#Credits to Sun! And tysm!!

[s-a-f-u-n-a]

Tysm Sun(USD comms open!!) On discord!

I just to give a special shout out and thanks to Sun(USD comms open!!) On discord for drawing my oc Bái Hé so beautifully. 🥹

So credits to them if you want to go check them out here's their carrd if you want to pay for a commission (which you def should) https://caramellcomms.carrd.co/ (also this is the new outfit design that I was thinking of giving her which was inspired by this outfit I found on pinterest so credits to the person on pinterest who designed it!)

[ahqkas]

Hii! I love ur writing sm could I get blurbs of the batboys on their wedding day with a gn reader? Tysm if you choose to write this 🙏🙏

♯YOU’RE THE ONLY GOOD THING IN MY LIFE

— gn!reader, mention of reader’s hair in dick’s blurb, i recommend listening to HIM ( for example )

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

THE GRAND BUILDING of wayne manor seemed even more striking today, bathed in the golden light of an early morning sun. the sprawling estate had been prepared for the occasion, elegant floral arrangements lining the grounds, their soft fragrance mingling with the crisp air. despite the planning, the day felt intimate, almost sacred—a rare glimpse into the man behind gotham’s most famous name.

bruce wayne stood in front of the floor-length mirror in his suite, adjusting the cuffs of his perfectly tailored black suit. the tie was already straight, the jacket fitted to perfection, but his hands lingered. a rare sign of nerves. alfred, standing a few paces away, gave him a knowing look, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips.

“you’re fidgeting, master wayne,” alfred pointed out gently, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “i don’t believe i’ve ever seen you this unsettled.”

bruce paused, exhaling slowly as he dropped his hands to his sides. “it’s not nerves,” he said, though the slight quirk of his brow betrayed him. “it’s . . . anticipation.”

“ah, of course,” the butler replied, stepping forward to adjust bruce’s pocket square with practiced precision. “a monumental day, indeed. though, if i may say so, [name] already endured countless dinners with the board of wayne enterprises and spent more time in the batcave than i ever expected of anyone not wearing a cape. i daresay they’re ready for this.”

the bat man chuckled softly, shaking his head. “i know they are. it’s me i’m worried about. for once, it feels like i can’t afford to get it wrong, alfred.”

alfred’s gaze softened, and he rested a reassuring hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “if there’s one thing you’ve gotten right, master wayne, it’s them.”

bruce’s lips pressed into a small, grateful smile, but before he could respond, the door creaked open, and dick peeked his head in. “hey, it’s almost time,” he said, grinning as he took in bruce’s uncharacteristically pensive demeanor. “you ready?”

the main man of the day glanced at the mirror one last time before nodding, his confidence returning with each step toward the life he was about to solidify.

DICK GRAYSON

THE SUN WAS beginning to set over the city, casting golden hues across the skyline as the ceremony transitioned into the reception. the rooftop of the gotham conservatory had been transformed into a romantic haven, strings of fairy lights crisscrossing above, glowing softly like fireflies. the gentle hum of conversation and clinking glasses mixed with the distant sounds of the city below, but dick’s focus was entirely on you.

you stood a few feet away, talking animatedly with barbara gordon, your laughter ringing out like music to his ears. dick found himself frozen, his heart stumbling in his chest upon the sight of you. you looked stunning, of course, but it wasn’t just that. it was the way you smiled, the way you held yourself, the way you seemed to brighten the space around you.

you were glowing.

this was it. this was his life now—your life now. together ( forever ) .

he shook himself out of his reverie as barbara caught his eye and shot him a knowing look before excusing herself politely from your conversation. you turned toward him, your smile softening into something more intimate as your eyes met.

“hi, husband,” you teased as he crossed the space to you, your voice low enough that only he could hear.

dick grinned, slipping his arms around your waist as he pulled you closer. “hi, my love.” he leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple in a soft kiss. “you having fun?”

you gave him a nod, resting your hands on his chest as you looked up at him. “i think so. everyone seems happy, and the food’s amazing. but what about you? you’ve been running around all day. when are you going to take a break and actually enjoy your own wedding?”

a chuckle escaped his lips while his long fingers traced absent patterns against the small of your back. “i’m enjoying it right now. you’re here. that’s all i need.”

your cheeks flushed slightly, but you rolled your eyes, playfully swatting his arm. “you’re such a sap.”

“and you married me anyway,” he shot back, leaning down until his forehead rested lightly against yours. he could feel your every breath, could inhale the very smell of your perfume. some might say a core memory formed at that moment, one he’d replay every time before he went to bed.

“questionable decision,” you teased, though the warmth in your eyes betrayed your words.

dick laughed, his smile as bright and effortless as the first time you met. he reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face before cradling your cheek in his palm. “you’re incredible, you know that? this whole day—it’s perfect because of you. i don’t know how i got so lucky, but i promise, i’m not taking a second of it for granted.”

the sincerity in his voice made your heart ache in the best way, and you leaned into his touch, your hand covering his. “you’re pretty incredible yourself, grayson. and if anyone’s lucky, it’s me.”

he shook his head, his grin turning almost boyish. “nope. i’m definitely winning here. but we can call it even if you let me have this dance.”

you raised a brow, glancing at the small dance floor where a few couples swayed to the soft music drifting from the live quartet. “we’ve already danced, like, three times.”

“yeah, well, it’s our wedding. i’m legally obligated to monopolize you tonight.”

as the music swelled around you, the city lights twinkling in the distance, you knew without a doubt that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

JASON TODD

THE RECEPTION WAS in full swing, the wayne manor gardens glowing under a canopy of twinkling fairy lights strung between towering oak trees. lanterns dotted the grounds, casting soft golden hues over the tables draped in white linens. the sound of music carried through the crisp evening air, blending with laughter and the hum of conversation as friends and family celebrated the night away.

jason stood near the bar, his tie loosened, one hand wrapped around a glass of champagne he hadn’t really touched. his gaze was locked on you across the dance floor, where you were laughing at something alfred had just said. the old butler had a warm smile as he handed you another slice of cake, and you accepted it with the kind of grin that made jason’s chest ache.

your outfit was making you look like something out of a dream. his dream. jason had always thought weddings were too much—too over-the-top, too showy. but now, seeing you like this, he got it.

you spotted him before he reached you, your laughter softening into a warm smile as your eyes met. he held out a hand towards you, his touch gentle but firm, like he was grounding himself in the moment. “dance with me?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear, a rare softness coloring his tone.

you didn’t even hesitate, setting your plate down and slipping your hand into his. “i thought you’d never ask.”

jason led you to the center of the dance floor, the noise around you fading as he pulled you close. one hand rested on your waist, the other clasping yours, his movements steady despite the usual roughness of his demeanor. the music slowed, and the two of you swayed together, your head resting against his shoulder as the world narrowed to just the two of you.

“i still can’t believe this is real,” he murmured after a while, his voice a little rough, like he was holding back more than he was saying.

you lifted your head to look at him, your smile soft and teasing. “what? that you’re married? or that you survived a wedding without causing a scene?”

he huffed a quiet laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “both, probably. but mostly you. us. i never thought i’d get something like this. someone like you.”

your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were something precious. “jason,” you breathed out his name softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “you deserve this. you deserve every bit of happiness in the world. even if you don’t think so.”

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you, but i’m not letting go. not ever.”

“you better not,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly, emotion thick in your throat.

jason leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered, as if he was memorizing the feel of you in his arms. when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, his lips curling into the kind of smile he only ever gave you—soft, private, unguarded. a smile that was yours and yours only.

TIM DRAKE

THE RECEPTION WAS winding down, the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the gardens of wayne manor. the gentle hum of conversation and laughter mingled with the distant chirp of crickets, but tim was oblivious to it all. he stood under the sprawling oak tree where the two of you had first shared a quiet moment earlier in the evening. now, it was just the two of you, the chaos of the day finally giving way to a well deserved moment of peace.

tim looked at you, his suit jacket draped over his arm, his tie slightly loosened, and his dark hair still perfectly messy despite the long day. you were sitting on the edge of the stone bench beneath the tree. the faintest blush of moonlight kissed your features, making you look like something out of a dream.

he hesitated for a moment, as if trying to commit the image of you to memory, before finally stepping forward and offering you his hand. “dance with me?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with that quiet confidence you’d always found so endearing.

you looked up, a small smile playing on your lips. “there’s no music.”

tim shrugged, his hand still outstretched. “doesn’t mean we can’t dance.”

you let out a quiet laugh but slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet. he guided you to the soft patch of grass beneath the tree, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. his movements were a little stiff at first, the awkwardness that always crept in when he wasn’t behind a computer screen or a mission plan. but as you rested your head against his shoulder, he relaxed, his fingers curling slightly against your back.

the world seemed to shrink around you, the distant sounds of the reception fading away until it was just the rustle of the wind in the trees and the soft rhythm of your breathing. tim’s heart thudded against your cheek, steady and grounding, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“you know,” you murmured after a moment, your voice breaking the silence, “i think this is my favorite part of the day.”

your husband pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you. “really? not the ceremony? or the cake? or bruce’s awkward toast?”

you laughed at the memory of bruce’s overly formal speech, but shook your head. “those were great. But this . . . this feels like us. quiet, simple, just real.”

