainly heightened on reaching the National Mall, a huge sprawling over sized lawn spread over several football fields.

I haven’t really worn shoes & socks since was in school a few decades ago and I always hated socks because my feet perspire.

Already  having tasted the pleasures of kicking off my shoes the previous evening with the feisty Elizabeth Larison, who was assigned to guide me on a walking tour over the old Brooklyn Foot Bridge that being really old was still actually paved with timber  , I decided to do an encore.

So peeling off and  rolling up my socks together in one  grey woolly smelly ball stuffed into the innards of my bag and my walking shoes , tied firmly by their laces hanging to either side from the handle of my grossly overstuffed shoulder tote that was already weighing me down enough, I set off .

Sole and Soul sang a sweet duet.

Ah bliss! to walk with soles bared on the cool lawns , the gritty gravel , the textured earth …

It was like going back to my nine month barefoot existence when i was 17 year old undergrad Design student in NID, Ahmedabad when I gave up the use of footwear  for  nine months for some abstruse reasons related to Gandhi ,Thoreau, altering the feel of being or some such thing and also to cut the sheer bother to have to take off my footwear each time I chose to walk the grass and not the foot walks!

So the walk turned some other way .It was no longer about dragging myself across  Memorials .

Memorials and the insight that physical Memory too is essentially a construct came with the passing of a much loved One.

The whole process of Memory has been a personal journey as well for me over the past some months and days.

Being an artist is also about inhabiting that State of Being that glows up in rare moments of incandescence that total self absorbed engagement  evokes .

Inhabiting such a Form of Being in itself is the first and most primal Form of Art .It is infinitely easier for a creative spirit to understand that History, and every other story for that matter even our own autobiographical ones, is just  one thread amongst a hundred odd possible others by which these glowing beads are sought to be strung together ,’made sense of ‘. We have this inner compulsion to arrange and order things into Time and duration .We are conditioned to  simply not be content with the moments in themselves .We cannot leave these moments be in their singular ,pristine ,self born glory and have to compulsively tinker with their glorious This -ness …

The  notion of Time was invented in this itch -like tinkering .

Is it not the notion of Time that births the illusion of Gap  between a thought and its fruition,an action and its reaction?The inventor of Postponement?I n fact ,isn’t Time the Serpent in the Garden of Now that invented Desire because in the very notion of Desire is inbuilt the notion of Postponement?

NOW is raw .

It wears no clothes and in the upsurge of its sheer incandescence it scalds all masks &clothes away.

That is why in the aftermath of the serpent’s visit ,Adam & Eve.teh notion of clothes entered the picture alongside the notion of shame &guilt & fear & sin.

But in the aftermath of the serpent’s visit, the notion Labor too was born and brows that knew not what sweat was or hands the need for the intermediary of a tool became callused and worn because Hunger was born too as a postponement between the need for Nourishment and its fulfillment .In  the cool white intensity of Satya yuga(or the Eon of Truth ,the first of the four described in Indian scriptures  Light can assume a life form with just the meeting of the intensities of intentions  bypassing the messier commingling of physical bodies.

But in the aftermath of the serpent’s visit,instead of the bliss of a play like fluidity of boundaries that can shift and change at will,Sex, now reduced to a specific  act between two kinds of bodies designed for the purpose    entered the scene .Birth  now entailed the processuality of a prolonged Pregnancy & Labor…    

As the Buddha observed succinctly-Things compounded tend to fall apart  . So it is with History  as well which is a composing  or threading by the string of a chosen strand of whatever narrative that serves best the pre defined purpose at hand ,the many moments of a collective existence together .In administrative interest it is important to keep certain narratives stronger  and more compelling than others are .

This can be created  through frequent repetition one over the other like the devices of chorus in music or alliteration in poetry  .Overlaying it with sentiment and other sensory cues  that can be triggered then easily by the slightest suggestion later by which the needle correctly falls in ,running through and playing out what has been already  etched in through repetition through the grooves  as Habit.

Of course some moments are always there , the sort that poets swoop on with the alacrity of falcons ,that do not quite jell with the chosen  main narrative .These are easily dealt with the oft used devices of omission usually by   ignoring and  passing over in silence .If that doesn’t work ,then by  invoking processes of demonization that lead to the convenience of a Graveyard  like silence once Taboo  buries it under one of its its leaden headstones.  

