#Darkened Underarms

[liviawildrose]

Hey I'm new on your vlog... it's so satisfying inspiring and definitely useful!!

I have a recommendation, if you can make a post about getting rid of natural dark spots or deep hyperpigmentation from knee , inner thighs, underarms, elbow etc places.. like how can I lighten them..any tips or tricks...

Thank you bestie 🩷

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐬 & 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

(knees, inner thighs, underarms, elbows, etc.)

alright, let’s have a real talk. hyperpigmentation in places like the knees, elbows, inner thighs, and underarms? it sucks. it’s annoying, it makes you self-conscious, and it can straight-up mess with your confidence. i know this because i have it too.

i won’t lie i avoid wearing shorts sometimes because of my dark knees. i used to feel weird about wearing sleeveless tops because of my underarms. it’s one of those things that makes you hyper-aware of your body in a way that’s exhausting. and what makes it even worse? nobody really talks about it.

so i get it. i see you. and i took my time answering this because i wanted to make sure you have everything you need to know to actually fix this problem. because i don’t want you to waste time on things that don’t work or damage your skin further.

this is gonna be long, but if you want to finally get rid of dark spots, keep reading.

why does hyperpigmentation happen in these areas?

before we get into the fix, let’s talk about why it happens in the first place.

1. friction & irritation → tight clothes, constant rubbing, and even things like sitting on your knees or crossing your legs can cause darkness.

2. dead skin buildup → these areas don’t shed dead skin as easily, making them look darker over time.

3. hormonal changes → pregnancy, pcos, and other hormonal issues can lead to increased pigmentation.

4. shaving & ingrown hairs → shaving causes micro-cuts and irritation, making the skin react by darkening.

5. lack of moisture → dry skin doesn’t renew itself well, so old, pigmented skin sticks around.

6. not using sunscreen → uv rays darken existing pigmentation.

7. genetics & melanin production → some of us are just more prone to it.

(first things first i want to stress on the fact that you need to visit a dermatologist too for this concern they will be able to guide you through it more efficiently, even i am consulting a dermatologist for my skin problems)

these are some products i use to get rid my my hyperpigmentation (the last two are prescribed products by my dermatologist) so do consult a dermatologist too pookie

so if you have dark knees, elbows, underarms, or inner thighs, it’s not because you’re dirty. it’s just how skin works. and now, let’s talk about how to fix it.

step 1: exfoliate to remove dead skin (but gently)

dark skin is often just dead skin buildup, so exfoliation is step one. but don’t go crazy scrubbing—that can actually make it worse.

physical exfoliation (1-2x a week)

this helps buff away dead skin, but it needs to be gentle:

• dry brushing before showering (use a soft brush, nothing too rough).

• sugar + honey scrub, coffee scrub (any kind of scrub is alright. salt, sugar whatever)

• soft loofah or african net

chemical exfoliation (2-3x a week, nighttime only)

chemical exfoliants dissolve dead skin without harsh scrubbing, which is way better:

• glycolic acid (aha) → removes dead skin & boosts cell turnover. (i use this)

• lactic acid (aha) → more hydrating, great for sensitive skin.

• salicylic acid (bha) → unclogs pores & helps with ingrown hairs.

do this consistently, and you’ll start seeing your skin tone even out.

step 2: use brightening ingredients that actually work

exfoliating preps the skin, but you need active ingredients to fade dark spots. these work over time, not overnight, so patience is key.

• vitamin c → brightens & evens skin tone.

• kojic acid → one of the most powerful skin-lightening ingredients. (i use this)

• niacinamide → reduces dark spots & strengthens the skin barrier. (i use this)

• alpha arbutin → gently lightens pigmentation without irritation.

• licorice root extract → naturally fades hyperpigmentation.

obviously i don’t use all of these on daily basis and i won’t recommend you guys to use all of em either im just giving yall options

step 3: deep hydration & moisture = less hyperpigmentation

moisturizing is not optional. dry skin holds onto dark spots longer.

you can use any literally any sort of lotions and oils

step 4: stop shaving (or at least do it right)

shaving causes micro-tears in the skin, leading to more darkness. if possible, switch to:

• waxing → removes hair from the root, causing less irritation.

• laser hair removal → a permanent fix for darkened underarms & bikini lines.

if you must shave:

• use a sharp razor.

• shave with the direction of hair growth.

• apply aloe vera after shaving to prevent irritation.

step 5: sunscreen. every. single. day.

most people don’t realize that uv exposure makes dark spots worse. even if the area isn’t exposed to direct sunlight, uv rays still reach it.

• use spf 30+ daily on your knees, elbows, and other prone areas.

(yall there’s this brand in india m caffeine and they launched a 50+ spf omg imma buy and let yall know)

when i buy these products i’ll let you guys know how good or bad it was.

how long does it take to see results?

• 4-8 weeks for mild hyperpigmentation.

• 3-6 months for deeper pigmentation.

• consistency is everything—this is a marathon, not a sprint.

things to avoid (they make it worse!):

lemon juice or baking soda → too harsh, can burn your skin.

scrubbing aggressively → irritation = more pigmentation.

skipping moisturizer → dry skin clings to dark spots.

tight clothing → friction makes hyperpigmentation worse.

(so exfoliating -> hydrating -> protecting)

listen, i know how annoying this is. i’m literally dealing with it too. but what i’ve learned is that it’s not just about getting rid of dark spots—it’s about being kind to your skin while working to improve it.

you are not dirty, not unworthy, not less beautiful because of this. but if you want to fix it, you can. and you will. just stay consistent, be patient, and take care of your skin with love.

we’re in this together, okay? if you have any questions, drop them below. sending you love & clear skin vibes. 💕🍀

[drylite]

last lines

thank you @middlingmay for the tag :’) i’ve put everything else aside in the name of self indulgence and am finally writing Thick Bucky

He redoubles his focus through the final innings. Stands when the game’s called, after they play out those sad last at-bats even though the outcome’s clear. For a second it looks like a fight’s gonna break out, before Curt weaves around and through it diffusing tensions. Bucky meanders over, tall and flushed with victory, running his hand over the back of his head. The thatch of his underarm hair is darkened with perspiration. Gale blinks one solid, deliberate blink before looking Bucky in the face.

“You see that out there?” Bucky asks, grin slapped on crooked and boyish. Gale knows he means something like that there was the beautiful sport we call American baseball. But what Gale saw out there has approached him now on two legs, reinforcing its own vitality, broad and sweating and too much itself for Gale to rationalize it down into anything smaller.

Bucky slips back into his overshirt for lunch but he rolls the sleeves up his forearms and leaves the buttons undone. His stomach has a more pronounced curve to it when he sits; Gale wishes he didn’t notice this, but all he does is notice, like someone stirred a screwdriver around in his brain and now the wires are loose, lashing bright and hot.

—

tagging @constanthaunt @galetops and @stereobone no pressure!!

[fourthavecafe]

hi! I love your blog would you ok with writing a fic with Yuji and Sukuna? :D

i've loved your writings for jjk but I feel like this classic duo would be the best espionage the way you write being an evil ler Sukuna thanks :3

pairing- sukuna x yuji

word count-645

────୨ৎ────

Yuji found himself in Sukuna’s domain, the oppressive atmosphere wrapping around him like a heavy blanket.

The vast expanse of darkened space felt both familiar and terrifying. Sukuna’s presence loomed, a constant reminder of the curse’s power. Today, however, there was something off—Sukuna was angry, boredom radiating from him in waves.

In an instant, with a flick of his wrist, Sukuna had Yuji pinned to the floor, one arm holding Yuji’s wrist securely above his head. The weight of Sukuna’s body pressed down on him, and Yuji squirmed, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?!” Yuji shouted, his usual loud self refusing to back down despite the position he was in.

Sukuna leaned in closer, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. “i need entertainment” he said, his voice low and teasing. “and you brat are going to provide it.”

Yuji rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. “if you didn’t try killing people the second I gave you control of my body maybe I’d let you out more!”

Sukuna chuckled darkly, a sound that sent shivers down Yuji’s spine. “I went through your memories and I learned something interesting…” He glanced down at Yuji’s ribs, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

Yuji’s heart raced as he realized what Sukuna was about to do. “Wait, what are you—”

Before he could finish, Sukuna’s fingers dug into Yuji’s ribs, eliciting a surprised squeal from him. “Too easy,weak humans” Sukuna teased, squeezing mercilessly.

Yuji burst into laughter, twisting and squirming beneath Sukuna’s hold. “Sukuna! Stop! That tickles!” He gasped, trying to pull away, but it was no use.

“Stop? oh please brat I’m only getting started” Sukuna said with a wicked grin, moving his hands to Yuji’s underarms, tickling him relentlessly. Yuji’s laughter filled the air, a mix of surprise and genuine joy, even as he squirmed in discomfort.

“Okay, okay! You win! I can’t take it!” Yuji pleaded between fits of laughter, breathless and desperate for Sukuna to ease up.

But Sukuna only leaned closer, enjoying the moment far too much. “You know,I could this forever,keep you hostage here.” His fingers slid down to Yuji’s thighs, squeezing and tickling him there as well, pushing Yuji further into helpless laughter.

“Please! No more! I’ll do anything!” Yuji managed to choke out, his face flushed from the playful torture.

“Anything, huh?” Sukuna paused, a contemplative look crossing his features. “I like the sound of that.”

With a swift motion, Sukuna lifted Yuji’s shirt halfway, exposing his stomach. Yuji’s eyes widened in panic as Sukuna’s gaze zeroed in on his bellybutton. “I know you have a particularly sensitive spot here” Sukuna said, his tone dripping with mischief.

“Wait, don’t!” Yuji exclaimed but it was too late. Sukuna’s fingers teasingly dipped into yuji’s bellybutton.

Yuji gasped, laughter erupting once more as he squirmed and thrashed against the floor. “Sukuna! Stop! I can’t take it!” His laughter echoed in the domain, a testament to the twisted fun Sukuna was having at his expense.

Sukuna’s eyes glinted with wicked delight. “Make me” he taunted, intensifying his assault, fingers digging mercilessly into Yuji’s sensitive little bellybutton, his laughter and protests only fueling Sukuna’s amusement.

In this moment of vulnerability, Yuji realized that despite the chaotic nature of their relationship, there was an undeniable thrill in being at the mercy of the curse, even if just for a little while.

and as Sukuna continued to tickle him, the boundary between pain and pleasure blurred, leaving Yuji breathless and begging for mercy, wondering how this terrifyingly entertaining moment would end.

[ticklygiggles]

Lovelynim's tickletober Day 20: Posing [n$fw]

Neuvillette x Wriothesley

A/N: *maniac laughter in the back*

"Wow, you truly look beautiful like this, monsieur."

Snap!

Neuvillette felt his cheeks getting warmer and warmer every time he heard the kamera emitting a soft click. He shifted slightly, his torso was wrapped in red ropes that intertwined precisely, forming tiny knots that looked like jewels against his precious ivory skin, the gap between each knot drawing a diamond pattern.

His arms were raised above his head, leaving him in an elegant and vulnerable pose, with his body completely exposed to that inexperienced photographer.

Neuvillette thought he wasn't even paying attention to what he was capturing with that stupid kamera, Wriothesley was just looking at Neuvillette with hunger in his darkened eyes.

"Release me."

"Don't act as if I put you in that position against your will, Neuvillette," Wriothesley said with a smile on his face. Neuvillette let out a sigh when he saw Wriothesley put the kamera down on his desk, but tensed again when the duke got too close to him. He took a step back, but Wriothesley wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close to him.

"Oh? You suddenly don't want me around?"

Neuvillette kept his lips pressed firmly together, his brow furrowed, and he looked rather angrily at Wriothesley. It was true that he had agreed to do this stupid photo shoot with Wriothesley... but he should have known that this pervert would have had other things in mind.