“i like that. us.”

you tilted your head, your gaze searching his. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “because no matter what happens, no matter how crazy things get, this is what i’ll always come back to. you and me.”

the two of you swayed there for a while longer, the rest of the world forgotten as the stars glittered above. and in that moment, beneath the old oak tree and the soft glow of the lanterns, you knew you’d found your forever.

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜𝐡. 𝟐 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 '𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

poly! carlando x reader | read chapter one here. | join taglist

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ this is the entire intro to the second chapter. in the outline, it's called "the first strike." any predictions? well, you're in for a ride, let me tell you that. full chapter two coming soon. tysm for being patient and understanding x

On this Monday in May, you’re awake before the sun, watching it rise over Madrid as you drive to Golf La Moraleja. This summer begins the same as those before it, with your coworkers complaining about being required to attend a meeting—filled with the same information you’ve all heard every year since you first started—and, holding it so early in the morning. 

Your eyes ache from lack of sleep but it doesn’t hinder you from complaining all the same; returning employees should be allowed to skip the first meeting of the season as it’s more of an orientation for the new hires. Marco, your boss, disagrees. He says that senior employees need to be present to set a good example of the standards and expectations for the rookies. 

You’re unsure if a group of seven, sleep-deprived, twenty-something-year-old, beverage cart drivers could be described as a “good example.” At least there’s a breakfast spread. The seven of you can be good examples of how to take advantage of a free meal.

As Marco drones on about procedures and policies, your mind drifts to the late-night you had. 

Your eyes burn with exhaustion because you missed out on a few hours of sleep to talk with your boyfriends. You listened as Lando ranted about how disappointing his car performed this weekend and Carlos still seemed surprised that he managed to hold onto fifth place with a time penalty. Neither of the boys wanted to sweat out more of their body weight in water in a packed, humid, Miami club after a particularly demanding race, but you convinced them to at least have a drink or two with Fernando Alonso to celebrate his podium finish.

You may not have the most in-depth Formula One knowledge, but you know that dragging that Aston Martin onto the podium is an astounding feat. Carlos admires the man greatly, even if he pretends to be salty about being the second-favorite Spanish F1 driver. Lando respects Alonso largely as well, he talks kindly about the time he spent shadowing him at McLaren.

You styled their outfits for the night with sleepy eyes. Carlos endlessly showered you with compliments every time he glanced at you through the screen of his laptop. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered at every endearment; you believed in the hermosa’s and linda’s with each repetition, even as your phone mirrored the image of you: makeup-free, bonnet, and pimple patch-riddled.

Lando (after Carlos kicked him out of the bathroom for being unable to control his wandering hands) splayed across the hotel bed on his stomach, the love ? —the longing he has for you is visible through the pixels. His feet kicked back and forth behind him mindlessly as he attentively listened to you ramble about the authorship credit you received in a textbook for research you did last year.

You sighed deeply. If only the world knew how these two men ended the call by blowing kisses through the screen, whining about having to wait another couple of months until they get to see you in person. 

If the world knew, maybe that woman in the club wouldn’t have tried (and failed) to make a move on your boys.

When your alarm sounded for today’s early morning meeting, you awoke to the sight of your phone being spammed with Twitter links and texts with your name in all caps.

The hashtag Carlando is trending on Twitter because of an anonymous submission to a gossip account that details Lando and Carlos “getting cozy” with a woman in a club. Thankfully, the anonymous submission was proven false—with photo evidence, at that. 

The first photo caused a sense of dread to build within you. It shows a blond woman standing next to them at the bar, her beady eyes predatory as she stares up at Carlos with a disgusting smirk and her hand is offensively outstretched, tugging at the collar of his polo. Lando, who’s standing next to the Spaniard, looks at her with an expression of shock and disbelief, while Carlos only offers her his trademarked confused stare.

The second photo transformed that sense of dread into a feeling of relief, pity, amusement, and vicarious embarrassment. 

The image captured the woman dropping her hand away with an annoyed frown and a sharp glare thrown at Lando, whose disposition has switched from surprised to unimpressed, illustrated by his well-known disgruntled nose scrunch. Carlos isn’t looking at the woman anymore, he’s taken a step backward and is staring at Lando. His hand is clasped on the younger man’s shoulder and he’s seemingly trying to pull him away from the woman.

You wish there were more photos. 

The online consensus is that the woman in the photo needs to change her entire identity if she wishes to have another peaceful day on Earth. The F1-adjacent internet is clowning this poor girl about her seduction attempt on Carlos going so terribly that Lando had to put a stop to it. There’s a smaller portion of people saying that Lando couldn’t handle the sight of somebody trying to flirt with Carlos right in front of him—they’re closer to being correct than they know.

Nevertheless, you kind of feel sad for the woman: waking up after a night out with a nasty hangover only to find out you’re being lambasted on social media because there’s photo evidence of you being rejected after a terrible attempt at flirting. You refuse to imagine it; seeing her experience is enough for you. 

While it’s early morning in Spain, it’s midnight in Florida. The two men are asleep and unaware of their current trending status. Hopefully, that will last until you’ve returned home from this staff meeting and taken a long nap. But, damn, you’re dying to know exactly what Lando said that had her looking so insulted. 

You jolt to attention at a tap on your shoulder.

“Muchacha, the meeting is finished,” Isa’s eyes match your exhaustion, “Were you even paying attention?”

“Does it matter if I was?” You ask, heaving yourself out of your seat and waiting for your friend to do the same. “We’ve had the handbook read to us for the last five years. Zoning out during this orientation doesn’t matter to me.”

“¿Perdóname?”

You turn around to see one of the new hires addressing you. The first thing you notice is that he’s tall, like an American basketball player, type of tall. The second thing you notice is that he can’t be any older than twenty; unless he’s lucky enough to be so babyfaced. He’s tall and lanky, sporting sharp cheekbones, a nose that reminds you of Carlos, a pair of eyes similar to Lando’s, and an artfully styled mess of dirty blonde curls atop his head. Objectively speaking, he’d make a hell of a supermodel.

“I’m Alejandro, or Alé. I wanted to introduce myself before I started training with you tomorrow,” he states kindly, with a broad smile.

Zoning out during this orientation suddenly mattered very much. Last summer—sometime in June, before Carlos and Lando reappeared—you offered to train an employee if Marco needed the extra help. You must have missed the part of the meeting when he assigned Alejandro to you.

“Oh! Yes, sorry,” you introduce yourself to the kid kindly, apologizing mindlessly, “I am very tired and I was not paying attention—don’t tell Marco that. I’m supposed to be setting a good example for the new kids.”

He laughs, “I think you are a great example of reminding everyone to sleep for at least eight hours every night.”

“I can’t disagree with that, can I?” You smile politely, “Well, I promise I’ll be a better role model when training officially starts. You’re stuck with me for a month, right?”

“I would not say I am ‘stuck’ with you—that would be mean,” Alejandro snorts lightly, “But, yes. I will be riding along with you for a month. Marco says that I’m lucky to be paired with you.”

“Did he?”

“Sí. He said you’re one of his best cart servers and that you bring in the most tips.”

Isa snorts behind you. Without needing to look, you reach behind to smack her on the back of the head. He doesn’t need to know that your secret relationship with two Formula One drivers is responsible for the extra money you made last year.

“I’m a young woman working on a golf course. Which, is why I make plenty of tips.”

Alejandro hums, raising a brow, “Really?”

“There’s more than a few sleazy men that come out here willing to throw cash at anyone who wears a smile, skirt, and pigtails.”

“Ah, well,” he shrugs jokingly, his picture-perfect smile relaxing into something natural, “I do not have enough hair for pigtails and could not pull off a skirt. I do think I can manage a smile.”

