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the-froschamethyst4 · 8 months

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It’s always Uncle Gaz

𖤐Pairing: Dad! Price x Mom! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, favoritism, language, jealousy

𖤐Summary: Price gets a little jealous when his kids favor Uncle Gaz over him about anything

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9:30AM

Y/n was woken up by her two kids Beau and Iris making a ruckus downstairs. She rubbed her tired eyes and saw John wasn’t in bed.

Maybe he’s handling it?

She removed the covers off her body she lazily got up out of bed still tired, as she walked she bumped into the doorframe with her shoulder earning a soft groan.

She yawned and saw her kids and husband at the kitchen.

“Daddy, Uncle Gaz makes better pancakes than you,” Iris said as she held up a burnt pancake.

“Honey, that was a test one,” he chuckled.

“No it wasn’t, you said you’ll give it to Beau!” Iris yells.

“HEY!!” Beau yells.

Y/n chuckled at her family getting her families attention.

“Mummy!” Iris yelled and ran to her mom hugging her legs but Y/n picked her up and kissed her temple.

“What are you making, daddy?” She teased in a mocking tone of voice and walked to her husband.

“Pancakes, fruit, toast and orange juice,” he says before kissing his wife ‘good morning’.

“Uncle Gaz makes homemade orange juice,” Iris said, Y/n set her on the ground and she wondered off.

“I should just…never invite Gaz over anymore.”

“Huh why?” Y/n asked as she fixed herself a cup of coffee.

“Because…” he looked to his children and grabbed his wife’s wrist.

He pulled her into the hallway that led to the kids bedroom. He rubbed his temple and looked down at her, she had a confused look on her face.

“John?”

“I’m tired of it.”

“Of what? John, you’re scaring me a little.”

“Gaz…every little thing, it’s always ‘Uncle Gaz this, Uncle Gaz that’,” he mocks his kids tones of voice.

“Price. They just love him like they love you, they just get excited when Gaz comes over. He always brings them gifts and cooks for them, so of course they’ll talk about him a lot. That doesn’t mean they love him more than you.”

“Feel like it does…they never say ‘daddy this, daddy that,’ it’s always ‘Uncle Gaz’.”

“Uncle Gaz, is just someone they also look up to…Iris just loves his cooking, Beau loves his gifts, they do love you, Price, I promise they do,” she stood on her tippy toes and kissed his lips.

After some time. Beau, Iris and Y/n all got ready to go to Simon’s house. Simon wanted to build a garden but didn’t know where to start, so he asked if Y/n could help him. She agreed and also agreed to bring the kids because they love helping in the garden.

“Kids, come on let’s go to Uncle Simon’s house.”

“Uncle Simon?” Beau said peaking over the couch.

“Yes, I have to help him with his garden, Beau do you want to come?”

“Yeah.”

“Mummy, I don’t want to go,” Iris said crossing her arms.

“Okay, come on Beau,” Y/n said. Beau chased after Y/n as Iris plopped on the couch taking the remote and turning the channel to her favorite cartoon.

“Iris…do you wanna go swimming?” Price asked.

“Can Uncle Gaz come?”

“No,” Price says, quickly but calmed himself down. “No, not today, baby, just us…okay?”

“Okay,” she got off the couch and ran off to go change into her swimsuit, the same with Price.

He grabbed black swimming trunks and grabbed sunscreen from the bathroom closet.

“Daddy, is my hat on right?” Iris came into the bathroom with a purple bucket hat, a Princess Aurora bathing suit on.

“Yep,” he fixed it just a tad before grabbing flip flops and they headed downstairs to the backyard.

Iris waited for Price to remove the pool cover. She bent down resting her hands on her knees as she watched a bee go from flower to flower.

“Iris,” he called. She stood up and ran to him, he picked her up. "Don't run near the pool, you'll get hurt, always walk."

"Yes, daddy," she smiles. She was placed on a beach chair and Price sprayed some sunscreen on her skin, he pours SPF 50 on his hands rubbing it in and rubbing it in her face.

"There, now arm floaties," he dunks the arm floaties in the water so they could slide on her arms a lot easier, and he pulls them all the way up almost under her armpits.

"Okay, come on," he claps his hands and picked up Iris. He slowly got in the pool, he felt Iris's arms wrap around his neck.

"It's so cold," her teeth chatters.

"I know, I know, but you'll get used to it," he said as he slowly sunk down in the pool and Iris pushed herself off his chest, she started to move around and played with some of her pool toys.

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"Uncle Simon, what are those?" Beau asked, pointing to a basket full of packet of seeds.

"Umm I bought, corn, sunflowers, tomatoes, bell peppers, banana peppers, eggplant, cucumbers, zucchini and..." He grabs the last packet. "Pumpkin."

"Why, pumpkin?" Y/n asked as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

"To make pumpkin pie, my aunt made a mad homemade pumpkin pie and I still have the recipe for it," Y/n just chuckled and shook her head.

"What? It's good," he said.

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Price leaned on the edge of the pool, his head back and arms on the sides of the pool. He opened his eyes and looked down at Iris, she was sitting on the side of the pool with her toys in her hands.

A Barbie doll, Ken doll and some small animal figures. She would use her regular voice for Barbie and try to drop her voice when she played with Ken.

Price smiled at his daughter and swam close to her. He Sat on the edge with her, and she immediately gave Ken to him.

"My throat hurts when I play with him," she coughed.

"Iris," she looked up at him with her big doe eyes.

"Yes, daddy?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah~? Why?"

"Well...you bring up Uncle Gaz a lot..."

"Because I love his cooking, his gifts and when he comes over and he'd play with Beau and me...sometimes you and mama can be busy and when he babysits us, we always have fun and I love Uncle Gaz."

"I see..." he said as Iris played with her Barbie's hair.

Price kissed her forehead and played with Iris.

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A few hours have passed, Price went into the house and grabbed some snacks for her and him, Iris sat on her beach chair, she was wrapped in a towel picking at her nailbeds.

She grabbed her water bottle and took some sips from the bottle. Price came out with two plates, he sat in the chair next to her, he helped her get her arm floaties off and watched her go after the watermelon he had set on the plate.

He watched when she took a bit some seeds landed on the sides of her cheeks. He chuckles and rubs his thumb over her cheeks and removes the seeds on her cheeks.

"WE'RE HOME!!" Y/n yelled from the house.

Iris looks at the house and saw her mom and older brother come back home from Uncle Simon's house.

"Mummy!" She yells and runs to her. Y/n picked her up and kissed her cheeks.

"Mmm~ How's my baby girl?" She asked, before kissing her temple.

"Good, daddy made us lunch," she pointed to her plate.

Price smiled at his wife and daughter, Y/n placed Iris back on the ground, she ran back to her food and Price stood up and walked to Y/n.

"So, how are we feeling about Uncle Gaz now?"

"I found out when we are busy, and Gaz comes over...he just spends so much time with them...and that's why she 'loves' him."

"Mmmm~" she hums and kissed his lips. "I'll get changed and come out and hang out with you guys."

"CANON BALL!!" Beau came running out of the house and jumping into the pool, he barely missed Iris when he jumped in.

"Guess, I'll be back," she said, smiling and going back into the house.

---------

Y/n held Iris in her arms as Price and Beau were having a Splash Competition. Iris giggled when she watched her dad and brother jump into the pool.

"Daddy had a big splash," Iris smiles.

"Nuh-uh, I did," Beau argued.

"Nope, daddy did," Iris said.

"MUM!" Both kids yelled.

"Beau," Y/n said with a giggle.

"YES!"

"Fine," Iris whined.

"You lied, didn't you?" Price asked as he moved closer to Y/n.

"I did...yours was big but I only lied to make Beau happy," she smiles.

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8:20PM

The kids got out of the bath and Iris was getting pajamas on ready for bed. She walked down the hall to her parents' bedroom; she pushed open the door and saw her mom put on an oversized t-shirt.

"Mummy, I'm ready..." she yawned.

"Alright, come on," she moved her daughter out of the bedroom, Price was getting out of the shower.

Iris fell on her bed and got under her covers. Beau came into his little sister's bedroom waiting for his turn to be tucked in.

She kissed Iris's forehead and turned off her bedroom light leaving on the little nightlight in the wall. She now moves Beau to his bedroom.

"Alright, Beau," she said as he got in his bed. "Good night."

"Night, mum," he said as she walked out of his bedroom, and she headed back to her shared bedroom.

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Price came out of the bathroom and saw Y/n on her stomach reading a book. Price smiled and crawled on top of her and kissed her neck and her between her shoulder blades.

"Price," she coos. His hands ran up the shirt she was wearing which was actually his shirts. His hands stayed on her waist.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she chuckled a little confused, he fell next to her and moved a piece of her hair from her face.

"Are you finally over why, Iris loves Gaz?"

"Oh yeah, I'm over it. I now know I am the favorite," he smiles all cocky.

"Yeah okay," she giggles and playfully pushed him away.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #cod price

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sourtomatola · 9 days

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Taking Candy for a Fool part 19 (last)

You took in a sigh of relief as you saw Sun and Moon, still monstrous and gangly, kneeling in the center of the group of candy critters. They beckoned you over and you hugged them.

“Actually, Marionette grabbed me and had me sleep in their box with them. They kept me safe. Nightmarionne also gave me a taffy ball. I did eat it, is that okay?” You told them. The other candy creatures gasped softly at the news, making you looked around confused. “What?”

“Marionette doesn’t like anyone that much, and Nightmarionne hate everyone.” Sun explained. “Nightmarrionne’s taffy is rarer than our drops. Everyone knows you now, Cry Baby. You have all of our thanks. We were able to take the factory for ourselves.”

“You plan to stay here?” You asked curiously. “You don’t want to see the world??”

“Where in the world would beings like us be able to be safe?” Sun asked in in solemn awareness. “The sun is hot, we melt. The cold makes us brittle, and shatter. The rain will wash us away…We will be safest here. We have what we need, we can still carry out orders online with what we shed, we can just do it in our own time. We will be okay I think.”

“With a bit of guidance.” Moon added. “Maybe we can make a garden to grow the fruit to sustain us better. We can grow it on the room, or tear out a part to get the sun in. Maybe we can have Bee’s as well, to pollinate the plants and make us more honey to live on too.”

You smiled at their ambitions, happy to think of them being able to stay safe, no longer tortured nightly. Free to do what they wanted.

They moved slightly to show you that behind them, was Eclipse’s body. You swallowed sadly at the sight. You were glad he was no longer hanging from the wall though.

Puppet slithered in, crawling towards you all. They nipped a bite of stuck taffy off your leg, making you flinch. They smirked and continued to Sun and Moon, who they handed small metal box to. Your friends looked to Eclipse’s body, and you put the pieces together.

“Is that Eclipse’s core? Can you fix him??” You asked eagerly.

Moon observed it for a moment before sighing and showed you a puncture mark. “Too damaged…”

“Oh…” You deflated. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, either way, he deserves to be buried whole.” Sun said and gently opened Eclipse’s chest cavity to let Moon put the core in its place. You watched reverently.

“I should probably go…” You told them after they had finished.

“Come back often, Cry baby. You’re always welcome.” Sun smiled and held you close. Moon joined in the Hug, and slowly, they began to shed the sharp pieces of candy shell on them. Long pieces of black Liquorice tumbled down your back, and chips of golden butterscotch fell to the floor, shattering at your feet.

