#Brightly Colored or Neon Gloves

[light-driftwood-metallic]

Richard Kern

[superemeralds]

two sides of the same coin. everything is the same... but opposite!

ponytail: shadow wears it high, tight and strict. his hair looking like fire - while sonic's is loose and low, almost flowing like water (or wind hehe)

piercings: the same amount of piercings but on opposite ears. also shadow's are spikes while sonic has rings

jacket: shadow wears a leather jacket that not only is form fitting, but he also has belts that constrict him further. also leather jackets are a type of protective gear and we know how much he shields off emotional damage. sonic's jacket is wide, brightly colored, airy, open and cropped!

"shirt" (its actually a suit): they both have "active wear" suits underneath their other stuff but shadow's is based on compression and protection (diving, racing, those winter compression suits that keep u warm, somewhat scifi space suit vibes), while sonic wears one based on gymnast suits that are made to be the least amount of constraining so he can do sick tricks (let's ignore the rest of his outfit for that point)

emo belt: selfexplainatory

how they store rings: shadow has a hip-belt-bag thing to stash away rings, but sonic just has them dangling off his funny pants strap. nothing to hide babeyy

speaking of pants/belt straps: shadow has a neon colored strap in a caution/danger tape look. warding off ppl and saying "do not cross". meanwhile sonic has a neon colored belt that resembles a racing banner or even a finish line. it's begging to be crossed.

gloves: they each wear one full glove on opposite hands

broken pants: they have holes at their knees on opposite sides

stance: they have opposite feet at front with shadow having the front one bent in a way that evokes he's going to walk away, while sonic's front foot is flat on the ground, feeling like he's on his way towards the viewer

do i need to mention the line of action being mirrored

[aberrati-by-design]

I think the narcs will be glad to know I spent ‘narcissistic abuse awareness day’ yesterday as a questioning narc at a pride parade getting many compliments for my cool outfit and holding a snake and getting pictures with a drag Queen in my cool ass wheelchair

Anyway narc abuse isn’t real, also happy pride.

(The drag queens were performers and gave permission to be recorded and have their pictures take , this is Amethyst Diamond, they were amazing!)

[ID: Photo mainly featuring two people, taken outside on a town street during a gay pride festival. To the left is a very tall drag Queen, they have medium dark skin and loose Afro curls that are ginger towards the top and become a darker brown close to the shoulders. They wear a neon yellow body suit studded with gemstones, with vertical lines striking through some parts to reveal skin. They wear tall heeled shoes. They crouch closer to the other person’s height to fit in the picture, since it is OP and he’s in his wheelchair, and they are holding up a peace sign and smiling brightly. OP is wearing a rainbow tank top under an unbuttoned short sleeved shirt with green alien and white ufo pattens printed on it. He has glasses and black headphones on, as well as black compression gloves, boots, and a knee brace if the same color. His hands are folded in his lap. He is smiling, lips closed. End ID]

[sotwk]

Me when I saw Bucky Barnes was one of the Special Guest Blorbos:

Bucky Barnes for Summertime Drabbles pleeeaassee 😁

Thank you for the request, @morethantheycansay! <3 If I go full-on Bucky Barnes stan, I will have you to blame thank! XD Your constant support of my writing means the world and helps a lot!

Content/Genre: Marvel; Gen fluffy summer romance

To Read on Ao3: LINK

PRICELESS

Bucky Barnes x Reader

“They’re just scams, all of them,” Bucky grumbled, dragging his feet as you tugged him in the direction of the county fair midway. A wide alley of garishly colored and brightly lit stalls competed for the attention of passers-by, with hawkers yelling out invitations to play amid the clamor of electronic bells and blaring buzzers.

You pointed at a toddler rolling by in a parent-drawn Radio Flyer, jubilantly hugging an oversized Spiderman plush toy. “If people are still somehow able to win, then they can’t entirely be scams.” You linked your arm with his and snuggled up close, which softened his resistance to being led through the noisy crowd. “They’re just made to be, um, challenging!” He snorted at your assessment, and your retort of jabbing an elbow into his ribs went barely noticed. 

“Oooh! I want to try this one!” You broke away abruptly to dash toward a quieter, less ostentatiously decorated booth, where aluminum milk bottles were stacked up on a line of pedestals. The attendant, a ruddy-faced, heavyset fellow, beamed at your arrival. 

“Three throws for ten credits,” he announced, holding up a pair of softballs. 

“Huh?” Bucky froze with his hand in the back pocket of his jeans, in the middle of digging out his wallet for cash payment.  

“No worries, I’ve got it.” You held out the neon green band around your wrist, and the attendant promptly scanned the barcode. Grasping the first ball, you turned to smile at Bucky, only to find him sporting that brooding scowl he promised he was still learning to keep out of your dates. 

“Ten bucks for three chances, you gotta be joking,” he muttered, having figured out what the pre-loaded credits you discreetly purchased cost.

“It’s fine, really. For the priceless memories, remember?” You hoped this wouldn’t trigger another overdrawn tirade about how it was criminal to charge so much for family-friendly entertainment, and how county fair admission cost next to nothing back in his day. (“Back in 1939?” you gently reminded him of his last fair experience.) 

He stared at you, at the little pout puppy-dog-eyes combo you put up for his benefit, and finally cracked a smile. “Right. Show off that arm, then.”

You stepped up to the line marker and drew back your arm for the first throw. Thunk. Too low. You struck the platform base solidly, but noticed that the little pyramid of bottles didn't even wiggle.

In your second throw, the ball caught the top bottle and knocked it off the stack.  You threw up your hands with a triumphant hoot, but the attendant was quick to remind you that you needed to knock over all three bottles for the big win.

Feeling a little more pressure (and admittedly pessimistic), you reached for the last ball. Bucky's gloved hand snatched it up first. 

“May I?”

You couldn't even remember if you nodded or said anything to indicate consent. You would only remember the sharp gleam in his eyes and the hard line of his clenched jaw. 

The rocket force of Bucky's throw blew all three bottles clear off the pedestal and smacked into the back of the booth with a crack, leaving a souvenir on the wooden paneling.

You walked off still mildly dazed with a giant Bluey stuffie clutched to your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky finally blurted out. “I should have let you take the last shot, I know you like doing these things for yourself. But it was torture watching that guy take you for a ride. I had to either throw the ball or slap that smirk off his face.”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his hair and looked at you again, his excuses trailing off. “Aw hell, let’s face it. In the end I really just wanted to win you that ridiculously large teddy bear.”

“It’s a dog, actually. An Australian Cattle Dog.”

“It would need its own plane ticket.” He sighed. “Whatever. Again, I'm sorry.”

“Quit apologizing.” You reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “Did you have fun doing it?”

Bucky shrugged. “Gotta admit, it was a lot more satisfying than my last time at a fair.” Drawing you slowly into his arms, he gave a low chuckle. “In 1939.”

“Sounds like a great new memory.” You smiled and slid a hand around the back of his neck. “Mission accomplished, Sergeant,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his, in a kiss that he returned with twice the enthusiasm. 

“Let me win you every damn prize in this carnival,” he said, still slightly breathless after he broke off, that spine-tingling gleam reinvigorated in his piercing eyes. “Turn these fixed games around and con the swindlers right back.”

You bit your lip, the eager tone in his voice giving you pause. Would it be ethical to unleash a hungry White Wolf with a tireless metal arm on these game hawkers? 

“I do have that toy drive at work coming up in a few months.”

“My girl.” Bucky grinned and looped an arm around your waist to drop a sloppy kiss on your temple that made you squeal. “Point me to the next sucker.”

