#✨pin worms✨

[storeecbrcod]

MWIII: Soap’s Nautilus Skin

Hear me out!

I’ve been told that Warzone is technically connected to the canon campaign, loosely, hence why everyone was really confused when Soap got his new Nautilus skin. He’s supposed to be dead, he shouldn’t be getting new legit-looking skins, at least not so soon after the campaign.

But, for the sake of my brainworm (that I know I share with others, shh), let’s assume Soap’s nautilus skin means he’s alive somehow. Let’s do some study (courtesy @ave661, doing god’s work for us ty):

Look at my pretty boy! Mask, gas tanks, and cool ass details, yeah? Just an awesome skin.

Let me put way too much detail and thought into this in the form of a ‘quick’ ficlet.

TW: canon-typical violence, medical settings, mentions of terrorism, mentions of torture/brainwashing. TLDR at the end :)

The 141 had been distracted as of late, chasing around a group of slippery but deadly terrorists that had made it their fucking mission to make the task force trip over them. Nobody was sure if they were intentional red herrings from Makarov, or just another rising force amongst disgruntled people that turned to violence to be heard. Either way, it was starting to really grate on everyone’s nerves, having to put the hunt for Makarov aside to deal with a new threat every other week, one too big and too elaborate for local defence departments to handle alone without the 141’s experience.

Because it was always the same elusive cunts fucking something up. Killing someone they shouldn’t have, intercepting deals and creating unrest amongst major crime rings around the world and sparking unrest through their deep, wide-spread roots. The team knew well how a small conflict could snowball into a wide-scale war, and it felt like they were preventing one every time there was a report of soldiers in black, glowing green tech with a hazy green tint to their eyes.

Price could see the way his team (3’s still a crowd, right?) was starting to grow restless with the near constant pull from their goal of finding Makarov, especially Ghost. He grew more distant by the day, getting more and more ruthless out field, reminding Price of his early days on the Task Force. Whether they liked it or not, Makarov had diminished forces right now, and he was not as much threat as—

“Fuck, Gaz, watch out!”

Another explosion went off, knocking Price and Gaz to the ground, their breath stolen as they tried to clamber back up to move out of range of fire. It felt like it was coming from everywhere, relentless, chaotic. The thudding of Price’s heart was the only thing that gave him rhythm, guidance on how to react and when and why. He pulled his sergeant to cover behind some stacked crates and dropping, continuing to heave through his strict chest.

This was the closest they’d gotten to the fuckers, never managing to see more than a glimpse of these skilled soldiers before. They gave them a run for their money, Price had admitted sourly many a time. They were legends on each base they travelled to now, infamous for how hard they were to catch, even for the equally infamous 141.

But now, they were close. It was eerie watching these people, almost robotic in their execution, unwavering, unafraid. They’d run into active fire if it meant they had a decent chance to advance and catch someone off guard. And somehow, they managed to get away, every damn time. They seemed to not register pain, either, if the way the one woman soldier continued to walk around despite her obviously broken leg was anything to go by.

They were like zombies, and it was deeply unsettling.

As far as Price could tell, there were two hostiles running around above them through the catwalks of the hangar they were currently pinned in. They were trying to pick shots, but they’d shoot their direction randomly as well, making it that much harder to predict when it was safe to poke their heads out to see if they even had a chance of running out.

“Ghost, where the fuck are you?” Price growled into his comms. The other man had been radio silent for almost half an hour now, ever since this stupid cat and mouse game started. They’d come in here to chase the bastards down, yet somehow his team were the ones being chased. It was beyond irritating, and it was also putting them in unreasonable danger.

“Cap!”

Gaz’s sudden yell had Price’s head on a swivel, following the man’s gaze to above them. Somehow, the third soldier of the little trio had managed to flank them, looking down at them from another isolated catwalk.

How Price neglected to watch their six, he didn’t know.

All he knew was there was a barrel of a rifle pointed straight at them from 10 metres up.

Within milliseconds, he knew three things; one, he wouldn’t be able to move Gaz and himself out of the firing line without making themselves vulnerable to the other hostiles. Two, any move they made now had them killed. And three…

Makarov was behind these soldiers.

Because who else would make their most deadly soldier, the most aggressive of the trio, the one that risked his life even more than his teammates, the one who seemed to hold easy leadership over the others—

Who else would shave their best soldier’s head into a mohawk, if not to taunt them?

Before he could even think to shield Gaz, pull him to his chest in a last-ditch effort to protect him in the hope that someone would get back home to tell their story, a dark blur slammed into the back of the soldier above, sending his rifle clattering to the floor. It was almost surreal, watching the mohawk’d soldier struggle against darkness, the occasional flash of stark white dancing around him.

Fists were exchanged. Bullets were sprayed towards them sporadically, but too out of range to hit accurately. The short barrier of the catwalk bit into the soldier’s lower back, starting to dangerously teeter further and further over it.

The rifle’s impact to the concrete hadn’t even finished echoing around the hangar when Price watched two figures tumble from the catwalk, grappling in the air. A sickening thud followed, the two bodies rolling with each other, parting and leaving one still on the ground while the other heaved on his hands and knees.

The moment of stunned silence seemed to hang forever, though it was only a second in reality. The gunfire had stopped, two sets of footsteps echoing down the corridors away from them. It left Price’s team, Gaz frozen and Ghost shaking with adrenaline, with an unconscious soldier.

Ghost crawled over to the body first, followed by Price standing over him. His veins were molten in rage, scorned again by the sight of his closest soldier posed over an unmoving soldier with a mohawk.

Fuck, they even got his eyebrow scar. I wonder what they did to create that?