You pulled away to look at your shiny shelled friends. Sun’s rays were crystal clear and flawless, his eyes brighter than you’ve ever seen them. His candy ribbon ruffle’s colors were brighter, with extra thin stripes detailing them. Moon’s hat was extra soft and wafted the sweet scent of liquorice. His gummy candy collar and ruffles were fluffier and softer. They were so smooth, and had never looked better. Or happier.

The other candy beings started to shed their extra monstrous forms. They all shifted, shaking slightly to help the shedding along, new gloriously pristine forms showed them to you. Carl Cupcake looked at himself and let out a sound of displeasure to not being scary anymore, but it just made you giggle at his childish fussing.

“When you come back, we may have a secret password. Just say it’s our Cry baby, and we’ll know~” Sun grinned teasingly.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “See you guys in a bit.” You said as you headed to the factory exit. The silent halls, once filled with screams, now had a soft lullaby starting. You glanced back at the group to see Puppet singing again, but more joy was in their voice than last you met them. Without their box, they seemed to flout in the air, their tiny numb of feet drifting off the ground. Moon started to sing with them, taking Sun’s hand. Sun joined in the song, making more of the candy being joyously sing together in their newly found freedom.

end :)

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writersmorgue · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 21 - Unresponsive

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 1332

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Time-activated quirks are rare. Izuku knows, he’s studied many. He was fascinated by the logistics the first time he read about one in the news. The quirk usually being transferred by some physical touch or substance from the user- slowly dissolving into the victim like a pill.

Pro hero Buzzkill has a quirk that gives its victim a bee sting-like welt every four and a half minutes. The vigilante Combo Breaker has a quirk that breaks one of its victim's fingers every two minutes.

And apparently, the villain he’d been fighting on patrol also shared this unique quirk factor.

The debrief had said the guy was quirkless, but one look at the shoes on his feet told Izuku otherwise.

Now, four hours and twenty-five minutes later, he’s lying on the floor of his kitchen unable to move.

His nose is pressed at an uncomfortable angle, mere inches from where his coffee mug was smashed to pieces when he dropped it.

He’d felt this odd pain in the base of his spine when he got off of patrol, and after his post-shift nap, it had only been higher up on his back and twice as intense.

Apparently, when it got to his head, he was due to lose all motor functions. Great!

The good news is that Katsuki should be home any minute, and he can pull Izuku out of this cold, black coffee puddle. Maybe he’ll even put him back in bed if he’s feeling generous.

He’s not sure how long he waits. His eyelids have drooped close, though he couldn’t open them if he wanted. He spends a while trying to determine if he’s breathing or not, but his whole body is so uncomfortably numb that he gives up.

Soon enough, the door opens and Katsuki’s gym shoes are kicked off into their cubby.

“‘M home.” He grumbles, probably not expecting an answer because Izuku is usually still napping when Katsuki gets back from his morning gym run.

Izuku isn’t sure what Katsuki notices first, maybe his socked feet lying on the ground, or the bits of red, blue, and yellow ceramic that probably skidded across the room.

“Deku? Did you fuckin’ fall?” His husband scoffs, rounding the corner to see Izuku sprawled on the floor, “Oi, get up dumbass.”

Izuku mentally winces, not prepared for the absolute earful Katsuki is going to give him later.

Katsuki walks closer, nudging the broken pieces of mug away, “Izuku?”

Ah, he’s anxious.

Izuku might’ve predicted this issue if he had thought a little harder. He’s not in any real danger, so there’s no need to worry-

“Izuku?!”

But he doesn’t know that.

“No come on,” Katsuki mumbles out loud, trying to reason logically like Izuku knows he does when he’s scared, “he hit his head and passed out- no, there’s no blood. He was tired? Maybe he wanted to sleep on the floor…”

Katsuki comes up behind him and drops to his knees, rolling Izuku over.

Light flashes in front of his eyes, but he’s powerless to blink at the sudden flash. Katsuki curses when his head flops back and smacks the tile. Stars fly across the black of his eyelids.

“Izuku, wake up.” Katsuki presses his fingers under Izuku’s jaw and curses.

There’s no way this quirk stopped his heartbeat- right?!

Katsuki pries one of his eyelids open. The cool air burns but he doesn’t flinch.

His pupil must not react either, because before he knows it Katsuki is tugging him into his arms with a frantic whimper and launching himself across their living room.

Katsuki places a leg in between Izuku’s own and wraps one of his arms under Izuku’s shoulders so he can use the other to propel them into the sky.

The wind whistles by Izuku’s ears as Katsuki wastes no time getting them to what he can only assume is the hospital a few blocks away.

The strain his arm must feel right now can only be extremely painful but Katsuki makes no sign of it.

Izuku can feel them descending, just as Katsuki’s grip on him begins to slip. Katsuki stumbles a bit on the ground, lurching forward but being sure to keep Izuku’s body in his solid grip.

“HEY!” He shouts as soon as they step through the sliding doors of the emergency bay, “I NEED A DOCTOR NOW!”

“Sir please don’t-”

“Pro hero Dynamight!” Another nurse interrupts the first, rushing towards them, “What are his vitals?”

Izuku feels himself get flipped onto a gurney, lying face up on the cold, thin fabric. He can feel everything down to his hair follicles itching to form goosebumps.

He hears the nurse gasp as soon as his hair falls out of his face.

I might be wearing pajamas, but I’m still the number one hero, he figures. I’d recognize All Might in his pajamas.

“Is that-”

“Someone who needs a fucking doctor?!” Katsuki growls, “YES.”

The nurse barks a few orders at her coworkers and, from what Izuku can tell, sprints with him down the hallway.

“Vitals?”

“No.”

The cart shudders when she briefly trips, “N-No? What do you mean-”

“I mean he wasn’t fucking responsive. I came home and he was on the fucking floor. No pulse, no breathing, no pupil dilation.” Katsuki’s voice moves to his other side, and there’s more movement before Izuku is lifted over to a different bed.

The nurse hooks a machine up to him to start pumping his chest while she darts around him, checking various other vitals.

“Shit.” She whispers to herself, pressing her warm hands into his wrist harder.

Someone slams open the door, running to Izuku’s side. His hearing blurs while they yell orders at each other, pricking Izuku with various needles.

“C’mon.” A new, higher-pitched male voice grunts in his ear as what he can assume is a shot of adrenaline is pumped into his fresh IV.

“You said you found him like this?” Another female voice asks, farther in the corner of the room where he figures Katsuki is watching.

“He passed out, there’s no obvious trauma. I have no fucking idea why.” Katsuki grunts, voice warbling. “He was on patrol a few hours ago but there was nothing in the report that would warrant this.”

“It’s not looking…” She pauses, “It’s not ideal, but we can’t rule out the possibility of it being a quirk.”

“Nothing is rousing him. We can keep the compressions going, but his body isn’t showing postmortem symptoms. I think, truly, if he comes back it will be regardless of what we do.”

Katsuki sighs, “I’m going to call his mom. Take the machine off him, she shouldn’t see him like this.”

Izuku’s head jostles as they remove the machine, his chest already feeling the ache and forming bruises.

The nurse clamps a heart rate monitor onto his finger and leaves his side, rolling whatever monstrosity of a contraption they had waiting for him on a cart out of the room.

It’s completely silent for a few minutes, not even the usual steady beep of his heart that he associates with the hospital to keep him company.

The door swings open and footsteps move towards his side.

He knows it’s Katsuki as soon as their hands touch.

His husband’s warm hands cup his own, rubbing circles into his skin.

“If you die on a random ass fucking Thursday morning when you’re not even working I’ll make sure they send you to whatever hell exists for idiots like you.”

Izuku laughs inwardly, enjoying Katsuki’s touch.

“Shitty prank. You broke your favorite mug.”

Ah damn, he forgot about that.

Katsuki’s hair tickles his forearm as the man presumably leans down, pressing his lips to Izuku’s inner wrist, “If you leave me I’ll never forgive you.” He stretches a hand over Izuku’s stomach, resting it on his soft sleep shirt. “I love you, I don’t tell you nearly enough.”

“Come back to me, Izuku.”

And Izuku wishes more than anything that he knew how.

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post-uwuifer · 28 days

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According to all known laws of aviation,there is no way a bee should be able to fly.Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.The bee, of course, flies anywaybecause bees don't care what humans think is impossible.ANumber2Pencil, Dec 7, 2016#1dinocerosDonatorMessages:7,482Likes Received:29,999Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black.Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little.Barry! Breakfast is ready!Ooming!Hang on a second.Hello?- Barry?

to make one decision in life.But, Adam, how could they never have told us that?Why would you question anything? We're bees

No one's listening to me!Wait till you see the sticks I have.I could say anything right now.

Hi my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I'm in the seventh year (I'm seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

"Hey Ebony!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was… Draco Malfoy!

"What's up Draco?" I asked.

"Nothing." he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!Let's open some honey and celebrate!Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae.Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!I'm so proud.- We're starting work today!

Today's the day.Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone.Yeah, right.Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal…- Is it still available?

Hang on. Two left!One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side.- What'd you get?

Picking crud out. Stellar!Wow!Oouple of newbies?Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!Make your choice.- You want to goetting the Krelman?

Sure, you're on.I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.Wax monkey's always open.The Krelman opened up again.What happened?A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one.Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!Oh, this is so hard!Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should… Barry?Barry!All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine…What happened to you? Where are you?- I'm going out.

Out? Out where?- Out there.

Oh, no!I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life.You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?Another call coming in.If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rdthat gets their roses today.Hey, guys.- Look at that.

Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.Really? Feeling lucky, are you?Sign here, here. Just initial that.- Thank you.

OK.You got a rain advisory today,and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain.So be careful. As always, watch your brot thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. Behold the handmaid of the Lord: Be it done unto me according to Thy word. They drive crazy.- Do they try and kill you, like on TV?

Some of them. But some of them don't.- How'd you get back?

im back UwUcifer, can i enter my own contest?

ah, stwuck again by wengthy ask anon! Mad wespect, yes yoo may UwU

#shitpost #gimmick blog

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slasherrcentral · 1 year

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Run, Rabbit, Run — Bo Sinclair. (18+)

Summary: after attempting to run away from him again, maybe you will finally learn your lesson this time around.

Note: this is so fucking filthy and i’m not the least bit sorry for it, bo sinclair has fully rotted my brain. please don’t read if you are sensitive to any of the triggers involving violence, stockholm syndrome, spit and blood or talks of murder. this is some shit below the cut and viewer discretion is very much advised.

Dedications: the wonderful @visceravalentines for inspiring this work with her fic “I’m so dirty, babe” because it’s changed my entire life. and also to the beautiful @bosinclairz , who inspires me to have a blog even half as cool as theirs. thank you !!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Warnings: predator/prey play, name calling and abuse, heavy stockholm syndrome implications, spitting, blood, choking, bdsm elements, topics that elude to past murders, slight voice kink ( if you squint ) ( not even if you squint ), extremely heavy and violent sexual content.