Squinting, you survey his form, “Don’t worry; there are men out there who prefer the sight of boys in tight shirts and short shorts instead of girls in short skirts. Ask Ryan or Rob. They make more money than me some days!”

“Is this your fancy plan to get me into tighter clothes?” Oh. He’s misunderstood you.

“Wow,” you deadpan, “You caught me. No, niño, I’m only ‘training’ you on how to make your wallet very happy. If you are uncomfortable with showing a little thigh, that’s okay.”

“I’m a model,” He scoffs with a smirk (you called it, him being a model), “of course, I do not mind showing more skin; however it looks like you want to see me in less clothing, as well.”

Your mouth drops open at the insinuation. Behind you, Isa full-body laughs herself to tears. The rest of your cart team—Lucas, Rob, Ryan, Sofia, and Steph—turns to look at Isa, wanting to know what she finds so funny. The entire clubhouse will know that the new kid tried to flirt with you by the end of the day. 

You shake your head fervently, “Woah, uh, no. ¡Dios mío! I hope I never see what’s under your clothes, full offense. I’m happily in a relationship! Also, not that it matters to me since I’m not interested in you, but—you are way too young for me, niño. It would be best to respect that and forget this part of the conversation ever happened, or it will be an awkward month of training.”

He immediately loses the smirk, stepping backward and raising his hands placatingly, apologetic, “¡Lo siento! I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I assumed you were—well, it does not matter, I assumed you meant more, and that is my fault. Pero, I am not a kid–I am nineteen.”

You and the rest of the eavesdropping beverage cart crew all gasp, abhorred at just how young he is. Does this mean you are all too old to be riding around serving drinks on a golf course?

“Nineteen?! What year were you born in? Never mind, don’t tell me—it’ll make me depressed. Look, niño, you’re forgiven—I could see how telling someone to show off their…assets, could be seen as flirting. So, I’m sorry, too. This is incredibly awkward, let’s never speak of this again?”

“Yes, I agree,” he nods vigorously, “But—Do you have to call me ‘niño?’”

“It fits, though? You are the youngest cart driver we have. Speaking of cart drivers—what’s your phone number? Lucas has to add you to the work chat.”

Your coworkers introduce themselves to Alejandro without hesitation. Conversation flows seamlessly as you all begin to catch up on what’s occurred in your lives since last summer. Rob’s sister-in-law exposed his older brother’s affair over Christmas Dinner, Sofia’s younger sister is pregnant with twins, and Lucas graduated with a degree in journalism. Midway through Ryan’s explanation of how his car was stolen three times in two months, the last two new hires shyly join your discussion. Laura and Giulia are training with Steph and Ryan, respectively. You and the other senior drivers begin to whine about old age when they reveal that they're nineteen, like Alejandro.

Isa catches a ride home with you and she asks if you're going to tell Carlos and Lando about how your trainee tried to make a move on you. You won’t tell them because there’s no reason to. Alejandro apologized and backed off—that’s all that matters to you. Why tell your boyfriends that the kid you’re going to be training tried to flirt with you? It won’t do anything more than make them jealous, probably, and that’s unnecessary.

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© httpsserene - do not repost.

[joelsgoldrush]

wip wednesday: "epiphany" (worst!logan x fem!reader)

third time lucky because i posted this twice with different passages and none of them seemed to satisfy the overachieving monster i am 👹 but let's forget that detail.

this fic is making me crazy... in a good way. i'm enjoying the whole process even though imposter syndrome's hitting harder than ever </3

thank you @moonlight-prose for tagging me 🫂💗

also tysm to @lubdubology because she’s an amazing beta (sorry for tagging you again and again 😭 don’t mind me)

He thought that not seeing you for a week would snuff out his feelings. That by next Wednesday, every thought tied to your name, every urge to uncover the last of your secrets, would be extinguished. That's what time usually did: it diminished dangerous desires that couldn't afford to be voiced, and buried those longings that had no place in the light of day. Logan now figures he’s been underestimating the spell you cast on him with just a few glances and the intensity of your eyes. He’s seen you animated, angry—both defiant and vulnerable. Each of your gestures feels like a memory he can’t quite place. The way you laugh, the right corner of your mouth lifting just slightly higher than the left—he swears it isn’t the first time he's seen a smile brighter than the sun. Still, he convinces himself it’s all in his head. He must be the one losing his mind, the years finally catching up to him. It’s the only reasonable explanation for the thoughts that consume his every waking moment. He’s wrong—you’re right. He’s seeing things where there are none—you’re simply too kind. Too kind. Too young. Too damn clever for your own good, with your books and that sharp mind of yours. He wonders how you see yourself. Do you like the reflection in the mirror? Are you content with the way your life has turned out? Do you, too, lie awake at night, the bed stretching endlessly, aching for a touch that never comes? The walls in this place are paper-thin. When darkness falls, and the moon rises, the big, scary Wolverine can’t close his eyes.  Instead, he listens.  You play the same movie on repeat—a romantic comedy that lasts exactly one hundred and twenty minutes. For two hours straight, he’s privy to your laughter, your commentary at the characters on the screen. He hears you cry when the lead couple drifts apart after a terrible argument, but they always find their way back to each other, and you watch every second until the credits roll. None of the other films you pick ever ends in heartbreak, he realizes. They all have happy endings—the kind you wish for yourself.

no pressure tags: @zloshy @princessanglophile @hauntedhowlett @wlwloverwrites + whoever wants to post sth they´ve written

[shibiichi]

Who want’s candy~

I know thats a chica line but it works for this piece ok?

My sun design in color!! If youd like to use as a pfp or something feel free to! Just please give credit!!! You’re also free to make prints and such for personal use! If you do well.. tysm for thinking my art is cool enough to print out 😭😭😭

Anyways who wants Adderall i mean sundrops!!

[kibellah]

six(ish) song soundtrack - raven tassos

(of fallen hero fame)

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following...

An event that defines your character’s past: ghosts - deftones

Just when I think I'm winning When I've broken every door The ghosts of my life Blow wilder than before Just when I thought I could not be stopped When my chance came to be king The ghosts of my life Blew wilder than the wind

How your character sees themselves: visions of a life - wolf alice and miss world - hole

The skin on my bones is leather cold Poisoned my heart beats slow Fear of crashing and not coming back I'm a curse to my friends, to be condemned Mistakes I made and won't mend Fear of crashing and not coming back I dream of death, its violent breath I'm caught with my maker in step Fear of crashing and not coming back

+

Now I've made my bed, I'll lie in it I've made my bed, I'll die in it I've made my bed, I'll die in it I've made my bed, I'll cry in it I've made my bed, I'll lie in it I've made my bed, I'll cry in it I've made my bed, I'll die in it I've made my bed, I'll lie in it, my friend I am the girl you know, can't look you in the eye

How others view them: the last man on earth - wolf alice

Who are you to ask for anything else? The thing you should be asking is for help You'd like a light to shine on you Let it shine on you Let it shine on you A penny for your truth But I hedge my bets on wealth 'Cause it's lies after lies after lies But do you even fool yourself?

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic): okay sorry going to cheat here and do both ortega and daniel🤸🏼

carry the zero - built to spill (ortega)

And you've become What you thought was dumb A fraction of the sum Yeah, you've become Yeah, you have become A fraction of the sum The middle and the front And now it's coming back Hasn't it come too far? I was trying to help But I guess I pushed too hard Now we can't even touch it Afraid it'll fall apart

i'm your man - mitski (daniel)

You're an angel, I'm a dog Or you're a dog and I'm your man You believe me like a god I'll destroy you like I am I'm sorry I'm the one you love No one will ever love me like you again So when you leave me, I should die I deserve it, don't I?