Unlike last time, though, a muffled groan left the man on the ground, the body shifting slightly uncomfortably. His eyes (blue… what the fuck?) fluttered open, blinking away the confusion that likely fogged his mind. He breathed in, deep and full—

Even Price flinched at how fast the soldier’s hands came up to grasp at his mask, gasping, choking behind it, clawing desperately at a crack that spanned the left side of it. Blue eyes lit up with desperation, legs coming up to kick uselessly at the ground, back contracting as if in pain.

Reacting as a unit, Gaz moved forward to hold the soldier’s legs down, Price grabbing the man’s vest and forcing him down with all his might, Ghost grabbing his arms, forcing one to his side for Price to pin under his knees and holding the other one down. Even with three people on him, the soldier put up a good fight, even though it seemed like it was out of panic more than resistance.

Ghost grabbed the mask, struggling with the release catches that seemed to be stitched into the side of the man’s head, unable to get them loose. With a growl, he shuffled to force the soldier’s other arm down with his own leg, grabbing his throwing knife and carefully shucking it into the stuck lip of the release. He hit the butt of his knife, hearing the catch pop open before forcing the soldier’s head to the side and repeating the action.

The soldier only seemed to fight harder, turning his head away frantically as Ghost tried to yank the mask off. Despite having three people on him, he still managed to jostle them, pulling his hand out from under Ghost and earning himself a painful twist of the wrist.

“Ghost…”

“Stay still, fucker—”

With a final tug, the cracked mask is thrown from the soldier’s face, and it only makes the man thrash harder. His gasps for air are no longer muffled, the painful choking and heaves bouncing off the tall walls around them, surrounding them as they tried to hold him down.

It isn’t until his body tenses up completely, lips going blue that Price is finally able to get a proper look at the soldier’s face, and once again time stands still.

Those damn blue eyes stared up at Ghost, not breaking eye contact, and Price could swear he feels each of Ghost’s muscles tense up individually, his breathing stop alongside the body beneath them. The crude scar that dissected through the man’s chin was on full display, and he thinks he hears Gaz gasp beside him, his eyes glancing between the man’s face and Price’s own.

The soldier’s head was turned towards Ghost just enough to reveal the edge of the left side of his hairline, where a fading but ugly scar puckered right along his temple.

Price doesn’t stop Ghost from getting up and walking away once the man on the ground falls unconscious, his heart rate slow and his breaths returning even slower, but returning nonetheless.

Price doesn’t stop Gaz moving to take Ghost’s place, grabbing the body’s face so firmly yet so delicately, moving it back and forth as if to check he was real.

Price doesn’t react with anger when Laswell is silent on the other side of the radio, nor does he answer any questions except to insist on an emergency evac for their ‘prisoner’.

Price doesn’t do anything, except recite the paperwork they’d filed just two years ago, fixing it in his head over and over to come to terms.

John “Soap” MacTavish: KIA ALIVE

——————————————————————————

“This is fucking insane, even for Makarov.”

Nobody discounted Gaz’s observation, all just staring through the glass into the guarded hospital room holding John fucking MacTavish, lying still while tubes breathed for his sedated body. Well, all except Ghost.

They hadn’t seen Ghost in days.

Funnily enough, Nikolai had gone radio silent around the same time, too.

Hm.

Even Laswell had made her way over from her most recent post, vowing to lead the investigative efforts into Soap’s condition. The good thing was, he was relatively unscathed. Littered with new scars, sure. Aggressive and unforthcoming with even attempting to remember any of them, that too. Oh, yeah, and his body tries to shut down every time they take him off of the highest dose of anaesthetics, and nobody knows why, and he can’t tell them why.

Price has a headache.

“John.”

Price, Gaz, and the few medics with them all turned as Laswell approached, and their reaction was immediate. They all seemed to see the gravity in her features, sense the density of what she had to say on her tongue. Her frustration and worry was palpable, in her own stone-cold way.

Price hasn’t seen her like this since… well, ever. It didn’t invoke him with much confidence.

“We finally got the toxicology results back for the gas in the tanks,” she stated, though she didn’t offer the paperwork in her hands. Actually, she gripped the package with white knuckles. Another action that made Price even less confident this news was going to be anywhere near pleasant.

“And?”

“He’s developed a non-lethal strain of Nova gas.”

Silence. Pure silence. Disbelief? Bewilderment? Surprise? Who fucking knows. But they were silent.

“Nobody’s sure how it works just yet,” Laswell continues curtly, looking to Soap’s body through the window. “But it’s a pretty strong theory as to why Sergeant MacTavish was acting so…”

“Zombie-like?” Gaz offers, an interruption met with Laswell pursing her lips for a moment.

“I’d prefer another word, but if it fits.”

Quiet befalls them all again, Price scratching at his beard in an attempt to dispel the twisting mess of anger, worry and confusion. It’s been hard, trying to continue applying pressure to Makarov while they’re a Lieutenant down and distracted by an old teammate basically raised from the dead.

“We managed to extract some files from a hard drive found in one of Makarov’s bogus operation suites,” Laswell continued, looking back to John with more concern than before, really not helping on the confidence front. “I have people combing through them, though a lot of them are encrypted so thoroughly they’ll take days to decode. However, there are a few bits and pieces of jumbled reports, seemingly test experiments involving the new strain. The only new information we have at this point is how they acclimatise their patients to the gas.”

“Acclimatise?” John repeated, gruff with restrained emotion. Leadership and professionalism was always important, but right now, he couldn’t care less about seeming totally calm.

“Yes, acclimatise,” it sounded barbaric with the way she said it, like it was glimpse into what it meant. “They’d place the test subjects into gas chambers, restrained, and flood the chamber with the gas. Somehow the body adapts to rely on the gas as air after rigorous training.”

“Torture through suffocation more like,” Gaz grumbled, glancing between Price and Laswell, whose jaw ticked.

“Apparently, the gas is most effective when the patient is fully reliant,” she added, then shrugged. “Effective in what way, the team has no clue. Though they’re pretty confident it’s the efficacy to reduce cognition enough to lose the ability to do anything without outside influence.”