"Haah!" Neuvillette gasped as he suddenly felt a tickle on his side, turning his head to that spot, his eyes widening at the sight of his feather-like head accessory tickling his skin. He squirmed and groaned, trying to escape the tickly touch as it travelled from his hip up to his underarm. His lips started to tremble and it didn't take long for a giggle to escape his lips when Wriothesley focused solely on his armpit.

"Oho? Is our Iudex a little ticklish here?"

Neuvillette gritted his teeth, but little giggles still filtered from between them. "U-Uhuhuntie me r-right this instant!" He commanded, squirming and shivering. "This is no way to treat the Iudex of- ah!"

Neuvillette trembled and moaned when the feather lightly teased the scales by his ribs. Wriothesley carefully stroked beneath them and Neuvillette let his head fall back with sharp breaths, as if trying to stop himself from making another noise.

"Why are you so angry, monsieur? You seem to be enjoying yourself~"

"Angh! N-No!" The feather quickly moved towards one of his pink, hardened nipples. Neuvillette arched his spine and moaned deeply, his erect cock twitching and leaking. "L-Let g-go- ngh!"

"Tickle, tickle, tickle, monsieur."

Neuvillette shook his head feeling his face on fire as moan after moan escaped his mouth. He jumped and sobbed when he felt his other nipple being pinched by Wriothesley's fingers.

"W-Wriothesley, I'm s-seherious!" He insisted, but his pleas fell on deaf ears and another giggle forced its way out when the duke pressed his lips against his armpit and moved the feather to the tip of his cock. "W-Wait, please! I'll c-cuhum!"

"Please do, Iudex. The night has barely begun~"

[strawberriesinbloom]

Day 7: Fidget

Love and Deepspace -- Zayne/Reader

~🍓~

Early mornings at Zayne’s place were tranquil. Quiet. Serene. Or, they would be if Zayne wasn’t such a workaholic. You slid into the living room on socked feet where Zayne typed away diligently on his laptop. You had found his stethoscope in his bedroom, and, after cleaning it, it laid nestled around your neck. 

“It’s time for Zayne’s check-up!” You called out as you pranced over to where he was sitting on the couch. 

Zayne peered at you over his glasses. His lips quirked up in amusement as he stopped typing. “And why would I need a check-up?” he asked.

“Doctor’s orders,” you replied simply before picking up his laptop and moving it to the side. Zayne didn’t protest as you sat down in his lap. “A little birdie told me that you have been working all morning even though it’s your day off. That’s not healthy.” 

Zayne didn’t bat an eye. “And a little birdie told me that you have been staying up the past few nights playing video games even though you have work in the morning.”

You pouted at him. “This isn’t about me,” you chided. “It’s about you.” You slipped the stethoscope over your ears. With one hand, you steadied yourself by placing it against Zayne’s side. He tensed under your grip, so you loosened it up a tad. You dragged the chest piece over to Zayne’s chest and moved it a bit before you were finally able to hear a heartbeat. It was low-pitched and firm–stable. You closed your eyes and listened to Zayne’s heartbeat for a moment: slightly quick but steadfast. It was comforting. 

“What’s your diagnosis, doctor?” Zayne asked quietly. Your thumb pressed against his side as you rubbed comforting circles into his skin. He twitched and tensed up, again, which was the opposite effect that you wanted.

“I think…” you said softly before taking the stethoscope off and placing it on the side table, “...that this patient is a little nervous.” You laid your hand on his other side, right under his armpit. Zayne jumped and anxiously placed his hands on your wrists. “He keeps fidgeting. Maybe he’s scared of the doctor.”

Zayne let out a low rumble that was reminiscent of a chuckle. “Maybe he’s simply nervous around this doctor in particular.”

You nodded sagely as though you were actually taking Zayne’s words to heart. “Could be,” you said. “Or maybe…” You leaned in right next to his ear. “This patient is just a little ticklish.”

Zayne stilled. “I’m not ticklish,” he said in all seriousness. “Why would you think that?” Although his cheeks were devoid of color, his ears told another story as they slowly grew more and more red. You would have chastised him for messing up the game you were playing, but he was too cute to be mad at. 

“What a silly question, Zayne,” you muttered as your fingers slowly traveled up his torso until they planted themselves neatly in the hollows of his underarms. “You’re good at hiding a lot of things, but not this.”

You wriggled your fingers in place, taking care to steady yourself when Zayne jumped. Now, his cheeks turned pink as they puffed out in a pitiful attempt to hold back his laughter. Zayne furrowed his eyebrows together. “Y-you’re so–ha…! Childish!”

“You weren’t complaining about that earlier,” you said in a sing-song tone, delighting in the labored sound of Zayne’s voice. You pinched and prodded at his armpits, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. Good. That made your job easier. Zayne didn’t even dignify you with a response. Instead, he kicked his leg out, accidentally hitting the coffee table. “Be careful, Zayne,” you teased. “You don’t want to make a mess, do you?” 

“Stop,” he grunted.

You giggled. Even if Zayne didn’t laugh, this was enjoyable in and of itself. “Who would expect that such a stoic guy such as yourself would be so ticklish? It’s ironic, isn’t it?” You knew Zayne wasn’t particularly stoic, at least, not with you, but that didn’t seem to matter as the flush on his face darkened. “You’re so cute…” you mumbled, digging deeper into his skin.

That was apparently enough to get Zayne to crack because he burst into loud laughter. “Stahahap! I’m beheheing seheheherious!”

“This is all a part of your checkup, Zayne,” you said, trying to return to your doctor persona. “I have to examine your lymph nodes.” You lightly fluttered your fingertips against Zayne’s armpits, or you tried to. It was difficult considering how tightly he was clamping his arms against his sides. 

Zayne wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. “Thihihihis is embarrassing!” Zayne managed to gasp out before falling back into a cascade of laughter. “Hehehahaha! You’re so–”

“I’m so what, Zayne?” you asked, quickening your tickling by a notch. “Finish that sentence, will you?”

“Nahahaha!” Zayne seemed to realize his mistake as he fell deeper into the couch. His arms twitched uselessly at his sides while his legs kicked out and twitched from underneath you. He bit his bottom lip to try to force down his smile, but that didn’t work to quell his giggles. “Plehehehese!” he laughed uselessly. 

With as much self-control as you could muster, you stopped tickling Zayne and pulled your hands out from his underarms. Zayne wrapped his arms around his torso. “Your examination is complete,” you said, pretending to write down on a clipboard. “Unfortunately, you suffer from giggling disease. It’s very fatal.”

Zayne took a second to let his breathing even out before he flashed you a wobbly smile that you were pretty sure wasn’t because you had just tickled the life out of him. “What’s the…” he sighed once more breathlessly, “...the treatment, doctor?” He looked up at you with such innocent doe eyes.

In place of a response, you leaned in and stole a kiss from his lips. They were warm. Soft. “Take five of these a day,” you whispered, bumping your forehead against his. “Doctor’s orders.”

Zayne kissed you back. 

[mehbles]

God level moobs

The moobs are colossal, pendulous masses of fat that dominate the chest, spilling outward and downward with an exaggerated softness that defies gravity. Each one is shaped like an overfilled sack of flesh, with a fullness that presses heavily against the upper belly below, creating deep, shadowed creases where they meet. Their weight pulls them downward, stretching the skin taut over the bulk of the fat while allowing for a slight sag at their rounded lower edges.

The areolas are stretched wide across the surface, darkened and textured, their diameter almost startling against the expansive, smooth flesh surrounding them. The nipples, softened by the immense pressure of the fat, point downward, nearly lost in the rolling abundance of the moobs’ lower curves. A faint sheen of perspiration glistens on the surface, gathering in the deep creases beneath them and adding to the impression of their overwhelming heft.

As they sweep outward toward the sides, the moobs merge seamlessly with the rolls of fat under the arms. Here, the softness continues in layered folds, cascading outward to form thick rolls that press against the underside of the upper arms. These side rolls are segmented and deep, their creases cutting into the flesh as though each fold struggles for space. The underarm area is a pocket of warmth and softness, the folds here darkened by shadow and touched with a faint dampness from the constant friction of the overlapping skin.

The back fat continues the story of excess, sprawling outward and downward in broad rolls that radiate from the shoulder blades. Thick, segmented rolls pile one on top of the other, starting high near the upper back and tapering into the waistline. The rolls are immense, curving around the sides and connecting with the side rolls and underarm fat, creating a continuous, uninterrupted expanse of lush, rippling flesh.

When viewed from the back, the shoulder blades are entirely engulfed, their outlines buried beneath layers of fat. Deep creases form where the rolls press together, and dimples and pockets of cellulite dot the surface, adding texture to the already dramatic landscape. The entire region sways and shifts with the body’s movement, a hypnotic display of softness and sheer volume that captures the eye.

[v-era-18]

Red Licorice: Chapter 11 - Black Widow

“You sure as hell won’t tell me what to do!” - (Y/n) (L/n) 

11

(Y/n) rushed into her home filled with elation for the first time in weeks. Glancing along the clock in the living room corner, she looked to see the time. At three thirty-six pm, she had about three hours to wash, shave, and lightly press her hair out. Now normally the girl was reluctant to bring out the hot comb and curlers, but for god's sake did she not want this moment to show out for her crush to pass her by.

And possibly make a certain Macher's eyes wander towards her. Of course, she wouldn't admit it out loud though. 

Moving through the kitchen she whipped out a fresh banana from the fridge along with two eggs and mayo. Placing the items on the table, she hurried to the bathroom pulling out an array of hair products for her scalp Blue Magic and Hot Six Oil Before grabbing the portable hair dryer. Making sure she had all the materials she began mixing the hair mask in a bowl on the kitchen counter, not only would this ensure more stretch of her hair for her silk press, but it would also add extra shine as well. 

While dispersing and covering sections of the mask unto her hair, she quickly went over the various items in her closet in her head. What the hell was she supposed to wear at a party? It would be her first time at a house party and she wanted to make sure she was doing everything right. Maybe she should wear the skirt again. As she thought about it she quickly dismissed it, she didn't want the others to think she didn't have any more clothes. The goal was to most definitely wear something eye catching, irresistible to the male gaze. 

Thinking back to her father’s vintage worn out shirts, there was an oversized tee that was faded black with a baseball tee, and remembering the dusty blue daisy dukes from her mother that could complete the look. Maybe she could cut the shirt and crop it like she's always done. Firm in her decision she went back to her hair making sure it was fully covered before setting up a hot comb in the kitchen with heat protectant. The plan was to press her hair to silk threads to last, so that way it'll be nice and fresh for the party.

(Y/N) entered the darkened bathroom, closing the door swiftly behind her. Switching on the bathroom light, the built-in shower radio crackled to life, filling the small space with the smooth melody of an old R&B song. The raven-haired girl stared at her reflection briefly, the lyrics of the song echoing in her mind: 

The girl is mine.

 The familiar scent of Nag Champa incense, a relic from the metaphysical store her mother used to frequent before her untimely demise, filled the air, adding a comforting yet bittersweet touch to the room.

She sighed deeply, pulling her hair into a loose bun to keep it out of the way. This afternoon was a timely transformation, containing a ritual she both dreaded and cherished. Wash Day. She turned on the shower, waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature, steam beginning to fill the room.

(Y/N) stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her skin, washing away the stress of the day. She reached for her favorite shampoo, working it into her scalp with practiced ease. The rich lather and the soothing scent of lavender filled her senses. Next, she applied a generous amount of conditioner, detangling her curls with a wide-toothed comb. Each stroke felt like a gentle caress, unraveling the knots not just in her hair, but in her mind as well.

After rinsing out the conditioner, she reached for her body wash, a luxurious shea butter blend. She massaged it into her skin, reveling in the creamy texture and the way it left her skin feeling soft and hydrated. The shower water flowed over her, creating a symphony of splashing sounds that combined with the music from the radio, creating a serene atmosphere.

With her skin thoroughly cleansed, (Y/N) carefully shaved her legs and underarms, the razor gliding smoothly over her skin thanks to the rich lather. The process was almost meditative, each motion deliberate and calming. Once finished, she rinsed off and turned off the water, stepping out into the steam-filled bathroom.