A major fight scene: this fire burns - killswitch engage

Even through the darkest days This fire burns, always This fire burns, always This is the proving ground As the heat begins to rise Turn away from yesterday Tomorrow's in my eyes, oh Nevermore to be held down By the waves against me Nevermore to be cast aside This day is mine

End Credits: all good things come to an end - nelly furtado

Well, the dogs were barking at the new moon Whistling a new tune Hoping it would come soon And the sun was wondering if it should Stay away for a day 'Til the feeling went away And the sky was falling And the clouds were dropping And the rain forgot how to bring salvation The dogs were barking at the new moon Whistling a new tune Hoping it would come soon, so that they could die

tysm to the lovely @gauntlings for tagging me 🤸🏼<333

divider by @saradika-graphics

tagging... @cryptcombat @50sjello @quendiviner

@misfit-alley @druidgroves @anoras

@veilguards @dekarios @abelas

and anyone else who'd like to do this🫶🏻🫶🏻

[angelicsatin]

Seraph | Miyu Ozora ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

art credit - @ gonhyuun on insta <3

Full Name: Miyu Ozora 美優 桜空 Hero Name: The Angelic Hero: Seraph Age: 15-16 (ages alongside her classmates) Zodiac: Pisces Romantic Interest: Katsuki Bakugou

more info below the cut <3

Personality Traits ʚ ɞ

Positive Traits: Confident, Gentle, Persuasive, Supportive, Nurturing, Courteous, Ambitious, Charming, Calm, Merciful, Sentimental, Intelligent, Sophisticated, Generous, Mature, Disciplined, Studious, Accepting, Proper, Responsible, Analytical, and Kind

Negative Traits: Controlling, Stubborn, Hypocritical/Two-Faced, Defensive, Perfectionist, Spoiled, Vain, Sardonic, Nagging, Pretentious, Can be Vindictive at times, and Judgmental

Likes ʚ ɞ

Being Right

Slapstick Comedy  

Obscure / Niche Trivia

Helping Others

Being Called an Angel

Making Lists

Reading

Drinking Tea

Watching the Sun Rise

Autumn and Summer

Preening

Peace and Quiet

Volleyball

Calligraphy 

Routine

Dislikes ʚ ɞ

Pranks

Being Late 

Short Skirts / Revealing Clothing

Enclosed Spaces

Makeup

Getting Her Wings Wet

Winter or Cold Weather

Carpeted Floor

Wearing Shoes 

Having Her Wings Pulled/Tugged On

Beaches

Functioning Without a Plan 

Theme Parks

Lightning 

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

love love how canon this break time sheet is !! 🥹 tysm to @ gonhyuun for making my girl look so real <3 plus I needed an excuse to share more about her :3

[cherrysmokesaconha]

Hi!! 🖤💗 i wanna ask more about 2trenchcoat this is the first time i heard about it and wanna know more! also got ur art request >:3 im planning to do it soon tysm for that ^^

OMG OMG HIHI!!! I WILL FINALLY YAP ABOUT 2TRENCHCOAT WOHOOO THANK U FOR UR ASK!!! :33

Okay, i will start from the basic shit

“Rarepair” means a ship that appears very infrequently in a fandom or community, while ‘Crackship’ means a ship that involves characters who have never interacted with each other. Crossover ships are a great example of this,

2trenchcoat (AKA 2blackcape or 2blackdress/Ellsworld! 2trenchcoat) is a crackship/rarepair created by me (Cherry). It's a slash/MLM ship between the 2004 version of Tord and a background character, known as "Man with Hockey Mask".

Left pic is 2004 Tord and right pic is Man with Hockey Mask. The masked guy can be seen at minutes 0:13 to 0:15 of the eddisode

Man with Hockey Mask is the second background character (character that isn't Tom, Tord, Edd or Matt) that appeared on the 2004 Christmas Special, the first one being "Delivery Guy" (this guy here vvv he appears from the minutes 0:12 to 0:14 of the same eddisode)

Both of their names are the first ones to appear in the credits.

---

Tord and Man with Hockey Mask has never interacted in canon in any way.

However, the simple fact that they both wear black trench coats (or hoodie/cape if you prefer) is what made me bring this ship into existing, since I interpret it as a headcanon of “matching outfits” in a romantic way (or platonic if ur not me/a shipper).

Maybe i have more to add but i can't remember for now. This post will be updated if i remember something.

---

2trenchcoat can fit so many tropes if u add ur headcanons into it (i personally think Black Cat x Golden Retriever, Sun x Moon and Yapper x LIstener are the ones that fit my headcanons)

But i will leave here some other tropes that i think it fits them according to different headcanons (some of em are from the internet and others i took from my mind)

Black Cat x Black Cat;

One Brain Cell Duo;

Short Silly x Tall serious;

Chaotic Idiot Duo;

Red x Black;

Sun x Moon;

Mostly bored x Makes then laugh;

and maybe others (feel free to add if u know something that fots them!!).

---

My personal headcanons for the masked guy!!

This is a mostly personal part of this post, which includes my personal headcanons for them :3

I mostly call the masked guy "Guy with Hockey Mask" since i misread Man as Guy in the credits once, so it never left my head. But i also have a fan-name for the masked man. I like to call him "Derick Hockermann" (maybe the most known name for him? idk)

I also have a fanon personality for him!

I like to think that Derick is a calm, funny and a happy person! Despite looking scary sometimes (specially when he looks angry), he's still a very nice guy!

He's also short-tempered and sometimes kinda protective and jealous to his lover/friends (not too much!! only when necessary)

Most of the time he doesn't has pupils, but in certain moments, appears a white pupil with a black middle, which makes him look a little more intimidating.

Like this! vv

I also have some personal headcanons for his face

The right one is my main headcanon, the one i use the most (he has freckles, ear piercings, a small beard and green eyes) and the left one is my secondary headcanon, which I use rarely (he has completely white eyes and his face is covered in darkness).

I like to think that Derick likes "the dark part of the internet iceberg", like videos about obscure topics or themes (like iceberg videos or videos commenting on some unsolved criminal case), and he liks to research aboit certain topics too.

I also headcanon Derick to be brazilian and speak brazilian portuguese! And he is also friends with other background characters and even is a member of a gang called "The Troublemakers" (more about this here!)

---

My 2trenchcoat headcanons!!

I personally like to think that Derick and Tord share tastes in common, like bat pajamas, obssesion for guns or being a fan of Manian Mansion 2004 Special Edition, and it all started when Derick decided to talk to Tord and share common tastes, which led to them getting to know each other better.

(Maniac Mansion is this magazine Tord received in the ending of the eddisode ^^)

Derick fell in love with Tord first and Tord fell in love with him afterwards, and then they began a relationship. Both are protective and jealous over each other, but not too much.

Derick sometimes shows Tord his favorite iceberg videos, while Tord shows Derick some of his hentai magazines (and Derick obviously isn't too interested in pron <//3). Also they sometimes watch movies/videos or read Maniac Mansion together.

Tord also got to meet the other background characters because of Derick being a member of the Troublemakers (and ofc the others always ask Derick what's so special about Tord LOL)

I also like to think that Tord would be a flirty guy, but gets flustered when Derick flirts back (just like this meme)

They also don't like showing affection in public, specially on the EW Studios (they aren't too fond of PDA). But when they're together, just them and nobody else, they are very cuddly (and sometimes they like to annoy each other <3)

I also like to think they would be the best duo who fight against zombies, considering that Tord uses guns and Derick uses a crowbar :33 (but also consider the fork and spoon :stares:)

And i personally have the hc that Tord is skinny and Derick is kinda chubby, so yeah lol.

---

I could talk about 2trenchcoat for hours, but this post is too long, so I'll stop here. It's up to you whether you want to read all this drivel or just take what interests you lol

Also thank you for your ask!! ^^ :3

[miseryscrowned]

Six Song Soundtrack

Tagged by @dragonologist-phd, this is literally the perfect challenge tysm for the tag!

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:

An event that defines your character's past

How your character sees themselves

How others view them

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

A major fight scene

End credits song

I have the habit to make playlist for some of my characters, these are from my Dardanos Playlist

Dardanos Soundtrack

1. You’ll Understand - Almah

« You’ll understand all this domain is something you will never tame, through all the slow incessant pain that then made you what you became! Just face your own terror and rise up again! »

As a young Dardanos is consumed by hatred for a world where he’s shunned and alone, the demon who made a deal with his parents before he was born comes to take him to the Hells, speaking these words.

2. One Man Army - Ensiferum

« I will take the lives, lives of my enemies, yet still this battle feels like a defeat to me. Death or victory only emptiness I feel. The spring of hope runs dry, because I'm already dead inside. »

Dardanos sees himself as a killing machine, he doesn’t think he’s capable of feeling hope, happiness or love, only self preservation.

3. Herboren in Vlammen - Heidevolk

« Ziet hen rennend over de heide, vlammend in schaamte voor het ontij dat hij verspreidde. Laat hem lijden en vervloek de dag dat hij de wereld dit onheil bracht. »

« See him running over the moor, burning in shame for the bad times he brought, let him suffer and curse the day that he brought this disaster to the world. »

Dardanos is seen by most in Goudenhaven as not only a murderer but a sort cursed evil demon and even a bad omen, someone who brings disaster, misfortune and death, a lot of this is due to his brutal methods and his trademark: arson.