“Like a damn personal attack dog,” Price growled.

A beat of silence lingered, everyone in the room trying to comprehend how this would affect Soap’s recovery. If he could recover at all.

“So that’s why he acts like he’s suffocating when he’s conscious?” Gaz inquired. “Because he is?”

“We can only assume so.”

“This is so fucked up,” Gaz whispered, linking his hands behind his head and looking to Soap again. It was like some movie bullshit, the impossible becoming possible but without the safety of being in your living room. Watching a tornado head your way when you’re in the middle of a damn field. Absolutely impossible to comprehend, yet happening anyway, beyond your control.

“We’re going to see if keeping him sedated and letting his body recover from what could be years of exposure will reverse the effects of the chemical,” Laswell said slowly, but interrupted herself with a sigh, looking to Price earnestly.

Price thinks he sees his last sliver of confidence drift off in the breeze of the ventilation.

“We also have to consider his supposedly lethal GSW,” she slowly continues, shuffling where she stood. “We can only assume the parts of his brain responsible for memory, speech, thought processing was impaired with the injury.”

“There’s a chance nothing will change because his injury could have destroyed his ability to reason and remember before the gas,” a medic speaks up, putting the dots together quickly in her head and turning to Price, brow etched with concern. “There’s a very small possibility he will recover completely, or even to the point of independence.”

Price shared a look with Gaz, then the medics, and finally Laswell again. The words stuck in his chest, resistant to the idea of speaking something into being.

“We might not get Johnny back at all.”

——————————————————————————

…soooo :3

TLDR: Makarov has developed a new strain of gas, which he uses to suppress the cognitive reasoning in those that breathe it in, and allows him to train them into his cute lil super soldiers. The reason for the gas masks and everything? The soldier becomes reliant on it, their body adapting to rely on it fully like oxygen, otherwise they feel like they’re suffocating, hence needing to have it everywhere they go.

I know it’s very winter soldier, but to be honest it would make the most sense to me if Soap’s survival becomes canon. It rolls a few pre-MWIII theories into one; Soap ‘dies’ (canon), Soap is the traitor, and Soap is brainwashed by Makarov. It would be so interesting imo, and if they don’t take it I WILL RIOT—

Anywayyyy… I have vague explanations for things, i.e spreading his ashes that could totally work (with a little bit of narrative bending ✨) but I ain’t gonna go into it here and now. I could though…

Also, I know Nova gas isn’t what the gas is called, that it’s a similar thing from a grenade in the game. But fucking sue me, I’m not gonna make Laswell say “he’s developed a new strain of Unspecified Chemical Gas” like it’s some 13 year old’s Garage Band song they forgot about. Chill. It even says on the (totally very reliable) wiki that the closest thing is Nova gas, seeing as it’s the EXACT SAME except players who inhale it don’t cough. Stay back, Call Of Duty purists!! 🤺💨

[omega-e123]

Hey! Welcome in.

Keep good vibes around here, yeah? If the content isn't your cup of tea, kindly walk towards the exit, please. There are other pockets of space that will be to your liking! Venturing further, you may come across NSFW.

If you are a minor, please do not interact with my NSFW or be inappropriate.

Feel free to talk to me in my inbox! Whether it be sending in headcanons, gushing about Shadow, or or even saying “hello”, I'm all ears. ⁂ Do note I'm not one to take "requests". (they will most likely be deleted) ⁂ Answered ask tags: #➺ inbox , #➺ anon , #➺ [user] , ➺ inbox imagines (Imagines from you guys!)

Unrelated posts tag: #• the void speaks

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ───

✧.* Reader is usually written as a Mobian in mind, but can be read as human. Gender neutral.

✨: New 🐾: Explicitly Mobian

Masterlist:

Updated: 1/16/2025

𓆩⟡𓆪 Fics

✦ ... And He Chaos Controlled Away Not the best way to reveal your affection. A Week Before || The Incident || Conclusion

✦ Just One More Craving a proper kiss from him

✦ Joyride How is he picking you up for your date?

✦ Hesitation !! NSFW !! Suggestive. You've never gone past kissing, why? Suggestive

✦ Kabedon Exactly as stated. He pins you.

✦ Head Over Heals CW: Blood Mention You injure yourself trying on air shoes.

✦ In a Rut !! NSFW !! Smut. Being part hedgehog has its.. complications. Annual complications. Odd Behavior || Restraint || Indulgence || Adoration

✦ Aftercare When it becomes to much, “Chaos” is the safe word

✦ Comforting You had a rough day and he has the remedy to make it better

✦ Medicine Cabinet Shadow has his own little pharmacy at home

✦ Aboard the Ark You got sick and Shadow decides to bring you up to his previous home.

✦ One Too Many CW: Alcohol, Drunk You partied a little too hard and now it's time to go home.

✦ The Shadow Bakery 🐾 Sometimes the basic instincts of a cat can't be beat.

✦ Trouble ✨ Face the consequences of your actions

✦ Unwombing Day ✨Despite Shadow's best efforts, nothing has gone right. Luckily you have a few things in mind

𓆩⟡𓆪 Headcanons

✫ Physical Contact

✫ Jealousy

✫ Royal Forbidden Love Lancelot!Shadow

✫ When You’re Sick

✫ The Winter Season

✫ Vampire!Shadow w/ @aelondrias

✫ Allergies

✫ Chronic headaches

✫ Trypanophobia (Fear of Needles)

✫ Shark Week

✫ Nightmare

✫ Birth Control During Rut !! NSFW !! Suggestive

✫ Perfect Present For You

✫ Misc. Anon

✫ Identification Tag ✨

✫ Post-it Notes ✨

✫ The Inhibitor Rings Stay On !! NSFW !! Suggestive ✨

𓆩⟡𓆪 Minis

𓇻 Play Wresting

𓇻 Protecting you

𓇻 Chew Toy

𓇻 Softness of Your Hands

𓇻 His Tail

𓇻 First Time Affection

𓇻 Losing you

𓇻 Blood Transfusion

𓇻 The Ultimate…

𓇻 From behind !! NSFW !! Smut 🐾

𓇻 Grinding !! NSFW !! Smut

𓇻 Anxiety Attack

𓇻 Blood test

𓇻 Love Sick

𓇻 Grooming his Chest 🐾

𓇻 Worm ✨

𓆩⟡𓆪 Misc.