The morning air was frigid while your bare feet pattered against the concrete, your breath leaving your chest in heaving, tired gasps. He was right behind you, the tell-tale pattering of old, worn out black work boots was as clear as the day you’d stumbled into the tiny, vacant town of Ambrose, when he had to chase you down for the first time after discovering his horrible, malicious intentions. You’d been so stupid then, too naive and entirely too trusting. His low, sultry drawl had given you a false sense of contentment. Those piercing, wild blue eyes had drawn you in like bee’s to honeysuckle. He’d even gone as far as to call you darlin’, that wolffish grin peeking out behind sharp canine’s as his eyes scanned your figure, making you fidget in place. Denim shorts, white spaghetti strapped tank with a crimson red bra visible underneath the flimsy cloth. You should’ve ran right then and there, should have found something to clobber him over the head with. But you didn’t. You’d been begging for it then like you’re begging for it now.

“Run, little rabbit! Run!” Bo laughed manically behind you, sending a series of chills down your spine. He was taunting you now, always taunting and menacing. His disease lusted for the chase, for the terror he inflicted upon you. The deep, rumbling chortles and your pants were the only sound ringing through the abandoned, haunted town. Nobody was coming to save you. There was nobody for miles and miles. You should know, you tried to escape him before. Look at where that got you, restrained in an old medical chair and tortured for two weeks straight with no reprieve from your misery. Your body was still blanketed with scars from that incident, constant reminder’s of who you slept next to at night.

You could still feel the stitched up wounds, courtesy of Vincent, on your inner thighs, rubbing against the denim of your washed jeans, blue jeans that had belonged to another girl before you, a girl that had thought she could escape too. Her worn, tattered Polaroid picture was still hanging up inside of Bo’s makeshift workshop. It was taken not long before he’d grown tired of her whining, and put her out of her misery with the sharpened blade of his hunter’s knife. You wanted to rip up that picture, chew it to pieces and spit it out on the ground. You did not like the idea of him still looking at her after you fell asleep at night, when your hole was of no further use, thinking about all the things that he did to her.

He was right, when he’d spat in your face that you never learn, duct tape digging viciously into your wrists. You didn’t think he’d be in the house this morning, didn’t think he would catch you making a bee-line for the open porch door. But he did, and now you knew, he was not going to make the same mistake again. You were dead. Another poor soul forever incased in wax, just like all the others, and you could practically hear them laughing at you as well. Stupid, stupid girl. Thinking you ever even had a chance. Stealing a glimpse over your shoulder, he looked murderous. Pointed, narrowed blue eyes burning into the back of your head. His top lip was curled up into a snarl, growls burrowed deep in his chest, canine teeth exposed to the dewy morning air. You knew Bo wasn’t running as fast as he could be, choosing to make a fun little game out of this instead. You hated his games. It’s because of them that you’ve almost been killed, strung up from the ceilings with ropes and leather straps as he took his careful time ruining your body. A body that was no longer yours — a body that he molded to his darkest, most unfathomable desires.

You were tired. You wished he’d kill you, get it over with once and for all. Vincent would make you look beautiful again, maybe he’d put you in the movie theater, where you could always watch a film. Where you’d never, ever be alone again. Where you could fade into nothingness. Where you could forget about how pitiful you were and how disgusting it was for you to love the very man who stole everything from you. Your goals, ambitions, drive for the future. You’d been on your way back to campus from your spring break trip when your car broke down, leading you here. Leading you to him. Hell, you’d even heard your name on the radio some months ago. Your parents were looking for you, your friends are worried, your teachers insisted that it wasn’t like you to vanish. Bo had laughed when he saw the tears on your cheeks, spitting that they’ll never find you here, that you’re his.

In a move that surprised the both of you, and because the little spitfire that Bo came to adore so much is still buried somewhere deep down inside of you, you hook your heels into the gravel and duck to the left, where a house was awaiting your heady arrival. Slipping on the morning muck—you crash right in front of the steps, a pained groan leaving your chest. Get the fuck up now, he’s right behind you, are the only two things your mind kept shouting. Despite your gasps for air and the pain, you manage to dodge Bo just as he gets within’ arms length of you. He leered at you, twisting to follow you up the stairs and into the shabby, white house. You’d flung yourself into the residence, pressing your frame against the door. It doesn’t have a fucking lock, you’re fucking stupid to think that it did. Barreling all of your weight against the door, which wasn’t much because you’ve lost a considerable amount since arriving here, sustaining a diet of eggs and sandwiches. Your teeth rattled within’ your gums as Bo pounded on the front door behind your aching back, screaming expletives, demanding that you open it up or he’ll carve you like a thanksgiving turkey.

“You’re really in for it now, little bunny.” He huffed out a callous chuckle. And then like rumbling thunder on hot summer nights or heat lightning cracking in the air, he slammed up against the door with his elbow. You’re whimpering now, scanning the house for an exit, but it seems like there’s none. There is, however, a staircase. Hearing the wood split, knowing that he was getting in, you slipped away from the door and made a run for the stairs. He was inside in a matter of moments, his chest heaving and his fists clenched tight at his sides. You’re certain that he’s going to kill you. You’d die here, in the little sad house on the corner, staring into those ocean blue eyes all the while. You hoped that when he does it, that he looks at you. That he see’s you, one more time, and that you’d sit with him for the rest of his days. It’s the very least that he could do for you. You bolted, his glare burning into your back, clambering up the stairs.

It took no time at all for him to reach you, wrapping a meaty fist around your bruised, scarred ankle. You’ve screamed, you’re sure of it, throat burning and warm, wet tears streaming down your cheeks as you began sending hard kicks behind you— hoping one of them would land. One had to land. Had to give you time to make an escape from his rage. “Let me go right now, you fucking psychopath! Let me go! I hate you, I hate you and this fucking haunted town so fucking much!” You’re rambling now, jumbled and frantic. He laughs, that bastard laughed at your hysteria—dragging you down the stairs, slowly now, one at a time. Taunting, always taunting, his malice gave you enough time to send a brutal kick right at his nose. Your kick landed, right on the bridge of his prominent nose. He yelped, surprised for a fraction of a moment, then he roared. Blood poured from the wound, dripping onto his tee, down onto the dirty, blue carpet below. You gaped, waiting, terrified. And when Bo’s gaze fixed back on yours, you knew that you were in for a world of pain. You’d knocked his favorite truckers cap off his head, made him bleed his own blood. Good, you thought. Means you hadn’t lost every piece of your soul—yet.

“You wanna play fuckin’ games with me, sugar? We’ll play, then. Disobedient little bitch, forgettin’ all of the manners I’ve taught you.” Before you had any time to prepare for the blow, he sent a monstrous kick with a steel-toed boot directly to your rib cage. You gasped, couldn’t help it, your lungs attempting to suck in the sweet air that had just been knocked from you. Your head was swimming— small mewls leaving your lips, sputtering out some thick coughs. “Look at ya, poor thang. Writhin’ around, helpless and achin’. Soundin’ sweet for me, singin’ like a bitch in heat down there.”

You were flung onto your back, eyes wide and scared, still dazed from the blow to your mid-section. Bo’s on top of you within’ mere moments, hands now latched tightly around your throat. You’re squirming under the weight of him, heels digging into the carpet and your mind beginning to haze over. It was brutal, you were almost certain that your eyes were going to pop out from their sockets if he pressed down any harder. He was showing sick, twisted restraint— you hated him, hated him so much for it too. He could just end your misery and get it over with. He could extinguish that inferno that builds up inside of your gut when you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat of his truck, windows down and taking in the breeze on back road’s, sandy curls that framed the nape of his neck swaying in the wind, pillowy pink lips curled into a grin as you sang along, obnoxiously, with whatever song he’d chosen.

Or when you’re both in bed, crushed against his chest, strong hand clasped against the swell of your hip bone whilst the other cradles a cigarette and he’d murmur praises in your hair and the crickets sang outside your window. Or when he made you true Louisiana cuisine, snapping at you to stop munching on his goddamned vegetables and grab him a beer from the fridge. When you did, he’d kiss the crown of your head. You needed, desperately, to get away from him. You’re in love with him inconsolably so, to the point where it’s killing you, right here and right now.

He let go. He fucking let go of you and then wrenched calloused fingers into your mouth, hooking the long, ringed digits over your bottom teeth and under your tongue, pulling down with such force that your head rattled. Your mouth popped open—slick and waiting, sobs bubbling in the back of your throat. His iris’ are pitch black now, the dark has swallowed up the light, primality glinting in pools of midnight hues. So busy gasping for air after his attack on your neck, Bo was anything if a man of true opportunity. He hadn’t yet made up his mind what he was going to do with you, what he would have to do to break you. You noticed gears turning in his head, pillowy pink tongue jutting out, running across his bottom lip. He wanted to hurt you, he was going to .. but there was something else, something that you couldn’t quite pin.

“Keep that fuckin’ filthy mouth open, ya hear?” Bo’s leaned down now, snarling into your ear, the smell of sweat and blood swimming in your nostrils. It was so overwhelming, so intoxicating. Made you burn down below, made you wither into yourself with shame. “I don’t wanna have ta’ ruin this perfect little face, that beautiful little mouth. My cock has always looked so good nestled in that throat, don’t ya think so, sugar? Makin’ me hurt ya’, thought ya’ knew better by now.”

A white glob of his spit pushed past his lips; dangled past his chin, slowly lowering into your plump mouth, one of his personal favorite assets on you. Now you’re squirming again, keening at him, a silent beg to cease his infernal teasing and sink his knife into your throat, but you should’ve known. He wouldn’t let you go that easily, not without proving his point first. His saliva’s drooling into your mouth — sliding it’s way down your throat and you’re swallowing it without any command, with meticulously trained obedience, courtesy of the man currently pinning you down to the dirty floor. He was smirking again, tongue poking out to wet his lips, and sanguine curls sticking to his damp, tan forehead.

“That’s fuckin’ right.” He crooned, “There’s my good, dumb little baby. Just how I want ya’. Don’t need one thought in this pretty head.” And then he backhands you, sharp and fierce. It busted your lip, throws your head to the side, makes you cry out in terror as pain radiates in your cheekbone. One hand made a quick work of hooking into your jaw again, keeping meaty fingers pushed invasively into your tongue while the other slid into your flimsy underwear. It hurt so bad, those fingers in your mouth and pushing against the newly opened wound on your bottom lip. And it felt good, too. So fucking good. He made a house inside decay and rot, and you lived there with him, singing songs on the radio and making breakfast in his shirt. Those wax figures were all laughing at you now, you could hear them. You were filthy, utterly grotesque.

Two calloused, rough fingers were on your clit. You’re strained and babbling into his hand, whimpering like some bitch in heat, as Bo so kindly put it. His deep, thundering groans does nothing to help your current state, only aiding your back in further arching, heart thudding wildly against his own. Slow, slicked circles around your swollen bud sent you reeling, exhausted legs still kicking underneath of his weight, white dots speckling your vision. His fingers were still locked on your jaw and stuffed inside of your mouth, and when you’d whined at him again because you felt like your teeth were giving way to his brute strength— he had taken his hand out of your battered mouth to send a ferocious slap to the same cheekbone as before. Bo knew that it would only hurt more that way … it did.