She patted her skin dry with a plush towel, the scent of the Nag Champa incense still lingering in the air. (Y/N) then applied her favorite body oil, a mixture of coconut and jojoba oils, working it into her skin with gentle, circular motions. The oil left her skin glowing and deeply moisturized. She followed up with a thick layer of cocoa butter lotion, sealing in the moisture and leaving her skin feeling silky smooth.

Next came her hair. (Y/N) unraveled her bun and divided her hair into sections, applying a leave-in conditioner and heat protectant. She used a blow dryer with a comb  attachment, carefully drying each section. The heat was just right, transforming her wet curls into soft, wavy tendrils landing on towards her mid back.

The routine was almost complete when the shrill ring of the phone cut through the peaceful atmosphere. It came from the kitchen, startling (Y/N). She froze, the sound jarring against the serene atmosphere  she had just created. The phone rang again, insistently. There was a brief toil of her decision weighing down on her currently, the last couple of times she answered the phone it didn't bode well for her in the end. The only result of a fairly ‘happy ending’ was with the masked man holding her and touching the most intimate parts of her body. 

At first she opted to just ignore it, continuing her routine starting to plug in her curlers and securing her hair with silver clips. They were split off into groups of four, freshly blown out hair ready to be turned into silky threads. She began to grab her hot comb when the sharp sound of the phone stung her ears once more.The telltale ring of the house phone set her heart in a frenzy. As her heart hammered in her chest, she glanced at the door of the bathroom weighing her options. It was only the afternoon, not even six o'clock yet, still bright outside. There was plenty of light to deem it safe for now.  Wrapping herself in her towel, she hurried out of the bathroom, fresh oil glistening on her skin. As she approached the kitchen, the ringing seemed louder, more urgent. She hesitantly picked up the phone, her breath bated with anticipation. 

"Hello?" she answered, her voice trembling slightly. The line crackled for a moment, and then there was silence. She strained to hear, but there was only the faint sound of static. “Hello? Aunt Gia is that you?” 

There was shuffling over the phone along with the sound of a hushed voice quite distant from the mouth piece. The clawing feeling of the need to hang up started to rise within her, after the past two days she really shouldn’t be answering any phone calls. Nerves rising she tried to be rational, maybe it was one of her friends nervous to check in on her after everything that happened this morning. There was also the possibility of her aunt wanting to check in on her knowing that she should be home by now, or possibly Randy making sure about the time. 

Honestly the killer would have to be stupid to call her in broad daylight. So with a soft sigh the girl tried one more time. 

“Randy is that you–,”

“IF YOU MENTION THAT IDIOT IN MY PRECENCE AGAIN I WILL SLIT HIS FUCKING THROAT UNDERSTAND?!” 

(Y/n) froze on the spot, her heart accelerating at an abnormal pace as she quickly covered herself more in the towel, feeling a familiarity of the night terror from the other night. Feeling the heated shame swell within her with being so careless she turned her head back and forth, looking around the kitchen and living area to see anything out of place. It was horrible that she was wearing even less clothing than the nightmare she had before, the last thing she wanted was a repetition of…. dubious affection. She quickly took notice of the knife's all being within the rack still untouched from the morning breakfast Gia cooked her this morning. Grabbing one quickly, she made way to the living room, hovering slightly to the front door, just in case she needed to make a quick run for it. 

“I said, do you understand (Y/n)?” The killer growled into the phone. 

The girl began to slowly nod only to realize that he couldn't see her, or at least she hoped not, and proceeded to answer, “Y-yes…I understand.” 

“Good girl,” She heard the praise over the phone causing her thighs to clench slightly, taking note that she was still very much naked underneath her towel. Humiliation and shame emerged from the reactions her body emitted, her core starting to throb along with the heated condensation down below. Swallowing hard, she gripped the knife tighter, grounding herself back to the current situation. “Now that we've gotten the unpleasantries out of the way, I would like to apologize for my behavior in the bathroom two nights ago–” 

“Is this some kind of joke?” She uttered into the phone, her frustration rising. The feeling of deja vu grew strong, the recounter of the vivid sleep situation that continued to haunt her was now occurring in real time. The shower, the phone call, the apology….the only thing missing was the couch.  “I've already lived this scenario…..where are you? I'm going to call the police and make a run for it, clothes or not–“

“You don’t have any clothes on? What an interesting fact to share with a killer over the phone ya little tease.” 

(Y/n) paused with her hand on the door, simply frozen in place. How was she making so many dumb mistakes? Telling the killer that she was scantily clothed? Why did she make the assumption that he could even see her? Because in the dream he was within the house? Was her fear really clouding her judgment? 

“You…you can't see me?” 

“If it makes you feel better I unfortunately can’t, I have ….other things to attend to at the moment.” The soothing voice of the male drew her in, a weight slowly leaving her shoulders at the brief confession. It was a good thing he couldn’t see her, and even to throw in the fact that he wasn't there as well. “Although it doesn't mean I don't want to see you any less precious. Don't get yourself all riled up now, we're just having a conversation.”

“A conversation? Why? What do you want from me? Listen if I said or did anything the past to warrant this I’m so sorry–” 

“Woah. Slow down, you never did anything wrong. In fact, out of the whole town you seem to have a good head on your shoulders…hence why I have a request.” 

(Y/n) scoffed bitterly, “You're asking me for something after killing my best friend? Do you hear how ridiculous that is?!” 

(Y/n) felt herself shake slightly in her towel, her nerves had caused her to quickly make an error regarding the simple information spewed from her lips. Her face was warm, eyes beginning to glass over in fear for what the strange man wanted from her. One minute it seemed as though he wanted to kill her easy and simple. Now he was trying to soothe and apologize for his behavior? As if his apology would excuse the death of Casey and near death experiences of her and Sidney. Just what the hell was going through the mind of this ghost faced killer? 

“When you put it like that you do have a point sweetheart, although it wasn't my intention to scare you…let's remind ourselves…who attacked first and got in the way.” 

“Wha-what do you mean–”

“ You aren’t my target….you just happen to place yourself at the scene of the crime. Hence why I’m getting to the other point as to why I’m calling.” The man growled into the phone, “Don’t go to Machers Party tonight.” 

The girl paused for a second, her heart pumping, “Who said I was going tonight? How do you know I was even invited?” (Y/n) was starting to grow weary with just how much the male knew about her. First he accused her of getting in the way of Sidney’s murder claiming she’s not a target, now he’s telling her not to go to Stu’s house for the party? 

Just what did this guy want from her?

A part of her wants to feel thankful that she wasn’t on the man’s hit list, however her brow furrowed in worry as to why he specifically chose to spare her. What could she have done to warrant such attention from the mysterious male either way? Did she express kindness to him and decided to press it forward? 

The girl's mind wandered to the night in the bathroom. The cool sensation of the knife dragging up her thigh, the protruding length constricted in his pants brushing against her-

“Earth to (Y/n)! Didja hear me?”

“Huh?”

The male scoffed impatiently on the other end of the line, “I said it doesn't matter how I know, you’re not going. Now you're going to call that nerd Meeks and tell him you’re no longer going after this call. You’re going to stay your pretty like behind home and–”

“No.”

There was a pause. 

“No?” The strange man's tone seemed to mock (Y/N)’s abrupt rejection of staying . 

“What did you just say (N/n)?” His playful tone transformed into a malicious warning. However the teen girl gripped the cord in her grasp tightly, her pink palms turning white with vengeance. 

She wasn’t going to allow the killer the satisfaction of bossing her around. Creep or not. She knew what he was doing, he wanted her to let her guard down, to believe that he’s on her side and that he means no harm. Only for him to come into her home later and kill or possibly rape her. As a horror fanatic she wasn’t dumb. What kind of killer who works alone as well as his stature comes into a party full of teens and starts killing them all? He wasn’t tall or as big as Micheal Myers or Jason Vorhees. He’d be walking into a suicide mission, the teens at the party would overrule him easily and he would be caught by the police within the next few minutes with them on patrol around Woodsburro. 

“Nice try, I’m not falling for that trick! I will admit you had me for a second, wanting me to believe you meant me no harm so I would stay  home so you would have the opportunity to kill me!” Her voice grew louder and more confident with each sentence spewing from her lips in distaste, “I’m done letting people tell me what to do! You sure as hell won’t tell me what to do! ”

The masked man made an uncomfortable sound, one that made her heart thump in her ears with how desperate the tone initially sounded as it vibrated against her ear canal. “Precious, please just listen–”

“No! Everyone has had a chance to speak for me! It’s time for my moment to take a stand for myself, I’m going to that party! I might even get drunk and make out with a guy or two while I’m at it!” The proclamation was a bold one, one to simply rile the dangerous masked man on the other side for good measure to display how serious she was about going. A part of her wanted the imagery to spark something in the male, the one that seemed to have a connection to her somehow on the other end. 

“WHAT DID YOU JUST–”

In fear and newfound determination (Y/n) abruptly hung up the phone silencing the killer's response to her proclamation. For two minutes she stood there staring at the phone, wondering if she made the biggest mistake in her entire life-or the most life changing. She just got done telling off a serial killer in order to go to her first house party, and oddly–it felt so good.

She gave it another three minutes to see if the masked man would call again before heavinging a sigh of satisfaction. He possibly was in a fit of rage at her at the moment— after all he did seem like the type that didn't want to be spoken over. Not only that if he truly was planning something tonight, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plans due to her being there, a double edge sword waiting to slay him at each point. Looking around the house to make sure there wasn't anything odd and out of place, she deemed the house safe enough for her to finish off her routine. Due to the phone call she had an hour and thirty minutes left to get ready. 

Now, where was she?

Adjusting her towel in the kitchen, she sassed walked her way back to her room in elation for the second time this week. Head seat on giving herself a night she wouldn't forget as well as her peers. 

If only she knew she was indeed correct, this wasn't going to be a night she was never going to forget as long as she lived.

~ ☿ ~

Sidney rested her head against the window of the police cruiser. The town was currently desolate, only a few people here and there grabbing what they needed before the new impending curfew. Signs were hung up in window sills in explanation, turns out business owners were taking things seriously as well, and who could blame them? A killer was at large and it could be anyone. The last thing they want to do is be open and they come in blazing for a slice or dice. 

“God look at this place,” Sidney grimaced, “it's The Town That Dreaded Sundown.” 

Dewy chuckled to make light of dark circumstances, “Hey, I saw that movie. Based on a true story, ‘bout some killer in Texas.” 

“Hey Sid, just think if they make a movie about this, who's gonna play you?” Tatum smiled. The strawberry blonde was trying to make light of current events happening lately, Stu hasn’t been answering her calls after the invitation in the courtyard, and she basically had to endure evil looks from many students today in light of things. She honestly could feel the weight of her decisions weighing down on her. 

Tatum didn't want to be viewed as the girl who went behind her friends back and slept with their boyfriends, nor the one that lashes out because of her insecurities. The girl did have many faults of her own to deal with, many including her own self esteem, but  Casey’s dairy added more problems than she could deal with. And was that was putting things lightly 

What happened to her? She used to be okay with just being herself, dressing up and ready to hang out with friends. When did she start becoming boy crazy and having a vendetta against her two friends? The jealousy and malice were things developed over time against (Y/n) and Casey. They seemed to have so much, loving figures, adoring friends, beauty….

Even though (Y/n) never looked at her potential fully, it was no secret she was beautiful. So when Tatum assessed the way Stu watched her over and over again, it clicked but she didn't want to affirm it. She didn't want to know that the girl harbored her crush's heart, that he was secretly wishing it was her he was having sex with, kissing, loving on without actually saying the words back to her. 

“Oh god no…..,” Sidney whispered, “Don’t bring that idea up to (Y/n), she most definitely would tell me the details.” The brunette paused, watching her best friend's smile drop instantly at the girl's name. She winched realizing her mistake of salted wounds still being harbored. 