Some moments of the inaasimilable-as-they-are may lend themselves to some  photoshopping (tweaking).Which also works to build the edifice of Memory& Memorials …

Oh Well.

Whatever .

Perhaps that is why whenever i encounter a proliferation of memorials in one place a pinch of salt immediately finds its place between my thumb and forefinger .Well and truly ,I dont know how it gets there .But that pinch of salt  is what carries me safely through all the machines of history making without getting unduly caught in any of its busily grinding teeth.

The Washington Obelisk Tower has great light effects with the sun breaking out through the gathering clouds. A man from the Philippines and I helped each other snap the customary  “I have arrived.Look at me!” portrait-before-famous-monument scrapbook memory shots.

I am supposed to cover an impossibly high number of memorials in this one evening walk -the Vietnam memorial ,the t World war 2 Memorial,the Martin Luther King Memorial, The Lincoln Memorial  and if possible ,also the Thomas Jefferson Memorial across the River.On the way I notice plenty of museums as well  .Two suddenly draw me to them with that light visceral tug that always is a right indication that there is something in there for me . They were  the Museums of Asian Art in America and The  Museum of African Art.

No time to enter and it is almost closing time anyway .

I’ve a schedule to cover,you see!

(the schedule  !the schedule! oh… the schedule!)

It is already getting late into the evening.

I hear strains of music far away and somehow feel that following it will lead me to Martin Luther King’s memorial and decide to follow the sensations in my feet and in my ears.

On the way I see a sunken plaza of fountains,cascading streams with a pool in the centre and scores of people taking pictures around them .This is the World War Two memorial.

I walk through it skirting the crowds and continue my engagement with bare feet upon earth till I at last see the source of the music far away in what looks like a rather severe Greco-Roman looking structure.

A revelry is on on there in complete contrast with the mood of the building itself . I go closer and see the band playing .Playing is not the word .They  are rocking ,belting out lively Latin American Music  to which all kinds of human bodies-youngsters,hipsters, teenagers,school kids,senior citizens , folks in their middle years, all kinds of couples from various nationalities and sexual orientations are flowing together in  a River of revelry.

Ol’ man Lincoln meanwhile looks on with his rather saturnine expression  from atop his stone throne set high on the many tiered stone steps at the saturnalia there in uninhibited progress.

I choose not to climb up the steps and read speeches but weave my way through the infinitely more interesting human throng.

I have been walking nonstop so long I think it is wisdom to calculate the distance that I have to walk back now and  turn to retrace my steps .

Half way through as i walk the cold breeze gathers strength  ,the darkness deepens .Walking endlessly i find myself in line again with the Washington obelisk where I began my barefoot sojourn and the gathering rainclouds begin to pour  .

A true New Yorker & and a true  Keralite have one thing in common  -a handy all season umbrella in the bag at all times to brandish against all inhospitable weather.

It looks like I am the only one on National Mall with an umbrella.

Well,I looked around and I realize ,with or without umbrella .I am perhaps  the only one left in the National  Mall!

I sing out loud in the rain splashing little puddles as I walk…Bob Marley,Louis armstrong ,the songs of Ella what have you in my best possible jazz imitation voice.

The Red brick  Cathedral  that I had passed earlier rises to view on my right .For a moment I have this urge to enter and kneel in silent prayer in one of the old wooden pews in the high domed interior I imagine hung over with paintings&chandeliers  .

Its entrance  up  a flight of stairs was however cloaked with ink dark shadow. I put out only one tentative indecisive foot to the right in a step when something  stirs in the dark and calls out in a low male voice .A glint of eyes: “Hello Ma’am…”

i immediately changed plans, withdraw that outstretched foot as gracefully and unobtrusively as I can (What if it was just a homeless man calling out for hope of some financial assistance that i am anyway unable to give now?why hurt his feelings?) and maintain my brisk pace.

There is not one person to whom I could ask directions to the closest  metro station whose terrible signage is legion in Washington.

Amazing!

Not a soul on  the road after just about 7.30 pm?!

