#right Jello? ha ha :D right?

[pianokantzart]

"That should do it! It’s got everything you could ask for: simple to remove, easy to clean, comfortable, slip-free, snow-friendly, waterproof, and best of all…. well, just give that foot a little stomp and watch the magic!" Something I drew regarding @jell-o101's current comic, in which King Penguin is in desperate need of a new foot. Did Luigi use a toddler's light-up shoe for the base materials? Maybe. But it's the result that matters.

#my art #King Penguin #Lumalee #Luigi #Super Mario Brothers #Boy oh boy I can't wait for everyone to survive and discuss how their therapy is going over a game of cards #right Jello? ha ha :D right? #piano can art

[phantomposting]

My mind is jello please excuse spelling errors and grammar mistakes I haven't slept much lately due to issues with insomnia. Either way I hope you guys have been enjoying the silly little writing prompts I make :D I like day dreaming when I can't fall asleep. Sorry in advance this one is a bit long.

Trigger Warning: injury, dissection/vivisection

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

This is another Danny and Damian are twins au. In this AU we got the there can only be one heir thing and Damian is the one to come out on top due to how protective Danny is of his sibling. So Danny ends up in Illinois and goes down the path to becoming Phantom.

Eventually Danny's parent's discover he's Phantom and try to study and dissected him and Danny has to go on the run deeply injured physically and emotionally. His running leads to him being homeless and hiding in Gotham. He's super paranoid and trusts nobody trying to keep his distance from people so he hopefully doesn't get caught and dissected molecule by molecule.

One day Alfred is out grocery shopping when he spots the terrified injured teen in an alleyway and it's the weirdest thing. This kid looks almost exactly like Damian except his eyes are an icy blue and the poor kid is skin and bone. He looks to be about the same age as him aswell.

Alfred tries to offer the injured child some help but the kid vanishes. The whole situation is baffling but he was never one to give up that easily and he can absolutely tell the kid is in a dire situation and really needs help. So he decides the best course of action is to take it slow and try to slowly earn the kid's trust.

Every day Alfred goes "shopping" he goes to the grocery store and leaves a meal and supplies for the kid. He can't really tell the others especially Bruce due to how paranoid the bats can be. All signs point to possible league activity but Alfred can tell the kid isn’t dangerous just terrified. If he had to guess he would guess the kid was going to be used in some league plans but managed to escape. He knows Bruce would be far too harsh with the kid and that's the last thing someone so terrified needs right now.

So Alfred's secret meetings with the kid continues slowly gaining the kid's trust more and more until eventually he gets the kid to talk to him. He learns Danny's name and Danny thanks him for the help and kindness. Everyone can see Alfred is acting a little cheerier after that and nobody knows why. They won't really question it though the man is baking cookies more than he used to and well his cookies are worth staying in the dark for.

One day though Danny doesn't show up to their meeting. Alfred begins to worry something feels wrong. He decides to contact Barbra and ask her for help locating the child. He trusts her to not overreact and he knows she's the best person for the task.

Barbra can absolutely see why Alfred kept this a secret once she locates Danny. This kid's resemblance to Damian is scary the only thing that makes her believe this might possibly not be a clone is the ice blue eyes. Locating Danny reveals he's been heavily injured and Alfred rushes out to aid him.

Upon arrival he realizes this is a bit more than he himself can manage especially in some dirty Alleyway and with the possible league ties he knows he can't take the kid to the hospital so he has to give in and tell Bruce about the situation. Of course at first he just starts with a call saying to bring in Dr. Thompkins which makes Bruce anxious as hell.

Danny is brought into the batcave out cold and Bruce of course is his paranoid self. The rest of the family is quite curious about the odd child that Alfred brought in and is hovering around. Damian doesn't understand why the others are so nosy that is until he catches a glimpse of the kid and realizes it's his dead twin brother.

Damian has his guard up majorly after that. The doctor helps Danny and the Y shaped wound from his run in with his parents is discovered and its not doing so great so this kiddo is gonna need a lot of bed rest aside from the odd burns.

Turns out Danny had a run in with the GiW they located him in gotham and he barely escaped. He's out for a hot minute tho so that leaves all the family to speculate. Bruce is being super paranoid and a bit hostile with the kid but Alfred vehemently defends him.

Damian is deeply conflicted he doesn't feel his brother could possibly want to hurt him. He knows how protective Danyal had been. He knows Danyal gave his life to make sure he would live on, but there's no way Danyal can be alive without the League's involvement. Damian refuses to leave Danyal's side until he knows for sure what is going on, of things will be safe, and if Danyal will be alright.

This leads Bruce to question him and thats when everyone discovers Damian and Danyal are in fact twins. Bruce is heartbroken he never even got to know about his 2nd son and this stirs conflict between Damian and Bruce. This also makes Bruce want to believe that Danny is safe and would hopefully join the family, but this also makes him far more anxious about league involvement and makes him raise his guard.

Eventually Danny wakes up and is forced to explain things though he tries to leave the half ghost stuff out and everyone can see he's hiding something making paranoia grow within the batfam members but everyone also tries to give Danny a chance. It could just be processing trauma after all and if he was really after something he would have made a move by now right? The only one fully trusting of Danny is Alfred whom has become rather close with the child. Alfred is happy to have another grandchild to bond with.

Eventually Damian forces the whole truth out of Danny since Danny's ghostly obsession makes him desperate for family and he deeply doesn't want to risk losing Damian again. Damian promises to help keep Danny's secret but tries to reassure him that it's okay to share it with Bruce and that they'll help keep him safe but Danny's fears make it very hard for him to do so.

Eventually the truth forcibly comes out when the GiW comes knocking down the front door for Danny. Danny runs for it absolutely terrified and Alfred threatens them with a gun. We all know Alfred isn't afraid to kill in order to protect his family. Eventually the bats are able to sneak in and knock the agents out but Danny is missing.

The bats bring the Agents to the cave and interrogate them and Damian goes looking for his brother. The Agents tell the bats Danny's secret and demand they hand over the "Ecto Scum" the Bat's are pissed with the agents and now understand why Danny was so secretive.

Damian eventually locates Danny and is able to comfort him and get him to come back to the manor with him. The family doesn't tell him they know his secret. He gets to share it when he feels safe enough to. They do however work hard and get the anti ecto acts repealed.

Eventually Danny gets adopted, the Fenton's go to jail, and Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are reunited with Danny and Danny gets to have a healthy life in Gotham with his new found family. Eventually becoming a Gotham vigilante and getting back on track with things in school. Basically everyone gets a happy ending :D

#danny phantom #dp x dc #batman crossover #dp au #writing prompt #danny and damian are twins #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #i just want to see more AUs with Alfred in them especially where Alfred is being a good grandpa/guardian #sorry im soupy

[zanniscaramouche]

SNIPPET - CHERRY

I've been writing sooo much the past few days, this fic has just completely captivated me. Here's a whole scene because I'm just super excited to share but I still have so much more to write :') this is a/b/o OT5 ~ No one really tagged me this time around but I'd love to see what people are up to if you wanna share a snippet @kingsofeverything @ladyaj-13 @allwaswell16 @hellolovers13 @red-pandaaa @lululawrence @louandhazaf @sadaveniren @helloamhere (me realising I don't even know who's writing anymore oops) also this is for you darling @justanothershadeofblue since you were so curious about the drop ;)

.

.

“Harry said double dialling was a bad look but who can blame me for wanting to hear your voice,” Niall purred as soon as the line connected. The cheeky smile he was wearing could be heard in his suggestive lilt. The side of Louis's neck throbbed. He closed his eyes to it, not sure if he wanted to stop or savour the bright ache. 

“Niall,” he tried, and it came out like a whimper clouded with confusion, his thoughts shutting down into base instincts. Niall’s mark was on his neck. Niall would know what to do. Niall would fix this. 

“What’s wrong?” Niall’s voice went cold, every trace of teasing gone. 

He sounded angry. Louis didn’t want him to be angry. He wanted him here. Because- because he was-

“D- drop- ping.” The word a three part stutter through clenched teeth. 

Niall said something like a swear word, then something else, but it all became noise Louis couldn’t follow. All he could think about was the burning on his neck and the need to go home. Not this impersonal place, not his drafty flat, but somewhere safe and warm and-

“Omega,” a new voice crooned through the speaker. It was smooth and gentle, like a hand stroking over his spine. 

“Please.” The word slipped from Louis's lips before he knew what he was asking for. Anything, he figured. Anything the voice was willing to give him. 

The voice rumbled in a low hum and it washed over Louis like a hot bath, warming him from head to curling toes. “You’re okay, luv, I’m right here with you. Tell me where we are.” 

“Kitchen floor.” 

“Your kitchen?” Louis hummed in assent.  “All right, let’s get you somewhere better, hmm? Put me on speaker. Tell me when it’s done.”

He forced his fingers to move. “Done.” 

“Put the phone in your hand. Is it done?” 

Louis clutched it with a dying man’s sweaty palm. “Done.” 

“Now I want you to get on your knees- Don’t stand, we don’t want you falling. Hands and knees, let’s go.” 

Louis shook his head in denial even as he rolled onto his stomach and slowly, ever so slowly, got his jello limbs to push up. He immediately shifted his weight backwards to his heels like a praying man looking for salvation with his forehead pressed to the cool laminate. 

Trembling from exertion he knew he had to tell Alpha it was done, he had to follow the rules. “D-done.” 

“Good job, Louis. Now go to the sofa.”

A whine peeled from him. Impossible. There was no way he could manage it, he- 

“C’mon, I know you can be good for me.” 

“Trying,” he promised immediately. 

He could be good, he knew how to be good. His muscles tensed, and painstakingly slow he started moving, one shuffle at a time, towards the sofa he could see across the open-plan room. 

It could have taken him hours to cross the floor, all he knew was the constant battle against his shaking limbs and the need to do what Alpha told him. By the time he got to the overstuffed sofa still smelling of the store it was from, he was too tired to protest rolling into it with one last final push to get onto the cushions. He burrowed into the crease of them. 

He was panting hot breath into the narrow space. Eyes watering. If he were clear headed, he’d have been embarrassed. As it were, he was sunk so low he didn’t have the energy to cry propper. 

“Louis, tell me you made it,” said the angel in the phone. 

“Made it,” he whispered, because he knew how to listen, he did. 

“Good boy, Louis. Now stay where I put you.” The world was black. Alpha put him here. Alpha made him safe. 

The silence was too big, it let the fear creep in, fear that despite what Alpha said, Louis hadn’t been good enough.

The world fell away with the urgency of free-fall. His body tensed and curled into the tightest ball it could, hunching into itself with gripping terror that he’d been left alone, falling in the dark. 

He gasped a wet, ragged cry. “Don’t-!” 

“I’m right here,” Alpha crooned. And he was, his voice spun out with words that became a melodious thread, and it wove into a blanket large enough to swallow Louis whole. 

His mind went black.

#zanni writes #cherry #sunday snippet #a/b/o

[criesinmultifandommess]

The DSMP Nonhumans not...acting human

I just have too many thoughts

so what if I searched up animal facts leave me alone

Ant

likes to bask in the sun

don't touch his tail unless you get permission

Sam

meditates a lot to avoid "exploding" (edit: ok past me just say you saw someone make art about this and stole it /hj)

used to hiss as a kid when he made eye contact with strangers

Bad

Nocturnal but conditioned himself to be diurnal

At first most people are put off by his appearance but then they hear his voice and are like ""??????"

Puffy

hates having to brush her hair

goes through so many brushes

if she hasn't had a haircut in a while, her hair will get super heavy

Puffy making clothes from her wool and giving them to friends

takes good care of her horns

ewes form such deep bonds with their lambs so that when they wander too far, the ewe bleats and the lamb comes back; so imagine Puffy calling for the DSMP kids and all of them perk up

Foolish

constantly in motion, very rare to just see him relaxing

when his teeth falls out, he gives them to people he likes (he has to explain to people that shark teeth fall out constantly, he's fine)

his smile is a little scary to those who don't know that he's a big sharky sweetheart

Fundy

sometimes can be found sleeping in a tree

screams at the most inappropriate times

when he was younger, Wilbur would sometimes catch his son up late at night climbing stuff

hates loud noises because of sensitive ears

foxes are born deaf and blind, which worried Wil until about two weeks after he was born when he finally opened his eyes and started responding to sounds

Phil

Techno will find him preening occasionally

if precious ores or shiny things in general go missing, stop by Phil's first and ask him about it; if it's not him, then it's probably one of his crows that stole it

Ranboo

sometimes will just go outside and stand in grass, staring into the distance

Skeppy

cool to the touch

uses a diamond file to dull his own sharp edges

it doesn't hurt when a small part of him chips off

cannot be hurt by anything less than a diamond tool, which is kind of useless considering everyone has netherite but anyway

Slimesicle

Jello boy :D

Techno

will snort at random times and he hates it

did you know pigs can't sweat and can handle cold temperatures? so imagine him training with Phil and Phil is dying and shedding layers while Techno is absolutely fine

because he can't sweat, Techno has to roll in dirt or something to cool down fksdgj

Phil: what are you doing..?