4. Epilogue - Fleshgod Apocalypse

« I’ll touch your heart again, waken the cold lonely dreamer, I will illuminate your soul wounded by emptiness… »

« I had to face all this scorn, staining my own land with useless tears. Look, now I am too tired to fight and run away from this filling light. »

Saskia is a Stadsridder of the city of Goudenhaven who crossed paths with Dardanos multiple times, she’s able to see through all his defense mechanisms and believes that he’s capable of good. Dardanos on the other hand hides his feelings for her believing it to be a weakness and keeps running away from her.

5. Now We Die - Machine Head

« I need your help for I have knelt, held fist at skies and cried out, “why?” Your shoulder strength, it gives me length. We lift ourselves, together meld, so take my hand, and don't look back… »

The battle of the Black Sun: the city of Goudenhaven is being taken over by vampire cultists and the Stadsridder Saskia is close to giving up as she’s trying to help her injured mentor, Dardanos shows up and convinces her to fight together to save the city.

6. My Negation - Dark Tranquillity

« How can you see my face? What’s to become of me? The art of reduction, stripped down through what seems defendable, scaled to bare revisions to stop making sense, levelling pillars of towering fear… »

As the battle of the Black Sun comes to an end Dardanos finds that his own defense mechanism of anger, violence and fear is crumbling and he’s unsure of who he is underneath and who he will become without it.

~

It seems like I make everything about Dardanos lately, I can’t help it he’s one of my favorite ocs, I def projected a lot of myself onto him (namely my taste in music and my mental health) <3

Tagging: @fantastic-mr-corvid @inquisibrenda @ravencrowley7 @alma-amentet @fllagellant

@blighted-elf @goddevouringserpent @dujour13 @izar-tarazed @wizzardyke

@my-dumb-obsessions @velnat004

Tag List

[pondslime]

Share five songs you would put in a horror movie soundtrack (any five songs except for actual horror movie soundtracks) and tag five or more people.

tagged by @stephendorff! aaaaa tysm for the tag!! this is right up my fckn alley!! <33

locust laced by sleigh bells (opening/establishing shots kinda track. THE final girl song tbh. like C'MON. it's an upbeat cheerleader bop w/a apocalyptic/four horseman twist. PLS go listen to it I luv it sm hsdfgfdsjh)

shake, rattle and roll by bill haley & his comets (a song to murder ur loser husband to)

bite me by kilo kush (HOT. great track from some pre-disaster partying)

a girl doesn't get killed by a make-believe lover (cuz it's hot) by the thrill kill kult (freakweirdo killer is chasing u around and is very weirdly into it. maybe ur also weirdly into it. u do not have time to be into it. a song to clutch ur axe to as u run thru an evil fckn maze or smthn.)

heartbreak beat by the psychedelic furs (triumphant final scene/credits song. the evil has been defeated. u and ur bestie reunite on some fuckass dirt road in the middle of nowhere. u both made it out alive. the sun is rising and ur running down the road covered in blood & deeply traumatized. but giggling. that's the vibe.)

🪓🩸 tagging five of u horror freaks (said w/so much affection): @visceravalentines, @ace-of-hearts-and-spades, @f1nalboys, @rottent33th, and @slutforstabbings! if any of u guys wanna

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 23

SECRET

Sam has a secret that she won't share... until she's forced to.

WARNING: contains teasing and vomiting (small paragraph - like 2 sentences.)

credits to @silliestgoosever for naming Gale's boyfriend (tysm! ♡)

The temperatures had peaked beyond the average for a summer in New York. It was approaching the beginning of August, and the highs were pushing 90℉ and soon to pass it. It was also close to the preparation for the college fall semester, which had Chad, Mindy, and Tara all experiencing mixed emotions about it. So, in favor of the rare, yet inescapable heat and a last hurrah for the summer, Kirby invited all survivors of the New York Ghostface terrors of 2023 over to her house. Since they had all become quote-unquote, “part of the same fucked-up family,” the FBI agent had moved up to New York to keep in close proximity to the others, in case anything happened. She had gotten a house in the suburbs that had a pool in the backyard, and during her recovery time off of work, she had spent her time fixing up the decking surrounding it to provide a nice place to entertain. 

It was perfect for today.

Under the afternoon sun, Mindy, Chad, Tara, and Gale’s recently acquired boyfriend, Joseph Zehrn, spent their time in the water. Joseph was also a journalist that was very good at his job, taking an interest in the Woodsboro murders as well as Gale’s work. He worked in Springville, Utah, working behind the scenes when the real-life Stab situations were active. He was liked by everyone, really, someone always talking of how loyal and family-oriented he was. And he surely blended himself into the survival family quickly, when he and Gale started dating. Most of the time, he acted like he was one of them, joking and interacting like he knew everything about them, and from a journalist standpoint, it was safe to say he did. However, he was heavy on teasing and didn’t know when to stop, which held him liable for crossing boundaries he shouldn’t.

One of the main things he and Gale had in common… crossing boundaries.

He was very playful with the twins and younger Carpenter, already spending hours talking and engaging in various pool activities with them. Gale was in and out of the pool as was Kirby, but Sam had been sitting on the swings off to the far left of the pool the entire time. No swimsuit, no intention of getting near the water, just in a white t-shirt and shorts, spending time by herself unless someone took a break from the water to sit out or dry off. She was waiting for Danny, who was still at work and said he would get there later. No one asked, because they figured she was waiting on him or just wasn’t interested in swimming because of other reasons. At least that’s what the females of the pack insinuated. All except Tara. Tara knew why her sister refused to swim. 

But where there was someone who knew the exact reason, there was always someone who didn’t and would push to find it out. And that was Joseph.

“You doing alright, Sam?” Kirby’s voice made Sam open her eyes from the relentless heat. She sat down next to her on the swing. “The heat getting to you?” she asked, on account of the younger’s face flushing red.

But Sam just shook her head. “I’m fine.” She let the other resituate her towel around her shoulders before continuing the gentle rock of the swing.

“Have you heard from Danny yet?”

Once again, she shook her head, then pulled out the water bottle that she kept beside her. “No, not yet,” she replied, before taking a sip. “He said he’d get off around 2 though.”

Kirby overlooked the 3 youngest attendees still swimming and diving beneath the pool’s surface, “Ah, so he should be on his way any minute now.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Before another conversation could start, Joseph’s dripping figure approached them. “What’s going on, Sam? You’re the only one that hasn’t been in the pool yet.” He gave her a friendly smile that didn’t coordinate very well with the notoriously gleam of mischief in his eye as he looked her up and down. “Don’t tell me you’re insecure. I don’t know how you could be with the kind of toned body I know you’ve got,” he teased.

Sam blinked at him, only able to give a subtle shake of her head, before Kirby jumped in.

“She’s waiting for her boyfriend.”

“Oh, is that it?” He was still looking at the younger one.

But this just made her grow hotter than she already was. It’s a good thing her face was already flushed, because if it wasn’t, it would’ve gotten that way no matter how much she wouldn’t want it to. And then that would just become another thing he could point out.

“Why not go swim with your sister?” Joseph pointed out Tara, who was sliding a pair of goggles over her eyes then disappeared beneath the water. “I thought she was the one you were glued to 24/7.”

“No, it’s not that,” she tried to defend herself.

“Is it that time of the month?”

Kirby could see how she grew flustered at that invasive question and stepped in again. “Okay, asshole, that’s a little too personal.” She said this in a lighthearted way though, so it wasn’t very insulting.

However, the man couldn’t take it any other way but playfully as he shrugged. “What? I’m just asking,” he chuckled.

Sam cut back in, fully capable of fighting her own fights, if that was what this was… “No, I’m not,” she nearly snapped. Then, she let her hackles fall, merely shifting with a small shrug as she went on, “I just… don’t want to.” And that was the truth.

The short one, at least…

Luckily, he nodded, seeming to finally take that as an answer. “Okay, okay…”

As he turned around to make his way inside, Sam looked over at Kirby. “Is he always like that?”

She nodded, “Pretty much.” She had been around Gale a lot more recently than the rest had been, so she had a good idea on who Joseph was by now. “I told Gale not to bring him, because he’ll likely just start trouble, but clearly…” she gestured her hand out to where the man disappeared, “she brought him anyway.”

A buzzing and vibration from her phone had the younger female glancing over to retrieve it. She observed the message lighting up her screen that made her divert the topic with: 

“Danny’s on his way.”