Steve: You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck? Bucky: Was that the time you used our train money to buy hotdogs? Steve: You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead. Captain America: Civil War (2016)

This limited edition Marvel fic is a gift written as part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024.

[ghostly-hitch-hiker]

Speedrunning Puberty and All Its Cons. Chapter 2: Exit, Pursued by a Bear, (pt 2)

< start << previous / next >> (coming soon) | AO3 Update

PART 2 OF CHAPTER 2 IS HERE AND THE WHOLE CHAPTER IS UP ON AO3! Forgive me the cliffhanger. Also, merry crisis. Also if you requested to be tagged, I apologize. I cannot find the messages. I hope this finds you anyway.

Danny’s first night in Gotham started sometime around 3 am and ran together until dawn. He clambered down to street level, relying heavily on his right arm over his lacerated left one, and immediately disappeared into the shadows. Yeah, invisibility against whatever Bat had almost found him was a better move right now, but Danny wasn’t exactly thinking straight. He willed up enough energy and ice to just about freeze his shoulder, thus slowing the bleeding to almost nothing. Danny went to pull the sweatshirt he’d packed out of his backpack in order to cover up the blood, and his hand met nothing but air. Shit. He whipped his head up to look at the roof that now hosted a solid several ounces of his blood, his all important backpack, and an unknown Bat. Swearing under his breath, Danny managed to turn intangible and invisible, and floated up toward the roof once more.

As his eyes crested the edge of the brick, Danny caught sight of his first ever in-person Bat. A mostly black-clad figure stood about ten feet away, escrima sticks clenched in gloved fists. Danny inhaled, and Nightwing’s head whipped in his direction. The man adopted a defensive position, scanning the area for what he didn’t know he wouldn’t find. Danny turned his attention to searching for his backpack, and almost groaned aloud when he spotted the lavender canvas only three feet from Nightwing’s foot in the shadow of the water tower. Ignoring Nightwing, Danny floated through the building toward his backpack.

“Oracle, I’m on a rooftop on the edge of the Narrows looking at signs of a struggle…”

“Violence isn’t exactly uncommon near the Narrows. What makes this unusual enough to call in?”

“Well, I’ve got a seriously deformed and bloody water tower for one thing.”

“Suspected cause?”

“Whatever hit this thing did so after a pretty decent fall by the looks of it.”

Danny froze, his hand just inches from his backpack straps. Nightwing was looking right at him, and Danny had a brief moment of panic that maybe his invisibility had stopped working.

“There’s a purple backpack up here. Not exactly any of the usual suspects’ MO…”

Nightwing shifted his weight and pinched the bridge of his nose in clear frustration. “No, Hood is not involved… nor does he know I’m here.”

Danny ignored the staticky voice on the other end of Nightwing’s comm in favor of grabbing his backpack and dragging it through the roof and out of sight of the vigilante. From below the roof, Danny could hear the muffled sounds of Nightwing cursing. Evidently he’d noticed the backpack was gone. Danny once again phased into proper existence two streets away, and collapsed against the graffitied wall of an alley.

The alley was about ten feet across and crammed full of trash and recycling cans. Danny crouched down behind a random bin and unzipped his backpack as quietly as possible. Reaching a hand into its zipper maw, Danny dug through his backpack until he found his sweatshirt. He carefully extracted the fabric from his mess of other supplies and tugged it on. The soft shing of a grappling hook unfurling overhead drove Danny to his feet and, remembering his backpack this time, out into the streets of Gotham.

If cities were films, Amity Park was a brightly colored 90s cartoon and Gotham was 50s noir Danny mused. The comparisons weren’t one to one, but Danny did find the change in scenery a welcome respite from the neon palette of his hometown and the Ghost Zone. Danny found himself meandering at first, getting distracted by the recurring gargoyles and wishing his phone had both the battery and the memory to send pictures to Sam. She had waxed poetic about the architecture before, and he was beginning to see what she found so compelling about Gotham. It was aesthetically very pleasing. As several police cars sped past, sirens all blaring, Danny frowned and amended his mental assessment of the city. It was beautiful in its decrepitude. It was also too loud and too smoky.

Danny turned away from the sirens and started winding his way along progressively dirtier and more broken streets, ducking into alleys and turning invisible as needed to escape Nightwing’s notice. Fifteen minutes of wandering later, Danny was leaning against a heavily graffitied wall and listening for the tell tale sound of a grappling hook. Fifteen more minutes later, Danny felt confident enough in having left Nightwing behind to turn his focus to other things. He took a better look at his surroundings. The street was more pothole and patchwork than it was asphalt, and the curb was almost black with gum and ink and who knows what else. The buildings that lined the street he was looking out on were either all boarded up or broken glass. There was the occasional neon sign, half out, advertising… something. One simply said “girls”. A neon green sign above a boarded up door advertised “meat”. Danny didn’t want to know if the meat was referring to a deli or something else entirely. Turning his gaze upward, Danny took in several stories of shaded or boarded windows, none of which seemed to have any lights on inside. He turned back to the wall he was leaning against, saw it was perhaps a story or two taller than many of the surrounding buildings, and began looking for a fire escape to climb. If Danny had lived in Gotham longer, he would have found an empty street at 4:30 in the morning strange, especially for the Narrows. Danny, having never visited a city like Gotham, did not notice anything off about this, and proceeded to climb the fire escape he had found as quietly as he could. After using so much intangibility and invisibility to escape Nightwing, climbing the fire escape with his injuries was his best (and only) option for getting above street level, and Danny had enough street smarts and anxiety to know that he did not want to spend the rest of the night on the streets of Gotham—especially if he wanted to catch some sleep.

Danny pulled himself onto the roof with a grunt and rolled onto his back. Then, he just laid there on the edge of the roof, breathing harder than he had any right to or even needed to. The sound of gun fire (holy shit, actual guns!) from only a few streets over roused him from the early stages of sleep, and Danny leapt to his feet. He wobbled on the edge of the roof for a moment, waiting for his vision to clear before crossing to the other side of the building to see if he could spot whatever was going on.

Just a street or two from his current location, Danny could see sparks flying, but very little else. He could hear plenty though. Lots of shouting, sprays of gunfire, and, if he focused hard enough, he could hear the clink of each individual casing as it hit the pavement. Focusing on a single noise over the whole cacophony helped him avoid being overwhelmed. Danny crouched on the edge of the roof to listen as the machine gun fire faded and the shouting grew more panicked. Voices cut off abruptly, each preceded by a gunshot or a wet crack, until there was nothing coming from that direction anymore. Danny assumed everyone was dead, and he didn’t notice the soft thump behind him as someone new joined him on the roof.

“Oy, Dick Head. The fuck are you doing here?” a robotic modulated voice called from behind Danny, and he startled so badly he almost fell out of his crouch. The robotic voice whistled. “Haven’t gotten the jump on you in ages. Seriously, Dick, what the fuck?”

Danny finally managed to find his footing and stand. Then he turned to face the stranger.

[possum-fiend]

Audio Descriptions:

Image 1: A lively, full color drawing against a pale yellow background depicts, from left to right, Kon in a modified version of his ‘03 Teen Titans Superboy outfit, Tim in his ‘09 Red Robin suit without his cowl covering his face, and Bart in his Kid Flash suit with his cowl off huddled together closely to take a selfie. As Kon holds the camera with his right hand and wraps his left arm around Tim’s shoulder, he smiles brightly at the camera with a wink and a cocked eyebrow. Tim, meanwhile, is being tugged into Kon whilst looking embarrassed and surprised with a blush adorning his face . Lastly, Bart with an open mouth smile, rosy cheeks, and eye’s closed eyes leans into Tim with his left hand on Tim’s left arm and puts his right arm behind Tim to make bunny ears above Tim’s head. For a more detailed description on their outfits, see below:

1. Kon has his plain black T-shirt with a red Superman symbol splayed across chest and his plain blue jeans are accompanied by a black leather jacket, piercings, and an undercut.