Techno, covered in dirt after training: nothing

Pigs can run a mile in seven minutes but have shit eyesight so glasses Techno can be absolutely canon

lmao the rest of him is super fit but everything further than two feet from him is blurry

baby pigs are so small but get twice as big in a week, now I'm just imagining chonky baby Techno holy shit help

Tubbo

everyone who says Tubbo headbutts as a sign of affection is absolutely right, I love it

will bleat whenever something mildly inconveniences him

will also bleat when he means to swear (ie: "you motherbleat")

e

#rp #dsmp #dream smp #awesamdude #badboyhalo #captain puffy #foolish gamers #fundy dsmp #philza dsmp #ranboo dsmp #skeppy #slimecicle #technoblade #tubbo dsmp

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Twitterpated Brat [17]

TW/// smut!!! :D

__

Ash throws a cold, soggy fry into her mouth, stumbling around with her arm linked through Larry's. The two look like they're about to start line-dancing through Caesar's Palace. They kick their legs up with each step, giggling about nothing and everything all at the same time.

And that leaves Todd, Sal, and me to scramble around and try to cover their tracks.

Between the two of them, Larry and Ash managed to kill all three dozen jello shots. When you slap those on top of the giant daiquiris they both drank earlier, and then the screwdrivers they grabbed somewhere on the way back to the hotel-- they're pretty sloshed. 

"Let's take the stairs," Ash gasps, squeezing Larry's toned arm. She points up at the spiral staircase that she and I climbed just two days ago. 

"This is why I love you," Larry whispers, leaning toward the woman with his best, award-winning smile. In reality, he looks deeply pained... but he's trying, I guess. "You have the best ideas," he praises, booping Ash's nose with his index finger.

Ash scrunches her nose and closes her eyes, pushing her face closer to emo buff daddy.

"Yea," Sal says nonchalantly from beside me. I glance over at him-- his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his black cargo pants, cerulean gaze focused on our mutual friends milling about in front of us. "So that's what we're not gonna do," he continues, shifting his stance and tilting his head. "It's time to head up to our room."

For once, I'm inclined to agree with him. Have pigs started flying? Did Sal miraculously become a nice person in some alternate universe? The world is spinning off its axis.

Ash turns her head over her shoulder, her hair slapping Larry in the face. She's wearing a pretty pout, eyebrows furrowed and lips puckered in disappointment. "But I want to go gamble and walk around. Larry wants to, too. Right, Lar?"

When she looks back at Larry, he's too busy pulling strands of Ash's hair out of his mouth to even realize he's been brought into the conversation.

Sal and Todd simultaneously sigh.

"Do they... do this often?" I ask no one in particular, staring at the pair that start bickering. It's kind of wholesome, actually. Ash is fussing at Larry for not moving out of the way when her hair swung around and Larry's just telling her about how pretty and soft each little strand is.

Todd casts me a glance. "Every time we go out somewhere. Every single time." He bites into his cheek, turning his attention back to Larry and Ash to keep an eye on them. "Sal and I have to parent them. We're just lucky that they somehow have some common sense packed into their brains even when they're drunk."

"Larry is even more of an issue when he has alcohol in his system though," Sal murmurs, adding on to Todd's overview of drunk nights with The Faces. "His actions are already questionable when he's sober, but when he's drunk, there's nothing holding him back."

Yea, I watched him decimate the entirety of today's photoshoot so I have no doubt that he's capable of some pretty bad things when the consequences don't matter. 

Wincing, I nod subtly. Maybe letting Ash and Larry wander around, even with the three of us watching them, isn't such a great idea. This wouldn't be a good look for them online, especially if they would end up getting involved in some risky (cough, illegal) business.

"Hey, Larry," Ash whispers loudly. "Do you still have weed? Or like... something better?"

"Hell yea, I do!" Larry chirps back to the beauty, squeezing her arm closer to him. "We're in Vegas, baby, it's time to live it up!"

I dip my head down, pursing my lips. Todd flinches and Sal jumps into action, walking up to the two and grabbing their arms. It's definitely time to bring them up to the room. "Hey," Sal snaps, but ultimately lowers his voice after checking to see if anyone was watching us. "Let's not do this right now. Come on, you two can do whatever the fuck you want in our room, but not here."

Watching Sal take on the authoritative role for Ash and Larry is... something. He's obviously worried for them, trying to keep their reputations intact. He's handling them with care too, tactfully gaining their attention with physical touch. Keeping eye contact while he talks to them. He really must do this often.

We somehow manage to convince Ash and Larry to get into the elevators. I think what really got them to comply was our promise to let them be once we finally get to the suite. Right now, they're planning this slumber party. Where they're going to do it-- I have no idea. But Todd and I are carrying everyone's leftover food and clothes. Sal has a good grip on both of our drunk friends, his pale fingertips digging into their skin. 

Poor little Sally Face does not seem impressed. 

I don't really have an opinion on the current matter. Ash and Larry just want to have fun, but I can also understand why its stressful for Sal and Todd. Having to take care of them when they can't do it themselves. They're the designated dads. Not drivers-- dads.

Our ride up to the suite doesn't take too long and we don't run into many people, thankfully. I guess since it's evening, everyone's either in bed or getting lit in the casinos. No issue there. Makes things much easier for us.

By the time we burst through the doors of our suite, Ash has tears running down her face and Larry's a giggly-gaggly mess. They're on two opposite ends of the drunk spectrum. Ash is reminiscing on her past and Larry's just vibing.

I let out a quiet groan when I finally put the bags of leftover food and clothing down on the dining table. Todd's right next to me, pulling boxes from the plastic bags. 

"Help Sally," he says, opening one of the boxes to see what's inside. "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" I ask, brows furrowing as I take a hesitant step away. Putting me and Sal together with a task to complete isn't exactly the best idea to exist.

Todd just hums, focused on his job. Okay then, that's fine. I'll just help Ash get ready for bed and Sal can take Larry to their room. It's not like I have to be stuck with the sexual bane of my existence.

Still, as I walk over to where Sal has corralled our friends into one section of the couch, I feel this nauseating sense of destruction slowly climbing up my spine. It's like a knife in the back, utter betrayal. It's a bit humorous given that I'm the one with the own knife to my back. I chose this. 

Had I just never created this online persona, Sal and I never would have become this. The topic of y/n would have died with that one Youtube video. Nothing would have come of it-- I would be back in LA going to work and paying bills like I always have. 

I don't think I regret making this decision, I just think I should have gone about this differently. Of course, I don't regret it-- just the thought of getting a second alone with Sal fills me with a kind of giddiness I've never experienced. But the fact that I'm still stuck arguing with this man constantly makes it all seem... not so worth it sometimes.

Ash suddenly looks up at me with her watery green eyes and I find that my depressing internal monologue is replaced with mind-numbing love almost instantly. 

Things with Sal are weird and they kind of suck, but this was worth it. If I didn't start streaming, Ash and I would have gone much longer without seeing each other. And she's someone that will always be worth any struggle of mine.

"I don't feel good," Ash mumbles to me, her words slurred and her arms wrapped around her tummy. 

I gulp. Okay, so that's not too good. I should have expected it too. 

I grab onto Ash's wrists carefully. "I know, honey," I tell her softly, looking into those forest green eyes of hers. She's on the brink of tears. "Look, let's go to the bathroom. We'll sit in there for a while until you feel better." I try to keep my voice as light and comforting as possible. Feeling sick while you're drunk alters the mood so quickly and it sucks. All the freedom and happiness gets replaced by shackling anxiety and fear in a moment's notice.

"No," Ash yanks her hands away from me and curls in on herself. I glance at Sal who's watching the ordeal, sitting between Ash and his step-brother with his hand on Larry's back, trying to get him to sit up. And poor Larry looks like he's just about to fall asleep right here. "I don't want to throw up. I really don't wanna," Ash speaks again, pulling my attention away from our one-man audience.

I frown at my friend. Poor thing, I know that fear. 

Instead of trying to force her to stand up, I scoot in beside Sal. It's not ideal, but I don't really care. If he has a problem with my thighs squished against his, which I doubt he does, he can just move.

I wrap my arm around Ash and pull her into my side. Her head plops onto my shoulder, a soft whimper leaving her lips the moment we touch. "I didn't say anything about throwing up, sweetheart," I coo, setting my head on top of hers. I run my hand over her hair, gently threading my fingers through her slightly tangled hair. "We can just go sit in there until you feel better. And if you do end up feeling so bad that you have to use the bathroom, we'll already be there. You can take a shower if you want."

She's quiet for a moment. I sit there, staring ahead at Todd who's opening his laptop on the dining table. At the same time, Sal sighs softly and uses his hip to forcefully push himself away from me and closer to Larry. It takes quite a lot to not roll my eyes.

One second he wants to fuck me, or something akin to that, and the next moment I'm carrying the bubonic plague, measles, and various other diseases. This guy needs to pick a struggle and go with it.

I feel Ash's head move up and down against my shoulder, so I glance down at her and frown at her quivering bottom lip. Sweet thing. I know she's just drunk, but seeing her so upset and feeling sick really pulls at my heartstrings.

"C'mon then," I murmur, rubbing my hand over her back before slowly standing up. Ash struggles to follow me, so I grab onto her elbows and shoulder most of her weight with a grunt. 

With her tall stature, the force of her falling into me makes me stumble a bit. I blink through my struggle and keep a good grip on her, looking up at her as she purses her lips and wraps her arms around my shoulders. Okay, she's up. Now we just have to take the short walk to the restroom.

I tilt my head back down, making quick eye contact with Sal. He's bearing dead eyes and that forever numb-projecting prosthetic. But our gazes turn opposite ways in a moments notice. Not like I really care to begin with. I'm more worried about Ash than anything else.

Ash drags her feet to the bathroom, her arms latched around my neck as she voices unintelligible pleas to help her feel better. I feel like my heart is about to snap in two. It's hard to remind myself that she's okay when she seems so miserable like this.

After a couple seconds, I gently kick the bathroom door open and flick on the light. My eyes squint against the sudden brightness, but I still lead Ash into the room and shut the door behind us. 

Sighing, I help lower Ash to the floor. Her legs are spread out in front of her and her pretty head is leaned against the wall behind her. "I feel so icky, Vi," she mumbles, the words slurred as they tumble from her lips. 

I shrug halfheartedly. "At least 'Vi' is a default now," I whisper to myself. I'd have been fucked hours ago if she hadn't been calling me Vi all this time. "I know you feel yucky, love," I tell her, my voice a little louder for her to hear. I squat down in front of her, running a finger over her forehead to push a strand of hair away from her face. 

Ash's vibrant green eyes open to glance over my face quickly, then they close again as a soft, pained moan falls from her pale lips. In fact, her entire face is a bit paler than it was moments ago.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. She needs to be closer to the toilet. 

I gently grab onto her dainty hand and pull her over to the toilet, squatting beside her again. "Tell me if you feel sick, Ash," I say, pushing her hair behind her ears again. "You might feel better if you get it out." 

She groans again, but her arms grab onto the back of the toilet almost instinctually. "I know, but it sucks so much," Ash admits. 

I pinch my lips together, smiling tightly at her. "Trust me, I know," I reply, moving to stand behind her. I can't do much for her right now. She can't take any medicine with alcohol still in her system and I don't want to leave her to get a bottle of water. I'd hate to not be here for her if she does get sick. So I do the only thing I can do and gather her hair into my hands. I pull a ponytail from my wrist with the intention of wrapping it around her hair, but she cuts me off.

"Play with my hair," Ash whispers, head lolling to the side. 

I smile a bit at that and let the band fall onto my wrist again. So Ash and I sit in silence while I run my fingers through her hair. I braid it, then undo it, twist it around my hands, then braid it again. It's a back and forth motion in loud quietude. But only for a few minutes.

The bathroom door flies open, the wood hitting the wall with a deja vu-like thunk. I can almost hear my dad running through the house to check out what happened in my memories. 

Mine and Ash's heads both snap to observe whatever the hell is happening, but all I get to see is a blur of blue and brown. I hear the squeaking of quick footsteps, and then "Bathtub, bathtub, tub!"

My eyebrows scrunch together as I assess the situation. Not Larry too...

I swivel my head around like an owl to look at the tub just in time to watch Larry drunkenly dive into it like it's some kind of pool. Then the sickening sound of vomiting follows immediately after.

I suck in a breath, turning my gaze up to Sal. He's leaning over the ledge of the bathtub, his hands holding Larry's long hair away from his face.

"Oh, fuck," Ash groans, her voice shaky. My attention leaves Sal quickly upon hearing the inconspicuous alert she gives me. I gather her hair in my hands again and rub her back as she mimics Larry. 

It's a mess and it sucks for all four of us.

After a couple minutes of what feels like a never-ending rendition of The Exorcist-style vomiting, but in double, both Larry and Ash are finally in the hard relaxation phase of their drunkenness. And hopefully it'll stay this way.

I sigh to myself, feeling relieved now that the worst part of this is over.

Ash is moaning and groaning about how gross she feels, and about how her teeth feel like fresh cement. Sal just leapt to his feet and bolted out of the bathroom, likely to get something for Larry. 

"Here," I murmur to my friend, helping her to her feet. My hands are gently pushing on her arms, giving her some leverage to stand. She and I stumble over to the counter in the bathroom and I start looking for necessities. Because, oh, Ash, I understand. "What color is your toothbrush?" I ask her.

"Purple," she sighs. "For VioletViolence."

I blink, my gaze cutting to my friend who smiles gently. I can't help the smile that grows on my face either, or the way my cheeks warm up a bit.

"You're so silly," I giggle, opening up a drawer where... apparently all members of The Faces keep their toothbrushes? I just pack mine up in my suitcase every night. I guess they feel like family. 

But I find the purple toothbrush pretty easily. It's glittery and a deep, dark purple. Just my style, in fact. 