“B-Bo! Stop, p-please, just fucking kill me!” You cried, fingers digging into his white v-neck, as if attempting to anchor yourself into him, into that moment. Sticky, warm tears were freely flowing now, and he leaned in your face to lick them off your bruised cheekbone. He always did love how quickly bruises blossomed on you, like paint to canvas. His breath, always so hot and wet, invaded your rattled senses. Then, all at once, he sinks two fingers into your core, giving you no time to adjust before setting a brutal pace that had your legs shaking, your head thrown back against the staircase. “Stop Bo, stop, stop! F-fuck, I can’t take it! Please, please!”

“I know you’re lyin’ to me, angel.” He kissed your inner earlobe—sloppy wet kisses careening down your neck, before he stopped at your jaw to bite down. It hurt so bad, the skin breaking, your moans turning into sharp, bellowing shouts of agony. The dig of his fingers were keeping you grounded, expertly finding the sweet spot inside of your body like all the times before, calloused fingertips rubbing into the sponge of your g-spot and pulling an animal-like wail from the back of your throat, hips wrenching in an attempt to throw him off. “Christ, this cunt is fuckin’ droolin’. Makin’ a big ‘ole mess. You don’t know what to do with yourself whenever ya ain’t gettin’ stuffed fuckin’ full, do ya? Fuckin’ empty inside, needin’ somethin’ to scratch that itch.”

Tears continued blurring your vision- chest heaving as you struggled to intake enough air underneath of Bo’s braun. Your heels have stopped digging into the filthy, dusted blue carpet beneath your feet. Your fingernails have stopped assaulting his neck and chest, leaving a litter of angry, crimson red welts and scratches behind, which had only seemed to spur him on. His lips found yours, another all too familiar occurrence, gnashing of tongues and teeth and blood and spit and regret and stone-cold hatred and unspoken love all at once, your peak lurking dangerously close to the surface. He was right, always right. You needed him, needed this. You craved it, actually, and the realization only made your tear ducts well up more. When he broke away, he was feral looking as he loomed above you. And when Bo’s lips pursed to send another big, white glob of his spit directly into your face; spittle hitting your sore cheek, chapped lips and bruised chin, you screamed out for him, fingers digging into his back and arching off the floor with a steady groan, eyes rolling in your skull as wave after wave of euphoria overtook your body. His teeth were digging into your collar bone now, tearing skin and growling like a rabid dog, his arm was under your back and holding you against him as the rest of your orgasm has turned you into a mewling, squirming mess in his tight hold. Like a little kitten, you thought, trying to wriggle free from grasp and scamper off into the woods.

“Right there, angel. Jus’ like that. Feels so good when you’re cummin’ all ‘over my fingers, don’t it, my sweet girl? Almost made me forget about your punishment.” His southern drawl, filled with false comfort and low, rumbling honey, turned venomous again. “I’m gonna fuck ‘ya into the ground now, little bunny. When I get done with ya, maybe you’ll finally fuckin’ understand exactly where this sloppy cunt belongs, after I fuck it stupid. Not that you need any fuckin’ help with that.”

You were thrown onto your stomach, head smacking against the staircase and making you simper in pain; although, not as much as the hard knee pressing into your spine suddenly did. You cried out, legs aimlessly flailing once again. You could hear him making hasty, frantic work of his black leather belt behind you, and grumbled curses leaving his blood-stained lips. Your entire body was sore and stinging, eyes filled up with tears and dried tears staining your purple and yellow cheekbones. Your lip was split, your cunt was aching, sputtering and clenching around nothing, your spine threatened to give way underneath the weight of his clothed knee. “I-I’m so sorry, B-Bo! Please, please, I won’t ever run from you again!”

And when you heard the metal buckle release, before that same belt looped around your hands — securing them to the small of your back, you felt the weight of Bo’s love for you. He didn’t want to kill you, he didn’t want you to leave him. He couldn’t fathom what he’d ever do without your scrambled eggs and toast thats always just a little too burnt in the mornings, without your pattering footsteps behind him while he worked about Ambrose, always lingering and always wanting, eager for any chance to be near him. Or without your perpetual, infuriating kindness, how you’d cradle the nape of his neck and press kisses to his sweaty head, whispering in his ear how good he is, how he’s worth something. No, he couldn’t kill you, couldn’t ruin this, but he could make it hurt— he’d always make it hurt. Snarling, he took his boot off of your spine and made quick work of shedding your denim jeans and undies, pulling them down your legs with jarring force. You’d arched back into him without realizing it, seeking his warmth and his embrace. He laughed at you— again, reaching down to pull himself free from the confined black slacks around his waist.

“Ya ain’t sorry for nothin’ yet, angel.” He made a noise similar to annoyance in the back of his throat, “But ya will be, that I can promise ‘ya. If ‘ya wanna act like yer some disobedient little mutt with no fuckin’ common sense or house trainin’, forgettin’ what i’ve taught ‘ya, that’s how yer gonna get fucked.” With one big hand pressing in between your shoulder blades, whilst the other found purchase underneath of your waist, Bo’s cock was pressed up against your heat. Your stained face was pressed down into the carpet, which smells soured and stale from years of abandonment. You’re holding your breath, still trembling, waiting for Bo to sheath himself inside of you. “Here I was, fixin’ to be sweet on ‘ya tonight for being so good ‘fer me lately, only to find my angel tryin’ to run away. Mama must have been right, i’m a damn fool. You wanna break it, darlin’? Break this old heart of mine?”

You sobbed into the carpet—fingers digging into the fabric. You felt guilty, felt so damned guilty. It’s part of your sickness, part of who you are now. You never wanted to hurt him, even when you had opportunity, even when he made you bleed and scream and beg. Never wanted to know a world without him, without ocean blue eyes and calloused hands and the smell motor oil left behind on his clothes. If you ever were found, a therapist would tell you that you have what normal people call Stockholm Syndrome. All of your friends would plead with you to see reason and stop thinking about him. Your parents would want him to spend his life in prison. And all the while, you would dream of being back here with him. You’d be in that small cell with him, refusing to leave his side. You’re filthy, and fucked up, and dirty, belonging all to him.

Your tongue wanted to stick out childishly, at all the ghosts who’ve been taunting you since your arrival; wanted to tell them all to shove it. He was yours, he cared about you. You had him in a way that nobody would ever have him again. You ruined him just like you’re ruined now, bound together by your vileness, something not even Trudy could say from her grave.

“N-no! I never want to break your heart, please,” You didn’t know what you were pleading for, pushing the warm clench of your pussy into the head of his cock, “Bo! I need you, I need you so bad, p-please fuck me hard and make it hurt! I-I need it to hurt please, sir.”

The levee broke. Bo slid into your wet, willing hole with an ease that was almost embarrassing. Almost. This is where you were meant to be, right here- pinned under the man who you loved more than life itself, even if it’s never going to make sense again, even if it’s so wrong. Even when you felt him push your body into the carpet, even more so than it already was, his breath steady on your goosebump-ridden back as he gains his bearings, hissing through clenched teeth at the feeling. You held your breath, wanting to savor the sound, knowing that it’s your body that makes him lose his composure. His ringed fingers dug painfully into your shoulder blades, but you didn’t mind. Your face was smushed down into mildew-coated carpet, and you still didn’t mind. You’d pry open your chest and wrap your fingers around your still-beating heart, handing it over to him if that’s what he wanted from you. When he grants you with another bone-shattering thrust, hard and deep, stopping for a moment to grind his pubic bone into the flesh of your ass, you snapped back to reality with a loud wail, that bounced from the walls of the small home and makes Bo’s pillowy top lip curl up into a pleasured sneer.

“That’s my fuckin’ angel. My good fuckin’ girl, always ready to be pumped full ‘o me, aren’t ya?” That damn southern drawl, you could live inside of it if he’d allow you to. You nodded, the best that you could with your face shoved so brutally into the floor. But that wasn’t good enough, not for the man behind you. Bo’s thick, veined hand took mercy on your shoulder blades and grabbed a fistful of your matted hair, whilst the other locks itself around your waist in an iron clad grip that made drool start pooling in the corners of your dried, cracked open lips. “Speak up when I’m talking to ‘ya, girl. Won’t bother sayin’ it twice, either. Use ‘yer cute little lips and start singin’ pretty for me, sugar.”

“P-please, sir! I need it so bad, need to be full of you, need to be yours! Please, fuck me, please!” You were absolutely wrecked before he even started, babbling directly into the carpet while his hand held your face there by your hair, scalp stinging so pleasantly, your mouth drooling and hanging opened, waiting for yet another sticky, wet surprise from his mouth. And he began fucking you, in earnest, balls slapping against your ass with a volume that should be disgusting, so damned raunchy that it could’ve hit top views on the latest porn channel. You couldn’t get enough, didn’t want to ever get enough — wanted to feel that cock, always so thick and angry, plunging into your achin’, soaked little hole for the rest of your life.

“Right there, sir! Oh, fuck yes!” You’d moaned into the creaking staircase—your body moving on it’s very own accord, pushing yourself back against his brutal thrust, desperate for any release that he we going to give you; crimson blood still leaking from his nose and falling on your bare back with little droplets that makes your toes curl into themselves, cracking at the bone. There was a prominent warmth in your belly, a dam that was sheer minutes away from breaking, a heat that made the chill, morning breeze seem piping hot. You’re clinging to the surface, grasping at whatever purchase you can find on the floor, screaming for him like a banshee. He felt too good, he felt so good, and you wanted to kill him for it, make him bite down on your rage and on your searing, weightless devotion to him. Get a taste of his medicine, make him bleed for your loyalty. He was pawing at you now, keeping you in place against him, driving his cock into you at a speed that should be considered brutality, hisses and low, thundering groans echoing. But you’re alive, your body on fire, your heart swelling.

“And If ‘ya really think that I’d let ‘ya slip away from me, you’re dead fuckin’ wrong.” Bo hisses into your ear as a coil began to tighten in your stomach. “Ain’t nothin’ on god’s green earth as sweet as this cunt and she knows who she belongs to. You’d just come back to me, baby, beggin’ me to take ‘ya back again. Thats if, ya don’t go blabbin’ to the pigs—like the fuckin’ bitch that ‘ya are.”

“I-I love you, Bo,” you’re sniffling into the floor, “Love you, so fuckin’ much. I’m not leaving- I need you, you make me so happy, sir.” You weren’t lying to him, and that’s the most devastating part. Bo hummed and he seemed pleased by your dramatic confession and the genuine sound of your voice, flipping you with a force that rattled your bones. You were dazed, whining and confused, the back of your head slapping against the staircase and further aiding your current state, all the white dots that danced in your vision returned, and it made Bo squeeze your inner thighs like he was trying hard to maintain his own composure, the sight of you reduced to nothing but a pliant, squealing little toy to use like a fleshlight was enough to make him tail spin.

Bo sits back on his broad haunches, pushing your thighs up against your chest and effectively folding you in half, before drilling into your core at a numbing pace that has your watery, puffed up eyes rolling back into your skull and screams that ran your throat ragged in seconds, the air between you both becoming so thick that you could practically taste it when you opened your mouth to keen for him, your hands reaching up to tangle in his tee-shirt, which you wanted to pull from his skin. He used the ball of his thumb to rub tight circles onto your clit, granting you one step closer to sweet, unabashed release. When Bo brought his hand up from his assault on your clit, to slap it without mercy, you began to spasm in his grasp.