“Good,” Reed nodded, observing the 3 in the pool again, before she invited her own dismissal. “I’m gonna go grab a bite. Do you want anything or wanna come with?”

Sam shook her head, “No, I’m good.” And she was left alone again as the other walked away. 

However, 20 minutes later, she was called from her place on the shaded swing, when annoyed shouts from Mindy and Tara snapped her attention away from her phone.

“Way to go, dingus!”

“Come on, Chad, keep it in the pool! Go get it!”

Then Chad argued back, “No, that’s your ball, babe! It touched your fingertips. Remember the rule?”

Tara groaned and turned around to see the foam football sitting across the travertine. She judged retrieving it for a moment, before glancing over towards the swing. “Hey, Sam! Can you get the ball for me?” She pointed to it.

“Yeah,” her sister answered and set her phone down to carry out the task. The water swished, telling her that Tara swam away from the side and towards the waterfall coming over the backing rock wall on the other side. She circled the pillar to the covered decking and found the neon orange ball sitting next to a stack of towels. But the water must’ve outdone the sound of the back door opening and closing, because she didn’t know Joseph had come back out, until his voice was loud in her ears.

“Well, look who finally got off the swing!”

“I’m not chained to it,” she casually retorted as she leaned down to pick the football up. Then, she turned around to toss it back to Tara, who had to jump for it.

Joseph chuckled, “You sure act like it.” Now that he was right next to her, he could really see just how heat-stricken she was, especially with the white shirt she had on that complemented her red face. “Well, since you’re up, why not jump in real quick?” he further suggested with a nod towards the pool.

“I said I didn’t want to,” she answered, immediately getting defensive with him prying again.

He shrugged, “You look really hot—”

“Why are you so insistent on me going in the pool?” She finally challenged him. He wasn’t around any of them enough to act like he was, especially with how invasive he had been and was continuing to be. And if he pushed his luck anymore, she would make sure he didn’t get to be around them at all. “If I’m that hot, I’ll go inside. I don’t need to be in the water.”

At this sudden tension, the journalist pulled off a sarcastically offended look, “Alright, alright, take it easy, Sam. No need to get all worked-up, I just think it wouldn’t hurt for you to have some fun.” He gazed at her as if he knew her inside and out. He had studied all of them, after all, just like Gale had.

She just sighed and looked away, crossing her arms like she was biting her tongue from saying anything more. Damn, did she have a temper. Just like her father. But she didn’t bite as much as Billy did, especially when she was caught off guard. She needed to lighten up and cool off, so what was the harm in messing with her a little bit? Plus, if she wouldn’t say why she was being so resistant, the description of his job told him to find out. So, he went for it. He moved forward swiftly to pick her up bridal-style, which worked well for him.

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat as it jumped into her throat, her instinct having her arms come uncrossed to hold onto him. “What are you doing?” was the first thing her mind made her spit out.

Zehrn just seemed to take delight in his teasing antics as he started carrying her towards the pool’s edge. “Just gonna cool you and that temper off a bit,” he answered.

She didn’t know how she could become hotter than she already was, but somehow, she did. Her fight-or-flight cut deep, but the awkward position he had her in kept her from moving around too much. So, all that was left was to try and talk him out of it. “No, Joseph, put me down,” her growing fear kept her voice from projecting. She wanted to sound more assertive, like she had only seconds ago, but that was gone.

“I will! Right in the water.” If he were honest, he expected her to be heavier, considering her muscle, but he was able to carry her easily.

Sam whimpered, her dark eyes churning color with the blue liquid promising her demise. And as he took her closer to it, she found her voice. “No! Joseph, please! Let me go!” As much as she hated it, her chest started to burn, and it spread into her eyes, threatening to blind her with tears of fear.

Her raised and pitched vocals were enough to draw the attention of the trio in the pool, all not used to hearing her that way but immediately knowing it was the member that completed the Core Four.

“Dude, she doesn’t want to! Put her down,” Mindy called out, while Chad added on.

“Yeah, just leave her alone, man!”

Both of them were aware that Sam appeared to be scared, but it didn’t click that it was due to something other than being caught off guard or embarrassed. But Tara knew. And that’s why her voice came off the strongest and harshest as she barked.

“She told you no! Put her down!” It was like she spat fire, and both twins looked at her because of it.

However, Joseph still didn’t get it, not taking any of them seriously as he just laughed it off. “Oh, come on, Billy Loomis’ daughter isn’t scared of a little water, is she?” And then he let her go, her last attempt at objection completely void as she was released.

“No—!”

“Fuck you!” Tara hollered simultaneously with the joke he’d made, making Mindy finally speak up.

“Easy, T, it’s not that—” 

But the sound of her older sister’s body hitting the water and the sight of it disappearing had the youngest there completely deaf to all else, though she knew where those words were headed, and it was up to her to explain her quick judgment. “Sam can’t swim.” She lunged forward to dive beneath the surface.

“Shit!” Was the last thing she heard from Chad as the rushing of water flooded her hearing. She blinked through the chlorine, finding her sibling’s figure stirring up bubbles in her struggle to find air. Above, she could hear Mindy’s muffled shouts, probably directed at Joseph now that she knew what the real problem was. 

Tara grabbed hold of Sam and pulled her up, wrapping her arm around her waist to push her to the surface first. 

And when her head broke into fresh air, the older Carpenter gasped, immediately thrown into a coughing fit. 

“I got you, I got you. It’s okay.” The owner of the arms that held her spoke firmly but softly at the same time.

She didn’t even know who was helping her at the moment—out of the three that had witnessed it all—but whoever they were, she was grateful for them. She could feel the chlorine water she’d gulped down slosh like angry waves inside her. Her eyes, lungs, and muscles burned with the fight to survive. She could hear many people raising their voices, like they were fighting, but it was indistinct amongst the water clogging her ears. 

“Joseph!”

That one was clear as day. It was Gale’s voice. Served him right, she hoped Gale tore into him. She wanted to, herself, but she was completely overwhelmed, exposed, and she was sure if she didn’t stop coughing, she was going to throw up.

“Sam, are you okay?” Tara’s worried voice called out to her, but she couldn’t respond. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, get out of sight, to protect herself. So, that’s what she did.

Around her choking, the drowned victim clawed at the travertine and pushed herself up out of the water. By now, she was not only fighting for breath but was fighting back sobs. A thousand thoughts and no time to process or recall any of them had corrupted her into tears all at once, and with the amount of noise around her, she couldn’t seem to control anything. 

A secret had just been exposed, but it was never meant to be revealed like that.

“I was only messing with her!” Joseph objected to whatever Gale was saying to him. But then Tara answered.

“She can’t swim, you fucking asshole!”

“Tara! That’s enough, I’ve got it!” Gale warned.

“Calm down, babe,” Chad then tried to soothe.

But Sam didn’t spare anything or anyone a passing glance as she hurried to get to her feet and bolted inside. No towel, no caution, nothing. She ran past Gale and past Kirby as the FBI agent made her way outside to see what was going on, ducking into the now-ice-cold air conditioning and rushing into the bathroom in the hall to lock herself inside.

It was about 10 minutes of her sitting by herself on the rug on the bathroom floor, before she heard a knock at the door.

“Sam?”

Tara.

“Are you okay?”

Sam sniffled, swallowing back the drainage that remained in her throat. “I’m fine,” she croaked, still a little hoarse from her choking that eventually turned into a small vomiting episode. All the water she accidentally took in came back up, and she was still thanking her lucky stars that she made it to the toilet just in time to let it go.

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see anyone right now. Even Tara… Tara was the only one who knew about her not being able to swim. Neither of them had learned as kids, because they didn’t have a pool, nor did they ever go anywhere that required swimming. The younger of the two had been taught by Judy, Wes, and Amber—sometime after Sam had already left for good—when she had been invited to their house during the summer. Lack of that skill led Sam to be deathly afraid of drowning, which was why she never let herself be taught, even after all this time. “I…” She tugged the towel she had gotten for herself tighter around her shoulders and pulled her knees up closer to her chest, having removed her soaking shirt, shorts, shoes, and socks to leave her in nothing but her bra and underwear. “I’m sorry, Tara… I’d just rather be alone right now…” She wasn’t shivering anymore, but she was still cold, nonetheless.

“Danny’s here…”

Sam then bit her lip. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone after all…

She got up from the floor and unlocked the door, opening it to find Tara raising her eyes to meet her own. Then, she glanced to her left, where she found Danny’s gaze.