I put a bit of toothpaste onto the bristles, wet it (because what psychopath doesn't wet the toothbrush before brushing?) and then turn to my friend. "Open up," I chirp. "I'm playing dentist today."

Ash frowns at me. "But I hate the dentist," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. "And what if I throw up on you?" 

"Then I'll take a shower," I reply with a tilt of my head, trying to ease her worries. She seems to think of everything while drunk. Who stresses when they're drunk?-- well, Ash does, apparently.

At that moment, Sal walks into the bathroom again. He has a frantic, exhausted look in his bright blue eyes when they meet mine. For a moment, I'm wondering why he's even acknowledging me, but then he holds out a hand, gesturing to me. I narrow my eyes then look down, noting the bottle of cold water in his grip.

"For Ash," he says quietly, pushing the bottle closer to me.

"Oh." I snap myself out of my confused state and take the bottle from him, nodding. "Thanks."

I get nothing in response, but I expected as much. Sal simply turns his head back to poor Larry who's sitting on the edge of the bathtub and rushes over to give him some water.

The bathroom actually smells horrid, but I power through just like the other three people in the room are doing. Sal's getting Larry ready for bed and I'm doing the same with Ash. Both of us silently and simultaneously prep our friends for a good night's sleep. Hopefully. Even though I know they're both going to wake up with the worst case of acid reflux known to man-- headaches and body aches too. But they'll be fine.

It doesn't take me long to brush Ash's teeth. The time consuming part was trying to stop her from biting down on the toothbrush-- and my fingers.

At long last, which is only five minutes later, I rinse Ash's toothbrush and hand her the bottle of water that Sal so graciously brought. 

"I'm going to go grab some clothes for you, 'kay?" I inform Ash, putting her toothbrush back into the  drawer near the sink. I help move her over to sit on the floor so Larry can brush his teeth or use some mouthwash-- I don't know. Something.

Ash sleepily grumbles in acknowledgement of my statement. I'll just take that as an 'okay.'

I grab onto the doorknob with the intention of slipping out then quickly slipping back in, but Sal calls to me.

I pause, turning my head over my shoulder to look at him. He's holding Larry up with one arm and digging in the same drawer I just returned Ash's toothbrush to with the other. He glances up at me, hair falling into his eyes and forming a halo around his forever expressionless prosthetic. "Can you get Larry some clothes too?" He asks, looking down at the drawer again. "He's sleeping farthest from the door. Stay away from my shit," he tacks on.

I roll my eyes. Typical Sal behavior. But I reply with a quick, "Sure." It's not about Sal and I fighting right now, it's about making sure that our mutual friends are safe and comfortable.

My heart beats a little faster when I slip out of the bathroom and quickly grab a change of clothes for Ash in our shared room. She already had her pajamas laid out and ready to go, so I didn't even have to go looking. But walking to Sal and Larry's room puts me on edge. Something about being in a place that Sal would never even allow me to get a glimpse of in any other situation is both invigorating and terrifying. Imagine I still pick the wrong bed by accident? Suppose I knock over his guitar or something? These are high stakes.

I swallow the anxiety building in my belly and throw open the bedroom door, trying to keep my eyes downcast as I walk to the bed occupying the far end of the spacious room. Todd must have gone to bed by now, that or he's doing work in his room. He wasn't in the dining room when I passed it. Somehow, that makes being in here feel criminal. 

If I snooped, no one would know.

But I'm not a fucking idiot, so that's not even on my bucket list of things to do in Vegas. I'm already on Sal's shit-list. I don't want him to put me even higher on it-- though, maybe working my way up that list might make for a good hate-fuck or something...

A side-tracked mind results in borrowed time. And my borrowed time is probably going to end up with Sal murdering me in my sleep if I take any longer.

I still can't help but look up though. Just to see something. To keep my knowledge of this room a secret forever.

My eyes glaze over the entirety of the room as I reach Larry's bed. The mattress itself is cleared, but all of his clothes are thrown on top of his suitcase that's hiding beside his bed. My guess is that Sal told him to clean up the place and this was Larry's definition of "clean."

I sink to my knees and dig under Larry's pile of clothes. There's a couple pairs of shirts and shorts still folded way at the bottom of his suitcase, so I grab those and then pinch the waistband of a pair of boxers between my index and thumb. I have no idea if they're clean and I have no desire to find out if they're dirty. 

I fold the clothes under my arm then acknowledge the room once more. It's pasty white, as are the beds. But I pay closer attention to Sal's side of the room for... reasons.

There's a glass of water on his bedside table. I have no idea what it's there for. Maybe he gets thirsty at night. But there's also a guitar case leaning up against his bed. His suitcase rests neatly on top of the white comforter on his bed, all his clothes folded to perfection and stacked inside. He's so much more organized than Larry. In fact, he'd have been better off rooming with Todd.

It's so... normal. And I didn't think his belongings would be normal. I didn't think his room would look so domestic. I half-expected to find a blue wig hanging off the bed post, or taxidermy animals, or furniture made from skin-- inspired by Ed Gein, of course.

But he's normal. Hell, he seems more normal to me right now than Larry given the different states of each half of this room.

I swallow down the odd feeling of having different results than I'd originally expected. It's not saddening, it's just... weird.

My time here is done though, so I quickly skitter out of the bedroom, shut the door behind me, and speed-walk back to the bathroom. 

When I walk in, I happen upon another thing I didn't originally expect to see tonight. Or ever, for that matter. 

Sal's standing on the toilet seat, all focus and dedication as he carefully brushes Larry's teeth for him. Much like I did for Ash earlier. I don't even know how to react upon seeing the scenario because Larry's even holding onto Sal's waist. It makes me want to laugh my ass off, but it's also kinda cute. Seeing them work together and not caring about how others perceive it is just sweet. But it's still fucking hilarious. 

My eyes tear up a bit as I try to hold in the laughter bubbling up my throat. For God's sake, I need to get out of here before I lose it.

I put Larry's clothes onto the bathroom counter then drag Ash into a standing position. "Larry's clothes are near the sink," I say, my voice wavering as I try to bite down the giggle that so desperately wants to be released.

Sal answers me with a nonchalant, emotionless, "'kay."

I puff out my cheeks as I help Ash over to her room, biting my lips to hold in my little giggles. But once I finally get us both inside and shut the door, I let the giggles flow. Not like anyone but Ash can hear me anyway.

"What are you laughing at?" Ash asks, her words drawn out and so, so soft. I lift her shirt over her head and push her arms through the new shirt I'd grabbed for her. "Do I look ugly?"

"No, no. You're gorgeous, as always," I quickly say, grabbing onto the collar of the shirt and pulling down until her head pops through the hole. Her hair is a static-y mess and splattered across her face. "I'm just laughing at the position I found Sally and Larry in earlier." I use a finger to brush strands of hair out of her face, then I run my fingers through it to tame the frizz.

"Oh, yea," Ash opens her watery, sleepy viridian eyes. "I saw that. Sal wanted Larry to sit for him but Lar said something about not wanting to hurt the bacteria living on his skin." Ash squints her eyes in obvious confusion, then closes them again.

Larry is so ridiculous. He's just like Ash-- worrying about things that don't need to be worried about. Come on, body bacteria?

I just shake my head, smiling at my sweet Ashy-poo while she unfastens the button on her cargo pants before shimmying her way out of them. They get stuck around her ankles, so I kneel down and gently pull them off of her.

But then she drops her panties without even an ounce of a warning to me. 

I spin on my heels and purse my lips. I take it she's got the rest of this on her own.

I let Ash do her thing, tapping my feet against the ground and acting like this isn't my room too. Just puts me in an odd position knowing that Ash is just... yea.

With the way I'm standing, arms crossed and posted up awkwardly, I feel like a guard. Or a princess's personal knight. Damn, I actually wish I was the princess to that dark knight from earlier.

Oh, no. Now Larry's gotten the Batman reference stuck in my head forever.

Speaking of Larry, he and Sal are suddenly in the doorway and Ash is still getting dressed behind me-- crap.

I rush up to the two men and slap my hands over their eyes. Not that it matters much considering that Sal is wearing a prosthetic and Larry's so tall that his head almost hits the top of the door frame.

"What the fuck?" Sal gripes, grabbing onto my wrist and yanking it off of his face.

He glares at me, eyes so incredibly close that I can see all the different shades of blue populating his irises. I'm momentarily distracted, which ends up sucking because Sal's eyes snap to Ash.

They widen, meeting my own eyes again. And then he does the last thing I'd ever expect-- which seems to be my motto tonight. He grabs my hand and slaps it back over his eyes.

I take a breath, trying to calm the panic that's wreaking havoc on my body.

"What the hell are you two doing in here?" I snap at the boys, blinking at their stone-still figures. Sal and I are shoulder-to-shoulder, but since my arm is raised, it's more like chest-to-chest. And the same goes for Larry, but that somehow doesn't matter as much.

Sal huffs. "Larry wants to sleep with Ash tonight. It's.. it's their drunk thing," he grumbles, though his voice is a tad shaky which suggests that he might be nervous with a little spoonful of shocked.

"Okay, well, drunk ritual or not," I say pointedly. "You could've knocked."

"Fuck off," Sal bites out, but his rebuttal is weak. He knows he can't fight this, and he knows he's in the wrong either way.

I turn my head over my shoulder to see if Ash is done changing. She finally has underwear on-- thank God-- but she's struggling with her sweats now.

Not like these guys haven't seen Ash in panties before, I suppose.

I rush over to my pretty friend and help her as best as I can by grabbing the waistband of her sweatpants. She bounces on her toes, trying to work the fabric up her legs. And I almost giggle when I realize the boys haven't moved farther into the room. Poor Sal must still be recovering.

Once Ash finally has her pants on, I guide her to the bed and pull the blankets back, helping her to flop onto the clean sheets. 

"Take my pants off," she whines, scrunching her face up as she rubs her legs all over the mattress, stretching her arms over her head.

Sighing, I place my hands on my hips and stare down at her. Sal has finally walked over to the side of the bed that I sleep on, trying to help Larry get under the blankets as well. "Larry can help you out of your sweatpants, I just got you into them," I tell Ash, watching as she sticks out her bottom lip in an adorable pout.

"Well then get in bed, I'm tired," she murmurs a bit more, rolling over to throw an arm and a leg around Larry. And Larry, in turn, wraps an arm around her waist and buries his face into her neck. It's quite cute. I can't help but smile at the sweet embrace.

"There's no room for me, lovebug," I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight. Get some rest, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

Before I leave. And then not for another long period of time which hurts so, so bad. I gulp down those words before they can leave my mouth though. I don't want to make Ash feel bad for anything. She had fun tonight-- we all did.

"But how will I make it through the night without you?" Ash asks, starting to stir a bit. Larry looks so comfy, I don't want either of them to interrupt their positions or their sleep.

"The same way you always have, honey," I say solemnly, leaning over to run my hand over her hair. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You're a strong, brave girl."

"Yea." She yawns, settling in beside Larry again. "You're right. I'm strong and brave."

"Vi, just sleep in my bed. Don't rot on Sal's smoking couch," Larry slurs, his voice muffled from Ash's shoulder.

"Fuck no," Sal instantly bites out. I glance to him, noting his arms that are crossed over his chest and the disdain in his eyes that are shadowed by the darkness of the room.

For once, I can agree. I absolutely will not sleep in the same room as Sal. That's the very last place I want to be on my final day in Las Vegas. The smurf would slit my throat. 

"No, that's okay, Lar." I wave him off even though he can't see it. I'd much rather take the couch, especially since I suddenly feel like crying. I have to leave everyone tomorrow. No matter how many nights I've slept wrapped up in Ash's limbs and no matter how long I've gotten to hang around Larry and Todd, it still just doesn't feel like anywhere near long enough. And tomorrow, I'll be back in LA. Back to where I was before. To where we all were before. Distanced and displaced.

"Vi, don't fight me," Larry sighs, squeezing the fabric of Ash's shirt in his fist. "It is my dying wish for you to sleep in my bed. And don't let Sal scare you off either. He couldn't harm a fly, let alone a pretty girl like you."

Pretty girl. That's what Sal called me earlier. Maybe he stole that line from Larry.

I lick my dry lips and swallow down the lump in my throat. I'll appease him with agreement and take the couch anyway. It's not like he'll remember telling me to sleep in his bed anyway. But I just need to be away from the things that make me want to cry. Sal makes me want to do multiple things, so I'll just attach him to that list anyway.

"Fine, fine." I push the words past trembling lips, trying to ignore the way that the weight I've been ignoring for the past couple hours is suddenly starting to crash down on me. 

"You guys fucking suck," Sal hisses, uncrossing his arms and moving to the door. And even though he's voicing his opposition, he hasn't fought against the plan for me to occupy Larry's bed. He's just... going with it. If anything, it seems like he's complaining just to keep up appearances. There's just no bite to his words.

Weird. But whatever.

I roll my eyes at Sal to try and ignore my own concerns about his behavior. I was sad a moment ago, I don't want to circle back to confused. Or maybe I do? I don't even know anymore. I think I'm officially starting to go crazy.

"Um," I voice, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I look down at my two cuddling friends. "Thanks for the bed, Lar. And don't hesitate to call if you need anything. Both of you."

"Yep," Ash mumbles, followed by Larry who says, "Night."

Well, that's that. And I can't hold off the awkward moment where Sal and I are going to walk out of this room together.

I turn on my heel, keeping my head down as I walk over to where Sal's at. But he's already swung the door open and stepped out, making his way into the dining room. 