“Keep those fuckin’ eyes open,” He snapped down at you, “Look at ‘ya, filthy fuckin’ bitch. Spread wide for me, cummin’ all over the carpet. You feel that, angel? Feel ‘yerself creamin’ nice and hard ‘fer me?” You do, could feel it starting in your toes, splintering it’s way through your body, spurting at the seams. You were delirious with pleasure— could hardly manage more jumbled whimpers and pleas for his mercy, for what heaven he’d be willing to give to you in this little hell, something that would be yours to keep.

“Y-yes, sir! It feels so fucking good,” You wheezed, “I’m gonna cum, sir! I’m gonna cum!” Jaw slackened, eyes squeezed shut, toes curled up, fingers bunched up into his old work tee-shirt. Your orgasm was a violent thing, turbulent and licking up your spinal cord. You felt your sticky, hot release spill down your thighs and onto his thighs, the wet clapping of your skin meeting his own sounded akin to the sweetest music you’ve heard, the symphony of your bodies colliding with a passion that you’d never, ever known before. Bo groaned, his peak wasn’t far behind, lurking just underneath the surface, his head lulling backwards to stare up at the cracking, white water-stained ceiling. This has to be his heaven, his own place of worship nestled between your thighs.

“Baby,” Bo’s body folded over your own, lips closed on your neck, red hot kisses left in his wake. “Gonna cum, gonna fill ‘ya up. Mark ‘ya from the inside out. ‘Ya ever pull this shit on me again, I’ll slit that fuckin’ gorgeous throat ‘an bleed ‘ya out like a snuffed deer. Hear me?” When Bo kissed you again, smooth as butter, tasting blissfully of copper and cigarettes — you hooked two trembling legs around his waist and pulled him deep, your hands finding purchase in his damp curls. Curls that you wanted to root your fingers through forever, anchoring yourself to him. You loved him, wanted to burrow into his skin and stay there for good.

“I-I hear you, sir! I’m so sorry, p-please forgive me Bo, wanna be so good for you.” You hiccuped, “Wanna be your angel. Please, let me be good for you, daddy. I’m empty without you, make it feel better.” It wasn’t very often that you flipped the daddy switch, made him so hot under the collar. But when you did, you knew you had him right where you wanted him. His groans, the resounding grumble that vibrated deep in Bo’s chest, was confirmation that you had him on a wire. There’s nothing left to do but send him teetering on the edge. When your hips came up to meet his thrusts, you did exactly that, wide eyes staring up in awe as his damp, disheveled frame succumbed to bliss.

“Jus’ like that, sweet girl, fuck!” Bo clenched his teeth, brows furrowed in concentration and head lulled while spurt after spurt of his spend painted your walls in the essence of him, marking his territory, making sure you understand who you belonged to. This was his, no one else’s, not even yours. After he collapses on top of you, panting and thoroughly exhausted from the chase you put him through and from fucking you into the carpet; he placed little, gentle kisses on your chest, up to your collar bone and neck line before finding your sore lips.

“Never run from me again, angel.”

“I won’t.”

With the world waking up outside and basking you in a glow of golden hue, you smiled up at him through dark, crimson blood stained teeth and when he returned the same smile back to you— his bloody canine’s showing, you know that you weren’t lying to him.

author’s note:

how are we doing? are we okay? yeah, me either. thank you all so, so much for reading! i have a lot more of ‘ole Bo sitting in my draft’s, more to come from yours truly.

#bo sinclair #brian van holt #horror #slasher #house of wax #bo sinclair brain rot #bo sinclair x reader #gore #blood #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfiction

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krenenbaker · 8 months

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Dorm-inspired Outfits (from my Closet)

A few months ago, I put together a few things from my closet based on the different twst dorms. I posted them to Reddit, but now, they shall also have a home here on Tumblr :) But I'll also add a bit more info on the inspirations behind my use of the various pieces here, just for fun. Also, pardon the socks; I didn't bother picking shoes to go with the outfits. I'll describe what shoes I would wear with each look, though!

Also, uhh... body reveal? Before showing my cosplay (whenever it is that I finish it lol)

Heartslabyul

For this outfit, I wanted to feature the clashing patterns and fabrics of the dorm uniforms, while also incorporating an Alice in Wonderland-esque aesthetic. I used a yellow fabric belt, similar to the yellow sash of the dorm uniform, and added a scarf with a rose pattern and the same colour scheme as the rest of the outfit. I also retained my watch (which I really should have switched out for one of my analogue watches, but... oh well) and my "Save The Bees" bracelet, since it seemed to fit with the theme and I wear it on basically a daily basis, so...

I would pair this look with these white socks and my saddle oxfords.

Savanaclaw

With the Savanaclaw outfit, I wanted an active and somewhat more masc look. I tried to stay true to the warm colour scheme, and reference the leather vest of the dorm uniform using the sleeveless flannel I had. I also kept my watch and bracelet for this outfit, but I added two necklaces - one with a celtic knot pendant, and one with a piece of quartz, though if I had a tooth or bone necklace, I would have used that instead.

I would wear my brown leather boots with this outfit.

Octavinelle

This outfit is one of the closest to how I normally dress. The dress is black with lavender flowers, with a gather in the skirt on the left side, giving the heavy material more movement - it just feels "Octavinelle". I added a braided belt with a silvery buckle to give a little more definition, and a pearlescent pink and purple necklace, along with white gloves. I also wore my cream coat over my shoulders as a coat-cape, à la Azul Ashengrotto.

I would not wear socks with this, but instead stockings and my black and white pumps.

Scarabia

I wanted to follow the colour scheme and ~vibe~ of the dorm and its uniform for this Scarabia-inspired outfit. The floral skirt may seem to be an odd choice, but the deep orange of the flowers and the satin material seemed to fit with Scarabia. I also added more jewellery - multiple rings, and two necklaces, all golden in colour - to complete the look.

I would probably wear either my tan scandals, or white ankle socks and my heeled leather oxfords with this outfit.

Pomefiore

I felt like Pomefiore needed a classic, powerful look - what better way to do that than with a black pencil skirt? That, I paired with a sheer blouse with satin cuffs, and a (mostly) purple, high-necked, sleeveless knit. The orange, cream, and golden stripes in the knit also reflect the gold detailing of the Pomefiore dorm uniform.

I definitely wouldn't wear socks with this - it's another job for the black and white pumps, or maybe even my black heeled boots, depending on the vibe.

Ignihyde

Ignihyde just SCREAMED for the use of my CrankGameplays "Soft Boi" shirt. It's light blue, plus it's gamer merch - the perfect combo. Add in some black jeans, headphones, and a blue and white scarf in the pocket, and Ignihyde is complete!

I'd wear either my pink skate shoes, or maybe my brown leather boots with this one, I think.

Diasomnia

Finally, Diasomnia. I simply needed to use my green turtleneck with this one, but I knew I had to use black for the rest of the outfit. So, black trousers and a black cardigan (again, over the shoulders) were the other components I used, as well as a black braided belt - both to add a little texture, as well as a hint of silver, as is featured in the Diasomnia dorm uniform as well.

I'd wear black socks and my black heeled boots with this outfit.

And with that, we're complete! Let me know your thoughts - did I capture the spirits of the dorms in these outfits? :)

(I didn't include Ramshackle, but I could also make an outfit for that at some point, which I may do later)

#krenenbaker's :)#twisted wonderland #twst #krenenbaker's creations #I'm very happy with how some of these turned out - mainly the ones similar to my normal style #I also was wearing my binder for half of these (if you were wondering why my body shape was a bit different in some images from others).#also the Save The Bees bracelet is one of my favourite accessories #I got it at a show I went to so it has both a sentiment I agree with and fond memories attached to it too :)#I also could wear my brown leather boots with Pomefiore I guess since Rook wears freaking TIMBERLANDS (not with his dorm uniform but STILL)#(but I wouldn't. it would look weird... sorry Rook)#I also wish I would've done a different pose for Scarabia but I wanted to show off the jewellery and that was the best I could come up with #I need Vil to give me some of his modelling talent #or a lesson on how to do it maybe #I dunno #either would work #just teach me how to pose in a way that is a. somewhat comfortable and b. maybe won't make me feel so... weird looking back at the pictures #I really do relate to Azul.#anyways... thanks for looking at my outfits! and reading my tags if you got this far too ♡

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princesssmars · 1 year

Text

something new pt.II

a monet de haan x reader

the royals of constance billiard have invited you into their ranks, and the princess seems to have a motive.

contains: slighttt angst for kinda shitty parents in the start/middle. mostly fluff and me loving monet. maybe some ooc moments. the writing style changing every section. not really proof read we die like men.

a/n: writing this i realized that the group in ggrb does. not have a name. so corny ass "the royals" it is ! <3 this took me forever but im inspired by gg spotify playlists and pure gay yearning. also what the hell do you call someone with black hair.

if there's one thing you should have expected from becoming friends with the royals of constance billard, it was how quickly they got stuff done.

on your way home from the charity benefit hall, you opened your phone to see that the six enigmas you had met at the party had all followed you and already added you to a group chat. as soon as you open it you already see audrey tagging you and telling you how you're all meeting up tomorrow to go shopping, apparently. lucky you.

once you arrived at your parents townhouse, maybe one of the only things you found bearble at this point was your new home, for its gorgeous interior and exterior and your spacious room, you rushed inside and up to your room so as to avoid whatever bullshit about your behavior they're going to chastise. after cleaning yourself up and getting ready for bed, you laid down and typed ‘sounds like a plan. see u tmmrw.’

putting your phone on your nighstand to charge, you were left to stare at your ceiling and ponder over what happened tonight and asking why. why did these people gravitate to you so quickly? did they just want another rich kid to add to their posse? you knew people just used each other often in your world of the rich and powerful, but god did it seem unappealing.

as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted real friends. hell, maybe even a girlfriend.

as the thought crossed your mind, a certain brown skinned girl with ombre twists crossed your mind, making you jolt up in bed.

“no…no no no dont do that.” you whisper and smack your cheeks, trying to convince yourself that no, you didnt have a crush on probably the most beautiful girl you've ever seen. that was crazy. pure insanity.

it made no sense. you could tell the kind of person she was, the queen bee, (technically the queen bee's second hand, intriguing), the girl everyone wanted or wanted to be and she knew it.

she also seemed a bit mean, which you were normally into.

but you didnt want to get yourself hurt.

not after what happened last time.

and so you fall asleep, thinking of pretty clothes and fake smiles.

youre rudely awakened by your alarm at around eight am, set the night before so you could get ready for the day ahead. you get up from bed, struggling to not check your notifications and messages on your phone before making your way to your on suite bathroom. in there you do your usual morning routine, rinsing off your body in the shower and doing your facial routine at the sink.

once youre finished, you head over to your closet to pick out an outfit when youre phone starts ringing. you see the caller id is max, and you swipe on the green to answer. "hello? you get up ths early too?"

"nah, but i had a feeling you would be. seem like the early bird type." max's voice drawls through the phone, still deep with the effects of sleep. "are you up at the asscrack of dawn because youre excited or because youre used to it?"

you laugh slightly, flipping through your pants and your skirts. "a bit of both, actually. my parents always made me get up really early so i know i have time to do everything. but the sunrise is also pretty."

max's voice laughs through the phone. "thats a good reason, ill admit. personally i like the sunset better."