“Gale laid heavy into Joseph, so you don’t have to worry about him,” Tara informed. “He didn’t know you didn’t know how to swim.”

Of course, he didn’t. Nobody but Tara knew. However, the older Carpenter couldn’t take her eyes off of her boyfriend. Had he been there, none of that would’ve happened.

But she could tell that he wanted to have strong words with Joseph himself.

She must have been making a face that told him something, because he stepped forward as she did and met her with one arm around her back and the other guarding her head to hug her. It was only one-sided, for she was still holding the towel around her, but he knew she just needed that security from him right now.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he spoke softly, while his hand caressed her wet hair. “Are you okay?”

Sam nodded without lifting her head from leaning against his shoulder. “Yeah…” Again, she started to fight back tears, the fear and humiliation still prominent in her emotions. “It was just a lot…” She felt him nod. 

“I know.”

After another moment, she pulled away and glanced over to Tara, who held her phone out. 

“I got your phone off the swing. I don’t know if you wanna go back out or…” She lowered her hand, when it was taken, then stood quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t do more to stop him…”

Her big sister shook her head, “You did fine. It’s not your fault. Thank you for helping me.”

She nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. “He’s waiting to apologize to you,” she moved on, knowing that dwelling on what she could’ve done wouldn’t fix anything. “So, whenever you’re ready, he’s outside.”

Sam sighed. She didn’t care about getting an apology. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to talk to him for the rest of the day, but she guessed that would be rather immature and petty of her. It just wasn’t her style to show weakness like she had. It felt out-of-character, even though there weren't any guidelines when it came to being human. “Okay…” she eventually nodded.

Danny brushed a thick strand of hair over her shoulder and tugged the hem of the towel a little farther over her chest. “I think we should get you in some dry clothes first,” he suggested.

“Kirby probably has some that you can borrow,” Tara then mentioned. She didn’t wait for a response before she already started to leave. “I’ll go ask.”

Once she disappeared out of the shadowed hallway, Danny pulled Samantha in to place a kiss on her forehead, which was still cool from the water. “Why didn’t you tell him you couldn’t swim?” he whispered.

“Because… it wasn’t his business,” she replied.

“He might’ve not done it, if you told him.”

“It’s not easy for me to let go of a secret.”

Sam seemed to be the queen of secrets. Hell, she even kept their relationship a secret for months. And that made him pull a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s not a secret.”

i'm not really happy with this one tbh. it would've been better to have this for a personal story i think. I had a different way of this scenario being handled that i could've done but oh well… i hope y'all still like it and if not then i know what NOT to do next time lolol

p.s if you're reading my story "The Wolves of Woodsboro", there will be a part in an upcoming chapter about how Sam overcomes not being able to swim. it's a little similar but not in the same way it's done and how it ends. idk how to say it but the point is that if u read that chapter when i post it and u think "uhh wtf why are u writing something like this again", i speak my peace here ;)

All my best! ♡ - parker

[eelness]

Hellooo

Are you by any chance open to spilling the beans as to how you did that coolass tattoo?

As in, what program? What tools? What buttons did you press? What did you have for breakfast that day? What do the numbers on the back of your credit card say?

Or like just something you are willing to share about it?

Thanks 🖤

hii!! i used procreate’s 3d model software, and downloaded the male model somewhere off the internet. it’s actually what a lot of real tattoo artists use! as for HOW i did it, amphetamines ❤️

i used a LOT of references and i went in with the idea that his half sleeve is like, his love language to his culture- i have the sun seen on the flag, and the national plant and flower!! i based it mostly around tribal tattoos too bc while they’re not my thing he seems like the type

tysm for the ask!

[ayeitzagusty]

HAI! i was just wondering if you had / could make any hail the sun stamps? (if your requests r open ofc ^_^ if they are can you make stamps of the albums.. / of the band itself? tysm!

just made em, yw!

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

REQUESTED BY: anon

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

PROGRAM / PLATFORM:

photopea

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

BAND: Hail the sun

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egg emoji

i dont listen to em but i enjoy doing requests from yall

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

FREE TO USE!

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

STAMP TEMPLATE CREDITS TO:

changeling007 on deviantart !!

[livums]

Hey there, Liv! Gallimimus and Carnotaurus - from the dino ask game, pls? Sending all the good ☆☆ vibes ☆☆ and good luck to ya! - 💫 (@enchanted-lightning-aes)

Hi enchant!! tysm for the ask 💜💜💜

(Ask game here!)

Gallimimus - share a happy or lighthearted scene

this one also sent me into a crisis because i was like ... have i really not written one lighthearted scene....... by god..... this was the closest I could come up with and even that is like. tinged with some amount of edgy thrill. LOL. anyhow, it's short but the next one is so long that it evens out i think

Kesh was still growing accustomed to walking around as herself. Her grin was as wide as her stomach was twisted. The dazed wind of late summer that ambled through the market alley did tug through her rusty curls, and at points blew them right into her dark eyes, as if to remind her that she was really doing this. That when she sauntered past the stalls and the wares therein, what the merchants and townsfolk would see when their eyes drifted over her (for truly she looked nothing special) was not the skin of one invented or imitated, but the light brown into which she had been born. And the freckles that stippled her arms, her neck, and her cheeks, blushing from the glee, had been splashed there by no intention save the Sun’s itself (or Himself, for they were in Host country).

Carnotaurus - share a scene that contains some cool worldbuilding

Sylah spoke first. “Hunter Vordenburg,” she called. “I see you have managed to track down our lorekeeper.” Without hesitating, Dove pivoted on her heel and dipped her head for a moment in deference. “Good evening, Hunter Renora,” she replied. “Your eulogy this afternoon was striking. Powerful.” From any other hunter, Sylah might have rolled her eyes at the compliment. But from Dove, every word was said in earnest. “As I mentioned, I have business with Sister Genevieve. I had not been successful in locating her until this very moment.” Dove paused, thoughtful. “I must have only just missed her all day.” Over Dove’s shoulder, Sylah locked eyes with Nieve, who quickly looked away. So her nun had been alerted to the hunter’s arrival, likely by Father Asa, if Sylah’s guess was correct. Dove turned away from Sylah to face Nieve once again. “Sister,” she said. “I meant to confer with you regarding the presence of vampire-marked individuals in the town and surrounding area…” As Dove spoke, Sylah watched closely the way Nieve’s eyes remained glued to a point on the wall, the way her face had gone a tinge paler, the way she reached up to adjust her hair—finding that it was tucked away beneath her veil and coif, she instead laid her hands on the table, one atop the other. With every word from the hunter, Nieve looked like she would more and more like to climb up the wall to escape. Sylah’s instinct was to intervene, but she found herself refraining. Her eyes did not stray from the nun and her fretting. Sylah crossed her arms over her chest, adopting a more relaxed stance and continuing to observe the exchange in silence. Even as Nieve looked more and more like she was liable to explode. She wanted Nieve to ask for her help.

“…and if you might be so kind as to grant me access to your records. Any censuses taken from the last three decades would suffice,” Dove finished. A formality—under the Guild’s authority, Dove could kick open the door of the Abbey archives if she so chose and access anything she wished, and no one could stop her. Nieve knew this as well as anyone. The nun picked at a stray fiber on one of her wide cuffs. “Certainly.” To her credit, Nieve’s voice remained far more composed than she herself seemed. “The Guild is within its rights to audit our records.” Sylah could not see Dove’s face, but she could hear the sincerity and the smile in her voice. “You have my gratitude,” she said. Sylah sensed hesitation before Dove went on: “There is another matter of some importance which I should like to discuss with you directly. May I share your table?” She gestured with one hand to the empty chair across from Nieve. Despite Dove’s courtesy, Nieve refused to meet the hunter’s eyes. Sylah watched intently. If Nieve permitted Dove to join her, she would be well and truly trapped in conversation. But refusal was suspicious. Nieve finally raised her face. She smiled a feeble smile at Dove. “Please do,” she said. When she did not so much as glance in her direction, Sylah frowned. “Thank you.” As with all of her motion, Dove took her seat with what Sylah could only have described as mechanical perfection. From sliding the chair out from under the table, to straightening it out, to tucking the length of her cloak tidily beneath her as she sat. She then reached within her cloak to produce a small book. A short pencil was attached and dangling from a length of string. Sylah was surprised to find that she remembered the thing—Dove had used it to study the Hecatologue when they were apprentices. Sure enough, as she flipped cleanly through the pages with her thumb, Sylah spied the neat and precise repetition of the commandments, one after the other, in perhaps the tiniest penmanship known to mankind. As Dove readied herself for whatever inquiry she had planned, Sylah found her ears homing in on the absence of the telltale squeaking of the tavern door swinging open and shut. The tide of incomers had stemmed in the time since her and Zova’s arrival. The buzz of conversation remained lively, if uneasy. “Now,” Dove said, laying the book flat on the table, open to a fresh page. “You are indeed Sister Genevieve Ostra, of the Abbey of Mont Estival. This is correct?” Nieve’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Aye.” “Thank you,” Dove continued, as if they were alone in a study as opposed to huddled in the corner of a busy tavern. She made small and quick marks on the page. “And you are not a native to this place.” Nieve’s hands shifted slightly to rest on her forearms, as if holding herself. “I am not.” “Where is your place of origin?” “…Issile.”