I close the door softly behind me, making sure to switch off the light right before it's fully closed. I guess it's time to move to the couch. I'd really appreciate Larry's pillows and blanket now, come to think of it. I'm basically a kitten stranded in a tundra-- I can't sleep in this place without a blanket.

Aware that I might get my head bitten off, I awkwardly walk over to the dining room and peek around the wall, eyeing Sal who grabs another bottle of water from the fridge, but this time it's for him. 

He turns to walk to his room, no doubt, but finds me standing there watching him. Which only makes me feel even creepier than I did a moment ago. I should've just said something, but he's constantly so hot and cold. I'm walking on eggshells here.

"Would you, um," I purse my lips, trying to think of a way to put my thoughts into word form. "Could you bring Larry's blanket and one of his pillows to me? I'm just going to sleep on the couch." I try to keep my voice as even as possible. I don't want him to know that my thoughts are taking over every inch of me like a never-ending typhoon. That I feel so out of control right now with no way to organize my emotions. 

His eyes go from wary to disbelieving. "Don't be weird about it," he says, a tad aggravated. "Just take his bed. I don't care."

"You really think I'm just going to sleep in the same room as you?" I ask him, quite seriously in fact. He must know how much I don't trust him.

He seems to raise an eyebrow beneath his prosthetic as he tightens his hold on the bottle in his hands. The plastic crinkles, the sound echoing through the large room. Disrupting the quiet. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you. The most you'll get is fucked, like I said I'd do earlier."

My immediate reaction is a tongue-in-cheek, wide-eyed stare in his direction. He was serious about that earlier? Even after I pelted him with paintballs? Or is this his way of getting back at me for covering him in paint? Hell, neither of us have gotten a chance to change out of the tactical gear we left the shoot in. 

At least I have the clothes I originally wore sitting on the dining table. I can change into those later.

I take a deep breath and hold onto it for a moment. Sal watches me, waiting for a response. In truth, this is the kind of distraction I need right now. To ignore all the guilt and sadness building up in me. Fuck the pain away, I guess.

"Okay," I say, attempting to sound more sure of myself rather than bashful and fucking shy. Of all things. I sucked him off earlier. He's had his fingers in my pussy. I couldn't be more sure about disappearing into his room with him-- but something just makes me feel... "Lead the way."

He doesn't say a word. Simply walks past me and into the hallway, heading for the door to his room at the end of the hallway. So I follow him, tiptoeing behind him and keeping my distance because I'm still wary. For all I know, he could open that door and then slam it shut in my face. 

Very Sal of him. I wouldn't be surprised.

But when we do make it to the room (and we get there way too quickly), Sal opens the door and he leaves it open, allowing me to walk in behind him.

He looks at me for a moment, watches me come to a stop a few steps away from him. 

And just when I'm beginning to rethink my decision of coming in here with him, the air in the room suddenly shifts. The situation I'm in feels primal now, like I'm being hunted. And again, I'm shocked by how quickly Sal's able to diffuse an awkward situation. He hasn't even said a word, hasn't even touched me. All he's done is tilt his head down a bit and change his stance-- the action so small that I hardly even noticed it.

He walks past me, so close that his shoulder brushes against mine as he aims for the door. A chill erupts along my spine and images and ideas of all the other places he could touch me take over my brain like a disease.

Sal slowly shuts the door, the lock falling into place with a soft click. Everything feels tense. He's standing there, I'm standing here. I know he's going to walk over here and dominate me to pieces soon. I'm so enthralled in the idea alone that I don't know what to do with myself. All of the pain I felt just moments ago is gone. Disappeared into thin air.

And I couldn't be happier.

He turns to me after locking the door, but never moves. Only stares. His blue eyes seem dim in the bright room, the ceiling lights reflecting off of his white and pink prosthetic. One veiny, ring-clad hand, decorated with bracelets, rests at his side while the other is safely tucked away inside his pocket. His stance isn't rigid, but it's on guard. It's waiting for a singular move from me to set this plan into motion.

The air condition blows a few strands of his cerulean hair, making him bring a hand up to push it away from his eyes. But other than that, he just stares my way.

I stare back, fidgeting with my fingers and lightly tapping my foot against the ground. Maybe Sally changed his mind all of a sudden. Maybe he doesn't want to do anything with me; he may just want to go to bed. And that's perfectly fine, I mean, I'm leaving in a few hours now anyway. It's uncharacteristic of him to change his mind when it comes to anything sexual, but who knows. He may have lost interest.

Sal's head tilts to the side a bit. "Are you just going to stand there?" He asks, voice coated in a mixture of agitation and hidden expectations. "Are we going to continue where we left off or are we going to go to bed hating each other as always?"

I purse my lips, picking at my fingernails. "Even if we continue, we'll still go to bed hating each other." I look off to the side, a little miffed over his words. We can't stand each other, even if all we crave lately is each other.

"Might as well have some fun before the hate then, right?" Sal says matter-of-factly, seemingly waiting for my consent. "I remember saying something about scaring your fantasies away, after all."

Adrenaline fills up every inch of my body. It happens so quickly, so viscerally. The only thing I can do is squeeze my thighs together and chew on my lip. Otherwise, I'd probably do something weird and ruin this entire moment. "Show me what you've got then. Because I still don't believe you," I say, my voice low and on the quiet side.

Sal takes that as his cue and closes the distance between us. I assume he'll start off like he did last night, but he takes me by surprise instead. 

He grabs me by the nape of my neck, sneering to himself. His strong hands force me to turn around and then he slams me into the vanity against the wall, his painted nails digging into my skin.

I hiss when my chest and face press into the dark oak surface beneath me. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch my lips together, trying to stay quiet. There was so much in that one little push— so much dominance, anger, even satisfaction. On the other hand, my mask is pinching into the side of my face. It even lifted up to uncover the tip of my nose. I move my hands to hold onto the edge of the vanity, using one to quickly fix my mask.

My heart screams in my chest. He can't see me. Could he have seen me? And he couldn't recognize me just by the tip of my nose, right?

Sal leans over me. His warmth envelops me so quickly and I suck in a breath, shivering when his hair brushes along my jaw. One of his hands is still clutching  the back of my neck and the other comes down harshly against my ass. I flinch at the contact, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth to contain whatever filthy sound that was about to be released.

Things have taken a dark turn and I'm here for it.

"You keep testing me. Every single day. Can't you shut up for once?" he hisses into my ear while his lower half presses into me from behind. More specifically, his thick cock against my ass. The only thing separating our skin is our cargo pants that are covered in neon paint splotches.

He presses down on my neck, pushing my face into the cold wood. "You think you're all special and pampered because I went easy on you last night, don't you?" He harshly says, grip tightening. "You haven't seen even a fraction of what I'm capable of. And I'm not sure you're ready either."

I snort. He doesn't know a single thing about me. This is what I want— I want to be scared. I want to be hurt. Doesn't he realize?

"And honestly, I don't give a fuck whether you're prepared or not. You're walking into my world now." His voice is an aggressive whisper in my ear, making goosebumps rise along my skin. His hand moves from my neck to grab at my hair, right against my scalp. He gives a tight yank, causing me to tilt my head up and arch my back to relieve some of the pain.

My mouth falls open as I stare at him through the mirror before me. He's hovering over me with the most devilish look in his pretty blue eyes. His hand in my hair, the other resting on my butt. He looks like he has perfect control over the situation.

"Do you wish to proceed?" He asks, this time more seriously, taking a second to focus on consent before continuing.

"Not if you talk like that, Todd Morrison," I rasp out, grinning mischievously at his reflection.

His eyes narrow in response. "I'm serious, Vi," he growls out.

My own eyes roll in response while butterflies kick up in my belly. "Fine," I murmur. "Yes, I want to do this." The words tumble from my lips so effortlessly. It was so hard for me last night, even just a few moments ago, but seeing our position fills me with anticipation. I can't pass up such an offer when he already has me bent over a piece of furniture. This is a dream come true.

Sal hums, the vibration transferring from his chest into my entire body, making some unknown exhilaration soar to life within me. I grip onto the edges of the vanity, trying to hold myself together. But the truth is that I'm falling apart in his hands. The world around me is absolutely nothing-- I have no worries, no thoughts so long as he continues to touch me. 

He drags his fingers from my scalp to the end of my hair and wraps it around his fist before shoving my face back into the wood. Thankfully, this time he's a bit gentler so I can adjust my mask by simply moving my face against the wood. "Give me a safe word," he commands hoarsely, palm running up my ass to the top of my pants.

I let out a breath, finding it hard to get in a good dose of oxygen at the moment. His touch is so rough, but nowhere near enough at the same time. I want to feel him everywhere. I want him underneath my skin-- something. Anything more than just this little bit he's giving me.

"Safe word?" My heart skips a beat. "So we're getting really slutty then."

"I won't say it again," Sal warns, absolutely done with my antics. "Don't test me. I'll fuck the brat right out of you."

His words make a shiver crawl up my spine. Yum, how fun.

I shut my eyes again and release another shaky breath. "Okay, uh," I trail off, taking a moment to ponder. Coming up with safe words is always so hard, especially when I'm put on the spot. Naturally, my first thought is to make it something that only he and I will understand. We don't have many memories, but we've done some dirty stuff, so we do have a couple things in common. I think he's hot and hopefully the same goes for him.

"Time's ticking," Sal says, voice monotonous but much deeper than it was seconds ago. Patience wearing thin.

The only thing that comes to mind is the argument that Larry and Sal had the day I got to Caesar's Palace. And then an image of Sal and Larry dressed as deer follow the memory.

"Twitterpated," I quickly spit out, gulping down the flash of embarrassment that's overcome me. I don't want to risk having this moment ended because I couldn't come up with a simple safe word. How ridiculous would that be? The one I chose is ridiculous in and of itself.

Sal snorts quietly. "Alright. Twitterpated. You say that, everything stops. I say that, everything stops. Got it?" He asks me, wrapping his arm around my waist and fumbling with the buttons on my pants.

I lick my lips while my heart jumps into my throat. "Got it."

"Prove it," Sal says, fingers squeezing my hair tight.

My mouth gapes open when a spark of pain ignites along my scalp. It renders me speechless for a moment while I relish in the blissful feeling. "Twitterpated," I say, loud enough for him to hear even though I feel so breathless.

Sal's hands stop. One moves away from my pants and the other untangles itself from my hair, but he still hovers over me. "Good girl," he purrs. "Ready to continue?"

I swallow thickly, my cheeks turning a dark shade of red over the praise. My breasts uncomfortably squish into the vanity while I impatiently wait for Sal to touch me again. "Yes," I say softly, eager to see where this goes.

Without a second of hesitation, Sal's hands are back where they were a moment ago. Only now, he's quickly and effectively undone the buttons on my pants. He hooks his fingers into the waistband, gives a quick tug, and then the fabric is pooling around my legs.

"Pick up your feet," he demands, bending away from me to grab the piece of clothing. His cool fingers lightly trail down my thighs and calves, making an involuntary shiver take hold of my body. He knows exactly what he's doing. That much is obvious when he drops to his haunches and wraps one large, ring-clad hand around the top of my thigh. His fingertips brush the edge of my panties and I feel like I've lost all ability to breathe.

I lift one foot at a time, letting him to pull the article out from under me. He haphazardly throws my pants to the side before returning to me, one hand still wrapped around my thigh and the other palming my bare ass like it's some kind of science project. "How pretty," he purrs, fingers dancing over my skin— down the inside of my thigh then between my legs, teasing my clothed pussy. His index finger presses into my clit with purpose and I flinch, heart racing as I press my legs together. The light touches and teasing make me want to whimper, but I refuse to give in so quickly.

Sal hums amusedly, pulling his hand away from my core to drag it up my back. "You're behaving so well. How long will that last?" He muses. His hand trails down to my underwear again. For a moment, every one of my bodily functions stops. He ripped my panties apart last night, who's to say he won't do it again?

But thankfully, Sal only pulls those down my legs too, allowing me to step out of them.

I let out a little breath of relief, blinking at the cream wall to the side of me. "It'll last as long as you let it. Up to you," I tell him. He must be able to tell that I'm holding on by a thread from the sound of my voice.

"As long as I let it?" He repeats my words, forming them into a question. I can feel his hard dick twitch against my bare ass, the feeling of it sends a shock through my body and straight to my core. My chest feels heavy with satisfaction as I shut my eyes and lick my lips. He's just as enraptured as I am-- the knowledge of that will never not fill me with an insatiable amount of pleasure.

"Treat me well and we'll see how long I can keep up the good behavior," I say quickly, trying to hide how affected I am, though there's no reason to do so. If I wasn't so worried about looking like an idiot, I'd be panting like a dog right now.

I hear a grunt behind me, his fingers flexing against my skin and scalp. "I don't treat anyone well. This is all for me and you'll do well to know that. Now shut the fuck up."

My eyes are still closed when his hand wraps around my waist and moves down to my swollen clit, his fingers expertly teasing the bud. He's skilled. Knows what makes me tick and what gets me going. He's only done this to me once before so I can only guess that he just has a good amount of experience.

Sal's fingers leave my clit, exploring downward to dip into me just a bit, soaking up all the wetness that had collected between my folds. The light intrusion is both unbearable and incredibly pleasing, I can't decide what I want to feel.

My thighs unintentionally squeeze together as my emotions battle each other. I've been waiting for this all day. He's only just brushing the surface of this experience and I feel like I'm going to fall apart. Hell, maybe I've already fallen apart but my pride won't allow me to acknowledge it.

"And there we are," he suddenly grinds out between clenched teeth, the sound of his aggressive tone spooking me momentarily. "Keep your legs open."