"then i guess we've come to an empasse..." your voice trails off, finally finding a suitable outfit for looking nice but also being comfy while you walk around. "im about to get dressed, should i call you back?"

"nope put me on speaker, we've got things to talk about before we go shopping today." he states. youre confused, but put the speaker on anyway, giving him the go ahead to start talking.

"alright, youve probably already guessed this because you seem smart, but we all kinddd of want something from you." his bluntness makes you giggle.

"want something? from me? i sure hope its not my money." you joke, smiling as you hear his playful scoff from the phone.

"trust me, we're covered on that front. it was really julien and monets idea to bring you into the group, which congrats for getting in at the speed of light, by the way. i wasnt expecting any new additions considering weve all been mostly best friends for years."

this was monets idea?, you think to yourself as you finally wiggle into your clothing. there was a bit of a connection last night, but you didnt think it was strong enough for someone as seemingly impassive as her to start indoctrinating you into her friend group.

"what do you mean by mostly? you all seemed close from what i saw." you question.

max sighs through the phone, telling you that you might have guessed wrong. "its...a bit complicated. ill explain more of it later. my dads are calling me for breakfast. by the way, do you want me to pick you up later? i dont mind."

"sure, i want to hear all of the group secrets on the way there, though." you joke, laughing harder when he gives a fake laugh through the phone before saying your goodbyes.

after youve gotten dressed and made sure you had everything, you head downstairs to get a quick morning snack before the drive.

after grabbing your quick bite, youre stopped in your tracks by the sight of your mother in the doorway. she's wearing sportswear and her skin is slightly sweaty, meaning she just came back from her morning run. she eyes the food in your hand and you scoff, brushing past her to the front door.

for the next few minutes you stand in front of your home, scrolling through your socials and lightly listening to music until a honk makes you jerk your head up. in front of the sidewalk sits a very nice white car, with a smiling brunette boy looking straight at you.

"hurry up! i dont wanna hear audrey badger me for being late." he yells, making you match his bright smile. you get comfortable in the front seat, already vibing with the song he has playing from his spotify and the sweet smell of his car.

"do you really use a jelly bean air freshener?"

"i needed one that fit my personality."

"ah, i was wondering why i liked you so much."

throughout the drive to the mall, you get closer and laugh more with max, showing each other your favorite songs and laughing at each others lip syncing. after a few minutes, you finally ask him the question thats been on your mind.

"what did you mean earlier when you said you all...mostly got along?"

he stares straight at the road for a few seconds, the corner of his lips quirking up. "do you still talk to the people youve known since you were little? and i mean really little-preschool age."

you think about it beofre shaking you head. because of your parents frequent moving, you didnt make any solid connections. hopefully that would change soon.

"well youre kinda lucky. it sounds great when youre young to be best friends forever but in high school people...change. it starts slowly at first but it gets more noticable. i mean, when we were kids aki was like the mediator of the group, but now hes more impassive. audrey was the mother hen but now shes more overbearing, the list goes on." he rants, his voice sounding more melancholic as he goes on. "dont get me wrong, i love my friends but...everythings changing."

you nod along as he talks about his worries, giving him someone to vent to and taking in all of the information hes telling you.

max parks and you both make your way to the entrance, and he laughs at the look on your face when he says next time you should use the subway.

once inside, the rest of your new group of "friends" come up to you both.

"yn! i hope you made it here alright, hopefully max didnt talk your ear off on the way here." aki says, standing in front of you hand in hand with audrey, who smiles at you.

"youre just soo funny, menzies. you really should pursue a career in comedy." max jokes dryly, punching his friend in the arm playfully. as they start a playful arument, audrey takes your hand and pulls you over to where her and julien were standing.

"its so nice to see you again, yn," julien greets you and takes your arm in hers, audrey taking the one on your other side, "todays gonna be so fun, i promise. monet and luna are over in gucci, but i was thinking of heading over to saks..."

"why dont we meet them in gucci? then we can all shop together..." you suggest, your voice trailing off when you catch the look max is giving you in the corner of your eye.

julien smiles, tugging you along.

you get to the store, eyeing the collection of clothing, purses, and shoes. after a few seconds of looking around, your eyes connect with monets from across the store.

luna is next to her, the noirette talking lowly while shes observing a heel in her hand. but monets eyes stay on you, humming along to whatever shes saying-

"i think this would look pretty on you, yn," audreys soft voice yanks you out of your trance, holding up a cropped coat up to your chest, observing it from all angles.

"yeah, you're right. but its still august, isnt it a little too soon for a coat?"

"it'll get cold quick." monets voice pops up from the other side of audrey, startling you a bit. "didnt you live in maine previously? i wouldve thought all they had was lobsters and snow."

"i traveled with my parents in the winter months often, so i didnt feel the cold. but there were some perks of living there. a lot less...trash."

monets eyes widen and audrey barely stifles a laugh at your comment, the former slightly glaring at the two of you. audrey composes herself quickly.

"monet is right, once it hits late september the temperature starts dropping quick. youre buying it." audrey thrusts the piece of clothing in your hand, starting to look for more in the expensive collection.

monet still stands in front of you, smiling at you with an emotion in her eyes you cant quite place. but if you had to guess, it was nothing good for you.

"what do you want from me?" your bluntness shocks her out of her stupor, the girl crossing her hands on her chest.

"why do you think i want something from you?"

"lets not act coy. i just got here and your merry little band is trying to make me feel as if ive been here for years, and i know you have something to do with it."

she continues to smile at you, tapping her manicured finger on her arm. "and just why would i do something like that? i dont even know you."

alright, this was just pissing you off. "look, im not gonna turn into one of your little pawns. so whatever dumb ass game you're playing, leave me out of it."

"oh, yn," she sighs, bringing her hand up smooth her soft hand down your face, "you're already on the board. and trust me, when the time comes for choosing, youll wanna be on our side. now, lets go shopping, hm?"

you open your mouth to rebuttal but she shuts you up with a wave of her hand, moving directly to your left to loop your arms together and continue walking through the store.

despite some hesitance brought on by your inherent suspicion and monets ominous words, you will admit you had some fun with the group at the mall and going around to see the sights of new york.

but maxs comment from the car rung in your head often, and you noticed how they all had little groups within them. monet and luna mostly stayed to themselves if they weren't getting julien picture perfect for a picture. said julien really only seemed to connect with audrey, talking to obie but his face looked...conflicted?

during your observation your eyes yet again catch on monets, who just gives you a little smile and a wave.

you had a feeling this wouldnt end well for you.

eventually the sun starts to set and conversations start to dull, with julien suggesting you all come to her place and chill and to record some stuff for her instagram. julien calls her drivers to pick you up, but because of the uneven number, someone is going to have to sit by themselv-

"join me in the second car. i wanna talk." monet whispers from behind you, causing a shiver to go down your spine at the sudden nature of it and her closeness. intrigued you oblige, crawling into the back of the suv behind her and settling in.

its quiet for a handful of seconds, only the faint noise of the city and the moving car surrounding you.

"what do your parents do?"

the question throws you off. you would have thought she had done extensive digging on your history.

"theyre in the investing business. they just look to colleges with the most promising alumni and fund their programs. guess they also invest in start up businesses. but frankly i dont care and want nothing to do with it, and im confused at why you're asking me this."

she sighs, as if debating if she wants to speak - or really if she doesnt. she closes her eyes and rubs one of her temples with her fingers before pushing what she wants to say out.

"im asking because i want you on my side. everyone treats me like im just one of juliens dumb followers and that what i do is a joke but its not. i want to actually do something and make a business for myself, thats why i push her so hard. i dont want to join my familys company and i can tell you dont either."

you nod along to her words, not going to ignore her opening up to you. "buttt what do you need me on your side for? are you going to start some kind of war or..."

"i love julien, i really do. we've known each other since before we started teething. but shes changing and becoming this...sentimental wannabe good girl and i know eventually shes gonna leave me and my management in the dust. when it happens i need something to fall back on."

"so what, you do all of this shit for me just to be your back up plan?"

"i did it because i need to trust you. and i need you to trust me." she states, looking you dead in the eyes. you can see the sincerity in her eyes, and you hope its real because if not she was a really good liar. "besides, i know alll about what happened at your last school. you may try to act like some impassive above it, all cool girl attitude, but i know we're a lot more alike than you think."

your heart stops the same time the car does. the sincerity is still there, but nows its sinister. manipulative. and if you were being honest, kinda hot.

"think about what i said. and dont mention this to the others, ok?" monet composes herself, getting out from over you when the door is opened and youre still frozen in place.

you're snapped back into reality when she grabs your hand and helps you out, pressing her shoulder to yours as you walk into the lobby of juliens building. you dont know whether to be scared or excited when she whispers in your ear again.

"it can be our first little secret."

this. took me forever. and kicked my ass. but season two is here so i rushed. id appreciate any feedback bc ik the plot right now feels messy but hope yall enjoyed anyway <333

#gossip girl reboot x reader #gossip girl x reader #gossip girl #gossip girl reboot #gossip girl revival #monet de haan x reader #monet de haan #luna la #max wolfe #audrey hope #julien calloway #obie bergmann #aki menzies #zoya lott

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babstheyaga · 7 months

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OMG I JUST SAW MY ANSWERED QUESTION AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WHAT YOU WROTE IM SQUEALLINGGG WHICH MADE ME HAVE ANOTHER IDEA! So like get this right: The reader being one of those master mind criminal idk like cat women type shit right? And she’s always one step ahead of the autobots in stealing shit and she’s like a huge problem in the city too like no one can catch her and even if they do she plans it in the first place. Like the girl can freaking take them all on in a hand to hand combat like she was raised in the league of assassins or something 😂. How would the others react to her purposely messing with the crew every time they try to get their hands on something and her flaunting it in their faces before escaping, I feel like everyone would have mixed reactions tbh but also a bit of respect to her being able to do all of this on her own, even though it’s hella annoying. I could see her being able to seduce as well, so when she almost gets caught by someone like jazz or maybe even bee and especially mirage she could play her cards right and catch them off guard to escape. Obviously it wouldn’t work on Optimus but I feel like it would work on some of them, maybe even arcee or cliffjumper idk. I imagine her having a suit kinda like black Canary obviously it’s black since she would be able to hide in the shadows and shit but it would be purposely tight on her figure 😏. I could see them calling her the watcher since she’s always watching. Idk I like the idea of bad ass reader, and the thought of her not getting caught just makes me very interested on how the autobots would react to that. Cause when she does get caught it wouldn’t be easy to break her, idk girl probably likes and is used to the torture lol. Anyway love you author your the friggen best, and I hope your doing great today!

Keep sending these prompts and this is gonna be us

“Not so tight momma's boy... We wouldn't wanna scar such a pretty lady like me, now would we?” My voice was smooth, sarcastic dare I say.

“Trust me,” The noiret said, tightening the rope around my wrists behind my back. “You are no lady.” Mirage stood up from crouching down at my kneeling body, stuck his hands in his pants pockets and stared down at me.

“Oh, come now little bro...” I mocked, “Is that really how you should talk to a type C?” I tilted my head to the side, a sly smirk on my lips that I knew would piss him off.