2. Tim is wearing a suit with a long sleeved red top with black accents along the side of the torso, black skin-tight bottoms, black gloves that extend to the mid forearm, a yellow utility belt around his hips, yellow utility belts splayed across his chest in an x-shape, and a long black cape pinned together by a small Red Robin insignia. Additionally without his cowl on, he has medium short black hair with middle parted fringe.

3. Bart is wearing a yellow, full-body spandex suit with his cowl off forming a hood. On the suit, jagged white lines accenting across his hips and both sides of his front torso while a flash insignia, a white circle with a red border and red lighting symbol overlaying the circle. Additionally with his cowl off, he’s showing his fluffy, medium-short brown hair with red and yellow goggles pushing back his hair like a headband.

Image 2: A collection of 3 full-color drawings of Kon in his 90’s superboy suit- a suit consisting of a cropped leather jacket over a spandex bodysuit with a blue top with the superman symbol splayed on the chest and red bottoms, black boots with yellow accents, useless black belts looping around his hips twice while hanging loosely off his hips, red fingerless gloves, and an undercut with a black curly mop of hair lies on top of his head. The top drawing has Kon crouching down to the floor in a battle ready pose with his left arm pulled back, his left hand in a fist, and his right hand touching the rock below with neon pink lines imminent from that area indicating usage of his tactile telekinesis (TTK). The bottom left image has Kon floating in an action pose with his knees bent, and chest leaning forwards as he uses the TTK in his right hand to lift a heavy boulder. He’s winding up to throw the boulder at his opponent as he shouts, “Eat shit, asshole.” The third image follows the previous image as he’s twisting to the right away from the viewer whilst leaning back in recoil. The boulder has broken with a “WHAM!” while his opponent, portrayed with an emoji with X’s as the eyes, is knocked out. The entire collection of drawings is against a dull purple background with the phrase “Don’t mess with the S” positioned at the top of the image with bold, yellow lettering.

Image 3: A collection of 6 full-color Tim drawings. 5 images are in his Robin suit- a suit consisting of green spandex pants, a red spandex top with 2 yellow bars lined on top of each other on his chest and a small yellow insignia to the left of the bars, green sleeves,green gauntlet gloves, a yellow utility belt, a cape with black exterior and yellow interior, a black mask with white lenses, and short black hair with a middle part fringe-, and 1 image is in his Red Robin suit with all the images splayed together against a dull blue background.

1. The top left image is of Robin in an action pose whereby he’s crouching to his left while glaring to his right with his cape billowing in that direction. Additionally his hands hold his metal bo staff horizontally with his left arm behind him and right arm in front of him as he readies his staff.

2. The top middle image is a simple doodle of Robin crouching with his body front facing as he pokes something with his right hand and holds his left hand to his face as he questions what this something is.

3. The top right doodle is an action pose of Tim swinging to his right on a grappling hook while looking wide-eyed to his left with his cape billowing behind him in that direction. His legs are bent up, his right arm is behind him pointing and his left arm is holding the wire in front of him.

4. The bottom left image has Robin looking focused and determined in an action pose front-facing with his bow staff behind him in his right hand and yellow batarang winded-up in front of his chest to throw.

5. The bottom right image has Red Robin in an action pose readying his right fist behind him with his elbow bent to his side while his left arm is similarly readied in front of him with his left hand open to block. He’s leaning forward with a dark, cold yet determined expression on his face. The middle image has Robin facing to the right as rides on a red skateboard while crouching low on the board with his left arm in front of him while his left hand holding the board with his right arm behind him, being held up to steady himself.

Image 4: A full-color drawing of Bart in his Impulse suit- a suit consisting of a red and white spandex bodysuit with white along the sides of his arms, legs, and torso and red stripe running down the middle of his torso and legs with jagged ends; red boots with white traction on the bottom, red fingerless gloves, a partial red cowl connecting to google's with yellow lenses and gold lightning antennas over the ears, and poofy, messy medium-short sticking out from the cowl cut out- as he’s crouched on the ground with hands on the floor in a runner’s starting position.

Image 5: The image shows an in-color sketch of Bart in his Impulse suit against a white background. He’s looking straight-ahead, smug at the viewer as he uses his left hand to hold the edge of an oversized yellow t-shirt he’s wearing over his costume while his right hand is raised in front of his hips as the hand is held in a lazy peace sign. The focal point of the image is the big text slayed across his shirt reading “ I Love Hot Moms.”

Image 6: The image shows an in-color sketch of Cass, or Wonder girl, against a white background in brown pants and a mustard yellow shirt tied in a knot at the bottom center. She’s wearing her silver wristbands , red-star stud earrings, black choker, silver boxy goggles, and a short blonde pixie haircut. She has an annoyed, exasperated expression on her face while her hands are placed on her hips in fists with her shirt reading “Please Stop Calling My Mom Hot” displayed prominently.

Image 7: The image shows an in-color sketch of Jenny Hex in her two-toned brown jumpsuit with a V neck, a black undershirt, dark brown belt, brown gloves, a brown cowboy hat, a shotgun, and her long ginger hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Her body is facing straight at the camera with her right hand on her belt loop while her left hand holds her shotgun over her shoulder. She smirks lazily yet cocky at the viewer.

[DC] say cheese 📸!

My original bday post + action pose art! And some bonus sketch comms :)

[neoninspace]

Tulpar Food Safety Officer "Neon"

Curly said I have to do an introduction for this blog thing. Apparently people are supposed to ask me questions n such?

I go by Neon, he/him. Started going by it because of my brightly colored hair.

I'm the food safety officer, which is really just a glorified chef. Pony Express hired me to cover their asses, make sure they're not liable for anything nutrition wise. Unofficially, I'm also quality control and a general supporting member for the rest of the crew. I took the job so I can help Ma save up to get a house, and if I'm out in space she doesn't have to worry about bills being so high.

I end up in medical a lot to monitor my vitals. My lungs aren't the strongest and my blood sugar tanks suddenly a lot. Normally it would disqualify me for any other space team, but the corporate horse overlords cut corners wherever.

Also, stay out of my goddamn kitchen.

((OOC))

Neontulparblog -> neoninspace

(Neontulparblog was too hard to remember and felt weird)

I'm more than happy to do canon x oc and oc x oc interactions, the more the merrier!

AU/Canon with @curly-capt (and by proxy: @the-true-tulpar-captain)

Legally I'm an adult, as in 18+.

My responses may come off as unsympathetic or low empathy/sympathy. This is partly because I am a dork and have audhd (tone tags heavily encouraged). It also depends on my energy levels

You can get meta if you want, just know that this blog may not follow canon.

Various notes/fun facts

Favorite Pokémon is Vaporeon. Noibat and Noivern are close seconds though.

Banned from writing those custom blank uno cards

In addition to earrings, has snake bites and a vampire bat skull tattoo. also wears steel toe boots because it's regulation so big wigs can't do anything

His favorite swear is fuck.

Has a cat named Yen. Based on mod's irl cat.

Really serious when it comes to food safety on the job, doesn't really care otherwise. Still wears disposable gloves to handle raw meat though.