"Or?" I say without thinking.

I open my eyes when Sal's fingers leave my folds. Then his feet push my legs apart, keeping my feet firmly planted into the carpet with his own legs. My pussy is on full display for him, my back arched and ass pressed into him.

"I told you to shut the fuck up," he hisses quietly, voice so dangerous and delicious. His prosthetic face is right beside mine and I flinch at his words and our proximity, a little thrum of unease passing through me. It's soon replaced by excitement though.

Suddenly, without warning and despite my initial worry, Sal plunges a finger into me. And he doesn't stop.

Everything moves insanely quickly and I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my head, that or I'm going to cry— in a good way. Sal's finger thrusts into me at an unforgivably fast pace and each time he sinks into my pussy again, a garbled moan falls from my lips.

The skin of his wrist repeatedly slaps into my ass, creating more friction and tension. There's so much happening— his fingers in me, his skin on mine, his hand buried in my hair.

I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering when he curls his finger at just the right angle, sending a rush of pleasure through my entire body. I shiver, digging my fingers into the wooden surface beneath me.

Sal yanks my head up by my hair, forcing me to look at this salacious scene through the mirror in front of us. I can see him, bent over me with his prosthetic lips pressed into the side of my head and his arm moving so quickly behind me, so brutal and unrelenting.

The feelings that build up within me hit hard. There's the cliff I'm trying to chase, the one I want to jump over. Reach the peak. Anything to feel more of what he's giving me.

"Look at yourself," Sal says breathlessly, his eyes meeting my own through the mirror as he turns his head, keeping his cheek pressed against mine. "Dirty little whore. You like being used. You like being disobedient. You like being broken," he says these words to me, each syllable coming out in a light, controlled pant. He's definitely enjoying myself. "I'll break you if that's what you want," he continues, finger curling into me again. "But it comes at a price."

My eyes roll into the back of my head. If I could form words, I'd tell him "please" but lucky for him, I'm afraid to open my mouth. With his finger slamming into me like this, I'd wake up the entire suite. I don't trust myself and I sure as shit don't trust him, but what I do trust is his ability to make me cum. He's good at it, after all.

"Come on," he growls out, yanking my hair a bit more. I'm forced to bend my neck due to his grip. My back is pressed against his chest, there's no way for me to move to find some kind of solace. And still, I'm quickly gaining on an orgasm that only he can bring me to.

My legs squeeze together of their own accord, but his thighs keep them from completely closing. He's still pumping his finger into me at that same, beautifully addicting pace that he started at. I think I'm seeing stars.

"You gonna cum for me like a good bitch?" he rasps out, squeezing my hair tighter in his hand. I only moan as quietly as I can in response, still not trusting my ability to speak. Even then, the sound was still easy to hear.

"Speak," Sal commands, hooking his finger into me yet again. He's buried deep, to the hilt with his hand cupping the bottom of my butt and his finger moving quickly inside me. It's overwhelming in the most amazing way. My heart flutters in my chest, already running a marathon regardless. My lungs can't hold in a good breath and my limbs are quaking furiously.

"Yes," I say hoarsely, reaching my arms up to grab onto the back of his hair. I need to hold onto something; pleasure doesn't come to me in sections right now, it's one huge tidal wave that ceases to end. I'm practically drowning in the oncoming orgasm. "Please, I'm so close," I groan, biting down on my bottom lip while squeezing my eyes tightly.

Sal's neck is pressed against mine. I can feel every breath he takes, feel every little grunt that leaves his throat. His skin is hot, a little sweaty. His azure hair is mixed with mine. My mask and his prosthetic are cheek-to-cheek. I can't tell if the deep breaths and panting I'm hearing are coming from me or him.

"Really?" He says, voice condescending. Each syllable reverberates through my entire body, only pushing me even closer to the edge. I don't have enough time to focus on him— the end is in sight and he's thrusting his finger so hard, so deep, so fast. Just one more—

But there's never another thrust. When he pulls his finger back, it leaves me completely. And then I'm feeling empty, out of breath, fluttery all over, and quite frankly, a little pissed off.

I open my eyes, looking up at Sal through the mirror. His gaze travels over the image of my body before meeting mine in the reflection. "I told you all good things come with a price," he says, probably reading the negative emotions in my gaze. "You don't get to cum until I say you do."

Eyes dark with desire, malice, and sinful intentions, Sal lets go of me and turns his head. My hands fall to my sides as I watch him take a step or two away from me. "Move and I'll kick you out," he grunts out quickly. "You're going to be a fucking problem with all the touching," he continues, moving away from the vanity and out of my line of vision. I stay rooted in my spot, orgasm slowly fading away from me and being replaced by an almost painful yearning in my gut. Fuck, how dare he.

But from the sound of it, he's not finished. He just has an issue with me touching him. He said something about that earlier today too, which, fine. Hard limit— okay. I won't touch. I just wish he would get back here and finish what he started because I'm about to go feral.

I can hear what sounds like metal clanking together quietly behind me, and then Sal reappears in the mirror with a leather belt in his hand. I can't help but tense up my entire body, mind going blank.

There's a little glimmer of amusement in his cerulean eyes when he notices my reaction, so he holds the belt up, shaking it a bit. "This scare you?" He asks, but I shake my head, gulping down the exhilaration that threatens to practically crawl out of my skin. I'm so excited.

"It should," he says pointedly, tilting his head down slightly to intimidate me. And... okay, it definitely works. I've never done this type of thing with him before so this could go one of two ways. But I don't say anything, I just stare back at him, lips parted while I try to catch my breath.

Sal blinks then looks down at my bare ass. "Do you like pain?" He mumbles, running a teasing finger down the slope of my butt.

"Yes," is what I reply with, my voice shaking and my thoughts completely clouded. It's like we've gone the complete opposite way from last night. I couldn't get a word out yesterday— too nervous and embarrassed. But now I'd do anything to make him touch me, hurt me. Anything.

His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, then he lifts that belt and swings it down, the leather cracking against the skin of my ass harshly.

I yelp and jolt away from him instinctually, my hips slamming into the wooden vanity. My eyes shut as pain closes in on me from all sides and I grip onto the oak in front of me, taking a slow breath.

Then comes the good part, the satisfying feeling of being hurt. The wetness that gathers on my folds, the delightful queasy feeling in my tummy that spreads through my chest all the way to my toes.

I lick my lips, blinking my eyes open when a pleasurable cry threatens to build in my throat.

I'm too close to the vanity to tilt my head up and look at Sal's reflection, but that doesn't stop him. He takes a step toward my retreated figure, palm enveloping the skin he'd just abused. His fingers expertly massage my sore butt, only bringing out more feelings for me to indulge in.

"Well, aren't you fun," he purrs into my ear, chuckling softly. He pulls my hands off of the vanity, putting my wrists together against my back. Then, he moves his hand from my ass to the spot between my shoulder blades and pushes my upper body down onto the surface of the wooden dresser. "Stay there. Be good." His words are drowned out the second he wraps that leather belt around my wrists like he's done it a thousand times before.

He loops the fabric around one wrist, then does the same to the other, leaving absolutely no wiggle room for me to get out. Next, he puts one end through the belt buckle and yanks it tight, making the leather pinch my skin uncomfortably. I hiss at the feeling, squeezing my hands into fists as a spear of gratification stabs into me. This is borderline embarrassing, but definitely worth it.

Sal huffs out a quick, disbelieving laugh at my reaction, his hands pulling harshly at the belt to make sure I won't be able to get out. "I guess I underestimated you," he acknowledges, albeit he does so hesitantly, like he hates to admit that he may have been wrong. "Maybe I can't scare you off. Maybe you've been a freak all along."

His hands spread over my back and to my waist, dragging up my sides and pushing my shirt up with it. His cold, nimble fingers trail over my ribs slowly, feeling each bone and every inch of my heated flesh. Then, two of his fingers push into the skin right below my breast on the left side of my body. I clench my teeth together when a dull ache follows the action. He found the bruise that his paintballs left on me earlier today.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, tone patronizing in a way that would cause an instant fight in any other situation. Being belittled in this scenario is oddly satisfying in a way I can't quite explain though.

Sal leans over me again, his hard cock rubbing over my skin. His fingers are still gripping my sides as he whispers to me, "I'd bite that bruise if I could-- make you hurt even more."

A groan is ripped from my lips despite how badly I wish I could have kept it hidden within me. I really wish he would bite me.

As quickly as he'd grown closer to me, he pulls away. But this time, I hear the rustling of clothing and my breath is stolen from me again. I can hear my heart, feel it beat in my fingertips. This is it, the moment I've been waiting for for... well, weeks now. 

My legs quake in anticipation when Sal presses a hand onto my lower back, settling me against the vanity. And he doesn't say a word-- neither do I when I feel the soft skin of the head of his dick pressing gently against my cunt. I bite into my bottom lip, my head feeling fuzzy as adrenaline grips me. 

I push myself backwards, hopefully discreetly enough to the point that Sal's unable to tell, but just the very tip of him sinks into my pussy from my motions. A shaky whimper comes from Sal and it's so quiet that it seems to have been ripped from him, like he hated to even make a sound so soon.

"Stay fucking still," he bites out, voice higher pitched than it was the last time he spoke. The way I can tell exactly what he's feeling just from the way he speaks is incredible. He's so easy, yet so hard to read. 

I still don't say a word. Damn him for momentarily taming the brat because this is a violation of my own personal rules. But I can't help myself-- so long as my silence brings him closer to me, I'll give up my voice box. I'd give it up forever.

"Good fucking girl." The words are barely audible, only meant for himself as his thumb rubs over the top of my ass. He pushes his cock just a bit farther into me, taking his sweet fucking time. I don't know how he has so much patience because I'm really about to lose my mind. I can't hold out, I can't.

"Sal," I almost cry out, taking a quick breath to try and regain my composure," Please."

"I said to shut up, Vi," he rasps, but his voice has no aggression or bite. He's losing himself. "When will you learn your lesson?" 

I turn my head in an attempt to shake it, but find that the vanity's surface stops me from doing so. I couldn't care less about his no-talk thing right now. "Can you just--"

The sound of a jiggling door knob results in Sal quickly pulling out what very little bit of his dick had actually entered me. I jolt upright myself, taking staggering and panicked steps back until I bump into Sal's front. His hand instinctually grabs onto my waist to stabilize me as we watch the door. Fear is thrumming through my genes at the terrorizing thought of someone entering this room with Sal and I almost completely naked like this. So much is going wrong-- 

But the door knob stops jiggling and that's when Sal and I both suddenly realize that the door is locked.

I physically fold, bending forward in relief as a cold sweat suddenly takes over me.

Sal removes himself from behind me. When he walks around me, he's holding his pants up by the waistband and taking a couple steps toward the door. He doesn't say a word, confusion and pure, unadulterated fear is written in his body language.

"Sal, I want to come back in here with you." It's Larry, and poor thing. He sounds so desperate. 

Sal glances back at me, his bright, icy blue gaze unreadable. I watch him, glancing between those eyes of his with a pout that I can't hide. We were so close. 

"Okay, Lar," Sal says monotonously. He makes no move for the door though, likely because I'm still half naked. 

"Alright," Larry says, voice muffled from the hunk of wood separating him from us. He sounds so relieved. "I'm going use the bathroom real quick. Can you unlock the door for when I get back?"

"I will," Sal mumbles back in response, walking back to me with a little glare in his eyes.

I suck in a breath. I'm disappointed, in truth. I was excited for this. We had both agreed and we were right there, but the opportunity is gone.

Sal stands behind me, undoing the belt around my wrists. I pull my hands away from my back when the belt is removed and flex my fingers, admiring the red marks left on my skin from the leather.

I glance off to the side after a moment and grab my clothes, quickly pulling on my underwear before I take a chance and turn. Sal has been quiet, which is weird. It's unsettling, even. Makes me kind of uncomfortable.

When he finally enters my field of vision, he even looks a bit awkward. Maybe it's because the moment is ruined and I'm literally almost half naked, fighting to get my cargo pants over my ankles.

"This is over," Sal finally speaks, his eyes boring into mine. Well, duh, it's over. Larry interrupted us. I don't have to say a word for him to see the words on my face.

"This thing," he continues, all nonchalance and unbothered as he gestures between us with a hand. "It's over. No sex over the phone, no hand or mouth stuff, no sex in general. I'm done with you. I was done with you yesterday."

My breath gets caught in my throat for the umpteenth time tonight. His words don't necessarily hurt-- I should have expected them. But the point is that I didn't expect them, and now I'm leaving Las Vegas in the morning... but I likely won't see Sal for at least another year anyway. So why am I shocked? Why can't I think? Why can't I process that he just ended our sex agreement?

I just watch him, trying to hide all of the panic, the disappointment, the fear, and the sadness I've been trying to bite down all day. I don't know how to feel. Again. I simply keep my gaze locked on his as I finally get my pants up my legs and begin buttoning them.

Just like that. It's done and I didn't even get the full experience. I feel... upset. I feel angry knowing that I was just a quick fuck for him. Not that we even got to fuck. But, then again, he was the same thing for me. I shouldn't be angry-- I can't be angry.

I should be relieved.

"Okay," I say evenly, peeling my eyes away from him.

I can't look at him. I'll cry or punch him. Maybe I'd yell at him. I don't know. And I don't know why I'd do any of those things to begin with. Maybe it's just because I'm upset that I have to leave tomorrow and all the negative feelings that come with being separated from my friends again is finally starting to make me crack.