Ugh! What a stick-inthe-mud respectable town , i say!

Give me my crazy swingin’ old NYC any day !

I finally spot a man and a woman from afar.

But as I approach to ask there is a sudden scene change. She on second thoughts turns to gaze into his eyes  and soon in that deserted bus shelter,they are locked in a long lingering gentle kiss in a little pool of light  with the rest of the roads  looking like a neutron bomb had fallen on it exterminating all signs of Life.

Except me ,who stood there turned into the all-seeing -eye -of -God looking upon a wonderful moment when time stood still for two people.

Directions to the Metro station be damned! I walk on feeling very pleased .Overall ,in this country I love the fact that people express their intimacies without reserve-I recall my  moments of Subway joy in NYC- an old couple twining and untwining palms with slowly caressing fingers at the metro station as they stand talking about perfectly ordinary things, A couple basking in the park calmly leaning on one another in the sun -she is dozing lightly with an open book across her belly and  he is texting with one finger supporting her weight upon his chest.Two youngsters in love lingering over a kiss to say goodbye as they prepare to catch trains in opposite directions for the night.Two men , both in skirts sitting in each other’s laps chatting happily oblivious to the world.

It’s nice.

How uptight are we back home!How merciless are we in our censorship while hunger & desire claw our innards to the point of near manic violence that we do our best to keep declawed,defanged or at least chained and hidden in a cage in the cellar ,dark and redolent with droppings.

Meanwhile a Japanese man in a suit looking almost as lost as me zero in into one another asking directions and we decide to team up in a spot-the-metro station contest .

Though we fail first attempt , the distance covered becomes time for mutual self introduction .At last we find ourselves before a drab grey building and spotting a man in uniform decide to ask him where the Metro is .He pointed into the building with an equally grey drab  expression.That  anonymous hulk of a building   happened to be just it!

Back home it would have immediately drawn out an indignant interjection -“ithenthaa!valla vellarikka pattanamo?!”

(Lit.Transln: “is this some kind of cucumber town or what?!”

Meaning  :”is this some sort of ridiculous village or small town growing cucumbers?

(The  smallness of the town is measured metaphorically in terms of a settlement that raises low value produce like cucumbers!!!)

Really ! is Washington an overgrown village where everyone is just supposed to know where things are ?(Actually ,that’s all I meant to say ,folks!)

My gentlemanly escort, though going opposite way ,graciously waits till I get the gate opening-with metro card -ritual straight and waves with that slight inflection of his spine that his culture has unmistakably ingrained in him as he moves on.

This is  just like I do instinctively  the first touch-on -forehead-and-then-the centre-of-chest routine  every time my feet unintentionally touches someone on a train .It is an ‘I respect your sanctity’ gesture that we pick up as children because where we grew up  to place one’s feet on anyone  is construed a disrespectful act.

(In fact even crossing over any living being is seen as a no-no because the physical body also includes the invisible aura of energy around it that should not be desecrated by the touch of feet!)

I get off finally at Farragut North station with disrupted Late running  trains due to repair work & dysfunctional elevators of which I counted at least  five in my two and half days stay there .

That certainly made me feel very good indeed about our stuff back home. If this is the scene  in Washington, the power capital of the world,you are excused ,little Kochi !

I am starving after ,I suppose, my ten kilometer circuit walk today .

Finally losing my way to the hotel ,I   stumble into small shop where a man of Caribbean descent sells baked stuff he makes himself  starting with what we call savory puffs back home for about 5 dollars each .

When i call the lobby a fourth time to please send someone to to teach me how to use the coffee maker , a slightly tired looking but attractive african origin woman walk in. Alice Walker ,66 ,is a generous soul who warms up to me and begins to chatting even fetching me extra satchets  of coffee .We chat on about her decision to quit the US and go back to Sierre Leone where her husband waits for her leaving behind her three married daughters in Washington  because “… no-one knows how to live or eat properly here and my knees are killing me with all this standing on the job and boy! dont I need some rest now! ”

I do too …

A large watery cup of coffee later , I chat with a friend and in one on the two large looking beds in a room far too big for one small lone me.

I fall into a deep untroubled sleep.

#radha gomaty #inbound from south eroor