His first name is Ronan, meaning "little seal"

Grew up in Colorado

5'4", his boots add a couple extra inches

[electric123456]

Lighting and Visibility: Staying Safe on Your E-Bike

Riding an electric cycle combines convenience, efficiency, and a touch of adventure. However, safety is paramount. Ensuring you are properly lit and visible to others is crucial for staying safe on your electric cycle. In this blog, we’ll discuss the importance of proper lighting, explore different types of lights, and recommend additional visibility accessories to keep you safe.

The Importance of Proper Lighting Proper lighting is essential for both seeing and being seen. When riding your electric cycle, make sure you are visible to other road users, especially in low-light conditions at night.

Different Types of Lights for E-Bikes

Headlights Headlights are crucial for illuminating your path, helping you see where you are going. A powerful headlight allows you to spot obstacles and navigate through dark or poorly lit areas. When purchasing a headlight for your electric cycle, look for high lumens, adjustable brightness, and long battery life. LED headlights are renowned for their brightness and energy efficiency.

Turn Signals Turn signals are essential for making your intentions clear to other road users, making your movements predictable and reducing the risk of accidents. Many modern electric cycles come with integrated turn signals, but if yours doesn’t, you can purchase easy-to-install aftermarket options.

Additional Visibility Accessories

Reflectors Reflectors are an easy way to improve visibility. Attach them to your bike's frame, wheels, and pedals to catch the light from car headlights. Reflective stickers and tapes can also enhance visibility.

High-Visibility Clothing Wearing high-visibility clothing is vital for staying safe on the road. Bright, fluorescent colors like neon yellow, green, and orange are highly visible during the day. At night, reflective materials shine brightly when illuminated by headlights. Consider purchasing high-visibility vests, jackets, or accessories like gloves and helmets.

Conclusion Staying visible and properly lit is crucial when riding an electric cycle. Ensure you have adequate headlights, taillights, and turn signals, and enhance your visibility with reflectors and high-visibility clothing before heading out.

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: bringing aventurine back from the nightclub ❀ ˎˊ- aventurine x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.1k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: alcohol mentions, aventurine being aventurine, written before 2.1 ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

If not attending business meetings or gambling away in casinos, Aventurine can instead be found at nightclubs, with a brightly colored drink swirling leisurely in his hand.

He finds that he rather likes the atmosphere of the nightlife, with the darkness of the night providing a safe cover for him and any other partygoers, the loud roar of drunken clients drowning out any secrets or sorrows, and the blaring neon lights a distraction from the meaningless toil of the day. The energy of the party sweeps one away in a tsunami of alcohol and laughter and hands that wander where they shouldn't.

Aventurine takes another sip of his beverage - a margarita this time - and savors the slight burn as it slides down his throat. His elbow rests casually on the bar counter as he simply takes in the delirious atmosphere.

He doesn't remember which glass he's on now, nor does he particularly care. All Aventurine needs to bother with is keeping his drink covered and his wit still relatively intact, and a few measly glasses isn't enough to win him over.

Still, it doesn't mean that the alcohol isn't taking its effect on him. While Aventurine's eyes are as sharp as ever, both observing the ridiculous acts of drunken clients with almost sadistic amusement and keeping an eye out for any malicious intent, he can't deny the warm tingle in the back of his head that comes with his drinks.

He lets out a content sigh into the alcohol-laced air, raising his gaze to the multicolored ceiling.

Yes, this was perfect for him, he muses, a bitter smile on his face. This was where he belonged, in a twisted sanctuary for people to temporarily drink and party themselves out of reality. This was the only place left for people like him.

"I thought I might find you here."

As if by habit, Aventurine chuckles, straightening his posture. Taking another sip of his drink, he takes his time turning to you and meeting your disapproving gaze.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite assistant," he hums, the glass still hovering above his lips, the nectar within just a few bits away from pouring into his mouth. "What brings you all the way here?"

As he doesn't already know the answer.

"You, who else?" You sound exasperated, but your words bring upon satisfaction as his smile grows wider.

"Aww," Aventurine coos. He downs the rest of his drink, setting it down on the bar before leaning on the counter towards you, propping his head up on his palm. "Was someone worried about me?"

Again, he eagerly awaits for your answer.

You give him a tired look, one that he's seen many, many times in his career. Yet you decide to indulge him, a defeated sigh leaving you.

"Obviously," you say bluntly. "You'll destroy your liver at this rate."

Aventurine laughs good-naturedly, the corners of his mesmerizing eyes crinkling.

"Well, aren't you sweet."

He pushes himself off the counter to stand, and shrugs on the fur coat that was hanging off his stool. With a gloved finger, he tips your chin towards him.

"I must apologize for worrying you, my dear," he says sweetly. You furrow your brows at the nickname, but Aventurine pays no mind as he quickly pays off his tab and saunters off to the building's exit. He looks back at you, amusement flickering behind those rose-tinted glasses as you stare at him, dumbfounded yet too tired to care for his antics. "Aren't you going to see me home?"

You don't remember saying anything of the sort, and Aventurine knows this, but in the end, he's still your boss and you have to do what he asks of you.

Reluctantly, you follow him out. Aventurine slings an arm around you as you come close and pulls you flush against his side as you walk down the streets of the city. When you don't protest, but rather, subtly lean into his hold, Aventurine internally breathes a sign of relief.

He doesn't treat anyone else like this, much less a subordinate. The Amber Lord knows what people have been whispering about the two of you at headquarters. But he can't help it, not when you're the only one to actively seek him out and not push him away, as annoyed with him as you sound.

Something about that attracts him to you, as much as he hates to admit it. Time and time again, whenever you take the time out of your already busy work schedule to check on him, like now, he can't stop his heart from beating a little bit faster.

"Your breath reeks of alcohol," you comment, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Is that so?" Aventurine hums thoughtfully. "I wonder why."

You roll your eyes. "If you need a distraction that badly, have you tried seeking therapy?"

"That's hardly a distraction, my dear," Aventurine chuckles. "No, unless you can come up with a better idea, I think I'll stick to the clubs."

"Or you could come to me."

You expect another laugh, but instead, Aventurine stiffens as if shocked by a lightning bolt. His eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape as he stares at you. But by the time you notice and look back to him, Aventurine's smile is back, only this time, something dark lingers behind his irises.

"Hm, I don't know about that one," he says easily, his arm falling back to his side as he quickens his pace. "You know, it isn't nice to say things you don't mean."

Indignation flashes across your face, and something in Aventurine's chest tightens.

"Sir-"

And yet, he persists despite himself.

"We should get going."

His tone is flat, still lighthearted, but warning this time. You open your mouth to protest, but think better of it and shut your lips.

The walk back to the car is quiet, deafeningly so. You still walk by Aventurine's side, but now, there's a considerable distance between you two.

Aventurine's fingers twitch, and for a moment, he almost reaches towards you, only to catch himself and reign his hand back to his side. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and calms himself.

Yes, this is how it should be, he thinks to himself as he enters the car. He leans on the door and gazes outside at the nightclub, still raving despite it all.

An escape, a distraction, that was what he sought out most. But it couldn't come from you.

He'd rather die before he'd let that happen.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[light-driftwood-metallic]

[theeyoungalabastoralt]

FNaF SB x NonBi!Animatronic!Blacklight!Drummer! reader

Beat of Your Own Drum

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

ANNOUNCEMENT

Request: no

Warnings: Swearing,

Pronouns: They/ Them

Mainly Mentioned: Reader,

Violet Codes

"Sounds like you and Monty have gotten closer!" An arm is thrown over your shoulders causing a yelp to escape your lips at the sudden weight. Glancing up at the white chicken you gave a soft grin before nodding slightly. "What happened? Because I got yelled at for making a mess in the kitchen that I vividly remember cleaning and the mess in his golf course." She quizzed quirking a thin brow voice laced with an unreadable tone, leaning against your brightly pigmented vanity.