⋆ Who is Shadow? Mini personality analysis ig

⋆ Scenario Submission Black Doom / Mephiles threatening Shadow they'll hurt you by @aelondrias

⋆ Reincarnation (Not ship) What if Shadow found Maria again?

[ultrainfinitepit]

Angelology IV: Angels of Extinction pins ✨ Backers, stay tuned for an update soon! If you missed the campaign and are waiting for leftovers, keep an eye out for an announcement when they are available.

Guest designs by @royarach @raphdoods @palossssssand @vile-worm

[verodoodles]

🌈🎪The circus is in town!!🎈✨

Hello hello! My cute clay pins are officially open for grabs!🌈🌼✨

If you see a pal you’d like, please comment below or dm me and we’ll go from there! All pins are $26 (sweaters are $30) and include free s&h / US only!✨

I only have 4 pins of each design so act fast! ���

Here’s what’s up for grabs!

• Piero the puppy clown 🐶🎪✨

• Noodle the Party Worm 🪱🎈

• Lil Dexter Worm❤️💛💙

• Clown Cloud🌈☁️

• Little Rock Star ⭐️🌈✨

• Wizard Frogs ✨Fern & Fran✨

• Rainbow Daisy Sweater 🌈🌼

[undercovergamer]

❤️Squirmy Worm❤️

⚠️This fic focuses mainly on tickling. Please do not read it if that upsets you.⚠️

Yes I’m postponing my only requests to make a fic on a whim, so what? It’s my blog and I don’t get to choose my whims ✨🐊✨ just know, anon, they’re definitely in the works and have many words written, I just need to write more and proof read and so on. sorry for taking so long 🐀 I was depressed but I recovered 👍👍👍

anyways have this bite sized fic :3

Word Count: 890

Sometimes, when there’s nothing else to do, Gorou will seek out Itto to spend time with him. Usually they play some silly games, but this time they chose to snuggle, all nice and toasty in their cozy bed. Sometimes they would ask each other silly questions as a way to bond. It was a fun activity, and a real nice way to spend time together.

“Itto…?” Gorou laid snuggled up next to his lover, hugging him from the side while his head rested on his chest.

“Mm? What’s up, pup?” Itto smiled and gently squeezed him closer, nuzzling his cheek against the warrior’s head. The soft hair felt so nice brushed up against him like that.

“Mm… would you still love me if I was a worm?” Gorou asked with sincerity, glancing up at his partner’s surprised look. He was only joking around for funsies.

“Pfft, what? Of course I would, ya goober! I’ll love you no matter what!” Itto exclaimed, chuckling at such a silly question.

“Hehe~ really? Even if I was a slimey worm? Wouldn’t that be gross?” Gorou asked, grinning playfully as Itto adjusted his position.

“Yeah… heh, bet I could turn ya into a worm right now~ hahaha!” Itto teased, moving to hover over his partner with a mischievous look.

“Hahaha! How would you do that, hm?” Gorou chuckled when he got rolled to his back as a result, smiling at the oni while wagging his tail.

“Oh, just you wait. I’ll turn you into my favorite kind~” Itto teased, sticking the tip of his tongue out in a silly expression.

“Mhm? Heh… I-I hope you don’t mean the slimey one…” Gorou’s ears lowered nervously.

“Nah, it’s not... it’s a different one!”

“Huh? Wh-! Hey!” His relief was short-lived.

Itto snickered and grabbed the blanket, attempting to wrap Gorou up in it, but the canine had other plans and put up a fight instead, squirming and trying to wrestle his way out while laughing with amusement.

“C’mon! Co-operate, will ya? Hold still!” Itto complained, pinning the other down against the bed.

“Ack-! Let me go! Hahahaha!” Gorou laughed, having fun with their silly game even though he failed to escape.

“Ah, what the heck…” Itto dropped his previous plan and simply raised Gorou’s arms above his head, gently, but firmly, holding his wrists down with one hand.

“H-Heh…! Whoa, w-wait!! What are you doinnggg??” Gorou questioned nervously, giggling already as his shirt slipped up a little. His ears twitched and his tail wiggled with excitement…

“Heh~ Who’s my little squirmy worm?” Itto didn’t answer his question, deciding to tickle without warning instead, which made the general squeal loudly.

“EEK!! NahahahAHAHAH!! Stahahahahahahap!!” He exclaimed with surprise, squirming around like crazy. Itto laughed, tickling the other’s armpits one at a time, switching between them to make him squeal and wriggle in different directions.

“Ooh, look at you go! Hahaha! Tickle tickle tickle~” the oni teased, letting go of Gorou’s wrists to tickle his sides with both hands instead. If he hadn’t switched it up, the poor boy would’ve suffered. “Tickle tickle~!” Still, all that teasing was driving him up the wall.

“Nahahahahahaha!! Nahahat thahahahahat!!” Gorou’s high pitched laughter spread throughout the room as he wiggled and flailed, free to move wherever he could since Itto wasn’t sitting on his legs this time. He usually doesn’t, anyway, since Gorou is short (lol).

“Hahaha! You’re so cute~ I love your little giggles so much…” Itto said lovingly, smiling at the other with pure adoration on his face as his tickling slowed, his nails gently tracing the tummy under the canine’s shirt.