“A shit-shoot, I’m sorry Tatum-” 

“There's nothing to be sorry about ....I did this to myself. I got in the way and now,” She turned to Sidney, a sad expression etched upon her lips, “I have to face the repercussions.” 

Dewy peered through the mirror sadly at her sister. He wished there was only more he could do for her suffering but what could he do? Half of the things she was referring to he hadn't experienced himself. 

He brings the car to a stop in front of the police station, turning around and giving the girls the most brotherly smile he can muster for the situation. “Well to continue our conversations from before,” He said turning to Sid, “I see you as a young Meg Ryan myself.” 

Sidney offered a small upturn of the lips in  gratitude, “Thanks Dewey, but with my luck they’d cast Tori Spelling.” 

The two girls get out of the car making their way to the supermarket across the street. The Grocery store was a buzz for many teens grabbing quick snacks and beers for an apparent occasion. Sideny could hear the hustle and bustle about horror movies as well as the documentary marathon. The two grab a buggy from the bin before making their way through the sliding glass doors.  Unfortunately for Tatum it was the news about something else that drew her attention. 

“What should we wear to the party tonight? I'm pretty sure Evan will be there, after all it's not everyday Macher throws a party..” A brunette with glasses whispered to her redheaded friend over by the ice cream department they were passing. 

Yes, right the party….

The one Stu invited them to show no hard feelings. The only reason Tatum grew interested was the promise to talk things over there with him. Why? A small part of her hoped for the truth: an explanation as to why things fell apart between the two of them so fast. Although the girl assertions to the male with being responsible for the current scandal, she simply didn't want to acknowledge her part in the drama. 

Sidney looks at Tatum, her face growing queasy, “Do you think Billy will be there tonight?” 

“He better not be, although I didn't tell Stu to keep his mouth shut when I had the chance, I think we can live without “ Everybody's All American” for one night.” Tatum snided looking at a pair of chips before making her way down the aisle.  

The girls started piling in a whole bunch of junk food and treats for the night. Taking note of the long line of teens at the cash register, due to the curfew the store would be closing in a few minutes. 

Sidney’s mind traveled back to a certain girl with curly hair, “Do you think (Y/n) will be there?” 

Tatum paused for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest before responding, “(Y/n) and parties don’t go together. We all know that.” 

The brunette started to nod in agreement but thought better of it, “But what if she decides to come? Stu did invite us out as an apologie was well you know, wouldn't it make sense he convinced her as well—” 

“Do you honestly think after us being shit friends that she would actually want to be around us?” The strawberry blonde hissed with venom, her eyes seemed steamy at the thought of the curly headed girl staring at her, “I-I mean after what I did? After what me and Stu did? After what me and you did?!” 

Sidney frowned and paused with a two-liter of Pepsi in her arms, “What happened that night at that sleepover wasn't my idea, let's be clear about that.” 

It was true. Tatum was the one who decided to come up with the plan to corner (Y/n) in the first place, Sidney only had a few small concerns with her and Billy’s friendship, but the way Tatum made it seem like the curly girl had ill intentions. Sidney will admit that she went along with it, but she honestly thought it would be discussed in a more appropriate manner. Never did she want the outcome to happen that night the way it did with (Y/n) crying into Casey’s arms the rest of the night. The girl was a lot of things with her friends, some might even consider her a follower at some moments. However, this discussion and the way it was headed between the two of them had to set matters straight. 

Sidney loved Tatum, with her whole heart and soul; but she needed to learn to take accountability. 

Tatum paused the cart, her face growing pink, “You had concerns just like me! I thought it was the right thing to do!” 

“Your jealousy made you cloud your judgment–” 

“I’m not jealous!”

Onlookers in the store stopped and paused looking over at the two girls. Sidney stiffened watching the attention being drawn to the two of them before hearing the faint whispers. Great, the last thing she wanted was for word to get around about her and Tatum having a disagreement. 

Sighing and growing tired of her friend's display of fanatics, Sidney grabbed the cart from the blonde and made way to the line. It seemed like a moment for Tatum to recollect herself before following, wrapping her arms around herself in comfort. A few girls were glancing over, whispers exchanged with giggles. 

Changing the subject back to herself, Sidney whispered  “Billy’s right you know. Whenever he touches me I just can't relax.”

Tatum slightly rolled her eyes, “So you have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother’s  untimely death.” Despite the tense air between the two she proceeds to place a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, “It’s no big deal. You’ll thaw it out.” 

“Yeah, but he has been so patient with me you know with all the sex stuff. How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who’s sexually anorexic?” 

“Randy…” The blonde uttered. 

“Huh?” 

“Billy and his penis don't deserve you, all right?” Tatum spoke up disregarding her thought a moment earlier. “If sex is the thing stopping your relationship then maybe….” 

Sideny glanced at her best friend, her heart hammering—waiting for the words she was anticipating from her friend's mouth “Then maybe?”

“Then maybe you two should bring your items forward,” A checkout lady cut into the conversation, “We close in five, and there's a line behind you.” 

The two girls' faces grew warm and quickly proceeded to place their items quickly onto the checkout counter. 

The elderly woman shook her head, displeased, “Kids these days.” 

~ ☿ ~

Dewey stalked up to the station quickly, trying his best to check in with the sergeant before picking up the two girls in time for curfew. It had honestly been a long day after so many things were happening down at the police station.  After the many interviews from the press as well as the occasional suspect pointed here and there, it was safe to say the other officers had a lot of pressure on this particular case. 

A lot more than the past two large ones they had in the past might add.

Taking a puff out of his cigarette Sheriff Burke glared at the upcoming deputy, “Dewey? Where the hell have you been!” 

“I was keeping an eye on Sidney, uh…” The Sheriff looked down at Dewey's hands spotting the ice cream cone clearly displeased with the sight. If the male wasn't so concerned about his sister's best friend he wouldn't feel embarrassed, but putting theories together to figure out who the killer was worked him quite the appetite. To save face the deputy opted to distract his boss from his silly display, “Thought you quit?”

“I did.” Burke admitted, taking another long drag, “But damn it Dewey, Vital Phone just faxed us. Those calls are listed to Neil Prescott, Sidneys father. He made the calls with a cellular phone. It's been confirmed.” 

Dewey shook his head, taking a lick out of his ice cream in thought. There was no way Mr. Prescott would do something of this magnitude, especially to his own daughter. “There's no way his cellular coulda been cloned?”. Technology was advancing each day, and there was a possibility that the man was being framed with devices that could question his integrity. Although Neil had a big job and was a well respected man, there was always someone who looked down at him here and there. A now single dad trying to raise his daughter by his lonesome.

Sheriff  blew out smoke, frustrated, “There's more. Guess what tomorrow is. The anniversary of his wife's death.” Dewey pursed his lips together in understanding, the pieces were all there and laid out, “ We’ll keep the roadblocks and the curfew in effect through the night, if he's not picked up by morning, then we’ll do a house-to-house. Boy I hate to say it but Miss Weathers was onto something…even if she went about it in an illegal manner and disrupted the peace this morning’. ” 

Dewey nodded then paused, thinking back to a certain curly headed girl from before, “But sir, what does this have to do with (Y/n) (L/n)? The killer was reported to have  an infatuation with her. What would Neil Presscott want with her?” 

Burke looked around to make sure there's nobody around before continuing, “I have a theory, and I'm only able to pinpoint itr from what I've seen lately. Two weeks ago I saw Neil with another woman during lunch.. They seemed to be acquainted with one another.” 

Dewey cocked a brow, not fully understanding, “Another woman? What does the other woman have to do with (Y/n)” 

The Sheriff scoffed, “It has a lot to do with her if the lady is her legal guardian and family.” 

A gasp left the male's lips in shock and mortification, his ice cream being lowered in his hand. “You don't mean–” 

“You know exactly who I mean Dewey! The woman he’s been seeing is no other than Gia (L/n) , the sick bastard is getting rid of all obstacles! I'm going to get Montana to get her to our office in an hour.” 

Dewey shook his head in disagreement, the urge to debunk the theory of Gia being involved with the man itched at his tongue. Miss (L/n) was a friendly face to all who knew her, to even think that she could be involved with a criminal willingly for some grander scheme made his blood boil. What about the many times she brought freshly made cookies over the Riley home when Tatum wasn't feeling well, or the times she wished him luck with his training to become a deputy? Was the Sheriff really going to ignore the women's integrity?

What about her own niece (Y/n), the only living fraction she has left of her brother that was shot and killed in an alleyway? Did she honestly seem like the kind of woman who would set her whole world to be murdered in the mad man's house? For love? For new devotion?

There was no way Gia knew anything about Neil Prescott's involvement. Dewey knew that for a fact. 

“No, Gia would never Sheriff,” Dewey took a bite out of his cone, icecream the sickly sweet substance dribbled down his lips comically. Burke turned up his lip, the cigar moving long with his mood. “I mean, Miss (L/n) is one of the nicest laddies in town! What reason would she risk dealing with such a dangerous man…especially if..” 

The sheriff noticed the Deputies' hesitation to finish.  

“Now I'm not saying she's involved, Dewey. I'm stating facts about the man and what we know. Picking up Gia is a safety precaution and questions need to be done in order to see if we are missing anything.” Burke released a puff of smoke watching as stores started to close early for the evening. A particular couple is hurrying to their car, the pregnant wife lugging some groceries as best as she can while the husband loads everything up into the trunk. “For all we know he could be using her to make himself seem like a normal man trying to move on from his dead wife.” 

Dewey nodded, finishing off the cone before tossing it, his brows furring in thought, “Have you contacted the bureau?” 

“They believe he might be out of state by now. We’ll keep the roadblocks and curfew in effect through the night. If he's not picked up by morning—we’ll do house to house.” 

“You think he might still be in town? Maybe he's hiding off somewhere secluded?”

Burke huffed, “He'd have to be crazy. Where's Sidney and (Y/n)?”

Dewey frowned, thinking back to the horrendous cries of the afro haired girl from earlier that morning. “ Sidney’s with my sister, and (Y/n)...I haven't really seen her since this morning. Should I bring them in? Especially (Y/n), the girl has been through alot–”

“Hold off for now, just stay close to them. As far as (Y/n) is concerned don’t let her know anything pertaining to Gia. We don't want any assumptions to arise between the two.” 

It was understandable. The last thing they needed was wind about Gia to reach the teen girl and for her to think the worst. The bond between the two was obviously strong, a case like this and secrets being unearthed could shatter the foundation between two family members that was all that they have left. 

“Sidney and (Y/n) will be staying over Stu Machers tonight.” Dewey informed stiffly. 

“Watch em’. Don't let on— just keep your eye out.” 

“Yes Sir.”

[dreamingofeos]

—⋆⊰  “[I]n the meantime... try to stay out of trouble? We'll never find Tails if you do something ridiculous.”

ROUGE'S words echo in his mind, looping like a broken record and yet already lost in the cacophony of irate static. Smaragdine that remains singularly, usually looking on with a distant, yet gleaming hope, now lours forward with utter rancor at its target.

❝So. You were the one helping that bastard this whole time?❞ STEP, step, step. Seas of eyes surround the both of them, watching on with a mix of malignancy and apprehension. ❝I would have expected Breezie, or maybe even Jet, but you…❞

 CUPPING hands over her mouth, a gentle whisper leaves Amy's mouth. ❝Please, say it isn't true… not you!❞

 ❝Sonic,❞ CAUTIOUSLY stepping backward as he's closed in on, circled like the prey animal to a hungry wildcat, rubies attempt to keep eye contact, ❝This isn't how it was supposed to turn out. We were lied to. We tried to stop him when we found out. He told us that Tails was—❞

 ❝YOU were lied to?!❞ UNWITTING to allow Terios to finish his explanation, a windblast springs forward as rigid arms keep him pinned to the back of the hangar, pushing harder every second. ❝Don't you dare make yourself the victim in this situation. Because of what you did, Tails is gone! It's been nearly three years and the only proof we have that he's even alive at all is a voice recording he managed to send to us! Have you even considered what Robotnik could be putting him through?! He's all alone out there and it's your fault!❞

 ❝Sonic, it was more than—❞ ATTEMPTING twice to rouse the attention of the inconsolably vexed hedgehog proves fruitless as hands, calloused and painful from their undulating work, snap over that throat, pressing hard. Flittering pupils frenetically search the room, that mind losing its sense of self— is Sonic changing in appearance, or is it just the asphyxiation attacking his perception?