"Okay," he responds, voice just as emotionless as mine.

I do the walk of shame to his door, unlocking it quickly and pulling it open. My head feels heavy, too heavy from my neck. My body weighs too much for my legs to uphold right now. I feel like crumbling to the floor. I said that I was falling apart earlier and now I really am.

Sal and I don't exchange a word as I step into the hallway and start closing the door behind me. I swallow my emotions, trying to keep my tears at bay. I don't need to cry. I shouldn't-- there's no reason. None at all. And crying's only going to make me have a terrible headache later.

I look up, tears brimming my eyes as I make quick eye contact with sleepy Larry. Fuck, terrible timing.

"Hey, Vi," he slurs a bit, smiling gently at me. "I'm not kicking you out, you can bunk with me." He's so sweet, but I need to be alone. I need separation or else Larry's going to wake up to me weeping beside him.

"That's okay," I give him my best smile, which probably isn't even really that great. "I'm going to go lay with Ash. I'm pretty tired. Plus your bed is a twin size-- we wouldn't fit."

"Fine." He pouts, following the expression with a yawn. "I'll see you in the morning then. Night."

I swallow down the lump in my throat so I can answer him without giving my feelings away. "Goodnight," I say quietly, because whispering is easier than saying it out loud.

I continue my trek down the hallway, my footsteps picking up speed as I turn a corner and make my way to the bathroom. I can't suppress the urge to cry and the frown marring my face is horrific. I can't keep it away no matter how badly I wish I could feel differently.

I never should have gotten involved with Sal. I never should have come to Las Vegas. Leaving is so much harder. Missing out on this opportunity to see everyone wouldn't have hurt this bad.

I regret everything.

My hand slaps onto the light switch, flicking it on and enveloping the spacious bathroom with blindingly bright light. I shut the bathroom door behind me and grab onto the counter, facing myself in the mirror.

I look sexed out and exhausted. I look broken. He said he'd break me. Fuck, he said he would. It wasn't just him though-- it's everything. Everything that I should have done differently. And now I'm stuck here, pitifully watching myself holding back tears in the mirror and unable to control my raging guilt, disappointment, and regret.

I should shower. That might calm me down, might shut my brain up for a few minutes. 

Without a moment of hesitation, I yank my paint-stained shirt over my head and spare myself another glance in the mirror as my hands work on the clasp of my necklace.

But seeing the necklace in my reflection-- hanging around my neck and resting right between my breasts makes me feel so, so sick. Because it's not my necklace. It's Sal's. It's his guitar pick. And for the last few weeks that I've had it, I've forgotten it was there because it became second nature to take it off before my shower and put it back on right after. It became a part of me-- so much so that I forgot it was even there. I forgot about the meaning it holds, and the power it holds over me.

I pinch my lips together, aggressively pulling the thing away from my body after unclasping it. I squeeze the pick in my fist while leaning over the sink, watching myself in the mirror.

How could I have done this to myself? Every decision I've made recently has ended up being the ultimate betrayal. Every second. Even since right before I became VioletViolence. The day I met Sally Face is the day that everything started going wrong, and it's my own damn fault.

My reflection suddenly has wet, hot tears flowing down her cheeks and a pitiful look on her face. And she's the only one who feels as terribly as I do right now.

_____________________

A/N::::: hiiiiiiii!!! :3 UGH i've missed you guys so much! and i've missed writing so terribly much as well. it's been over a month and that fact literally makes me SICK. i hate being away from the thing that brings me so much joy :( but the good news is that i have less than a month in the semester which means plenty of time to write starting soon!! i've been hellaaaaa busy with my big, really important courses this semester. the amount of work piled onto me is atrocious, but we'll make it through. pinky promise <333

so about faceless fixation-- GRRRRR I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER so many of you have been asking about the necklace and i've literally been clawing at my own soul with anticipation for this final moment!! i have so many plans for future chapters and the only thing i can say with confidence is that it will literally never get any less shocking. i'll keep you guys on your toes forever.

anywho, it's 3:30am and i have class at 9:30, so goodnight my darlings!! i hope you all have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night! and never forget i love you all with my entire heart and soul <33

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Random Things Dr. Cimmerian Said Asleep

Dr. Cimmerian is, first, typically a ray of sunshine. Second, he has a bad habit of dozing off while reviewing reports. And drooling on a few here and there. He does say some weird shit while asleep, I blame the copious amounts of coffee everybody consumes. Once more, without context!

"Peaches? With long pork? Pushing the boundaries of fine cannibal dining I see, Ferdinand. I'd suggest some shiraz or a nice zinfandel."

"Yoshi! Put down that D-Class right this instant! He's a very boring serial killer. The nice Chaos Insurgency guy next to him would taste better, not that we condone a humanitarian diet here."

"Dyo, honestly... the crinoline is outdated with good reason, namely it's too damned impractical. Stick to corsetry."

"Eighty kilos of gunpowder, twenty kilos of iron nails, a further twenty kilos of roofing tar? In her skirts? I've heard people say 'If I'm going to die, you're coming with me!' before, but... that's hard-core. No wonder they stopped burning witches after that. Woman was a massive legend, but not a witch. A REAL witch wouldn't need all that to make burning her a bad idea."

"Clef... your ex... Woman has an entire magazine warehouse of issues. And you put your junk in the crazy. Never. Sleep. With. The. Crazy."

"Dad? Why is the beer growing mushrooms?"

"AAAAAHHH! WHO THE UNHOLY HELLS GAVE 096 A FUCKING CLOWN SUIT!"

"Put down the cake knife and walk away, Dr. Bright. You knew when you asked Mabel for German chocolate what you're in for. Besides, you could just hit her with her own terrible cake. Not that O5 would condone that, of course."

"Uh... Ben? Is it me, or are the daisies staring us down?"

"We actually nailed jello to a tree once. Clef bet Kondraki $200 he could figure out how it's done. Benny almost ate his sword over that one. Turns out you can do it, provided you simply nail the unopened box to the tree."

"Cain, can you locate in the notes where anyone asked Dr. Matthieu for his opinion?" A pause. "Nowhere? Huh. As I thought. Thank you."

"Whomever said you couldn't herd cats never was at my Aunt Martha's house. All she had to do to herd cats was just touch the food bag, and every cat in her house came running."

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO FEED THAT POOR IDIOT TO 682? He's going to get an upset stomach."

"Uh... Agent Dimitriov? I think you might have forgotten part of your uniform. Aren't your knees cold?"

"Are you sure we can't just yeet him out of the airlock when no one's looking? Yes, I know the spaceship is on Earth still, but it's far enough off the ground for terminal velocity to become a factor. Just push him out of the vent."

"You hit the Scarlet King in the junk, with a hammer? And survived? Okay, Abel... I take it back. You're not just a Semetic badass, you're THE Semetic Badass."

"How? How in the hells did you manage to shoot yourself in the back with no one else around you in a sealed room? The fuck you mean, 'The Invisible Man has a gun?' Admit it, you had someone shoot you to get out of Peanut-sitting again, didn't you?"

"Coffee. Extra large, heavy on the cream and sugar. No, larger than that. Larger." A pause. "What do you mean, you don't sell by the gallon?"

"Dr. Gears. This is the SCP Foundation. Sarcasm and pessimism are practically survival mechanisms here. Give the kid a pass."

"NOOOO! COME ON, WHAT THE BLUE FUCK DID OREGON DO TO DESERVE LENNY? YOU UTTER BASTARDS!" In the middle of a meeting with the Ethics Committee, eyebrows were raised, and coffee spilled.

"Run."

"I, too, would rather be under the sea, in an octopuses garden in the shade. You thinking what I'm thinking, my dive brother? Right. Let's leave these landlubbers and go hang with the fishes."

"Funny, 035. First, we can't KEEP you dressed, now you're out here looking like a weird ass male version of Rogue from the X-Men. Malicious compliance is acceptable, I suppose."

"You keep making poultry explode, Alto. Perhaps your charming assistant should give you cooking lessons?"

"WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE?!? AGAIN?"

"Screw the files! Don't let 999 burn! That little blob of joy is my only reason to live."

"That's it. Get me a team of ten really strong D-Class, a case of 100 mph tape, a tranquilizer gun fully loaded, the electric purple snow leopard furry suit in lost and found, and a camera. Let this be the last time anyone sees Bright butt in public."

"I'm not above blackmail and we both know it. Gimme. The. Pie."

"Simon? I think this might be above my skill level. Can you please get Dr. King to calm down?"

"I can't believe Agatha talked him into a mankini. Didn't need photo evidence though."

"WHO THE HELLS TAUGHT THE KETCHUP PUPPIES TO 'FETCH THE LEG'? Max? That's... honestly impressive. Pity about that guy from MC&D, though. He did have it coming, to be honest."

"You ran... the Bible... through the Clockworks? On "Very Fine". And, got basically over a thousand pages of 'Try not to be an asshole, mmmmkay?'. Experiment inconclusive. Run the 'Communist Manesfesto' through next, my accountant is curious."

"Why are you here? Basically, 343 likes a joke as much as the next person. Oh. You meant why are you in the Femur Breaker? Well, we gotta get 106 back in containment somehow. That's where you come in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this, you seem like a lovely fellow."

"They're just firing arrows at us. You have an SMG, shoot them back. Some MTF agent you are."

"He's dating THAT? I've seen less silicone in a RealDoll. And, better fashion sense, for that matter."

"Wait... hold the phone, Abel. You're older than Jesus, but never had a cannoli? Rabbit, my girl, this will not stand. Cannoli the man!" A brief pause. "I KNOW, RIGHT? Whomever invented the cannoli deserves a sainthood."

"Primitive and outdated concept on a crutch!" Preceded by a thump.

"New Bright List entry: 'Dr. Bright is no longer allowed to access the Cursed Clown Nose of Improbability under any circumstances. No, not even to prevent an XK Class Scenario.' Noted. This item #857, or 858? I lost track."

"WHAT kind of butter? Oh. I thought you said something altogether more horrifying."

"JULIAN, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT! You forgot Quinn's birthday. Of COURSE you're in trouble for it. I got you covered though. They're still into lemons and tea, right? You're golden. Lemon blossom tea set, courtesy of the fine folks of Etsy. Pay me back on Friday."

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #dr cimmerian #poor guy has the wonkiest sleep schedule

[aka-indulgence]

Jack O'Lantern :D 🎃

It was getting late. Trick or treaters were going to come in about an hour or two. And you're on your porch, carving a last-minute jack o'lantern.

You've never made one on your own before. Why were you outside with a spoon again?

In hindsight, you really should've done it inside. Bring the cursed gourd to the kitchen. Get a proper knife instead of the spoon you're ruining by trying to stab the pumpkin with it. But you just panicked, having forgotten to get a jack o'lantern, and started to work outside. You forgot the knife in your kitchen, and your arms were just about jello at that point. You didn't want to bother.

You look at the fields, probably the same one this pumpkin was picked up from.

You didn't even have to do much left. It was already empty. You just had to make the eyes and nose and mouth... but you were so tired.

In the end you were just slicing into the skin the outline of the lantern of your dreams. You're about to throw in the towel and give up, grab a marker to draw on the face.

But you heard a rustle nearby. And a not-so-subtle shadow fall over you.

"Gah!!" you throw the spoon out of your hand, looking up at the scarecrow that had decided to stand in front of you, staring at you intently with one red eye.

... This was. The scarecrow from the field. Right?

One red eye, the side of his head damaged by a fall or some other, and looking distinctly like a skeleton.

You should be screaming. Running, even. Throw the damn pumpkin at him and hide. But you were frozen in disbelief, staring up at him.

He raised a hand full of straw (or... made of straw?), pointing.

".... do..."

.

Was.

Was he talking?

"do you need... help...?"

"Huh?"

You looked at where he was pointing at. It was the pumpkin.

"i.... can cut.... for you." He says simply.

This was. Beyond an odd situation. It was bizarre, But you found yourself handing the pumpkin to him anyway, not knowing what else to do in this situation. You've heard scary stories about this particular scarecrow but you always chalked it up to scary rumors meant to keep children away from this particular field. Or thieves. You aren't sure.

But here he was, cutting the face out of the pumpkin for you.

"what's it... for...?" he asks. You can't say you're an expert at reading the expressions of a.. skeleton scarecraw, but it looked like he was smiling at you, as he sliced through your marks with his finger (it looked like a white claw was hidden under the straw.)

"Um... it's a jack o'lantern. I'm going to put it on the front door as a decoration. Kids are going to come over and ask for candy..."

Were you explaining to this scarecrow the concept of trick-or-treating? You guess you were.

He hands back the pumpkin, now a "jack o'" minus the "lantern". You should be afraid considering he has claws sharp enough to make quick work of the pumpkin but... his mannerisms were as innocent as a child's.

"can.... can i stay....?"

"Uhh...." You look up at the scarecrow, back to your house, and back at him. You aren't sure what his company's gonna bring, but you aren't sure how you'd reject his request either.... and honestly he doesn't seem as scary as the rumors say he is.

"Ok, as long as you don't scare anyone off my property, ok?"

He smiles.

"ok."

#its... scarecrow ht sans #for Reasons #idk... sounds cozy #super rushed but also this was the idea i got from this prompt dhjkdsjd #i imagine he likes walking around at night and it scares everyone bc hes spooky and thats where the stories come from #and he's been watching you for a while and is in love with you uwu #id write the encounter to be longer and for reader to be more 'AAAH' and then 'Aw....' but #djfddf #happy hall of the ween #one word prompt #fluffy #?