“Eheheeheheheehee!! You’re sohohoho mehehehean!!” Gorou hid his face in his hands, giggling up a storm while happily wagging his tail. Even though the sensation was very, very ticklish, he found the softness of it comforting somehow.

“Heheh! You love it~” Itto said, moving one hand to pet Gorou’s head and play with his hair.

“Eehehehehehehee~!!”

“Who’s a good boy~? Who’s a good boy~??” Itto ruffled Gorou’s hair, pausing the tickling to rub his ears with both hands instead.

“Mhmhmhm~ hehehehe~! I-I am! Hehe…!” Gorou felt very brave for answering that. Usually he’d die of embarrassment…

“Oh yes you are! Yes you are! Oh, you’re so cute…” Itto struggled to contain his cute aggression, ruffling the other’s hair some more before growling and tickling him silly. “I just can’t contain myself! You’re way too adorable not to destroy!” he exclaimed, playfully scribbling at whichever spot he could reach, adoring each and every squeak, shriek, and hysterical laugh he got out of the other.

The tickling went on til Gorou’s squirms got less frequent, and they resumed their warm snuggles soon after. Gorou laid on top of Itto, resting his head against his chest as if it were a pillow. His cheeks were rosy, his tail was wagging gently, and his smile hadn’t left his face while he panted.

“Heh… ehehe… huff… hehe…” He’d had a lot of fun, now resting after so much silliness and laughter.

“I love you, my lil’ squirmy wormy~” Itto teased, adjusting their blanket and hugging his darling close, petting his fluffy hair and ears.

“Heheh! I-I love you too… but don’t call me that!” Oh, how he wish he could get proper payback for once… Perhaps that day would come soon.

One can only hope…

[running-tweezers]

✨Meet Harper✨

Harper is my new Official Redactedsona. A fair bit of her is based on both me now and me when I was her age. She’s the cringe theater kid that lives in my soul and I love her like a daughter now.

More About Harper Under the Cut!

- Born and raised in Dahlia to a Sonal Energetic dad and an Unempowered mom.

- Her dad was in a band that had a huge one hit wonder in the 90’s. They moved from Mont Blanc to Dahlia to try and further their career but never had the same amount of success again. He still makes music and has always encouraged Harper’s desire to perform.

- Her mom has an indie fashion brand and on occasion works as a personal stylist. She met Harper’s dad when his band did a photoshoot for the magazine where she was interning. She taught Harper to sew and instilled her with a love of DIY fashion.

- Harper has loved music and being on stage since she was a kid. Her parents tell her she was singing before she could talk. After years of staging elaborate living room performances for them, they signed her up for a children’s theater camp and she fell in love instantly.

- Because her mother was unempowered, no one was sure if she would end up inheriting her dad’s powers. But they ended up manifesting on accident when she was 13, when she sang the final riff of Defying Gravity and busted out all the windows in her room. Her dad had never been so proud.

- She has a belt that if unrestrained could blast everyone out of their seats. They actively have to NOT give her a mic.

- Some of her favorite roles she’s ever played were Princess Winnifred in Once Upon A Matress, Annie Oakley in Annie Get Your Gun, and Elle Woods in Legally Blonde

- She’s been known to push herself way too hard in pursuit of perfection. She’s camped in practice rooms for hours at a time, using her powers to silence the sound of her voice to others so no one can hear her mistakes or know how long she’s been at it.

- She loves making her own clothes and flipping old thrift store items into new fun pieces. Her pride and joy is her dad’s old leather jacket she successfully dyed purple and covered in patches and pins.

- She has a huge collection of strange earrings. Rubber ducks? Troll dolls? Worm on a string? Balloon animals? Tiny dinosaurs? They can all be found hanging from her ears.

- She often tells people that she’s no longer allowed in the Dahlia Denny’s after the quote “Shrek Cast Party Incident”. They think she’s joking. She’s not.

[diodellet]

no, i'd rather pretend: omake

(jamil viper x g/n reader, just plain comfort and shameless self-indulgence. i'm not saying that every emotional moment has to end in happiness/laughter but i like to think that it's still worth finding levity in most situations alongside trying to move forward.) link to the fic if u'd like context

When your emotions have calmed down, you spend a few more minutes together with Jamil. A comfortable silence falling over the both of you.

Until you chose to stand. No you don't ask for help, because at least standing on your own two feet, that you can do.

Cue ✨TV static✨ shooting up your legs.

"Oh...wait, wait a minute. Give me a sec."

"You're having pins and needles, aren't you?"

"...N, No I'm not...No, don't do that!" Your protests go unheard as Jamil lightly nudges the side of your leg with his foot.

You screech and brace one hand against the wall, stumbling away from Jamil with an awkward hobble.

You shoot him a (pitiful attempt at a) withering glare. "I told you to give me a sec!"

In place of his tender gaze is a mischievous grin. "I would have helped you up... if you told me," Jamil says through barely-restrained snickers.

You can only frown at him in response, which sends him further along his laughing fit. Figures, you should've expected this. There truly was no letting your guard down around this guy.

He apologizes and offers to make you a pick-me-up snack in the kitchens.

But you can't let him off the hook just yet. A half-baked revenge plan forms in your mind.

When he takes your hand once again, you feign stumbling forwards a second time, letting him catch the full weight of your body with a grunt.

"Ha! Karma!"

"I could just drop you, you know?"

"Ah, but you wouldn't! ...would you?"

Just when things lightened up, doubt always found a way to worm itself into your words. It sucked.

"Do I even need to answer that?" His finger prods against your forehead. "Come on."

(Besides, having his pinky linked with yours as you follow him to the kitchen was enough to quiet that thought.)

[messitydepressity]

New Fic posted! The adult(ish) Ellie addiction Fic that approximately three people wanted ✨

This Fic comes stacked with warnings for addiction, drug use, mentions of past rape, and self harm.