 ❝Blue, stop!❞ WINGS kick into gear as Rouge whisks forward, hands gripping tight to biceps from behind. ❝This is Shadow here, there's gotta be a good reason he—❞

—⋆⊰  THAT protest tapers off as Sonic turns. Rouge bears witness to the sight up close— true azure fur has darkened to a sickly, muted indigo, pupils lost to voids of white, the same color as the double stripes painted down his head. Coarsely, she's thrown off, sent flying backwards. Sharply acting, Amy lurches, grabbing her underarms before the back of her head is to hit the stannic wall.

❝The time for talking is done. He had THREE YEARS to talk! He KNEW and said nothing! All while he helped us search! All while he— while YOU— said you loved me! Was any of it ever true?! Or were you just using me?!❞ Cocking his head to the side with a sickening crack of bones, Shadow is lifted off his feet one-handed, a field of flames surrounding his assailant. ❝You took EVERYTHING FROM ME.❞

 ❝Wh—What's going on?!❞ SHIELDED by Knuckles, Cream peeks her head out, wide-eyed dread and dismay brushed over her face. ❝Sonic is—! Mr. Sonic, please! What's happening to you?!❞

 ❝He's in a state of raw, unwavering rage,❞ INTERJECTING in spite of her silence for the entirety of the ordeal prior, Shade's eyes follow Sonic's form, rising into the air with hands still clung forcefully to the throat of his struggling adversary. Normally, they're evenly matched, but in this sudden strange state— it seems Terios doesn't stand a chance. ❝He won't stop until the Ultimate Lifeform is naught but ash at his feet. …So if anyone has any ideas to stop it before it gets out of control, now is the time to speak.❞

—⋆⊰ REMOVING his hat, gifting it to Cream as she shivers, Knuckles steps forward finally, looking up at the scene. Eyes make quick work of the surroundings, seemingly concocting a plan in the moment. In spite of his outmatched state, Terios' own person has begun a transformation, the sprouting of impish wings from his back enough to push Sonic away from him as he regains footing, hovering overhead.

❝You're hopeless! Listen to me, you old fool!❞

 ❝I'LL DIE BEFORE I EVER LISTEN TO ANOTHER WORD YOU SAY AGAIN!❞

 ❝Amadalia,❞ GRUFFLY addressing her, without craning his head back, he points to the path into the tropics of the beachside, ❝Take the Chao and get them to safety. It won't end well for them to be stuck here during this. Rouge, get Cream home. We might have to evacuate the city if this doesn't get contained.❞

 JOLTING a bit, looking to her friend, Amy nods. She'll correct him on her name again later. ❝R—Right!❞

 ❝On it. Cream, let's get going.❞

 ❝No, wait! I want to help the Chao, too! If I can't help Sonic, I still wanna do something!❞ FISTS clenched, Cream turns to Amy. ❝Amy, please take me with!❞

 ❝Cream…❞ TOUCHED by the display of determination and bravery shown by her friend in the abrupt and terrifying situation, a nod is given once more as their fingers lace together. ❝Okay! Let's go get those Chao!❞ 

—⋆⊰ WITH Amy and Cream warping away, and Rouge breezing off into the sunset, Shade turns to look at Knuckles, the two being the only ones left.

❝And what of me?❞

 ❝Shade, come with me.❞ GANDERING back towards her, the two lock eyes. ❝We'll have a better chance stopping this in its tracks if we get up there together.❞

—⋆⊰ THE pair of echidnas nod to one another, and as their gazes both turn back to Sonic and Shadow, locked in a baroque duel in the sky, they take off running. As they near, Sonic's body convulses tumultuously, that display of fire burning hotter and brighter, and sending a flare up into the sky. The amber hues blaze, tinging a blue shade.

art credit (x) (x) (x)

[houdinicarpenter]

THE OTHER SIDE

When Tara's hysterical screaming interrupts her phone call, Sam goes to investigate and finds herself in for a challenge.

fandom: Scream characters: Tara Carpenter, Sam Carpenter, Chad Meeks-Martin, & Mindy Meeks-Martin content: sfw tickle fic, post Scream VI, siblings doing stupid shit a/n: i'm very nervous to post this. i originally wrote it as an experiment and had no intention of posting it, but i've been encouraged to do so by some dope-ass people (even if they have no idea what it is that i wrote). also... if this fic looks/reads familiar to you, no it doesn't 🤫

“NAAA-HA-HA-HA! STA-HA-HA-HAP I-HI-HIT!”

Around her little sister’s scream-laughing, Sam pressed the phone against her ear, closing the other with her ear to hear Danny’s voice on the other end.

“I’m good Wednesday or Friday. So, whichever day you’re free…”

“Uh…” She took a moment to think it over, before a loud squeal cut into her thoughts. She refocused. “Wednesday… I think?”

“Okay, I—” Before he could finish his reply, Tara’s hysterical vocals drowned him out again.

“AAHH-HA-HA-HA-HAAA! GUY-HY-HY-HYYYS! PLEEE-HE-HEASE!”

Sam sighed and brought a hand to her head. “Danny, can you just hold that thought for a minute? I’m gonna have to call you back. My sister’s screaming about something, and I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” She hung up and left her phone on the couch as she made way towards Tara’s room, where the noise was coming from. She busted open the door. “What is going on?!” 

Tara was lying halfway in Chad’s lap and halfway on the floor, her face bright red and chest heaving, while Chad held her against him and Mindy moved away from her. She looked between the three, expecting an answer.

“Tara was being a little turd, so we tickled the hell out of her,” Chad reported. Still in his hold, his girlfriend looked up desperately at her sister. 

“More like they tried to kill me!” Chad snaked a couple fingers into her underarm and gave it another scratch, to which silenced the younger Carpenter with a ticklish whine. “Stop it!”

The eldest just sighed and shook her head. As irritated as she’d seemed on the phone, now that she knew what the noise was all about, she couldn’t help but give a playful roll of her eyes. Even at 20 years old, her baby sister was still as ticklish as she’d been when they were kids. She’d always fallen victim to the quote-unquote, “Tickle Monster,” when she’d get on Sam’s bad side. Of course, she’d never hurt her, like other older siblings might. However, all the older Carpenter had to say when Tara was starting to get on her nerves was, “I’m gonna get you, Tara, if you don’t stop.” It was enough to warn the little girl off, unless she was feeling extra risky that day—which she did a lot. “Okay, well, keep it down,” she told them, “I was on the phone, all the way in the living room, and I couldn’t hear over the screaming.”

But Mindy just shrugged. “It’s not our fault she’s so ticklish,” she insisted, nodding towards the youngest.

Her brother kissed the top of his girlfriend’s head, before he let her go and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I did not expect that.”

While she watched Tara retreat onto her bed for safety, Sam crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Yep. She’s always been that way,” she confessed, making the other’s already-flushed face darken even more.

She glared at her. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not ticklish, Sam. I know you are.” If Sam was going to expose her, like it was nothing, then two could play it that game. “Mom and Dad got you good many times, and so did I.”

Before her big sister could say anything to defend herself, Chad challenged, “Okay, but is she as ticklish as you?”

Tara met his gaze confidently, even leaning forward a bit to show her sincerity, “Yes.”

“No,” Sam immediately objected, gaining all of their attention.

“Ooh…” Mindy glanced between the sisters. “Somebody’s lying…” She and Chad exchanged glances, before she put her hands up towards each sister. “Maybe we should test it?”

Tara shook her head, when the twins looked at her. “Don’t look at me, I just did my test. I’m still trying to recover.” She pointed at Sam, “That’s the liar, right there. Test her.”

But when she received all eyes again, Samantha shook her head with a disbelieving scoff. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” Right as she turned around to walk out, her younger sister’s voice fought her to stay.

“Why?” she quizzed, leaping off the bed and slipping past the threshold to stop her from leaving. “Don’t think you can take it?” There was a sparkle in her eyes that mimicked her child years. After what just happened, she had nothing to hide, but Sam was another story.

“I can take it!” the older snapped, not realizing how defensive she sounded.

“Then, why not?”

“Because it’s stupid.”

“Then, prove me wrong,” Tara insisted, stepping forward to force her sibling to back up into her bedroom. Sam’s brow hardened a little, which made her go on to propose, “For a full minute, we get to tickle you and see if you’re as bad as me.”

The other was already rolling her eyes and sighing, indirectly saying everything she’d been insinuating about it. “Tara…”

“What?” she grinned. “If you think it’s so stupid and you insist that you’re not as ticklish as I remember, then one minute should be nothing, right?” She took another step forward, cornering her further. “If you win, you can choose to do or make me do anything you want. You can have revenge, make me do the dishes or make me cook dinner for a week, whatever you want,” she offered. “But if I win, I get bragging rights, and I get to tell Danny.”

“Ooooohhhh,” Chad teased the idea as he looked up at Sam, who was now almost standing in front of him. 

This made Tara’s smirk grow as she raised her eyebrows. But her big sister just blinked at her, unfazed.

“You’re serious?”

Instead of replying, the younger just took a step back and held her hand out for a deal-making handshake. Her smile dropped into a serious expression. “Deadly.”

On the inside, Samantha was groaning at how ridiculous this idea was, but she knew if she were to keep refusing, none of them would get off her back. It was a minute. 60 seconds. That was it. After, she’d be free to walk away without being hounded about irrelevant nonsense. She had to admit, she truly didn’t know how she’d take this ‘challenge,’ because Tara was right, it had literally been years since she’d been in a situation like that. And everybody and their dog knew just how much she’d changed from her younger self.

“Fine, I will do it, to make you get off my ass…” 

Tara’s head tilted in a form of a nod, “Fair enough.” She then made way to her bed and jumped up on it, spinning around to sit like a dog. She tapped the space next to her, “Take a seat, Sammy.”

While she looked calm on the outside, the older Carpenter’s heart started to pick up speed as she moved towards her assigned spot. She sat down with a sigh, to which invited her sister to move behind her, making a half-circle around her like a cat to its human’s leg.

“Just to let you know,” she warned, “if you start to get out of control, Chad’s gonna have to hold you.”

“What the—”

“You agreed to a minute, we shook on it!” she reminded, cutting her off. “You’re strong, so I can’t trust that you won’t fight for escape.”

Sam just wanted to get it over with, as much as she was quickly growing to hate it. She swallowed uneasily, but luckily Tara didn’t hear.

“Chad, Mindy, what are you still doing down there? I’m gonna need backup!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Chad leapt off the floor, while Mindy came around the opposite side of the bed and pulled her phone out.

“You better be timing this shit,” Sam growled.

“I got it right here,” Mindy flashed the screen in the others’ direction. “Tell me when, T.”

Tara sat down right at her sister’s back and rubbed her hands together like she usually did when she was about to kick someone’s ass in a game. “Go!”

Not even a second after the cue was given, Samantha felt her sibling’s fingertips skitter up her back and through her hair to get to her neck. Instinctively, she stiffened, but she stayed where she was. A swarm of chills flooded her, but it wasn’t the cold-type. It was the kind that told your brain that your skin was crawling, and it wasn’t sure how to respond.

Tara still maintained her confidence as she drug her perfectly filed nails around to the sides of her neck, threatening to further explore the soft underside of her throat. She got more of a reaction here, the older’s shoulders jerking up, while a small noise emitted from her larynx. Bingo. She then put her lips up to her ear, intentionally whispering, “Is Sammy afraid of the Tickle Monster?” Whispering into her ear had always been something Sam couldn’t stand, because it tickled.