Your eye widened slightly at the mention, ears jerking down slightly as you chuckled nervously, shifting uncomforting in your seat, clinging to the neon pillow that sat on your lap. Mouth opening to speak. "W-Well, I may have made the messes, and I apologize for getting you in trouble Chica, it's just that Montgomery wasn't at the little celebration last night and I felt bad, so I tried bringing him some food last night but it uh- got cold..." You breathed out the last part, vibrant (E/C) orbs shot to the floor, suddenly finding the rather cricked tiles interesting. "And when we talked last night, I brought him back into the kitchen to make more but then I remembered-"

"-He likes it cold" Chica broke in with a knowing nod, the tuffs of feathers atop of her head waving smoothly at the action. "Honestly, I'm surprised he didn't drag you out of his Golf course, that's what he did to Freddy." She chuckled pushing herself from the place she stood her fuchsia hues admired the vibrant room she stood in, beak slightly agape. This being her first time in your room she still could not get over how different it looked compared to the others. "This place is amazing, it's so...-"

"-Bright, I know, it's been giving my programing problems. I wish I knew how to turn the damned black lights off. It's starting to irritate me." You hissed with a strained voice raising a finger to massage your temple with a padded palm, careful not to accidentally chip the paint or even scuff your plush obsidian colored fur. Chica nodded again with a light hum, "Oh, (Y/N)" Chica turned her head to glance at your seated form, pillow now resting behind your head as you observed the ceiling above. Unlike the rest of the room was red with support beams.

Seems like they hadn't finished when I arrived. You dialoged mentally as you reluctantly glanced toward the female standing next to the brightly colored instruments. Chica lifted a gloved finger in thought, seeming to have forgotten what she was about to say. After a moment of silence and groan from the chicken her fingers snapped, cherry hues perking as she nodded to herself leaving you questioning and slightly concerned. "Officer Vanessa wanted to see you before the show today! She said it was something about your entertainment room!"

"Entertainment room?" You questioned lips pulled into a thick line showing that you were clearly clueless as to what she was getting at. Chica nodded with a bubbly giggle. "Yes silly, we all have entertainment rooms! like..." She paused resting her head in her palm before again perking. "Monty has Monty Golf, Freddy has Fazer Blast! And Bonnie has Bonnie bow-" She stopped last word extending on her tongue, cursing mentally she glanced away from your figure as if embarrassed, eyes laced with a familiar emotion.

Resentment.

Irritation sparked through your wires at this realization, why did they have to look at you like that when that character was mentioned? Yes, you knew that Bonnie was once a big part of the band, but it wasn't your fault that he was decommissioned and thrown away. You weren't even thought of when he was scrapped.

A huff left your snout at her wavering gaze before pushing yourself from your spot, no longer finding comfort in the suddenly stiff cushioning. Your gears let out a stiff audible cry in protest as you stood causing the girl to look back at you with apologetic eyes, without a glance you strode towards the door, the ear-piercing sound no longer as noticeable. With a dismissing wave the door opened obediently as you spoke. "Well, I'm going to go and see what she needs, If I'm going to be performing today then I better get going huh?" You spoke blandly stepping out of the room, door slamming closed behind you are leaving the band member behind in silence.

____

"Your leg joints are still a bit tight, so I'm going to have to loosen them." placing the tablet on the desk she turned her head, bonded hair pulled tight into a ponytail, bangs slicked back, a few strands tickling the base of her forehead. Vanessa directed a hand towards the protective cylinder. "You will need to step in here so I can loosen them up, your tablet also says that you need your ear springs adjusted too." She stated with a huff as you trudged stiffly into the cylinder, propping yourself onto the padded stretcher like furniture.

It took a few moments for the blond to enter the cylinder due to typing away at the computer and gathering the things she would need.

It was odd, feeling the joints loosen, and the wires being shifted around so she could reach access to the places needed adjusting. It didn't take as long, that was till she made her way to the ear springs.

Vanessa's lips were pulled into a displeased frown as she tried to reach her lean fingers into the tight space, moving your ear's out of the way before crossing her arms, a low growl leaving her throat. You quirked a brow at the human beside you before your eyes focused on the object in her hand, twirling around her fingers.

A violet disc, spun around her fingers swiftly, giving you only a few moments to catch a glance at the unique design engraved into the plastic covering. The words were scrapped messily on the plastic surface making it almost unreadable and incomprehensible, opening your mouth to speak you hummed.

"What may that be Officer Vanessa?" You puzzled; voice laced with a somewhat unreadable tone. She perked at the sound of your voice breaking her train of thought, she turns the disc around reading the rough surface with a shrug. "It's supposed to be a disc with the new songs you will be playing in your entertainment room for the kids. I can't find your damned import." She grumbled in what seemed to be defeat. You perked at this leaning forwards slightly. There in the little of your back was a port.

"You could have just asked; I know that I am a new piece of equipment and not built like the rest of my band mates." You paused, feeling the warmth of her palm run down your spine, and the said disc slide into its place. You groaned at the searing pain that shot from your wires, surrounding every joint painstakingly. Vanessa glanced at your pained expression with a furrowed brow. "Sorry (Y/N), It's gonna hurt for a bit, your body is trying to read the programing and such. I'll leave you here for a bit, I don't think you should perform today so that you don't play the wrong song." She chuckled dryly turning away from your laying figure. Exiting the cylinder, she nodded to herself leaving you to comprehend the new programing.

Sorry for the short chapter I have been quite tired and lazy lol,

A/U: UNEDITED

[redrobin-detective]

Part of what defines a ghost’s appearance is not only how they perceive themselves but how they desired to be perceived by others. Half ghosts are no different.

Vlad Masters/Plasmius is obsessed with power and control both of which reflect in his human and ghostly forms. Fear is a certain kind of power, a control over his victim’s basic instincts that he relishes which is why over time his ghost form becomes more and more creepy. His skin fades to an inhuman, suffocated blue color and his eyes beam an unnatural, neon red. He grows fangs and underneath his gloves, his nails curl into claws. His outfit was chosen because it exudes confidence, power and authority. 

Sometimes these features bleed over into Masters, especially when he’s trying to scare someone. A business is refusing to sell to the billionaire will notice that the man’s teeth seem sharper than is normal. He grips someone’s hand to shake and it’s not only strong but sharp nails cut into the skin. Sometimes you catch him in the wrong light and his skin has a bluish tint like he’s a walking corpse instead of a man. 

Danny Fenton/Phantom is obsessed with protection, usually of his town but he himself often falls under that umbrella. He seeks to protect his identity more than anything out a reasonable fear for his life and freedom. Danny Fenton wants people to overlook him, to be invisible so that they don’t see anything out of the ordinary with him. His features are painfully average, any scars or distinguishing features from his ghost fights either disappear outright or get ignored. He hides in plain sight, his ghostly nature causing other people to look the other way when they really ought to pay attention to what’s going on with him.  

Danny Phantom meanwhile, very consciously acts the opposite of his human counterpart to keep up the illusion of being separate people. He glows brightly, more than some of the other ghosts to emphasize his ghostly abilities. His facial features are faded and sometimes hard to discern, a clear attempt to avoid recognition. But despite how ghostly he looks, he makes sure not to lean too far into unlike Vlad. He wants to be their hero, their protector, and to do so, he can’t frighten them. It’s why he won’t develop fangs or unnatural coloring or features. He wants to look as human, as comforting as possible so the people he’s saving won’t run in fear of him. He’ll update and upgrade his costume, age appropriately but he never wants to look anything but a strangely colored, glowing human. 