Please mind the tags.

Here’s a snippy of the first chapter for you!

—

It could all go away, fade into the background if she let it.

The bell-like laughter ringing in her ears, the rich brown skin stained into the inside of her eyelids, and the tickle of tiny braids that still make the skin of her collarbone prickle from the last time Riley had leaned over her.

Those last few good days together stand out more than any of her nightmares today.

They make her more panicked than the bad dreams.

One good high, and she could let go - leave reality behind for a while, or maybe for good.

Breathing as though she's just run a marathon, she slams the door in Dawn's face and paces the small nine-by-nine room. Hands tearing at the roots of her hair, she counts backward from a hundred, trying to shove the worms back into the can that just got ripped open in the doorway of her room.

It doesn't work.

Neither does the cold shower she takes, the water frigid enough in late October to come pumping out of the well icy and painful, making her nail beds turn lavender and her lips tint blue.

Or the Bobby pin she shoves into the tender skin of her upper thigh, the rubbery ends pulled off to expose the sharp metal beneath. Blood wells from the small puncture it makes, the wound aching and burning - the pain sharp.

She breaks around midnight, creeping down the old wooden steps and stopping outside of Dawn's room on the first floor.

This feels different than the hissy fit she'd thrown after she'd been a bitch to Fiona.

Ripping at the peeling skin of her fingers with her teeth until it bleeds, she turns on her heel and runs back upstairs after raising her closed fist twice to knock and convincing herself to not do it.

She's trying, because Riley would want her to.

Staying in this house tonight guarantees that she'll slip again, the proximity of so many vices taunting and teasing her.

And she wants not to float - but to drown.

—

‘Fix You’ was also updated on Monday if you haven’t taken a gander🖤

[resident-rats]

🐀 Pinned Post 🐀

As stated in my bio be 18+ to follow/interact with me, I promote my smut on here and am deeply uncomfortably promoting that to anyone underage

• You can call me Rat!! (or Mr Rats as it appears I’ve been christened on here hdhdh)

• Mostly Resident Evil (I have brain worms 😔✌🏻)

• I write fanfiction!! As of right now I write for: Serennedy, Chreon and Metaltango (perhaps more in future who knows✨)

• Not really taking any fic requests at the moment? (this might change though idk)

• Not here for fandom drama, I simply just live in my own bubble

• Asks are very welcome!!

• Feel free to tag/send me rat pictures!!

• Other interests include: photography, horror, reading, rats <33

The tags I use (0 points for creativity):

-#personal

-#my writing (writing updates)

-#my fics

-#my asks

- #rats (for any rodent content I reblog or am tagged in)

Fics I’m working on:

- New Prospects

- Metaltango Christmas (unposted WIP)

- Metaltango Lighthouse (unposted WIP)

[clownmoontoon]

⭐️ LAST UPDATED 10/16/24 !! ALL SALES CLOSED!! THANK U SO MUCH!!!!

🌙sailor moon ribbon necklace: $5 😻kissing kitties rings (not sailor moon merch but i got them bc they reminded me of luna and artemis XD): both for $5 😻artemis and luna cup: $5 🌙 ALL SAILOR MOONINGS: $10✨ SOLD!!

😎sunglasses: $5 each or $10 for all! SOLD!!

🤡 CLOWMS sympathy, dreamy and sunny clown plush and dreamy pin: $50 for ALL SOLD!!

🎈pinkie pie plush and mini figure: $10 for both! SOLD!!

🌈homer mug: $5 🌈simpsons uno: $5 🌈ALL SIMPSONING: $7

♦harley comics misc: $10 ♦harley quinn POP japanese shirt (size L): $5 💥DC POP backpack (has a small tear at the top and the buttons are removable!): $5 💥DC BUNDLE (BUY EM ALL): $15 ✨SOLD!!!

🤡 animaniacs GIANT yakko and wakko plush (each are roughly two feet tall): $50 ✨ 🤡 animaniacs GIANT yakko and wakko plush (each are roughly two feet tall): $50 ✨ PINS ALL SOLD!!!

🍔bobs burgers lanyard: $7 🌈worms on a string lanyard: $5 SOLD!!

💚bruno POP figure NIB: $10 💚bruno fashion doll NIB: 💚encanto mini poster: $5 💚 BUY ALL ENCANTO THINGS: $10✨SOLD!!!

✨ALL DVDS: $2 each or $5 for 5! SOLD: encanto mulan animaniacs s1 megamind supervillains collection beetlejuice rise of the guardians

rainbow unicorn skeleton pin: SOLD!! 🤡down to clown pin: $10 SOLD!! darkstalkers "nurse morrigan" pin: SOLD!! 🌈 THANK U FOR LOOKING! ^^ <3 🌈

[analog-television]

✨new pinned ✨

i love to exist <3 but it's a touch harder to exist on the internet. however i have been drawing again, so i'll be posting my art for my mutuals to see. :) there's not a lot about me but 1) im studying tv broadcasting 2) my lifelong dream is to see a tornado 3) i won't shut up about my oc zenith - who is in fact named after zenith electronics.

some more things:

I am in fact winter's no.1 hater. I hate temperatures below freezing, I hate piles of snow, and I hate not seeing any colors or life outside of the indoors. This is not an endorsement of oppressively hot temperatures either - my ideal range is around 5c-25c.

If there's any core trait of mine it would be my love of birds. If I had a DNI it would just amount to "block me if you hate birds".

I like all colors. Though I'm partial to using blue and red in my art - even though my favorite color to see outside is green.