And like she expected, her older sister twisted away, her face cringing as she closed one eye and hissed in irritation. Baby pink talons slithered beneath her chin, which made her try to back up, but she just ended up bracing against Tara.

The younger Carpenter giggled at this and slithered her fingers down her collarbone and into her underarms. The owner’s spine twisted, clenching her arms to her figure, but it just trapped her dangerous touch. 

Sam’s barrier broke, and she started to snicker as she tried to twist away. However, a different pair of hands crept onto her torso to keep her where she was, and just that contact made her snickers turn into giggles. She pulled her knees up and tried to push Chad off of her.

“I didn’t even start ticking her, and she’s already laughing.” Chad looked over at Tara, who encouraged him with a nod.

“Well, get on it! Time’s running out!” She relieved her sister from scratching at her underarms and went back up to her neck.

Her boyfriend shrugged and obeyed her order as he attacked the victim’s abdomen and ribs with menacing fingertips. 

A loud whine came from Samantha, before she erupted into full-on laughter. She kicked out in a struggle to gain a grip on the mattress to push herself out of her 2nd tormentor's reach.

Tara had to work around her writhing, making her think back on what she had claimed before she agreed to this. “You’re squirming a lot for someone who swore they could take it, Saaam,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

Beneath her dominance, the older Carpenter choked out, “Shu-hu-hut up, Ta-ha-hara!” She shook her head, shoving her hands against Chad’s.

From the head of the bed, Mindy shouted, “She’s tryin’ to get away! Chad, switch places with Tara!” She held her phone up, “She’s got 40 seconds!”

The pair did so, in a smooth transition, Tara not taking her hands away from her sibling as she tickled down her sides and in between her ribs.

Given his size, Chad was able to get a hold on Sam pretty quickly. He slipped his forearms beneath her arms and dragged her back until she was mostly on the bed, holding her upper body in his lap, like he had done with Tara only minutes ago. There, he was able to twist his wrists to occupy her collarbone, some of her neck, and her upper ribcage.

The underdog was in a constant cycle of guffaws and wheezing, her face bright red from the intensity, which mimicked her little sister’s patterns as well. She wasn’t even able to get words out before Tara took things to the next level. 

She slipped her hands beneath her big sister’s shirt and forced it up, before going after her bare stomach. “How about this, Sammy?” she taunted as she earned a squeal from her new tactic, “Does this tickle even more?”

Samantha gave a hard buck, her head throwing back into Chad, which she instantly regretted when his fingers danced on her exposed throat. She pulled her head down. “NAAH-HA-HA-HA! TA-HA-HARA-HA-HAAA!” Her knees yanked in, but to no avail, simply leaving them to kick out again in another buck.

Her sibling kept one hand on her fluttering belly, while the other controlled her legs by raking her nails into her inner thighs. “It’s not just me!”

“20 seconds!”

“Come on, Sam! Finish it out!” Chad cheered her on from above, even though he was busy scratching at her ribs. He retreated one arm enough to then tickle beneath her underarm again. “Find your inner Loomis! Prove Tara wrong!”

The older Carpenter nearly shrieked, when he did this, one hand weakly holding Tara’s wrist while she tried to bear the handle he had on her left ribcage to shrug out of his new point of captivation. “S-STAA-HA-HA-HAP! I C-CA-HAAA—” Her voice gave out in another violent wheeze.

With the grace of a cat, Tara eased up on her contribution to leap over her big sister and finish the rest of the time on the opposite side. Her back was turned to Mindy as she tore into Sam’s lower abdomen, slipping her nails beneath her beltline to assault the sensitive flesh between her hips that she knew would throw her overboard. “I almost forgot about this spot!” A squeal-entwined “no” answered her, and she trailed one hand away to skitter down her bent leg, catching the sole of her foot. “And here!”

Sam retreated her leg instantly. “NO, TA-HARA, DO-HO-HO-HON’T!” She braced her heel into the bed to try and push herself up out of her lying position. 

However, before her baby sister could do anymore damage, the timer went off and was followed by Mindy lunging forward.

The female twin broke the challenge to wrap her arms around Tara’s waist and pull her backwards. “Extra 15 seconds for Tara!” she announced, pinning her against her and digging her fingers into the younger’s stomach. “TICKLE ATTACK ON THE CARPENTER SISTERS!”

Tara exploded into shrill laughter, still too weak from earlier to push her off. “NO-HO-HO! STOP! THA-HA-HAT’S NOT FAI-HA-HA-HAIR!”

“Careful what you wish for, babe!” Chad teased and continued his playful torment on Sam, while his girlfriend’s familiar squeals and laughter filled his ears.

The younger Carpenter kicked and shook her head furiously as Mindy raised one hand to wave her fingers in front of her view. She was just as much a victim to air-tickles—when already under the ticklish spell—making her squeal when those dreadful words came from her attacker’s tongue.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” Meeks-Martin taunted, then unleashed merciless fingertips everywhere Tara couldn’t cover.

“AAHHH-HA-HA-HA-HAAAA! NAH-HA-HA-HAT THA-HAAT!” She bucked and thrashed, receiving karma for her cruel treatment on her older sister. “MI-HINDYYY-HE-HEEE!”

Chad was the one to call everything off after 15 seconds, which was more like 20 for Mindy and Tara. “Alright, Mindy! That’s a wrap, they look like they’re about to pass out,” he told her.

Luckily, his sister obeyed and let Tara lean against her as she recovered.

The football player sighed as Samantha covered her eyes with one hand and rested the other on her still-exposed stomach, panting almost in-sync with her sister. He glanced over to his sibling. “Aw, I kinda feel bad now…”

Before she could reply, Sam did, breathlessly. “Good… You should…”

“Hey,” Mindy piped up, “It was your sister’s idea!”

Tara pushed herself up from leaning against the twin, glaring over her shoulder. “Yeah. And you messed it up!” she hissed, shoving her away. “The point was to target Sam, not me!”

But her former attacker just chuckled, “I know. But I couldn’t resist.”

She rolled her eyes and looked over at Chad. “So, what’s the verdict? Did I win?” She then glanced at the others.

Chad shrugged, “I don’t know… Sam doesn’t break as easily or quickly as you do.”

“That’s because she was trying! You guys caught me off guard,” she countered, then pointed to Sam, “She was expecting it!”

Mindy gave the younger Carpenter the benefit of the doubt, “Sam is a lot more squirmy than Tara is, though. Tara just kinda gives up.”

This made the youngest frown, “Okay, that’s rude. But it’s a point…”

By now, Samantha had caught her breath enough to sit up on her own, even though her abs ached from the laughing onslaught. She cleared her throat and combed through her ruffled hair. “Just make a decision,” she ordered as she pulled her shirt down to its intended length, “I told Danny I’d call him back, because Tara was being too loud.”

Finally, Chad put his hands up in defeat. “Honestly, I think it’s a tie,” he decided.

His girlfriend rolled her eyes and slouched her shoulders, “Okay, fine, but I still get my share of winning, right?”

Behind her, Mindy nodded, “Sure, but because y’all tied, Sam gets her pick on what you have to do, too.” She glanced up to the eldest, who stood up and continued to adjust her shorts.

The other two looked in her direction too.

“What do you want, Sam?” Tara asked in partial disappointment.

Her sister rubbed her hand over her face, then glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll think about it,” she answered, the small smirk pulling at her lips promising something that Tara would dread. Rightfully so though, with how she handled the so-called challenge. Oh, she would make her decision wisely. 

Chad chuckled at that response, while the younger Carpenter groaned. Beside them, Mindy jumped up.

“Alright!” She clapped her hands and pointed to Sam, “Now that that’s over, Sam, go call Danny back and finish your conversation. After that, we’ll watch the movie.”

Her brother nodded. “Agreed. Can’t have a slumber party with the Core Four without a good movie.” He glanced over to Tara as she slid off her bed and started towards the bathroom.

“I’ve gotta pee now, thanks to you, Mindy!” her voice carried as she shut the door.

That’s when Sam decided to take her leave. “Okay, I’ll let you know when I’m done. Or if you guys wanna go ahead and set it up, you can do that, but our TV’s a little different than the one that y’all have, so you might wanna wait for Tara.”

From beyond the bathroom door, Tara hollered. “Tell Danny to expect some dirt on you, in the near future!”

She just rolled her eyes and shook her head as she walked out.

───────────────────────────

🫣 welp... there you go

p.s. i've already been requested a pt. 2 for this so i'll be working on that in the near future. i don't know if i will be posting that one, but if this one does ok or if someone mentions they want me to share the 2nd part, i will consider :)

yolo, right?

- parker (HOUDINICARPENTER / BWS) 🖤

[rillils]

“You’re worth a lot more than this, Buck,”

SAM JUST SAID THIS TO BUCKY. AND HE LAUGHED. BUCKY LAUGHED.

he doesnt believe him, because if he really is worth a lot more than this, he thinks, then why did steve leave him

But of course, endgame isnt real

IM CRYING RILS. MY CHILD. LORD PLEASE. JUST LET HIM BE SOFT. AND LET HIM BE STEVE'S

of COURSE endgame isn't real, sweetheart, you're absolutely right!!! and bucky means SO MUCH to steve!!!! in fact, i was gonna say--

Bucky can’t get drunk.

He discovered that new, unsavory reality pretty early on, by leading quite a few misery-fueled experiments on his own, whenever war granted him the respite and the solitude to do so. Eventually, he had no choice but to accept that, try as he might, the pleasant buzz and the grief-dulling fumes would no longer be accessible to him.

But when Steve makes love to him like this, the intoxicating warmth spreading low in Bucky’s belly feels all too familiar.

When Steve lays him out on their softest sheets, like a feast to be savored one generous mouthful at a time. When Steve holds his gaze as he sinks between Bucky’s thighs, graceful as a cat and hungry as a wolf, pleasure dancing in his eyes as his lips wrap red and shiny around Bucky’s cock, and he holds it on his tongue as though it were cotton candy melting against the roof of his mouth.

When he spends long, honey-gold forevers working Bucky open with skilled fingers, chasing Bucky’s sweet spot over and over until it’s Bucky himself, breathless and mad with pleasure, who reaches down for him and tugs him up by the underarms, pulling Steve’s gorgeous weight on top of him; his hips cinched between Bucky’s legs, where they ought to have been a whole, torturous eternity ago.

When Steve gives in, and slides home with a shuddering gasp, his mouth slack and his eyes half-lidded, and his name rises from Bucky’s lips with the helpless pitch of ecstasy.

It feels just like that. Like he remembers it feeling the last time he got nice and tipsy, enough so that the world had started to blur around the edges. That simmering heat curling in his belly and reaching out to his limbs, pouring into every nook and cranny of him, singing in his arms, in his legs, pulsing in the tips of his fingers like a heartbeat. Burning him up from within like a fever; flushing his cheeks, welling up in his glossy eyes, filling up the back of his throat.

That time, the last time he remembers getting drunk, Steve was with him.

Of course he was, Bucky thinks senselessly, his back arching off the rumpled sheets. Of course, of course, of course he was there. How else would they have explored the world and all its countless facts, if not by testing them all together?

Steve’s eyes seek him, devouring him inch by inch. His nose and his gasping mouth, and the cleft of his chin. The sweat beading over Bucky’s brow, darkening his hair at his temples, teasing it into damp curls.

Consumed, is how Bucky feels; eaten to the white of his bones, stripped clean of every part, and yet more whole than he’s ever been before.

“Do you know,” Steve pants, one hand planted on the mattress by Bucky’s metal shoulder, the other skating down along Bucky’s flank, searching, needy. “Do you know what you are to me?”

He thrusts in, slow and deep and full of purpose, and Bucky loses himself to the feeling for a moment, blind and deaf to anything that isn’t the slick press of Steve’s cock filling him, satiating him for a few precious seconds only to leave him hungry and wanting again, over and over.

“Steve,” he moans, gripping Steve’s shoulders almost blindly, desperate to find an anchor in this sweet, raging storm. “Please, please–”

Steve’s hand slips under him, fingers splayed as wide as they’ll go, lifting Bucky’s hips off the bed to press him closer.