Dove looked up from her writing. “And what was the reason for your relocation?” Sylah stopped herself from clicking her tongue in disapproval. It was not a question she would have felt necessary to ask—everyone knew the woeful state that had plagued Issile for as long as anyone alive could remember. But Dove was nothing if not thorough. Behind Sylah, the door creaked. Open, and shut again. Nieve’s gaze was momentarily unfocused, blank. “It was dangerous. The evils, you know. My family sent me away to live with my cousin, here.” “Yes, the abbot.” Dove nodded. “But none of your immediate family joined you. Why is that?” Sylah tensed. Dove was circling the heart of the matter, and she would stalk the truth until she was convinced that she had found it. And Nieve was not a good liar. The nun replied, albeit with hesitation. She could not be far from yielding. “My family—“ She stopped herself sharply. Sylah could almost hear the calculations that Nieve had made, in real time: her knowledge that the truth condemned her as vampire-marked, her instinct to lie that her family had perished or otherwise succumbed to the stalking horrors, her realization that Dove (or any Guildsman) would not have posed the question without already knowing the answer, in all or in part. Her understanding that she was cornered. Nieve’s mouth remained open while she considered her situation. The moment dragged on. Finally, finally, her dark eyes met Sylah’s, and Sylah felt as if she had been struck by lightning. She let herself take in that face, that face that silently pleaded, Help me. At last, Nieve had acquiesced. Sylah allowed herself the barest of moments to savor it. She tried to keep a smile off of her face. Then, she nodded minutely, and sprang into action. “Sister,” she cut in, her tone firm. “You look unwell.” It was not a lie—Nieve looked one rough shake away from being ill or falling onto her face. Dove turned in her seat. She looked at Sylah as if she had forgotten that she had been standing there. Maybe she had—Dove was always the focused sort. When Sylah met the hunter’s eyes, she could not help but think of Father’s journal. What had been taken from it. What the Guild had decided was worthy of redaction. What they had decided she should not be permitted to read. She found herself wondering just how much Dove knew. Rationally, she understood that a novice like Dove would not be privy to the higher-level machinations of the Guild authorities. Yet the question prodded at her. She thought again of Zova’s misgivings. She thought of the voice: Beware.

“Aye…” Nieve cleared her throat. “Forgive me, good Hunter, I have been out of sorts since yesterday…” she said to Dove, weakly. Sylah bolstered the nun’s timid assertion. “Hunter Vordenburg, our lorekeeper seems unfit to continue this conversation. I will escort her back to the abbey now.” She leaned on her seniority, and hoped that Dove registered how non-negotiable this was. One way or another, she was taking Nieve home. “I see.” Dove’s expression was unreadable. As subtly as she could, Sylah scanned her colleague’s face for any sign of displeasure. Seniority could only rescue them from the immediate line of fire. If Dove had an inkling that Nieve was dodging interrogation, or that Sylah was purposefully obstructing the inquest, they would invite more danger than they sought to avoid. “We’ll be off, then. Excuse us,” she said, indicating for Nieve to rise. The nun stood at the prompting, but her eyes never left Dove, whose eyes never left Sylah. Before she realized it, Sylah was holding out a gloved and lightly-curled fist. The back of her hand facing Dove, she offered the young woman her knuckles. Relief cascaded through her when she saw that the gesture had the intended impact. Dove’s brown eyes widened, almost imperceptibly. The closest she would come to showing her surprise. After a second’s hesitation, she reached up with the back of her own fist, lightly tapping her knuckles against Sylah’s. Far from the usual precision of her movements, Dove approached the motion like some sort of baby animal, with a big and wide uncertainty about everything. Sylah found that a cordial smile had worked its way across her face. “As brothers,” she said. “Blood and ally,” Dove responded. She did not mirror Sylah’s smile, but her delight was obvious in the way she nodded, short yet ardent. It was clear to Sylah that she had truly caught Dove unawares with her small salute, for even as she made her way with Nieve to the door, she could still cast a look behind her and see that her colleague remained in her seat. Dove looked down at her hands and thumbed idly through her little notebook.

[diorgirl444]

that darn cat 🐈 ༊*·˚ - send me in a character + a brief description of your appearance (including clothing style) and i’ll make a fake instagram post of what you’d post of each other

Pretty cute imo, congrats flo 👏

I'm 5'1.5", Southeast Asian, chubby, really short bob cut brunette (that looks like black) hair, rounded heart shaped face, and several people told me I kinda look like Lucy Pevensie but I have a cute mole near my forehead. I love to wear makeup in Korean glam leaning on brownish color and red gradient lipstick and my sense of fashion is more into soft punk, soft grunge, rock chic, casual chic, and rustic, but sometimes elegant. Also my character choice is Edmund Pevensie, thank you so much 💗

liked by pe.pe and 102 others

pretty.aerith cutest side profile ever!!!

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justedmund not as cute as yours ml <3

↳ pretty.aerith i beg to differ!!!

pe.pe did he know this photo was being taken??? 👀

↳ pretty.aerith yes…… (no he did not)

lucylou cutest couple ever oml!!!

liked by susiesou and 140 others

pretty.aerith hey lover boy <3

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justedmund hey lover <3

s.pevensie take notices cas!!!

↳ caspian.x dually noted my lady

lucylou excuse me photo creds!!! 😡

pretty.aerith photo credits to lucy

↳ lucylou tysm 🫶

liked by caspian.x and 165 others

justedmund you are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars <3

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pretty.aerith in that case you my ocean, my land and my wind <3

pe.pe ed you are royally smitten

↳ justedmund jealousy does not look good on you peter

lucylou you look so nice in that photo aerith!!!

↳ pretty.aerith tysm lou, your such a sweetie 🥹

s.pevensie i’m so glad my matchmaking worked

↳ justedmund i am forever thankful susan

[stillcannotfixthisbrokenmachine]

the great @arthousebrat has created a lovely horror-themed music game and then tagged me in it! this was quite a tough one! still, to make things more difficult i decided to try and keep some semblance of genre coherence... i don't know if i succeeded though ahahah. anyway, tysm for the tag <3

RULES: pick five or more songs that would be in your ideal horror movie soundtrack. any songs except actual horror movie soundtracks. you don’t have to explain your choices but I’d love to hear it!

Skinny Puppy - Killing Game i really wanted to have one outlier - a song that doesn't really match the rest of the score. there were SO many possible picks for this spot, honestly... but i knew i needed something industrial/metal & this specific skuppy has the perfect song structure to make a dope opening track!

Colin Stetson and Sarah Neufeld - The Sun Roars into View TSRiV is definitely the spotlight of my score, serving as a background to the most important yet cryptic scene! it's akin to Stetson's Among the Sef, one of the first songs that came to mind (but couldn't choose since it's already part of a horror soundtrack). also... MORE! BRASS! IN! HORROR!

Nurse with Wound - Darkness Fish i'd use this song to set the mood for one of the many body horror/gore moments in the film. Easy Snapping and Livin' Fear of James Last from the same album could also work... i guess we would have to remove/rework the spoken parts to stay in line with the plot of the film, though

Uboa - The Sky May Be (Enthropy) THE perfect choice for a chasing/escape scene! while TSMB (Extus) and Thigh High Cat Tights are the scarier and bleaker tracks out of the whole TSMB project, TSMB (Entropy) would make a better soundtrack entry imo

Puce Mary - The Spiral you just watched the most fucked up horror film of your life, the credits roll and you are left staring at the screen wondering what just happened... all while this is playing <3

and i guess that's it !! i always get so scared of tagging people ahahah so please, feel free to tag yourself if you're a mutual and you want to do this!