He scoffed and turned his head towards his brother, Jazz. “You wanna kill 'er or can I?” He asked the silver-fox.

Jazz was leaned up against the wall, fiddling with his pockets, trying to find something in it. “Nah, let OP deal with 'er... He's 'ppose to be here in 'bout 30 minutes...” He said, still rummaging through his pants.

“I can't wait till he kills this bitch...” He replied, glancing back down at me and glaring. I pouted my lips, teasing him. “I'm gonna go call Bee, see what he has to say 'bout this whole thing.” He said, turned and started to make his way out of the warehouse.

I looked over my shoulder as he exited, the loud door closing roughly and I blinked back over to the pale male, my half-lidded eyes studying him from afar.

He managed to find the thing in his pockets, a cigarette and lighter, which he was flicking it lit.

“Your brother has quite the temper on him, huh?” I asked, readjusting myself on the ground.

“Yeah just wait till you see mine...” He replied through sealed lips, lighting the tobacco.

I tried to hold down my smile. “You? The slick spy of the group? Oh, surely not...” I said, tilting my head up, trying to get him to engage with me.

He pulled the cig away from his mouth, blinking over to me from the side of his eye. “I know what ya' doin', tellin' ya' mama, it ain't workin'.” He said, cracking his neck.

“Oh yeah? What's that big daddy?” I flirted. That seemed to get on his nerves enough to make him scoff and run a hand down his face.

“Might work on my bro, trust me suga' tits, ain't workin' on me.” He pushed himself off the wall, steadying me with his arms crossed, peering over at me.

“D'aw, come now darling... I'm not even doing anything!” I toyed, straightening my back and twisting my torso back and forth tauntingly.

“Seducin' yer way outta this one ain't finna happen. Believe me.” He said, rolling his shoulders.

“Oh but baby, you misunderstand me... I'm not seducing my way out of anything. I'm right where I want to be.” I replied, leaning back and placing my bound hands on the floor, my kneeling legs spreading in just the perfect way.

“Yeah?” He raised a brow. “OP finna be here any minute. Yer ass ain't goin' no where. So where exactly you wanna be, huh?”

“Oh, with you of course. Where else?”

He scoffed again. “With me, huh? You wanna die that bad? 'Cause you sure as hell ain't gettin' 'way from me lil mama.”

“Get away from you? Oh honey, I don't need to get away from you. It's you getting away from me.” I had to admit, Jazz was rather interesting. He was suspicious and mysterious, a perfect challenge that I liked to play with. He was like a handsome toy that I found fascinating.

“Me get away from you? Yeah? Why's that?” He took a step toward me from out of the shadows, and I knew I had him on the ropes.

“Because I already have you wrapped around my finger, baby...” I taunted.

He looked down, a smile coming to his lips. He sniffed to reset himself, and began to walk towards me. I felt my back tingle in excitement, Christ, he made this too easy...

He came to my front, crouched down slowly and nudged his glasses down to the tip of his nose, his half-lidded pale eyes flicked between mine.

He brought his cigarette to his lips, not yet taking a puff. “You really think this is workin', don't you?” He asked, taking a drag.

I fluttered my eyes, leaning forward towards him. “You're pretty easy to read... I can get away any time I want.”

His hues danced around my skin, an interest in them that I couldn't quite pinpoint. He was perfectly manipulable, but maybe not as easy as I thought he was. I could tell he was toying with me, and it made it all the more attractive. I could do this all day.

Hell, I already had part of the bounds broken, so I leave at any given time... But he was making this way too fun.

He breathed in the smoke, then lifted his head and blew it into my face. I didn't blink, didn't cough, only just stared at him, my smirk grew by the tiniest of inches.

He was gentle to watch me, he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and I resisted the urge to make it more interesting.

When he spoke, I knew he liked my playing, perhaps a bit more than I thought he did...

“Try me.”

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imthepunchlord · 2 years

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Hey I know this is kind of random but what do you think of all the hero costumes (or at least the four new ones)? Also if you want you also give any changes you would make to them.

Majority range from basic/boring to just... bad. Design wise, this show isn't the most creative and honestly, that's the biggest change I'd vote for. Make the suits more actual clothes, and give them padding and armor that makes sense, ESPECIALLY to the girls. Majority of these girls are literally in skintight suits and a lot of them are 14 yo. It's pretty gross.

Ladybug herself has the worst design, the LC upgrade is an improvement, but it'd be nice to see some padding or armor to her. Same goes for Scarbella. Much better visially, but still would like some sort of armor on her as ladybugs are an armored beetle. Mister Bug probably has best design in my opinion visually and in actuality. But that's not surprising as he's a male hero and they put effort in the boys' outfits.

Chat Noir's fine. Maybe could use a little more extra detail or flare but overall he's good. Catwalker I like more but I wish he had a more tuxedo cat look to him. Lady Noire could've used a little more to her design wise, and some padding as some shots she looks like she's wearing a skintight suit.

Rena Rouge kinda hurts to look at and I like her concept design more, though that also looks like a skintight suit. At least RR has a but of a coat theme going on. A very tight one with a bigger chest to go with it...

Queen Bee I actually like design wise, but I don't like the stripes in her hair. Vesperia I like the suit itself, but everything above the shoulders I just... I can't get into it. It's just kinda awkward? I couldn't tell you why.

Jade Turtle and Carapace, very solid. I dread the day we see a girl turtle hero though...

Multimouse feels unfinished and needs more to her, the base that's there I like but she feels unfinished design wise. @zoe-oneesama update to her design I really like. Polymouse at least has a jacket with a hoodie, but there's still that tight skinsuit that you can see under it...

Minotaurox I feel like they didn't quite know what to do with Ivan as a hero. Like it's not bad but it's not great.

Tigress Purple is ok, but same issue as all the other girls. Same for Bunnyx. Ryuuko is probably the worst designed female hero and I am so sorry for Kagami and dragons. What should be easily epic and awesome is bland and uncomfortable to look at.

Body wise, Aspik is good but I hate that egghead. Viperion feels over designed? Too many details? Also, why do they not like to give reptile based miraculous tails? Turtle I can get skipping out on a tail but Snake and Dragon??? No tail??????

Pegasus needs more white in his suit or something to break it up, I thought it was just a straight up black suit with no details on it. And have his skin match with Max more.

Caprikid I actually like design wise. I just wish Nathaniel would wear his miraculous like a normal person. Cause just... wut???

That is not how you wear hairclips.

Roi Singe is solid.

Rooster Bold is also pretty good, but that design just doesn't click with Marc. It felt like they had their design down more than it matching the character they're tying it to. And I will add, the miraculous itself looks like it's ready to fall off his/their thumb.

Miss Tracker and Flairmidable both have pretty lackluster and uninspired designs.

You know, I think Pigella probably has the best design as a girl hero, drawback though is that I couldn't look at her design and tell you, "Yeah! That's a pig themed hero!" Otherwise Pigella is very cute.

#ask Punchie #ml salt #Punchie rambles

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im-smart-i-swear · 1 year

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Weirder question, but...

If FNiN took place in the HTTYD universe, what species of dragons would they have? (Alternatively, who would be which if we're talking about A.I)

felix - i feel like instead of a full-on rider, he would be more of a tinkerer/blacksmith and would focus on inventions(if somehow him and hiccup ever met they would end up talking for hours-). you know, making saddles and stuff like that! soooo he has a huge black gronckle!(yes this is an excuse to put caban here). alternatively an armorwing would propably suit him well - for obvious reasons.

net - uhhh he would want something cool and fast maybe? - so a deadly nadder or a razorwhip? im not really sure about this one though... or a changewing! since he likes petty revenge and overcomplicated plans? and also doesnt like to take responsbility? so a dragon who can turn invisible might be up his alley!(hes so funny to me i love him)

nika - okay, so we know this girl has a good hand with big dangerous animals(i can recall two seperate occasions of her vibing with a bear), and im assuming shes still an orphan here and would propably at least partially fend for herself - thus i am giving her something absolutely huge and overpowered, like a crimson goregutter or a timberjack or thyphoomerang or something. shes very emphatetic and caring, so maybe she helped a hurt dragon and it decided to start protecting her?

laura - shes definetly the best rider out of this four(horses cant be that diffrent from dragons, right?) and i bet shes good with animals - and thats why i think she should have either a razorwhip or a monstrous nightmare. shes competent and knows what shes doing!

golem golem(my sweet man. i love this guy so much) - uhhh he literally has. a body. a humanoid one at that. so shouldnt it be more fitting for him to be a regular human?? but then again hes very far from anything regular so.. hm. if we're going with dragons, definetly something big and bulky for him! a rumblethorn perhaps? and if hes human then hes just riding one.

manfred - hm. ai are so diffrent from humans in fnin that its kinda hard to assign dragons to them?? but also theyre literally people. ngl im kinda tempted to make him nets older brother/uncle here. but i also think it would be funny if he was just. a really smart terrible terror? i remember in the first(?) book he got a body and it was this small wall-e esque thingy? also i think him being small and easy to look over and underestimate fits well with how in the books the trio sometimes forgets hes there or net accidentally turns him off(imagine this extremely pissed off terrible terror stuck in the bag net carries him around in). basically hes a cat but can fly and breathe fire

konpopoz - my mind tells me hes a speed stinger. i dont know why. it doesnt even fit since hes slow and bulky?? basically hed be any dragon the riders usually find annoying or likely to cause problems. so a changewing mayhaps? since they can easily go unnoticed and have a nasty attitude! and if hes a human then i imagine hes like that old cabbage man from defenders of berk but less evil. just an asshole who hates his job.

morten - he could work well both as a dragon hunter and a dragon. something like the red death or an alpha seems fitting, but i honestly think he would work better as either a whispering/screaming death or a queen of those fire-bee dragons(i dont remember what theyre called).

thank you for the ask, coming up with all these concepts was really fun!

#ask #httyd #fnin #felix net i nika #oh shoot i spent so long thinking bout this i think its starting to turn into an actual au #i mean.... it WOULD be nice to have an excuse to draw dragons....#(<- i cant promise anything tho)#manfred as a terrible terror is really frickin funny to me

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cloudsrust · 2 years

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Omg, you drew Maxxx so well! I love that bizarre funky dude, he's my top favourite Sorrow & going through his departure was like going through a fever dream trip, also love his theme song too!

(Just saw two Maxxx asks that I had forgotten to reply to-) Thank you-! He is quite fun to draw exactly because of how funky he is, don't have to worry about natural poses lol.

And truee! The deformed bodies and twitchy.. uhh.. celebral wiring? are also quite the interesting choice for the zone- but they give off that trippy and unsettling vibe that really ties everything together! His music is also perfect (and a bop, same with Candice's of course), it kinda feels like a twisted and chaotic carnival theme with its high and lows and I'm absolutely there for it!

Honestly he could-! Well with everything that goes on in the LC/LoR universe I wouldn't be surprised if there were more drugs or addiction related abnormalities .

(Me rambling about what type of abnormality they'd be under the cut since it's a bit long)

He'd be mhh- either T-06-XX or T-01-XX (T= trauma, fear or emotion related, 06=amalgamation/abstraction, 01=humanoid, XX=should be their number but I don't have imagination for those lmao). Since he is the second-to-last boss I'd say they'd totally be a WAW risk wise- and either white (affects sanity) or black (affects both sanity and health) damage would work for them.