You should donate your rain and storms to me. I love that type of weather, but we don't get it often enough. :(

My brain's funny with the no fucken consistency disorders - so that's all the fun facts you're getting from me! Because I don't know what other traits you can always expect from me. 🔥

furry, queer, etc. etc. etc.

my pfp/banner is drawn by @gummy-worms-in-my-brain

blog i reblog shit in is @retrocorvidae - though it's my sideblog it's probably best to just tag that one if you need me.

there's also @broadcast-frequencies for my art only

[ultrainfinitepit]

Pride Angels is coming soon 👀 This will be my final campaign to feature guest artist pins, to end things on a high note we will have seven guest designs to fund! I'll be posting in more detail about these pins soon but in the meantime please enjoy all of them together. Artists tagged below ✨

@royarach @vile-worm @gavalaa Erujayy @raphdoods @wyrmzier @dreamvalestudios

[rainbyte]

in your AU, is wally evil-evil or doomed by the narrative evil? what’s the dynamic between him and all the others?

Doomed by a Narrative that is very much so alive and wanting to keep everyone in their roles.

I love!! Stories where the Narrator is an active participant and wants everything to go just so. It's their story and we're in it! And what's storyteller's a perfect fairy tale without a grand villain?

Also something something - the eternal horrors of HAVING to maintain this role of 'evil' but tiptoeing the line to try and be good. Because you want to, but you know it's for the best to keep the status quo. Because at least if you are willingly the bad guy, then you can control what's going to happen. You won't have to face the unknown. You've stared it in the eyes before and the emptiness that looked back was sickening

And eventually maybe you even think that being a villain is all that you can be.