[undead-merman]

Could you do yandere headcanons of harpy mammon and naga leviathan please . Thank you

This one was fun to do.

🦅Harpy Mammon🦅 and 🐍Naga Leviathan🐍 (Monster Edition) GN- Reader SFW

Mammon

Appearance

Mammon is the unquestioned King of his Murder and the only Albino Crow Harpy. He always stands out in his clan.

His feathers are a snow white unlike others of his kind. The bits of down feathers on the sides of his face, the long elegant wings, and even his tail feather don’t have a trace of color to them, they shine brightly in the morning sun, and glow ever so softly under the moon.

His legs from the knee down are avian like and tipped with golden talons. One foot is large enough to grasp a human head all the way around and strong enough to crush one easily. His hands are more human-like only with sharp talons for fingernails.

His wrists and shoulders hold some feathers as well, and a large chunk of his upper back is covered in plumage. It looks so soft and plush, but the softest feathers are the ones on his cheeks.

Avian Habits

His avian instincts are extremely strong and he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing unless he’s called out, though none of the other members of his crew say anything, worried that he’ll get angry at them.

If he’s flying and notices something shiny, he’ll probably forget what he was doing immediately and dive down to inspect it. He’ll coo at it like it was a baby while cuddling it in his arms and take it back to the house to his nest and find a nice place for it.

He’s very protective of his nest and room, he gets all bristled and puffed up if someone knocks on the door. If they just suddenly come in, Mammon will screech at them.

He has a very sensitive stomach and will never admit to having one, so he’ll secretly eat small rocks to help his digestion like other birds do.

Spending time with you

At first he wanted nothing to do with you, but now he never wants you to leave his side. He doesn’t want anyone else to spend time with you, he wants to be the only thing you look at.

If someone touches you he’ll spread his wings and tail feathers out and hold you behind his back while he yells at whoever touches you. Afterward he pouts and becomes needy/broody, wanting to be touching you or if he’s mad enough just sits on you while he calms down.

Eventually he’ll have slowly moved all your stuff into his room and has made a bunch of excuses for you to stay inside his room. He wants to be the first thing you see when you wake up and go to bed. If you try to sleep in your own room he’ll whine until you open the door, or even just break in and steal you back to his room and tuck you into his nest.

He will never admit it but he loves it when you give him head pats and you brush your thumb right between his eyes. It sends such a happy shiver up his spine and all his feathers fluff up, as his tail feathers wag briefly. He’ll deny up and down that he enjoyed it that much however.

He also enjoys the thrill of carrying you around while flying. He loves to laugh at you as you hang onto him. He loves to swing you around and throw you only to catch you again. If you’re scared of heights however he’ll do baby exposure until you trust him enough not to drop you or you don’t freak out as he flies.

Whenever he sees you by surprise his feathers puff up high and his tail feathers wag a bit, as he runs towards you no matter what he was doing beforehand.

His Dark Tenancies

In his mind, you’re already mates ever since you hurt your arm and seemed so small and fragile. After the event you were constantly tailed by him. He's right at your heels even when you don’t want him to be, you’d be able to feel his eyes on you at all times.

He LOVES your smell and he loves leaving you smelling like him too. He scents you often, nuzzling his nose and cheeks on the back of your neck and wrists and anywhere else he can.

You’ll have some freedom, he’ll allow you to wonder the House of Lamentation but should you for any reason make him feel like you and his brothers are getting to close or you prove your self ‘untrustworthy’ he’ll take you to an isolated mountain nest, the location only known by him and his Murder.

You’ll have your freedom there too, but it’s really hard to call freedom. If you wander too far you’ll freeze to death and even before you perish one if his cronies will take you back. Always watching and waiting to bring you home to their master.

If anyone came to try and ruin what you two have, he’d make sure they were beaten to within an inch of their life, promising to whoever it was that he’d kill them if they ever tried again; gathering black mail and pressuring them to give in and forget everything that happened between you all.

If they continued to threaten you two, Mammon would simply let his Murder tear them to pieces and leave them to fester and rot. or if he’s feeling particularly angry that day, he’ll crush their skulls with his claws.

Misc Stuff

He likes the rain, even more he loves thunderstorms. He likes to sing in the cover of rain and he has a beautiful voice though he’s extremely self conscious of it. If he trusts you enough he’ll sing to you but he gets too embarrassed to finish the song.

His songs can influence the listeners emotions, he can make you feel giggly, angry, or scared at any point.

He hates being called a ‘bird brain’ He always gets all hissy and throws a bit of a tantrum before giving them the silent treatment.

Leviathan

Appearance

Leviathan’s body is monstrously long and extremely lithe. His tail constantly curling into perfect loops. His navy blue scales are perfectly smooth and he has black and neon yellow raindrop patches.

He has large hands, larger than most humans, his fingers have transparent navy webbing. His fingers are tipped with long black claws with navy blue coloring. His claws secrete an oil which if entered into the bloodstream could instantly kill a whale, let alone a human. In order to safely touch you with his own hands, instead of his tail, he wears special gloves that prevent the oils from seeping through.

His fangs and indigo forked tongue are long and poke out of his mouth. If bitten he has a completely different venom which causes complete paralysis for a few hours and extreme fatigue afterwards.

He has fined ears which twist and flick with his emotions, they have yellow speckles which glow in the dark or if he’s mad or upset enough.

A Water Naga’s Daily Life

He is not a mermaid. He doesn’t have a tail fin, he doesn’t sing, and he doesn’t play with cute dolphins, he’s a scary monster and he hates it.

He’s nocturnal and bright lights hurt his eyes, if a bright light is suddenly flashed at him he’ll curl into himself in a corner while nursing his burning eyes.

He uses a heating pad, since heat lamps are a nuisance, to warm his cold blooded body, he’ll also listen to the weather forecast to go out on humid nights and lounge while playing on a handheld console to pass the time.

His skin gets really dry if he’s not in water, he gets particularly cranky when dehydrated don’t let him get too dry or he’ll turn into his true water monster form and destroy everything till he can get to water.

He has adaptable lungs so he can breathe in both air and water. He often just sleeps in the bathtub full of water. He enjoys mostly being in water but will breech to play games.

Spending Time with You

He only wants alone time with you, nothing else matters besides spending time alone with you. He prefers it to be inside, but it doesn’t matter what your doing be it baking, playing video games and watching anime it doesn’t matter to him.

Since there's no sun in the Devildom he doesn’t mind taking you out so long as it’s not too crowded and you can bring water bottles with him. He loves waiting in lines for events with you sitting on his tail helping to keep him from drying out.

He loves lounging with you. Be you swimming around his immense body or using him as a flotation device. He likes being in his element with you, it makes him feel so euphoric to see you swimming around with streaks of light beaming through the water on your face while your hair floats around you like a halo, you look so innocent and warm.

He always has his tail wrapped around one of your legs, he even does it unconsciously, he has a fascination with your legs he finds the appanages cute. Sometimes he’ll even wiggle your toes if he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

His tail quivers if you gently pat his head and praise him, he always covers his head and shrinks down but he loves every second of it. He also loves it when you scratch behind his ear, he lets out a soft whine of content.