“You’re my whole world,” Steve rasps, his voice hoarse, tight with passion, like a muscle pulled taut. Bucky can’t help but look up at him, soak up the sight of him.

Steve, moving above him, lovely and beautiful beyond words. His mouth bitten red with kisses, the apples of his cheeks burning pink above the dirty gold of his beard, hot under Bucky’s touch. His broad shoulders, boxing Bucky in. The sheen of sweat gleaming on his skin, dancing with his every move, catching the morning light with the flitting of Steve’s muscles, all grace and subtle power.

Mine, says the pulp of Bucky’s heart, beating frantically in his chest. Mine, and he’d scream it proudly from each rooftop, climb to the top of the world and above to scream it joyfully to the heavens, so that even the stars would know.

“You’re my everything,” Steve breathes out, leaning down until their bodies are flush together; his heaving chest pressed to Bucky’s own, and Bucky’s cock trapped, snug and aching, between their bellies. “D’ya hear that, honey? My everything,” Steve says, eyes never leaving Bucky’s face.

Bucky nods, out of breath. His heart will stop here and now, he’s sure of it. Stop, or burst into a thousand white-hot sparks inside his ribcage, the measure of his love too big for any heart to contain.

Steve’s mouth grazes his own, soft and wet.

“Tell me,” he all but gasps against Bucky’s lips, and the leisurely rocking of his hips picks up a new rhythm, more urgent now. “Tell me what you are to me, Buck.”

It’s like a fire, blazing with bright, vibrant pleasure up Bucky’s spine, blinding him.

“I’m–”

They’re mouth to mouth, both parted; too slack to kiss, too desperate to stray any farther than that. The air is thick between them, damp with their hot breaths, and Bucky, Bucky’s not drunk, he knows now–

“Yours, I’m yours, your–”

–he’s in bliss, molten gold and sun-bright halo, gripped by an ecstasy that threatens to spill over with every stroke of Steve’s fevered cock inside him – that has him trembling at the notion of his own body, parting like soft butter for him, greedy for nothing but him.

“I’m your– your everything, your–”

And when it does spill over, pouring hotly between their bodies, and Steve’s whispering breathless praise against his lips, Bucky knows he wouldn’t need the kiss of alcohol even if he could get drunk, after all.

[stellarvoyage]

Find The Word Game

rules: i'll give you five words. find the word (or closest approximation you can) in your works and post an excerpt. tag others to play and give them new words too!

I was tagged by @runawaydragons with the words 'storm', 'dare', 'two', 'movement', and 'legend', and I'm (not very) sorry to say that I cheated. Instead of looking for specific words I searched for a theme or a feeling. Here goes:

Storm

The snowstorm surprised them with its intensity as the trekked over the open moor. A persistent sleet that turned to sharp snow as the wind increased, and soon they couldn’t see much of anything in the white landscape. They walked on in the direction of a distant treeline, last glimpsed before the snow turned everything a thick, impenetrable white. They knew they needed to find shelter before dark, but the landscape yielded nothing but snowy heather and long, rolling ridges. With visibility down to almost nothing they had to hold on to each other, and their pace slowed as dusk slowly crept in, turning everything a darkening bluish gray.

Dare

Zevran was still dealing with the shock of seeing Taliesen again and the unexpected plea he made for Zevran to return to him (because for Taliesen that cockily phrased offer was certainly a plea), taking quick stock of his surroundings and thinking very fast when the woman beside him spoke in answer, quite calmly, her voice barely raised. "Of course, I'd need to be dead, first." Zevran glanced at her, standing so straight and calm, only that slight vibrance he had learned to recognize telling him she was as tense as he, and found himself unable to speak for a moment at the thought of her crumpling from a dagger through the… No.  He raised his voice to carry over to the other assassin, still looking at her. "And I am not about to let that happen." He saw her nod gravely, her eyes dark and understanding, acknowledging the thing he did not -- could not -- voice.  Taliesen's mocking retort was a confirmation of sorts that he had made the right decision. Zevran was no longer the man that had left Antiva, and he had no wish to abandon the new life he had found. He turned back to face his old lover, to offer a farewell. "I am sorry, my old friend, but the answer is no. And you should have stayed in Antiva."

Two

It was very late, sometime in the hours between midnight and dawn. Even the younger Shadow Dragons had gone home or found a bed somewhere. Ashur and Tarquin lounged on the pillows in the back room waiting for the last Dragons return from a stakeout. It would probably be some time yet, and they should probably sleep, but neither of them had yet made a move in that direction. Traces of a late meal were spread around them, and Tarquins finished paperwork sat in a neat stack next to him. Ashur was learning to crochet (it was good to have something to do with his hands, he claimed) but had abandoned his latest project a while ago and now sat leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, shoulder to shoulder with Tarquin. They spoke occasionally, the words coming slower with the late hour. It was companionable, easy in the way that they could only be with each other at a time when (almost) all masks were off. Ashur still wore his veil, but the hat was off, as was his cloak and jacket. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, distracting Tarquin with the clean lines of his underarm, the shapeliness of his hands. Tarquin had a thing for hands, he did. (He also had a thing for Ashur, but he tried to ignore that. Admiring someone, as a person, and for their aesthetics, was one thing. Pining for them … that was not done. So. Ignoring it.)

Movement

How could a middle aged metal man be so good at yoga that he nailed just about every pose, even thhe ridiculously difficult ones? Galadriel didn’t understand it. She knew she was being petty and overly competitive, but it irked her that she wasn’t the best in class. And this introverted, quiet guy with long, black hair, and worn sweatpants and washed out band t-shirts just … outclassed her with his perfect form and seemingly effortless vinyasas.  How did he manage show up to 7 AM classes looking like he’d just stepped out of bed and pulled on a scrunchie, and still have better form than her? She, who usually excelled at every sport, and rarely needeed more than two tries to get a new move. She could not wrap her head around it. When she later complained to Elrond he just laughed at her. “I think this is good for you, Galadriel. You need to get out of your head a bit. Just ignore him and do your own work.”

Legend

(a long time ago in a galaxy far away) Healer padawan Surana and senior padawan Alistair (no last name!) were lucky to escape the planet alive, in the strangest (and most sentient) ship they had ever seen. Now they were trying to make their way back to Coruscant to report to the Council, and inform the Senate of the conflict’s escalation. Trying being the operative word here, since it felt like the Force itself worked against them, so many obstacles had they stumbled upon. First, the ship they escaped on had locked them out of the nav system and landed on the Korcari, Ostagar’s swampy and forested moon, and then promptly shut down, refusing to be powered up again. When they exited the ship they got locked out.  And while they had escaped the conflict itself, they certainly didn’t make much headway on their journey towards the core. In the end, they had to hire help from a strange woman, obviously force sensitive but maybe-probably not a darksider, who had a ratty little ship that while it couldn’t go either far or fast, it would take them to the nearest travel hub, a backwater trade post on the planet Lothering, where they (hopefully) would be able to find a new ride.

I'm voluntagging anyone who reads this, if you want to play. The words are: Cat, dog, horse, dragon, hedgehog.

Have fun!

[wreckingtickles]

Bakugo's Overdue Class 1-B Apologies (SFW)

A short sequel of this drabble.

When Shoji and Deku finally give Bakugo a breather, he just. Conks out.

They let him rest. Shoji's satisfied, and besides, he looks kind of angelic when he's not talking. Or yelling. Or awake.

But if Bakugo thought his nightmare was over...

Because Kirishima hasn't received his apology yet. And who does he call to help him cash it, if not his good friend from 1-B Tetsutetsu.

Yes, Class 1-B is now a part of this as well.

Bakugo wakes up in pretty much the same predicament as before, with the two knuckleheads at either side of him.

They pretend they're praising his growth and muscle definition, but really, they're just tickling the shit out of his upperbody: pecs, abs, other muscles that give them an excuse to just make Bakugo lose his mind first thing in the morning.

They both reflexively target their own worst spots first: Kiri goes for his armpits and Tetsu for his chest.

Anyone other than Bakugo would find it comical how they sometimes reach for the same spot at the same time, getting in each other's way.

Instead of doing top-bottom half like the others, Kiri takes the left side and Tetsu the right, so at one point they're both digging into Bakugo's pits and ribcage at the same time.

Yeah, he loses his mind.

If the night's rest regenerated his stubborness, he's quickly breaking again.

Naturally he apologizes, but Kiri doesn't really care, he's just giving his bro a workout.

That may be why he breaks out his Quirk and his claws on Bakugo's armpits are just torture.

And Tetsu lets him take care of that spot while he works the rest of Bakugo's upperbody over.

If anyone thought Kirishima would be nice to him... no, he's really enjoying pushing him to his limit, making it an "extended training session".

They only stop when it's clear that Bakugo's stamina has been depleted. But this is far from over.

Kirishima actually prevents anyone from entering the room to give Baku a breather.

When he resumes cursing at everyone (he really doesn't know what's best for him), Kiri lets the next batch in.

It's a friggin' trio: Tsuburaba, Kaibara, and Shinsou.

Now, Shinso may have brainwashed the former two, but I don't think he needed to.

And they come in with a plan, for they have consulted with Deku.

Shinso goes for one of his own worst spots: Bakugo's feet. Kaibara takes his ribcage. Tsuburaba takes everywhere else, skipping from spot to stop, starting at his abs but eventually settling on alternating his underarms and thighs.

Now, when his classmates paired up on him, their Quirks made it feel like there were more than two people wrecking him.

But one of the three people currently intent on breaking him has a devastating Quirk of his own: Kaibara's spinning fingers.

And once they hone in on Bakugo's ribs, it's over. GG Bakugo.

Granted, it's not as bad as Shoji + Deku (nothing will ever be as terrible), but it's an extremely effective Quirk in his death spot, and the other two are going after his other worst spots.

Oh, and did I mention that Kirishima's turn has left him super sweaty, so he's that much more sensitive?

Fortunately for him, this group isn't as into making him pay as some others, so excruciating though it is, it doesn't last too long. In part because everyone is getting hungry.

So everyone leaves to have lunch, but before they do, Awase uses his Quirk to attach electric toothbrushes to every single one of Bakugo's most sensitive spots. He'll get a break if the batteries run out before they're back.

So they just leave Bakugo like that, enjoying a loooong lunch.

Now, everyone is actually for cutting Bakugo loose at this point, but one person protests: he hasn't gotten his turn yet.

When Bakugo sees Monoma darken Kirishima's doorway, he goes straight to apologizing, he just can't take anymore.

Too bad Monoma only wants to see him suffer, and the fact that he's already broken makes it even more fun for him.

Naturally, he's borrowed Deku's notebook so he can reference it at any time. And guess what 3 Quirks he's also borrowed? The obvious ones: Kaibara's, Tokoyami's, and Kaminari's. And he tells Bakugo before he proceeds to make him cry for well over an hour.

Bakugo is voiceless by the end of it, he can't even struggle anymore. And while he will eventually begin to plot revenge, he will be a lot nicer to everyone in the meanwhile.