{ Also doublely doomed just by his reputation. Rumors can go wild when you live in a living abandoned castle in the creepiest corner of Hearthstone. ✨ }

~~~~~~~~~~

Dynamic wise!! It's, complicated?

I think he quite likes everyone fairly well enough and even looks forward to their fights. But also he knows he can't ever be their friend. And they rightfully think he's a formidable foe! A rascally rascal - but they can't ever really pin his motives down. They don't know what he wants.

I think Julie would be very insistent on trying to befriend him despite everything. Meanwhile Sally believes that they're both extreme WIZARD RIVALS ™️

Poppy is very afraid of him :(

And Howdy is the only one who he's like. Semi good terms? Since he's the only merchant in the lands who'd let him buy from him. ( Also from Howdy's Pov: gold is gold and it's not as if Wally's schemes ever hurt anyone in the long run )

Him and Barnaby though? HOOH. That's- a can of worms for another time

[padawan-snack-packer]

🎒✨This Is the Way… to My Pinned Post ✨🎒

Hello there! I’m Padawans’ Snack Packer 🍱 (but you can call me Bucky 😌).

She/her pronouns! Welcome to my little Star Wars sandbox where feelings get hurt, clones get hugs, and Jedi get snacks (probably from me). Chaos in a small package, never seen without a granola bar or emotional damage from Clone Wars

Welcome to my intro post!

I’ve been a Star Wars fan since before I could spell “Galactic Empire” — though I did take a little break from the galaxy far, far away because, you know… life, brain worms, and also a certain franchise with rings, power, elves, and an alarming lack of clones temporarily stole my soul. BUT I’M BACK, and more unhinged than ever. My favorite Star Wars characters include Sabine Wren, aka the art gremlin of my heart; Ezra Bridger, my emotional support space feral; Ahsoka Tano, who is everything and then some; and literally any clone trooper ever, even the ones with like 3 seconds of screen time because yes, I do think about their emotional depth, hopes, dreams, and whether or not they cry when dogs die in holomovies (they do). Also, shoutout to Bo-Katan, who is just out here trying to lead her traumatized little planet while looking good doing it — I support her war crimes conditionally. And finally, Dedra Meero, my problematic fave and fascist girlboss, who I love deeply and desperately wish would stop doing evil hotgirl things in the name of the Empire.

I’m here for the angst, the found family, fluff, the blasters, the paint fumes, and the deeply specific emotional damage.

Now that we're here and you made it this far (congrats!!!) I'm taking writing requests!!

I'm taking reader x clone content requests for now (will update this post as I go, don't worry!!) — so whether you’re looking for platonic bonding over caf and war trauma or something tender and heart-squeezing that makes you stare at a wall for an hour, I got you. 🫡

📦 What I’m offering: — Headcanons, oneshots, and that sweet in-between. — Word count? Somewhere between 1.5k and 4k, depending on vibes and inspiration (bestie let's be honest I tend to be on the longer side so you can expect some longer than 4k fics X'D). — Platonic or romantic — no spice, but plenty of seasoning (spice will be for LATER). — Will lovingly write angst, comfort, found family feels, mutual pining, and clones being soft but emotionally repressed. — May or may not include snacks. Okay, they’ll include snacks. Let’s be honest.

🛑 Boundaries / What I don’t write: — Anything spicy or NSFW (yet). — Requests outside the clones/reader combo for now (I’m keeping my hands full with these disaster men).

📬 I’m accepting 3 slots at a time, and I’ll update when slots are open or full!

[STATUS: 0 SLOT TAKEN/ 3]

If you’re sending in a request, feel free to include: — Which clone(s) — Platonic or romantic vibes — The kind of scenario you’re craving (domestic? battlefield? late-night talks in the barracks?) — Anything specific you want included (emotions, tropes, snacks, dramatic speeches, etc)

If it takes me a bit to get to your request, it’s because I’m literally a Padawan in the Jedi Temple of Academia™ and also juggling like five missions (read: fics) going live on my main blog today. The Force is strong, but time management is… a Sith plot. Please don’t yell at me in the anon asks if I don’t get it up today LMAO — unless you want to be verbally roasted like Anakin on Mustafar. I will go full General Grievous and cough my way through a dramatic comeback.

[foli-vora]

hi foli! today is my birthday (i’m feelin 22!!!) and i was wondering if perhaps i could get a rty sneak peek as a gift?? 🙏🤞 i’m literally counting down the days until the next update

OH HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET ANGEL ❤️ HOPE YOU HAVE THE MOST MAGICAL DAY!! ✨ and yes, yes you can. It's just a little slither of a sneak peek, but only a few days to go!

“Back when you were undercover, did you have to wear one of these?”

There’s no anger in your voice, no betrayal or tone of accusation, just simple curiosity. You just want to know, and not to dwell on the past or overwhelm your mind with what his agents may have potentially heard, because god knows that’s a can of worms you don’t want to open. You feel genuine interest, because surely there would’ve been rules and safety precautions for undercover agents. What were his?

“I did,” he answers, guarded brown eyes briefly meeting yours before falling back to where his fingers pin the wire discreetly to your t-shirt, “but I only wore it for the first few meetings. I stopped when we—when we got closer.”

That was unexpected.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

"one more kiss please"+"good morning kisses"+"smiling" for secondo ✨

See? I AM still working on these. I am just slow as hell and also the new Assassin's Creed is out.

By way of apology, here is some straight up Secondo fluff with some mild Adult Activities.

+18 only, MDNI

________________________________________________________

Why, for the love of Lucifer, does this man’s alarm need to go off at such an absurdly early hour? It was a thought you’d had before and one you would have again. Hundreds of times, you’re sure. For, once again, the jarring sound of the electronic beeping wakes you up with all the subtlety of a smack in the face. The only part of this morning ritual that makes it worth while is waking up to him.

This morning, you wake up more on top of him than not. Curled up against his chest, arms still wrapped around him. The low rumble in his chest only makes you cling to him a little tighter and his warm hands on your back destroy the very small amount of resolve you might have had to let him go.

“Buongiorno, amore mio.” Secondo’s voice rasps a little more than usual, still thick with sleep. He brushes your hair off your face, carefully tucking it behind your ear, and kisses the top of your head. “It is time for getting up.”

“Only if you are a bird,” you protest. “Trying to get the worm. And what would you even do with a worm?”

Looking up at him, he smirks at you. Trailing his fingers teasingly down your sides and making you squirm. “You ask me if I still love you if you are a worm. So maybe I practice, eh?”

How anyone can look that smug this early in the day is beyond you. But you still retaliate by attacking his own ticklish spots. The noise he makes is extremely undignified and the speed with which he has you flipped onto your back so he can pin your hands is impressive. Even knowing it will lead to a punishment later, you can’t help laughing.

“Cosa malvagia! Attaccandomi, senza provocazione!” He scolds, though there’s mischief in his eyes. Not yet settled into his Very Serious Papa look for the day. His voice lowers to a soft growl next to your ear. “You know what this means, no? I will teach manners to you. Una lezione molto approfondita, credo.”

Still without the use of your hands thanks to his iron grip, you settle for wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hips rolling teasingly against his. “Does that mean you’re actually going to stay in bed late today?”

Even as you fix him with your biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes, you already know the answer. The shake of his head is only confirmation. “What is it I say to you, tesoro? Every time? Duty before pleasure.” Secondo releases his grip and cups your cheeks in his hands instead. Kissing you deeply in a way that that has your hips rocking against him more desperately and dragging a soft moan from you. “And I say it again. Time for getting up and duties. Pleasure will wait until later.”

You whine pitifully as he starts to pull away, catching his wrist and nuzzling against the palm of his hand. “Secondo, ti prego, ti supplico. Altri cinque minuti. Non baciarmi così e poi lasciarmi disperato. È crudele.”

He raises a brow and moves back to pin you to the bed. A wicked smile playing on his lips should have been enough of a warning. But you’re too occupied by his hand sneaking down to slip between your legs. Secondo’s smile widens when you gasp, his finger running through your slick.

“Mmmm…” His deep voice reverberates right through to your core. “So eager for me…”

A needy sort of sound escapes you and you don’t even bother trying to stop yourself. Your nails scratching softly over his back. “Please, Secondo…”

Secondo leans down closer, whispering next to your ear. “Then we consider this the first lesson. Patience.”

He sits up, grinning like a demon. His hands leaving you, even when you plead for more. But it’s too late, he’s already into the bathroom and you can hear the sound of the shower. When he comes back, you’re still on the bed, curled up in a huff and glaring daggers at him. Secondo’s smile twists oddly under his freshly applied paints and he walks over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sono un insegnante severo, mia cara, ma giusto.” He catches your chin and looks you in the eye. “I think, if you can be la mia brava ragazza this morning, I find time just for you at lunch. Si?”

Your eyes widen eagerly at the offer and you nod quickly. “I can. I know I can.” Even the desperateness in your voice can’t stop you.

He leans closer and the smell of his cologne mingles with the lingering smell of his soap and the faint, familiar smell of his paints. His finger runs softly along your jaw sending a shiver rushing down your spine. “One more kiss, please amore.” A game with rules and roles is one thing, but he needs the signal, at very least, to know that your anger is only for show and that there’s not a discussion to be had.

You let your pout drop entirely, for his sake. Leaning in and kissing him once more. Careful to not completely destroy his face before he’s even gotten to his office. Secondo smiles, content in knowing that you’re both on the same page. However, it doesn’t stop him from leaning in close and whispering in your ear.

“Don’t think this means we don’t teach you manners tonight, tesoro. I have plans for you.”

___________________________________________________________

Buongiorno, amore mio = Good morning, my love

Cosa malvagia! Attaccandomi, senza provocazione! = Wicked thing! Attacking me, without provocation!

Una lezione molto approfondita, credo. = A very thorough lesson, I think.

Secondo, ti prego, ti supplico. Altri cinque minuti. Non baciarmi così e poi lasciarmi disperato. È crudele. = Secondo, please, I'm begging you. Five more minutes. Don't kiss me like that and then leave me desperate. It's cruel.

Sono un insegnante severo, mia cara, ma giusto. = I'm a strict teacher, my dear, but a fair one.

la mia brava ragazza = my good girl