His Dark Tendencies

He does NOT like anyone seeing you at all. He wants to be the only one you pay attention to or even think about. He’ll have a nice comfortable chain for you so you can’t leave the room. He’ll want to do everything for you, feed you, dress you up as his favorite characters, clean you, he sees you like a little doll to play with and dress up.

If you make him upset he’ll bite you and force you into a paralyzed state you can’t move, you can’t talk, you can only watch and listen to what is happening around you. He punishes you by just leaving you there unable to move, unable to eat or drink, he’ll only come back when he feels you’ve learned your lesson.

He loves to play with your hair, petting it with dangerously sharp claws. He loves how soft it is and the color is just so appealing to him he can’t help but admire it. While he may be self deprecating he at least knows he is capable of keeping you in your place.

He does not like competition or anyone ruining his time with you. As soon as it becomes a problem to him, he goes into a fit destroying whoever it was who made him angry, afterwards he clings onto you like his life depended on it.

He sleeps with his tail completely wrapped around you. That way he can be close to you and you don’t have a chance of slipping away from him as he sleeps. His tail is heavy against you and just a light squeeze from him could break you.

Misc Stuff

When he sheds he complains constantly of the itching. He applies lotion and will be so grateful if you help him apply it, but after shedding his skin is very sensitive and he hides in his tank with Henry until the sensitivity calms down.

Under black light his liquids glow insanely bright, and some scales shine bright.

He has super soft hands from washing them a lot cleaning off the oils, unfortunately you’re prohibited from touching them for safety reasons.

[megatronsmikubinder]

[ID: digital art of Luv, a brightly colored humanoid with flamelike hair, a heart mask, a halter top with a heart cutout, and long fingerless gloves. Luv's color palette varies from drawing to drawing. in this one, they are neon green, blue, and purple. end ID.]

drew @neon-ufo 's Luv because i was bored

[cupcraft]

NEED to know what u think o!beau would wear to the gala. i think she would try to include a fuckton of feathers regardless of theme just because she loves being a chicken so much

I think o!Beau's outfit would be like 95% feathers. Like the entire skirt would be feathers, like feather gloves, like poofy large and brightly colored neon blue or something. I also think she'd lay an egg in the middle of the gala.

[laffy-taffy-creations]

Fun fact: this was inspired by/made to go along with a song I wrote the lyrics for!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just Breathe...

TW: near death, implied drowning, panic attacks and loss of sense of reality

It was slightly tainted, they both knew it. But they managed to hold on. They'd known each other for years, been friends since they met in…what was it, elementary school? 2nd grade? Yeah, 2nd grade.

They led vastly different lives, and usually stayed away from each other during the day, I mean, what could they say? They barely shared anything in common anymore, but their connection was still there. None of the others would be able to understand, none of them had something like that. It was rather rare.

The only thing they had in common was video game and movie preferences from practically growing up together, and a few mannerisms here and there. 

But it'd be lying to say that was it. No, there was one more major component to their relationship. An interest in biology and mechanics. A desire to learn. And a shared dream to be able to engineer things people had never thought of before.

Passion was the true key to their relationship. 

Nobody would've bat an eye at the two chatting in class, usually about work, but most assumed they didn't like each other. They avoided each other in the hallways. They were never seen together anywhere else. And they had many conflicting things.

The first one, Max, was rather emo. Dark clothes, dark hair with random bright streaks, rode a skateboard, really artsy, didn't watch a ton of movies (or at least didn't talk about them), and had a bit of a black thumb. They were introverted, and chaotic, sometimes breaking a few rules under the pressure of friends (which they hated deeply), brave and very protective of their friends.

Contrast this to Farron. The extroverted, really sporty, brightly colored Farron who couldn't draw for shit, loved talking about their recent watches, who was also a bit chaotic but stayed within the lines, somehow didn't know how to swim and was deathly afraid of water, and could seemingly always bring a plant to life. Confidence came naturally, yet bravery was only a maybe, and only protective when the ones they cared for were in serious situations.

They were complete opposites in the eyes of the public. They were both able to ring-lead their groups, yet usually did so to get the groups away from another. They seemed only alike in their report cards.

If someone had figured out the two were friends, good for them. That would've been a feat and a half. But figuring out they had the same dream would've been… well, it would've been like honey in a water well. 

Not only would it be completely unheard of, and practically impossible to happen, but it worked as a good analogy. You drop the bucket down in, getting deep in thought, and when your mind eventually reaches the conclusion, or the honey, it's unexpected. The bucket will get stuck because the honey is denser than water, and you can't bring it back up to share with friends, they wouldn't believe you, so your mind stays stuck on the subject matter. It would also just seem too sweet to be true.

But what wasn't too sweet to be true was Max's skip as they went to the park to meet Farron during the late hours. "Hey Maxie," Farron greeted them. It would be difficult not to notice them despite how darkly they tried to dress. Neon orange hair just doesn't blend in with darkness that well when there's a street lamp nearby. They had on some black shorts with fishnets underneath, and white boots since nothing they had was black, and it was better than something colorful. They also had on a dark blue T-shirt, and some Kandi bracelets over fingerless gloves. As for makeup, one eye had light green eyeshadow, the other light blue, and hot pink lipstick that somehow went with the look, maybe it was the bracelets?

Max couldn't believe how obvious they were, despite making it clear they were meant to not be seen, but then again, this was the best they were gonna get. And honestly, anything more really wouldn't fit Farron, they looked better like this, more themselves. 

Max was dressed in a black jacket, pink top slightly showing through because they knew it'd match Farron a bit more than just plain grayscale, black jeans and some sneakers. They had on a few pieces of Kandi jewelry gifted to them by their friend too.

"What's up paddleboat?" Max joked back. It was an inside joke. When they met, Max misheard their name as ferry. Now, they called them anything related to boats, favoring the nickname paddleboat.

They both laughed for a bit before going to the swings. They talked while they hung out at the playground, laughing and playing and sharing highs and lows of the day. It was natural, it was routine. Eventually they put on some face masks and went over to the local ice cream parlor. Everything was going great. 

Sitting down at one of the high tables with elevated chairs that make your feet higher than the floor unless you're a giant, Max continued trying to teach Farron how to draw. It seemed insane that the best they could do were stick figures, they'd grown up with Max and had tried many times to replicate the ways they drew things, yet never got any closer. So maybe a different approach would be necessary.

"Alright, try thinking of a random thing. First thing that comes to mind," Max said. Farron made a thinking face, then said, "You," while booping Max on the nose playfully. They chuckled and said, "Alright. That makes this easier. Here, I've got plenty of spare paper. Try drawing me, and you can look up at me if you need a reference."

They slid over some paper and a pencil before trying to start on their own drawing. They figured it was only right to draw Farron since Farron was drawing them. After a while, they looked up and noticed Farron pouting. 

"What's wrong paddleboat?" They asked. "I-...How. How do you draw me so well. I need to know, my drawing looks like shit," they said, taking a bite of ice-cream presumably to cheer up. It looked cute. As always. 

Max giggled a bit then looked down at the drawing. "It looks amazing. Hey, look on the bright side, it's not a stick figure and it looks like me. Practice makes progress, and that's some damn good progress," they responded. And it was true. Each time they tried to draw Max, not something else like a character, it looked better than most of their other attempts. This one wasn't quite the best, but it was getting there. They still had a long ways to go, but it was definite progress. 

"You're just saying that because you're my friend," Farron countered, looking rather down. "Actually, no. This is progress. Considering I have already taken this path when I learned how to draw, you're getting there. You wanna make another?" Max said. Farron took another bite of ice-cream and nodded. They pushed their other drawing out of the way and hesitated before starting the second. 