[alphadogg777]

Hey Packmates! This comic was intended to be released in completion as my gift to @mello-jello for a Secret Santa event held in the Levihan Discord server last year! I highly suggest reading the original fan-fiction on aO3 prior to looking this over as these pages only somewhat connect and have gaps of missing scenes! Several pages are unfinished and I apologize for that. I bit off more than I could chew last December and ended up having to give this project up after the Photoshop file repeatedly crashed and finally corrupted, resulting in me losing my progress. I still wanted to upload this for Jello as I greatly appreciate everything you do and I wanted to provide closure on this project I set out on doing last year! So keep in mind everyone, this is far from perfect and not my proudest work (as this all older art and many parts remain unfinished).

I actually didn't create the pages in order, so I don't have the first half of the fic drawn. For story reference, this scene here takes place right after Hange runs the exercise tests on him and he goes to the bath that she's prepared for him and so on. More notes alongside the pages will be included as you continue to read. Enjoy!

So I uh...chickened out of actually drawing the scene of Hange giving Levi a massage. Going into this little project of mine I believed I could draw this scenario taking place in theory, but it felt MUCH more intimate and steamy and I GOT TOO FLUSTERED AND COULDN'T DO IT I'M SORRY GAHHHH ;-;

Anyways it continues after Hange does the calculations based on the experiment to see if Levi's performance on the field has improved as a result of the luxury treatment. And it turns out...

And that's that! Here are some additional bonus sketches below as well! I meant for these to be used in the comic, however due to the file corrupting I wasn't able to recover all of them which resulted in me losing motivation and any confidence I had left in posting this last year. I hope you all can find enjoyment in these comic pages despite being unfinished for the most part!

Lemme know what y'all think! Stay tuned for more content in the near future! Keep sending me asks/requests, I've had a blast reading through them all! Until next time! :D

#levihan #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange zöe #attack on titan #aot fanart #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot comic #fanfiction fanart #snk comic #comic #comics #unfinished #levi and hanji #aot fanfiction #aot fic

[dokoni-mo]

Micheal: fuck everyone but damn jello is so fucking good.

Reader: jello is made with animal bones.

Micheal: WHAT THE FUCK

Reader: :)

———

Reader having dinner with Micheal and William

Reader: whoever made the soup ill happily eat their ass.

Micheal: it was m-

William: ME

———

Micheal: fuck that limp dick bastard isn’t picking up the phone. I TRIED CALLING 3 TIMES

Clara: let me try Mike

Micheal: anything?

Clara: no.

Reader: let me try :D

Micheal: he wont pic-

William: Hello?

———

Reader: your dad will believe anything i say.

Micheal: yeah right.

Later

William: HA! Reader loves ME not YOU

Micheal: *choking*

———

William: bussy? the fuck is bussy

Micheal and Reader: butt pussy.

———

Reader: Micheal I’d like to introduce you to my future husband

Micheal: who?

William: *planning murder*

Reader: *hugging william*

William: :)))

———

this isnt much but i hope it makes your night :)

🦀<3

HDBSJAKAKAKAAA I LOVE THESE SO MUCH WHENEVER YOU DO THEM IM HOOTIN AND HOLLERIN THE SOUP ONE IS TAKING ME OUT 💀💀

I can just imagine Will blaming mike for everything that doesn't taste good and mike is just like ????? I didnt even help cook???

And will is like its YOUR fault 🫵🫵🫵

AND THE PHONE OME SHSBSJAKAK Will answers the phone like "what. 😡" to everyone else but when you call hes like "hello my sweetest pumpkin pie 😁😁😁😁😁😁❤️❤️❤️❤️"

HES SO SMELLY I LOVE HIM

#I LOVE THESE SM TY MY FAVORITE CRUSTACEAN ❤️❤️ #you did in fact make my night #but knowing i get to log on here with beautiful ppl like you ALWAYS makes my entire day ❤️ #mr krabs anon #pinching your cheeks yet again

[sunsetno4]

If ur playing the sidestep ask game, can I get 1, 3, and 12 for ur step?

Absolutely! :D Thank you so much for the questions! <3

what is their secret identity? do they have any nicknames? what is the meaning behind them?

Vendetta Frey (ne/they). c: Ven is the only nickname anyone outside of Anathema has gotten away it. Themmy used Venny and Vendi a lot. Ortega tried 'gummy bear' once (once) but that only got her the nickname of Jello in return, lol.

As for why, Vendetta was one of the first words they remember hearing and ne just loved the way it sounded. It was so pretty and melodic, and ne just really liked repeating the syllables over and over again to nemself. It's just special to nem, like the first spark of the inferno that would be nir future self. There was never gonna be another choice, as much as Vendetta also wishes ne picked something a bit less noticeable sometimes.

On the other hand, Frey is simply because Ven needed a last name, saw nir hoodie sleeve was fraying and was like 'sure sounds good :)!' lol.

3. what is their villain name? why did they choose it?

Ichor! \m/ Ah, Vendetta just really loves words that are just fun to say and a bit archaic too, which Ichor fits that bill perfectly. The number of hours ne spent pouring over words to find the one that just clicked right… :')

Ichor is also like the spicy fluid that is supposedly the blood of gods and immortals, so Vendetta does enjoy the cheeky-in-a-nerdy-way implications that ne isn't human and that ne is toxic to actual humans like ichor is supposed to be.

Ichor can also imply an infection, which I personally enjoy a lot, and probably why Vendetta keeps allowing trippy drippy glitchy static bs through their armor, ngl. Why fight it? It is a fun visual~~~

12. do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or through violence?

Vendetta's ruthless score is like ….18%, so I wanna say diplomatically?? Ne really doesn't enjoy violence for violence's sake (probably why ne ended up gravitating more towards being a thief, well-thought heists avoid people entirely).

Buuuuuuuut, sometimes you just have to bite people and/or slug them in the face to make a point stick and ne certainly isn't above that. Plus, violence is a faster solution a lot of the time. Like you could spend time talking to someone, or you could knock them out. It's simple and it's efficient. :)

It's probably a 50/50 split, entirely depending on the situation. ^^;;

#thank you thank you! #these were fun~ c: #also picturing ven playing some mmorpg and being the healer/support #that is still the highest dps in the group #because ne thought the rest of the team was garbage #'all the supports and heals go to me. you all suck!' #it's so stupidly on brand for nem. u___u;; #vendetta frey

[larcenywrites]

how would Tony (young and regular/older Tony) react if you need to have your wisdom tooth removed and he's gotta take care of you? like, calm you down before the surgery, accompany you to the orthodontist, take care of you during post-op? and you're all sensitive and upset and feeling shitty and miserable :(

It’s been 8 years since I got all of my wisdom teeth removed but that shit was awful and sometimes the scars flare up and hurt to this day 😭 also my fav story to tell is that after my surgery I was so fucked up on those pain meds for a while (mine took a lot longer to heal than normal and hurt so bad so I took the hard stuff longer than most people lmao), and I played Mass Effect 1 all day every day, and completed it like three or four times over the course of a week 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 my two friends got theirs removed during the same summer as me, and there’s went so smoothly??? Like one had no paid after day 2 or 3 and was eating like normal on day 5, and my other friend took a while before chewing felt more normal but she said her pain wasn’t bad after the first day??? And I literally felt like I was dying for almost two weeks 😭

Young!Tony might have gotten his removed too! 3 or 4 years ago probably, but he’s been through it! He’ll drive you there and back, but on the way he’s probably not the best at comforting you 🤧 He’ll tell you it’s not that bad, and then proceed to tell you all about how he woke up mid-surgery 😭 he thinks it’s kinda funny, but it’s not when you’re about to be in that position :( If you’re anything like how I was after mine, instead of being loopy and stumbly afterward, you walk to the car (mostly) on your own (only stumbling a little bit) after being very grumpy and mean to both Tony and the doctor 😃👍 who thankfully think it’s funny, and Tony only annoys you further when you’re staring through the window with an angry glare and he’s busy asking you how you feel or if you remember anything. Yeah, you feel like shit! No wonder you’re so grumpy! He tries to stay quiet for the rest of the ride 😔 but he’ll put on your favorite songs :D He also made sure to put a towel on your lap maybe or maybe not after Maria advised him to beforehand…

If you don’t already live together, he’ll pretty much try to live in your house for the week even though your parents might be right there to also take care of you 🥺😅 buuuut blood makes him a little squeamish, so helping you replacing those first cottons balls might be a little bit of a hassle, meaning: he’ll be wearing gloves and will be visibly disgusted 😭 but you’re too out of it to notice anyway! The first day, you’re probably doing a lot of sleeping :( but he’ll sleep with you :D propped up with you on some pillow and just watches every movie you own! You probably can’t talk really good either that first day or two, which sucks because all Tony does it talk 😩 well, maybe it’s not so bad then? You also won’t be alone in having to eat things like Jello and pudding and mashed potatoes, because he’ll probably eat them too 😋 It kinda gives him an excuse to only eat vanilla pudding all day 😅 He can’t really help you feel any better besides being surprisingly on time for any medication, and while he promises to take you to your favorite restaurant as soon as you think you can eat real food (which is hopefully after the first week unless you’re like me, then it takes almost two 🙃), but that might kinda make it worse because it gets real boring only eating the few soft foods on that list 😭 And it’s frustrating honestly. Don’t feel bad about randomly crying when he brings you a cup of jello 😔 He’ll be like “wait, was that the wrong thing, I’m sorry 😰” and then he has to sit through your mini rant about being tired of feeling awful 😞 and there’s nothing he can do so he also feels awful 😞 But, at least you kinda have an excuse to sit in bed all week and watch movies or play games? Each day will feel a little better :)

Now older Tony, he’s been through a few surgeries, though it’s been years since this particular one. You can rest assured, at least, that you’ll have only the best doctors and best medical advice and stuff? Nah, it’s still stressful ^^;; Tony’s been through lots of surgeries, and he’ll assure you this is one of the easier and most routine ones! It’ll go fine! You won’t be able to eat normally for at least 5 or so days, so he’ll be sure to take you wherever you want to go the day or two before, too 😘 If you’re super freaked out, he’ll try his best leading up to it to avoid any mention of it unless necessary tbh. He’s suddenly around much more, trying to butt it on daily routines and work, chores or cooking, asking you’re opinion of blueprints or about vacation plans. But it’s pretty unavoidable when he’s driving you there :( He’ll ((technically)) be with you the entire time! He’ll be there when it’s done! It may not feel like it in the moment, but he was right when he said you’d literally be out of there within five minutes! Well, from your point of view anyway. You’re probably a little wobbly on your feet, and hopefully not trying to wriggle out of his guiding grip on your shoulders 😅 And sorry to tell you, while you won’t film it, he’ll purposefully be trying to get you to say ridiculous things and asking you all kinds of ridiculous questions 😔 And tell you all about as soon as you’re feeling better!

He made sure to buy all your favorite yogurts and he’ll even make some soups! Luckily he’s seen plenty of blood and had plenty of surgeries, so blood doesn’t bother him and he doesn’t mind having to help you clean up. And though you’re on bedrest for a few days (the surgery may just be in the mouth, but dental pain really takes out all your energy 😭), at least that means he (finally) has to take a break from work to spend all day with you 😁 though, it’d be better for both of you if you weren’t in pain and so over it :( He feels really bad that there’s not much he can do to help you feel better :( You may get a little snappy with him because you feel so bad, and he tries his best not to let it get him down 😔 But he’s still persistent in trying to find way to keep you entertained and keep your mind off of it (sorta). Puzzles, video games, napping as best he can with you- whatever helps! And when you start complaining about having to eat the same stuff all day, he’ll promise to pick up whatever you want as soon as you can eat better!

And either way, the biggest challenge for him is trying not to instinctively kiss your cheek before bed when your laying next to him 😭 those first few days everything hurts, and he hardly knows what a gentle peck is, so he’ll have to remember to swoop to your shoulder of top of your head that first week 😅

#anon #anonymous #answered #larstalks

[peppermintbits]

Fun life update blog while I work on art!

I need to get better at marketing myself as, a person, as well as a skill set. And sometimes I just have little thoughts or photos I think would be nice to share, but my Instagram is like my live-portfolio and Twitter feels like I may as well be talking into the void or just go to my various personal group chats since I'm so small there. I feel like doing tiny blog posts like this along with my art/writing stuff could be fun! Let's people see I have a personality.

First on the agenda: Yesterday I made peach syrup!

I've never made fruit syrup before and technically I was trying to make a compote (the peach I had had a yucky texture but I didn't want to waste ilit and things snowballed into me at the stove). I ended up accidentally making syrup correctly instead and just needed to read what to do after it had the right thickness. This was just one big peach so I only have half a jello mug but I might take the old apples in the fridge and make a bigger batch with them! Straining the mush after boiling it down was definitely the hardest part but it was soooo worth it. It will be going on my cheesecake later.

Next: At the end of June I attended the WGA East Coast strike picket at Netflix HQ. This was my favorite sign someone else made.

---------

Back to today, I counted all the change I'd saved in these little boxes since I started college and added it to the pile I've been saving in a separate box since I was 15, I can deposit $95.88 in change to my account now :D. 12 years of keeping my coin has finally added up to profit again haha.

People who throw away change confuse me. Yeah it's all the leftovers of bigger amounts but it's still money and it adds up over time. And it's so satisfying to see...When I actually deposit this I'll be a little sad tho, :( , I'll have to start at square one, 0, again. But having the money on hand instead of being a pile of coins will be worth it. I'll start fresh again with my empty change box(es) haha.