Prefered works mhh- maybe Attachment(which could be a trap- making the Agent "addicted" if done more than once) >Instict >Insight >Repression.

Mechanic wise I can see them being the type of abnormality that infects Agents and Employees (the "addicted" thing), like Melting Love or Queen Bee. But- he could also work as a weaker White Night, occupying a room when breached and blasting the facility/department with white/black damage every-so-often, while the "addicteds" spread even more panic running around.

Oh! His syringe might work quite well as a Gift! Maybe diminishing Fortitude and Prudence while upping Temperance and Justice (Drug overdose impacting health and sanity.. while "upgrading" work efficiency and speed.

..Me overthinking the mechanics and naming aside lol- oww I can just see them hovering in their little containment with that creepy smile </3. He'd be one of those abnormalities that I'd get in every run just 'cause they're cool to look at- like Butterflies' Funeral, Freischütz and Void Dream.

#the cloud can speak oh boi #I like the idea of Maxxx being like a parasite that uses multiple bodies- that's why I wanted to categorize 'em as a 06 eh oh #heck idk why is so fun categorizing/studying certain characters as if they were LC abnormalities #that whole part aside- I really wanna clean up those sketches I made of Maxxx #but between classes and my other brainrots (OCs and pokèmon atm <3) it's hard to find the time sobs

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art-of-manliness · 5 months

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Beyond Cinnamon and Brown Sugar: Discover Oatmeal’s Savory Side

With cold weather here, I’ve been looking for meals that warm my belly and stick to my ribs. A hot bowl of oatmeal has long been a go-to dish during the cold, dark days of winter. But if you’re like me, you’ve likely pigeon-holed oatmeal as a strictly sweet food you eat exclusively for breakfast. For most of my life, I’ve only eaten oatmeal in the morning, garnished with things like brown sugar, maple syrup, chocolate chips, and fruit. Every now and then, I’d throw in some nuts like pecans and walnuts. But mostly oatmeal was an excuse to have dessert for breakfast. I could always tell myself, “Hey! It’s oatmeal! It’s good for you! Lumps of added sugar aside, it could help with my die-ah-bee-tus!” As I was eating a bowl of oatmeal with blueberries for breakfast a few weeks ago, I got to thinking: “Maybe it’s time I bust oatmeal out of the food prison I’ve put it in. Oatmeal is a grain just like rice and wheat, and I eat other grains in both the a.m. (raisin bran) and the p.m. (pasta) and in both sweet (rice pudding) and savory (fried rice) forms. Why should oatmeal be subject to different constraints? Why should it indeed? Even though many cultures (though not all!) have been conditioned to think of oatmeal as a sweet breakfast food, doesn’t mean you can’t eat it as a savory dish for any meal of the day. I recently started experimenting with making savory oatmeal and eating it both for breakfast and for lunch and dinner. Reader, let me tell you, savory oatmeal is bomb. I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner. Not only does oatmeal taste great as a part of a savory dish, but it’s incredibly cheap, and its fiber content will help you feel fuller for longer. Oatmeal is a great way to stretch your budget and nourish your body. Below, I share some guidelines you can use to create your own savory oatmeal dishes, along with three simple recipes that my family and I have enjoyed. Your Savory Oatmeal Crib Sheet Oatmeal is pretty bland on its own, so it will take on the flavor of whatever you cook it with. Think of oatmeal as rice or pasta; it makes a great canvas for flavors. Utilizing some or all of the following elements will add delicious, savory umami to your oatmeal: Broth. Instead of using plain water, cook your oats in broth — vegetable broth, chicken/beef broth, or even bone broth. The broth will infuse the oats with savory goodness. Aromatics. A little bit of garlic, ginger, or onion can go a long way in adding depth and complexity to your savory oatmeal. Sauté these aromatics in a bit of oil or butter before adding your oats to release their flavors. Protein. Amp up the belly-filling protein content of your savory oatmeal by adding cooked bacon bits, egg, chicken, or beef. These protein-packed toppings will keep you feeling satisfied and energized throughout the day. Vegetables. Add a pop of color and nutrition to your savory oatmeal with fresh vegetables like chopped peppers, sliced avocado, or sautéed mushrooms. Take advantage of canned vegetables for an easy and cheap way to up your oatmeal’s fiber and micronutrient content. Cheese and crunchy toppings. Sprinkle some grated Parmesan, crumbled feta, or even French-fried onions on top of your savory oatmeal for a burst of flavor and texture. These toppings will add a nice crunch and richness to your dish. Seasonings. Have fun with seasonings. Black pepper and salt taste great on oatmeal. But I’ve also made some dishes with oregano, thyme, and Old Bay. Man, I love Old Bay. The addition I want to try next is putting everything bagel seasoning on a savory breakfast bowl (oatmeal, eggs, bacon, cheese). The possibilities are endless, so don’t be afraid to think outside the box. Condiments. To take your savory oatmeal to the next level, consider adding a dollop of your favorite sauce. Could be BBQ sauce or even salsa. I love putting Frank’s hot sauce on my savory oatmeal dishes. Kicks it up a notch. Bam! My Go-to Savory Oatmeal Recipes If you’re looking for some savory oatmeal recipes to get started,… http://dlvr.it/SzrfPz

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xoteajays · 7 months

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Because of surgical reasons, I can't get anymore piercings in my ears. Like I would love more ears piercings but I can't though. Actually.. I've always wanted my ears to be completely covered in piercings like in a similar way to AleXa's. But I can't. So if I get anymore piercings, then I would have to get other parts of my body pierced besides my ears.

But I did have my cartilage pierced in both ears, but it got so severely infected in one ear that I had to take it out. That healed after a while.

I do have carpenter bees, underground bees, those species of bees in and around my house. Is there such a thing as black bees? Because if black bees exist.. I don't know. But between the ending of summer, in the middle of autumn - between those seasons. There are these bugs that might be black bees (or that's what they seem like) flying around my house. But they don't sting anyone, if they are bees. They just fly.

I've been trying to figure out what species of insects they are.

Rocky's opened minded toward just about every woman he may have in interest in. I could see Cobra being attracted to clumsy girls, and it might be possible that Hiroto or Masaki could be attracted to clumsy girls too. And Hyuga and Murayama would tease the clumsy girl if the boys were attracted to that type of girl. But I would think it's funny if a Rude Boy was attracted to clumsy girls because they move around so fluently by parkouring around. That might just be my opinion though.

That's the only reason why they prefer buffet restaurants. Because.. If they eat a lot of food, they can eat as much food for very lower prices. At least that's how most buffet restaurants are. They eat too much.

Like everyone says about my diet, I 'eat like a bird'. So I've never really had a big appetite at all. But I'll just eat whenever I'm hungry though.. Could be one big meal a day, to a few small meals - not including any snacks. I would say that it actually depends on how I am that day. But if it's a meal that I've been really craving, then I'll just try eating what I can of that meal. But, generally speaking, I never eat enough food like people say I should. I'm alive. I've survived. So I don't need to eat a lot though. People commenting about my eating habits just annoys me.

Everyone I know personally, just about everyone I know has their own opinions about me being a vegetarian. So I get mixed reactions about it. And it does get really annoying hearing those negative comments.

But if it wasn't already complicated being a vegetarian. I'm so autistic about my sensory inputs.. Including foods. The taste, smell, texture is part of the reason for my inputs. So I'm too picky about certain foods.

And I also don't know how to cook either.

I always like the opposites attract my balancing each other out... Just like how Gun-woo and Woo-jin are for one example. I love these boys.

I might want bromance for my characters. At least for any characters, I just don't know which characters. I mean this generally speaking.

Well.. Maybe. Obviously Gun-woo used that metallic grates to protect himself from being stab, so that was almost like a shield to an extent.

But maybe Gun's just a fair fighter for the most part. Not that Jin isn't a fair fighter.. I don't blame Jin for using weapons to defend himself - especially in situations where they're outnumbered. But if Gun throws weapons away, not only would that mean less severe injures (like how they were stabbed). But it's a fair fight if you only use your hands too.

That's what I think about why Gun-woo throws weapons away.

Slack?

There are just only a few period series that I have enjoyed.. Like Black Sails, Peaky Blinders - definitely those shows. There may be more but I can't think of any at the moment. Maybe some period movies? But I only enjoyed some period shows and movies though. Not all the time.

My mind is scattered right now.

You can spoil me.. I'm not someone who would complain about being spoiled. Because I'm an impatient person anyway. So you can tell me.

there are some species of fully black carpenter bees, so it could be them. female xylocopa sonorina are dark coloured and can be found in america, females have stingers but are usually pretty docile. xylocopa micans and xylocopa californica are another couple species of dark coloured carpenter bees in america.

i imagine rocky and cobra would let the girl hold their arm/elbow while they walk, so she has something to steady herself on. masaki would probably think it’s cute (and i imagine he’s a lil clumsy himself); hiroto would pretend to be frustrated by it but secretly think it’s cute and watch out for her to make sure she doesn’t trip, always prepared to catch her. hyuga would be a lil meaner in his teasing (he means it playfully but he is kinda mean); murayama’s nicer/more funny about it. takeshi is watching her being clumsy and chuckling about it a bit, he’s trying to help her be less bumbling but it’s probably not going well. he probably doesn’t have to deal with a lot of clumsy people in nameless, what with all the free runners and parkour doers in rude.

they’re gonna eat out the entire buffet. definitely not going to be leftovers by the time they’re done. they’re piling their plates high and - even if it looks impossible for one person to finish - their totally clearing their dishes. they’re beefy, exercising boys, eating their body weight in food and working it off the next day.

i didn’t have much of an appetite before my medication and it just got worse after i started taking it. i used to only eat one or two meals a day. now i just eat because i have to, like ‘oh it’s x time, have to eat breakfast/lunch’ instead of actually eating because i’m hungry. it really annoys my parents for some reason idk why.

i know how to cook a little. nothing exemplary or amazing, but i’m decent enough. i cannot bake tho, i’m a horrible baker even with boxed cake mixes.

i don’t know who i’m shipping bi with yet. i was thinking both gun and jin, but i’m still tossing up ideas. da min and bi have a more sibling relationship, including the bickering; they’re a touch argumentative because they’re pretty different; also they have dirt on each other because they grew up together and went to the same high school.

i think jin is a little more defensive after getting stabbed, since being overwhelmed and unfocused the last time landed him in hospital and almost dead. i think it’s a little noticeable when he fought in beom on the ship, like comparing that fight to when he and gun fought him at the bookstore place.

slack. it’s an aussie slang thing, for being like ‘lazy’.

i’m more of a fan of fantasy stuff when it comes to period series. stuff situated more in real life i’m not a big fan of. idk. some stuff i’ll binge and other stuff i’ll just go ‘ehhh’ about and not watch.

not a whole lot to spoil in the first episode. lot of character set up. cop and his wife surprisingly didn’t have a lot of scenes. it was more the backstory of wi ha joon’s character. it was pretty entertaining thus far tho. lotta good fight scenes. wi ha joon looking fine as hell, he’s also got the villainous dead-behind-the-eyes thing downpat.

like every character smoked tho and i just …… please stop. i get it, it’s the mid-90s, but please. icky.

#tj answers #long post //#long post anon

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