They looked up several times, and after a while put down the pencil with a sigh. "This is the best I can do. Sorry," they apologized. "Don't be!" Max replied quickly. "Let's look at the drawing, then you can decide whether to be ashamed or proud."

Sliding the drawing in front of themselves, Max looked it over. It looked way better than any of the others they'd made, setting a brand new standard. "Ok. Look at this drawing. Then look me in the eyes and try to tell me that it isn't better than a month ago when all you could do was stick figures," they said in a slightly demanding tone, holding up the drawing.

The person on it had an oval not a head, the body was a rectangle, the arms and legs went straight down, and the hands and feet were scribbled away. But it was a person. Drawn in a childish way, but that was okay. Everybody had to start somewhere, and at least the anatomy wasn't very fucked up.

"I…I guess it's better…" Farron reluctantly agreed. Max nodded then tried to slide the paper back over, but Farron rejected it. "You can keep it," they said. 

Max scoffed. "At least sign it. I like it, and would love a constant reminder it's from you," they said, sliding it back over. Farron hesitated again, then picked up the pencil and signed. "Thank you, now, what do you want to do? Because it's clearly not draw. We could watch a movie back at my place," Max offered, pocketing the now precious piece of paper. 

Farron nodded at the suggestion and let their friend play gentleman as they got down, walking over and extending an arm. Farron giggled slightly as they gave Max their hand, who then kissed it before helping them down from the seat and pushing it in, and placing an arm over Farron's shoulders as they walked out of the shop. 

When they got to Max's house, it turned into an impromptu sleepover. They fell asleep cuddling one another as the movie Farron had picked finished. This seemed to be the catalyst. 

They both got to school late because they weren't meant to have a sleepover, and got a small scolding before they could get ready, and arrived late to the annoyance of their 2 friend groups. 

"Why're you late?" One of Max's friends asked. "Oh, nothing, just got a bit tangled up with someone on the way to school," they said, glossing over what really happened. They made the mistake of looking over in Farron's direction. While it didn't seem like something obvious, they could tell their friends were trying to put 2-and-2 together. And if they did, they would be off by a long shot.

It seemed like the group didn't mind too much, they invited Max out for something later that day. At the park by the lake. So, it was probably fine. 

They made it through the day but didn't quite see Farron as much as they would've liked, but that was fine. They needed people thinking it was just a normal day, so seeking out Farron wasn't exactly something they should do.

They made their way to the park, and had some banter with their friends before they got to the lake. What they saw shocked them. 

Farron had been taken by their friends and tied to a tree by the lake. The lake. Farron couldn't swim.

"Guys…what's the meaning of this?..." they asked nervously as the saw something they thought would've been unthinkable. It got a few vicious glares paired with confident smirks. "We've had enough of this bitch tormenting you. So we thought we'd do you a favour and get rid of them permanently," One of them said. 

Max's eyes met Farron's. They couldn't scream, they'd been gagged. And their eyes were pleading to be let free. Asking Max to run over and get them out. All Max could do was look at them with fear, not of Farron, but of what their friends were willing and capable of doing. They took in a shaky breath and returned their focus to their supposed friend group. "What exactly caused this? Was it me being late today? Because if so you've got this all wrong guys…"

"Nah, it's not just that. They sliced open your cheek, they literally attacked you! We can't just let that slide!" A different one shouted. Max was furious now. "This scratch was from my cat 2 days ago! If you were really me friends you would've noticed that! Now let them go!" Max yelled at them.

Quietly and almost undetecedly, they got their phone, swiped right to send it to the camera, and started recording without the group knowing. Something needed to be done with them, even if they let Farron go without a struggle, and they couldn't go to the police without evidence.

One of them sighed dramatically and went over to Farron, untied them from the tree, and undid the gag, sending a wave of relief over Max. That was, until they almost effortlessly took Farron by the collar and ran to lake, releasing them before toppling over the edge and letting momentum do its thing, sending Farron into a deep part of the lake. 

Max screamed out for them, watching it all unfold in seconds. They were frozen in shock for a few seconds, standing there unable to move. Farron couldn't swim. They wouldn't be able to get back up on their own. Then their body kicked into high gear, a rush of adrenaline coursing through them as they ran towards the lake, pushing past the person who stood in their way, and diving in.

Swimming down, down, not caring about the light yet painful pounding in their lungs as air tried to escape. They needed to breathe. But Farron did too. Eventually, they made it, hand grasping at Farron's wrist and trying to tug them up. 

Once they got a secure hold, they managed to maneuver their friend onto their back like a piggyback ride, and swam up. They savored the way their lungs felt as they broke the surface of the water. They took in a deep breath, and began swimming back to shore. They made it, putting Farron down on the ground infront of them as the gravity of the situation started settle on them.

They began to panic. Their friend was on the verge of death. 10 more seconds underwater and they'd probably be dead right now. But now there was a different issue. Getting them to breathe. They began trying CPR, but it seemed futile. Their friend wasn't sputtering back to life. Their heart was slowing. And being drenched in cold lake water wasn't helping them. 

"Paddleboat, paddleboat, out at sea, tell me all of the things you see…" Max said, remembering the nursery rhyme they came up with so long ago, voice quivering and cracking as they kept back tears. No response showing. 

They were getting really scared. Their confidence was crumbling like a house of cards, blown by a small breeze. So easily knocked down. They worried Farron wouldn't make it. They looked behind them. Their ex-friends were staring at them in disbelief. "Well?!? You caused this! One of you call 911!" They shouted in anger and grief.

No one did anything. "Fine, I'll do it myself," they said. Pulling out their phone, thankful it hadn't dropped from their pocket in the lake and was waterproof, they stopped the recording and dialed 911. "Hello, 911, what's your emergency?" The operator said within seconds.

"I'm at the lake by XXXXXX Park, one of my friends almost drowned and they aren't responding!" Max said into the receiver. "Ok, officers will be over in a few minutes. Do you know what happened?" The person on the other side asked. Max set down the phone and put it on speaker so they could continue CPR. They nodded as if the operator could see them. "Yeah, some kids threw them in the lake and they can't swim. I got them out but they haven't said anything, barely have a pulse, and aren't breathing!" They answered, panic showing in their voice.

"I'm gonna need you to calm down. The emergency services are on their way," the operator tried to tell them. But they could barely hear them. Their laboured breathing and panic drowned the operator out, Farron taking up all their attention, the gravity and realization of what happened settling in fully now. In a desperate last attempt, they did mouth-to-mouth CPR, trying not to think to much about it. 

Sirens started taking over their hearing, and the panic only rose from that sense of overstimulation. 

Farron started drifting out of their grip, as the paramedics got them out from under Max, and was laid on a stretcher. They were rushed out, and Max was taken by a few police officers who they were almost inclined to fight, thinking they were in trouble. The officers words were also drowned out by panic and the flow of blood and more adrenaline rushing through them as they were unable to distinguish reality from fabrication and everything happening in such a daze it seemed like a nightmare.

They were in the backseat of an officers car, and were handed back their phone. They gripped it hard enough to shatter the whole thing, trying to ground themselves to reality. Someone buckled their seat belt, and they started holding onto that instead so they wouldn't break their phone, a slight sense of logic and responsibility making its way back to their brain.

They then had a breakdown, beginning to cry and handed something soft, - a pillow or stuffed animal maybe? - and squeezed it as everything that just happened seemed to hit them all at once. 

The car started moving, and they eventually fell asleep, the soothing vibrations of the police car under them and softness of whatever they'd been given lulling them into quiet. The weight of the day was just to much, and they needed some quiet rest time.