And finally: I saw this weevil earlier.

I just think he's neat, just a little guy.

I might draw a weevil today...

That's all for now! I will probably post more about the syrup/my dog later or lump them in with an art blog I'm doing tomorrow. I hope this wasn't too boring to read :3, thanks for stopping by.

#blog #blog post #life update #life upd8 #weevil #bugs #cooking #syrup #peach syrup #syrup making #writers strike #The Orca Army #orca uprising #wga strike 2023 #wga solidarity #Coins #savings

[nightmarefuele]

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty {{His Highness}}

Guilt?

❝Me?❞ Looking over one shoulder and then the other. Pretending there's a whole mob of goons there at his behest — woe, save your Clown Prince from the horrors of a bleak question !

(Nobody there.)

❝Well. I suh-pose. . . .❞ Looking, now, vaguely despondent; a sigh even goes so far as to tickle the dry bar breeze, if only to pep-up the stale premises. Here's where the real theatrics poke their dead heads. ❝Mayyy-be . . . there wAs this one time. An ice cream truck. . . . One'a those sing-song street-stops, and this one, well, she happened to frequent the neighborhood of my schoolboy days.❞

There's this redhead kid — well, he's a giant over little Joker, a ❛senior superior❜ in all so-ci-etal ❛sense.❜ So Ginger's got that chip on his shoulder he thinks is really just extra muscle, extra bite. Bite like the neighborhood dogs he hits, kicks, slams (big, small, mutts and all) 'cause he fancies himself this scary character. Maybe to pooches and wildlife he is. When he shuffles out half-toppled swirly cones, these real slushy affairs, he gives 'em with ugly side-grins (which work, somehow) at all the pretties and twice-ugly scowls at the littles; the pre-highs, the six years, the sevens, the eights. Behind their backs he calls the eights ❛reverse rates.❜

Ha-ha. (haha..heh.)

So when the little joke shows his face its all funnies and hoo-has (and not even wearing the makeup), the dustbunny of a senior football player with his jammies up in a twist over some-thing the Joker said, because apparently it's a crime to lay it out straight with a person and tell him his mommy's got lousy tongue work. ❛Man-to-man❜ or so they say, 'cause the next time Ginger comes a-rolling out in his diesel-powered milker it's Joker's house in his sights. He shimmies right out of that skinny door and keeps on going 'til he gets up to the . . .

❝. . . you know, house. Address. Place of re-si-dence. Where?❞ The top half of the clown's face inclines all that much higher. Forehead ghost-sheet white as ever — in fact it appears miles fresher than before. Coming from within, the red-and-black flairs glow. No room to picture a king; The Joker's got his spot.

Tricked out in that fine purple coat, good as signature, he looks royal as any of those British mugs.

So, ❝Not important,❞ naturally. Good as law, clown's word goes. ❝Who knows-ah, what kinda mail's been stuffin' up the box. Oh!, hmm,❞ animal's low growling, shark with painted teeth, ❝on thaat note. . . .❞

. . . where little Joker wasn't. See, he might go off to join the proverbial circus, but he was no jester and certainly not for prima-jock courts. By then he was already out with Gingerbread's ❛Nancy,❜ his sweet-sss, his ❛sugar.❜ And did I say our good boy's without his facepaint? I lie-d. 'Cause Nancy says she likes it, likes it a whole lot — and she's all too young for that Big Red anyway, so she doesn't mind (and he doesn't mind, the little joke) walking out on him, good and gone.

So that's when it happens, somehow; because nobody's home, little boy Joker's momma not around, and his father, well. . . . And so Ginger just busts on through, but he's forgotten not all dogs are little, and not all big dogs are mutts and poodles. This one'sa rottwei-ler, a whole tank for a breed, and plenty canon in that slavering maw.

(Did I mention the little joke for-got to feed him his evening chew?)

❝. . . Ended up replacing the poor fish. That ice cream scoop received a-uhh, a postal recommendation. I always did wonder if that's how it feeells — watching that sweet stuff melt.❞

He's looking over at her now, at Beth, and does she know what he's talking about? Unclear, of course, to which he refers: the fee-ling, strictly speaking, or the froyo itself. (Doesn't froyo deserve our empathy?)

A hum pinches at corner-mouth where scar serrates the divide between skin and slick. Pinches. Guilt-yy. Pinchy, gooey . . . thing. Lukewarm jello. Sorta . . . unsettled. Left out.

❝But you, here . . .❞ Makes a little clicking, tongue-and-teeth. King's coat a little less vivid now — darker colors, his curiosity. ❝You got something on yer mind-ah.❞

#brooklynislandgirl #{ THIS IS THE MOST FUN I'VE HAD WRITING EVER ??? WHAT ?!!?!1/ } #{ i am reborn <3 thanks to your lovely mind and its lovely ask ideas <3<3 } #|| ᴅɪᴇꜱᴇʟ ꜰᴜᴇʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍᴍᴏɴɪᴜᴍ ɴɪᴛʀᴀᴛᴇ #ᴠɪᴠᴀ ʟᴀ ᴄʟᴏᴡɴɪɴɢ #::𝕁ᴏᴋ𝓔ℝ #{ re. putting this in every joker tag because i love it and iT'sssss MY BLOg~ } #tw animal cruelty #tw mentions of abuse

[ryuzakemo128]

Stranger Things Incorrect Quotes Part Six

Part one / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven

Dividers Used: Link

Masterlist

Eddie, struggling to keep upright in his 1 inch heels: Yeah, I-I don’t really think heels are for me Marianna, pointing at him and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: WEAK.

Eddie: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise Marianna: I beg to differ Eddie: Then Beg

Eddie: This is bothering me. Marianna: Well, you are digging up a corpse. Eddie: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

Eddie: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday Marianna: Wednesay Eddie: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

Eddie: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Marianna: Marianna: Eddie, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Eddie: *Sips coffee from a bowl*

Eddie: Marianna and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- Marianna: Sentences. Eddie: Don't interrupt me.

Eddie, trying to cheer the group up: Things could be worse, you know! Marianna: How? Eddie: How what? Marianna: How could they be worse? Eddie: They couldn’t, I lied. Marianna:

Eddie: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor. Marianna: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Eddie: This is such a bad idea. Marianna: Then why are you coming along? Eddie: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Eddie: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword. Marianna: That's why I carry two swords.

Eddie: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Marianna: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Eddie: We need a distraction. Marianna: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Steve, whispering: My time has come

*Eddie and Marianna sitting in jail together* Marianna: So who should we call? Eddie: I’d call Steve, but I feel safer in jail

Eddie: Hey Marianna, Marianna: Yes? Eddie: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on? Marianna: Marianna: Where’s Steve?

Eddie: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? Marianna: The car takes a screenshot. Steve: For the last time, get the fuck out.

Eddie: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Marianna does? I mean, what if she jumped off a cliff? Steve: If Marianna were to jump off a cliff, she would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Marianna jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Eddie: You jump off a cliff! Steve: Gladly. Provided Marianna did first.

Eddie: WHY. why did you give Steve a KNIFE?! Marianna: I’m sorry. He said he felt unsafe. Eddie: Now I feel unsafe! Marianna: I’m sorry. Marianna: ... would you like a knife?

Eddie, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career! Marianna, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids Steve: what the fuck are you guys doing? Eddie: playing systemic oppression

Eddie, texting Marianna: Marianna! Help I’m being kidnapped Steve: Where are you? Eddie: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help. Marianna: I’ll call Steve. Steve, answering their cell: Y’ello? Marianna: Where’s Eddie? He texted me that he was being kidnapped. Steve: Eddie? Whaddya mean, he's right next to me- Steve: Steve: I’ll call you back. *hangs up* Steve: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD! Eddie: WHO ARE YOU?!

Eddie: Marianna and I don’t use pet names. Steve: I see. Hey, what do bees make? Eddie: Honey? Marianna: Yes, dear? Eddie: Steve: Don't ever lie to my face again.

Eddie: Marianna and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us Steve: *Sighing* What did Marianna do? Eddie: She chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and... Marianna: *out of breath* Who wants a steering wheel?

Eddie, trying to ask Marianna out: Would you like to stay for dinner? Steve: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

Eddie: What do you think Marianna will do for a distraction? Steve: probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do. *Building explodes and several car alarms go off* Steve: ... or she could do that.

Store Worker: Would a Mr. Eddie please come to the front desk? Eddie, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Marianna and Steve Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Marianna and Steve, simultaneously: We got lost :( Eddie: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Eddie: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness. Marianna: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you. Steve: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Eddie: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth? Marianna: You’re a hazard to society Steve: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

Eddie: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death? Marianna: How am I supposed to know? Steve: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult. Marianna: *sighs* Marianna: You wouldn't be trapped.

Eddie, driving Marianna and Steve: So how was your day? Marianna: We almost got surprise adopted! Eddie: What? Steve: We almost got kidnapped. Eddie: Oh, okay. Eddie: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

#Stranger Things #stranger things #Stranger Things Incorrect Quotes #stranger things incorrect quotes #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Marianna (Female Reader) #Marianna Sokolova (Female Reader) #Eddie Munson x Female Reader #Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader #Eddie Munson x F! Reader #Eddie Munson x F! Reader x Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson x Female Reader x Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader x Steve Harrington #Incorrect Quotes #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Imagine #Drabble #Stranger Things Drabble #Stranger Things Imagine #Stranger Things Fanfiction #Stranger Things Fanfic

[silly-solar-robot]

👉👈 Hello Sunny I know we haven't talked like ever but I wanted to drop by and share some pretty flowers I think you might like :D

Daylilies!!! The first time I saw them in person I thought they looked like the flower from Tangled :0

Calendulas!!! I dont know much about them but they're really pretty and fluffy looking :]

Yellow/orange chrysanthemums!! These are some of my favorite personally, they grow in the big bushes like this and jiggle like jello when they're bumped :D

ohhh my GOSH those are beautiful!!!!! you’re right, the first one has an uncanny resemblance to the tangled flower!!! thank you so so SO much for sharing, these are gobsmackingly gorgeous and are sure to brighten up my blog!!!

#internally i am placing them in a vase on the windowsill of my blog!!! externally i am wishing i could put them on a cake….. #THANK YOU!! <333 (^: #sunny’s asks #also golly.. it’s super duper nice to meet ya!! :^D

[unhingedtiktoks]

Description: Tiktok from user fmarrywill. A white man with short brown hair plays four different characters, a person wearing a shirt that says "snail mail" (the leader of the Golden Corral board), a person wearing a shirt that says "señor frog's" (I will call him Frog), a person wearing a shirt that says "Adam Sandler deserved an Oscar for Uncut Gems" (James), and a person wearing a light grey hoodie (I will call him Hoodie).

Leader: Gold evening, Golden Corral board members!

Everyone else says "gold evening."

Leader: As I'm sure you're all aware, Golden Corral has been struggling to make ends meet recently and also for the past ten to fifteen years. So I called this meeting to brainstorm some ideas to help Golden Corral out of the F tier of buffet style chain restaurants, and back into the D tier where Golden Corral really belongs. So pitch away.

James: (raises his hand) Ooh! What if we served real food?

Leader: Not financially possible.

Frog: What if we disclose what our pizza is and where it comes from?

Leader: Not a bad idea, but also not possible because we don't know.

Hoodie: Maybe we could turn the rats into attractions. I mean, people would pay to see them if we put cute little hats on them.

James: What if we stayed open 24 hours like Waffle House or public pools?

Leader: No. Imagine the type of person who would willingly go to Golden Corral at two in the morning. We'd turn into a sex dungeon.

James: Maybe that'd be a good rebrand?

Hoodie: What if we had a Golden Corral mascot? Like a clown!

Frog: (already putting on clown shoes) I like that idea!

Leader: Take it off. Guys, let's be serious here. Good ideas only. James, one word idea. Go.

James: Asbestos!

Leader: No.

Hoodie: What if we run a new series of commercials?

Leader: Okay, that's a real idea! Speak on that.

Hoodie: Okay so a couple walks into a Golden Corral. The wife is having a hard time choosing which color of jello looks least disgusting to her. She hears a voice call out from behind her. "They all taste like medicine!" This isn't her husband's voice. She's shocked and afraid. She turns around slowly and full of fear. Then the big reveal. It's a clown!

Frog: (wearing a clown wig) That's a good idea!

Leader: I'm gonna go insane.

James: We could start serving Warhead water!

Leader: Warhead water?

James: Yeah, Warhead water! You take a big bag of Warheads, the sour candy, and you dump them into a big cup of water until it all dissolves and then you drink it. It's really good!

Leader: Alright James, you're done with ideas.

James: Damn, I was just about to suggest we give customers a more hands on dining experience.

Leader: Alright, you're back in with ideas. Elaborate.

James: Well, if the customer orders a steak, we bring them a live cow and we have them slaughter it-

Leader: Ok you're done with ideas again.

Frog: We could change the Golden Corral uniform to be... I don't know, maybe a little brighter? Maybe a little more attention grabbing?

Hoodie: (snaps) Like a clown outfit!

Frog: (wearing a clown outfit) Yeah, exactly!

Leader: Ok, what is your guys's deal with the clowns right now?

Frog: Look, we spent like 150 dollars on this, we're gonna get our money's worth.

Leader: Why did you spend that much on a clown costume?

Frog and Hoodie in unison: We thought it'd make a cool outfit!

James: It kinda does!

Leader: You're all fired.

#tiktok #rat #golden corral