[ma11goth]

first meetings meme. a meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a what you will notice about my muse first cheat sheet. bold what applies. fill in details. blank meme:  ( x )

general appearance.

sex: masculine. feminine. non-binary. race: white. (swedish and italian) complexion: fair, pale with cool tones. he burns easily. his skin is dotted with many freckles, beauty marks, and moles. (these are most noticeably seen on his chin, neck, shoulders and back at first glance) height: six foot. (6'0" / 182.88 cm.) body type: endomorph. mesomorph. ectomorph. body build: small. medium. athletic. muscular. soft. curvy. voluptuous. other / more details: lanky, slightly underweight and his height makes him appear more so. long, dangly, spidery arms and legs. he grows into some more muscle as he gets older, but not much. body hair: none. shaves / waxes. trims / grooms. untamed. color: his arm, leg, and facial hair are all very light and reflect his natural hair color. underarms and nether regions are a few shades darker, while his eyelashes and eyebrows are naturally a dark brown. notes: given the light shades, what little there is of his arm and leg hair is for the most part barely visible unless someone is in close proximity and thoroughly examining his skin. even in older verses, ian keeps his facial hair clean shaven except for the occasional stubble. head hair: none. buzzed. short. medium. long. very long. color: naturally a light honey blond that would change color with the season until high school, now almost constantly dyed black with a blue stripe. he resorts to a deep dark brown in his late twenties and onward. but as he ages, the blond beneath begins to naturally darken over time and he doesn't worry about it as often. style: kept relatively short, and he prefers it that way. thick, full. his hair has a natural curl to it that even the gel he likes to style it with can't hide, there's almost always a few loose curls fallen over his forehead. eye color: deep blue.

fashion.

fashion style: vintage. traditional. casual. artsy. vibrant. geeky / nerdy. tomboy. sporty. trendy. preppy. girly. bohemian. elegant. formal. grunge. punk. rocker. gothic. other: a mix of typical 2000s older brother (baggy jeans, layered t-shirts with a long sleeve shirt underneath, skater shoes) and typical 2000s mall goth (baggy tripp pants / shorts, oversized band tees, layered mesh shirts, doc martens or dirty combat boots with the laces coming undone). he's a big fan of accessories and silver jewelry. pendent necklaces, rings, studs and spikes, those black jelly bracelets that can be stacked and looped and apparently mean that you've fucked. a full rundown can be found here. color palette: black is his primary color and almost completely takes over his wardrobe. the only items that will vary in color are his t-shirts and boxers - with dark shades of gray, red, and the occasional white or blue. everything else (from socks, shoes, etc.) are black. piercings: three in left ear (two helix, standard lobe), two in right ear (helix and standard lobe). standard labret under his lower lip, standard tongue. he's still currently on the fence about an eyebrow and prince albert. tattoos: not until his early/mid twenties, where he starts getting ink on both arms, chest and back. example. example.

expression.

general facial expression: resting bitch face. if he looks mean, it's partially because he wants to, and partially because he can't help it. it's like he was born with permanent furrowed brows and a scowl. but generally, he can't hide his emotions on his face, and you'll know how he's feeling. default body language:  lazy. he's often crossing his arms, leaning against things. it's almost awkward even when he's comfortable.

other.

presence: some find his aura to be very mean and intimidating at first, which is very intentional on his part. but depending on the person, some may immediately see through the act. there's a very warm heart underneath it. appearance: he is very sure of his sense of style and how he presents himself, and actually puts great thought into it. he knows what he likes when it comes to his appearance, even if it isn't what most people are into, and he really doesn't care. scent: menthol cigarettes, weed, whatever shampoo was in his line of sight at the store, axe body wash. occasionally the deodorant and/or body spray of whoever he spent the night with when he didn't have time to shower. he doesn't realize how "girly" it is until it's too late. voice description: somewhat deep when he isn't whining. it deepens more as he gets older, paired with smoking. kind of gruff, nasally, generally takes his time when he speaks. higher pitched when he's really upset or pissed off, which in turn makes him talk faster. example. speech mannerisms: lazy, sometimes his words slur together. he uses many contractions and slang. not very formal while speaking and he loves to swear like a sailor. commonly drops the 'g' from the ends of many words unless he's really trying to emphasize something.

[awkwardlyflustered]

This or That

Tickletober Day 4: Weak Spot

Fandom: Now You See Me

A/N: Alright, it’s been a few days since I’ve done this purely because I realized I was writing off of the wrong year a little too late for my liking, but regardless, we persevere. So now, without further ado, I present my first (methinks?) fic for a fandom I’ve wanted to write for quite some time: Now You See Me. I’m a s l u t for my silly little magic people and now they will be wrecked because I say so. Enjoy!

“Fuck. You.”

“You literally just have to pick, it’s not that hard.”

“Yes it is. You’ve given me two ridiculous choices.”

“Hey, this is the most control you’re about to have for the next twenty minutes, give or take. So I suggest you take advantage of it.” Daniel just glared up at Jack, finally conceding to his little game. 

“Fine, but this is childish and stupid. I hope you know that,” he snarked at the younger man. Jack just smiled a little wider at this remark, delighted in the fact that he was making someone so composed relent to such a silly game. 

“Oh trust me I know, that’s half the fun,” he paused to let Atlas roll his eyes before continuing, “So what’ll it be? Twenty minutes on your sides, tummy, and hips. Or just five minutes on your… weak spot, let’s call it.” Daniel jumped at the quick poke he received to his underarms. The redness on his face just continued to rise and get darker and darker. He sat, sputtering, not even able to begin to think of an answer to such an impossible question. On one hand, twenty minutes is a long, long time when having to put up with such torture. But on the other hand, he didn’t know if he’d even be able to handle his underarms getting tickled at all, much less for five minutes. 

“Well? Which is it?” Wilde interrupted his thoughts, impatiently tapping his fingers along Daniel’s ribs. The curly haired man twitched with each tap, trying to squirm away from the offending fingers.

“Ah! St-stahahp,” he whined out, already starting to giggle, even from just the small pokes. 

“Alright, alright. But you need to give me an answer before I choose for you,” Jack threatened.

“Fine, fine, fine,” Daniel rushed out before Jack could do anything else. He quietly mumbled out his answer, his face once again darkening to a deep shade of crimson.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You’re going to have to speak up, that is, unless you just want me to choose?” he warned again, slowly crawling his fingers up the magician's ribs, getting closer and closer to his death spot. 

“NO,” Daniel screamed out, pulling on his arms that got pinned above his head at some point earlier, “TWENTY MINUTES! I CHOSE TWENTY MINUTES, JUST DON’T TICKLE MY ARMPITS!” Jack just smirked, happy to have finally won something over Daniel and set right to work. 

Before there could be anymore whining, pleading, or begging, there were fingers crawling all along his ribs, buzzing into his stomach, and squeezing at his hips. 

“Nohohohoh Jahahahack!”

“Hey don’t come whining to me now, you chose this.” Daniel just squeezed his eyes shut and kicked his legs out as ticklish little shocks shot up from his hips. 

“Plehehehease!”  Jack didn’t even bother in responding this time, simply relishing in the sweet giggles flooding his ears. He danced his fingers across Daniel’s tight stomach, occasionally pinching at his sides, taking more and more triumph with every cackle and squeal. 

Daniel couldn’t do anything besides lie there and take it. Every noise that came out of him made him blush deeper and deeper. His face looked like it was one shade away from exploding. 

“Hmm, you know, I want to try something,” Jack narrated as he rolled Daniel’s shirt up. Daniel didn’t even bother asking what was about to happen, just laid there happy to have a break to catch his breath. 

Slowly, Jack began lowering his head towards Daniel’s tummy. Daniel sat trying to scooch away from the impending doom. He sucked his stomach in as far as it would go, kicked his legs out as much as possible trying to do anything to deter this tickly attack. 

Lower and lower, his head dipped down so infuriatingly slow. He knew what was coming, he knew it was going to make him howl. He knew everything that was about to happen. The most infuriating part of it all? He couldn’t keep this damn smile off of his face. 

Lower and lower, he kicked, he squirmed, and still Jack just kept getting closer and closer. The lower he got, the more Daniel’s smile grew. Just an inch away from his sensitive tummy and he started giggling. The anticipation finally got to him, he couldn’t help it. Daniel let out this adorable little string of giggles, unable to keep them from tumbling out of his mouth. His face lit up worse than ever before. He couldn’t believe he was giggling, much less before even getting tickled. How utterly ridi-

His line of thought was promptly cut off but the shriek preceding the screechy laughs that came out of him as Jack finally made it to his tummy and began blowing raspberries. 

“JAHAHAHACK STAHAHAHAP!” Again, there was no response from Jack, he just continued peppering the older man’s stomach with raspberries. Daniel kicked and screamed with laughter, so desperately trying to get away from them. 

Jack could really only keep up this new method of “torture” as Daniel called it, for a few minutes before Daniel went silent. As soon as he did, Jack sat up, not letting Daniel go yet, but at least letting him catch his breath. 

“Are… you… done yet?” Daniel panted out, more than happy to have Jack’s face away from his stomach. 

“Well… it has been twenty minutes,” Jack began with the most shit eating grin Daniel had ever seen on that kid’s face, “Buuuuut, there’s just one more thing I want to do.” Daniel just concedes, not having it in him to fight the energetic little shit any longer. 

“Fine, but this it the last thing. Got it?” Jack just nods eagerly before diving into Daniel’s under arms. The noise that came out of Daniel, Jack could confidently say he had never heard before. And he was absolutely delighted to have been the person to cause it to come out of him. He smiled, enjoying himself far too much while Daniel thrashed and howled underneath him. 

He shrieked with laughter, tears already forming at the corners of his eyes. Laughing too hard to even form words, much less coherent ones. 

“Damn this really is your weak spot. I bet I could make you do anything, huh?” Daniel just desperately shook his head, having gone silent long ago. “Don’t worry, I’m not that mean,” Jack reassured, as he slowed himself to a stop. Daniel let the residual giggles pass while he laid there panting. 

“This was fun, let’s do it again some time?” Jack giggled like a little kid as he got up and ran away as fast as he could. He was a little more scared of Daniel than he’d ever care to admit, and had absolutely no interest in finding out the real hell that man could wreck any time soon. 

Once he recovered well enough, Daniel just sat up and chuckled. He’d get the little shit back sooner or later, but for now he was just gonna cherish the leftover smile still stuck on his face. 

[malumxsubest]

FIRST MEETINGS MEME

A meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a ‘What you will notice about my muse first’ cheat sheet. Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Fill in details.  blank meme & credit: x

Sex: Masculine. Feminine. Non-Binary. Notes: despite being a genderless entity, amelia ( void ) prefers a feminine physique and pronouns.

Species: cosmic primordial deity - void

Complexion: fair with neutral undertone.

Height: five foot. ( 5'0" ; 152.4 cm )

Body Type: Endomorph. Mesomorph. Ectomorph. Other / More Details: she has a slight romantic body type despite being slender. has child-bearing hips. click here for an example.

Body Build: Small. Medium. Athletic. Muscular. Soft. Curvy. Voluptuous. Other / More Details: she is petite. however she has long legs and a bit of a short torso.

Body Hair: None. Shaves/Waxes. Trims/Grooms. Untamed.

Color: the curtain certainly does not match the drapes. the hair down there is like a reddish-brown along with her eyebrows. however her eyelashes are black. Notes: she does not have underarm hair or hair on her arms, legs and body. but she does have hair on the pubic area. cleanly shaven and/or waxed -- depending how she feels on the day. HOWEVER, she is not put off by body hair or pelvic hair. she considers them natural occurrences. for herself, though, she prefers to be well-maintained.

Head Hair: None. Buzzed. Short. Medium. Long. Very Long. Asymmetrical Cut.

Color: deep red wine colour; cabernet sovereign is the closest semblance.

Style: she typically has it down because she adores the length which reaches to her knees. since her hair is thick, she has it layered and curled to accentuate the curly-wavy hair she has.

Eye color: emerald Details: her eye colour can differ depending how she's feeling. if she's relaxed, her eyes are typically a shade of dark emerald green with faint speckles of lighter shades of green and a HINT of red flakes. if she's irritated, they are eerily brighter to a jade shade. however, if she's looking at something that she's attracted to ( romantically & sexually ), they darkened into a forest green. [ additionally, when she's in a state of immense hunger and/or anger, the scleras are black and her irises are a deep red colour; pupils can disappear completely or are black. but when her body is on the brink of shutting down or in extreme stress as she uses her abilities extensively, they are completely black with black veins cracking around her eyes and along the temples and downward to her cheeks. furthermore, on rare occasions, she'll reveal her void eyes; cosmic burning embers and glowing white pupils. ]

Scars: See Other Information below ( FASHION ). she does have another scar ( two if i want to be technical ), right between her breasts where she had taken a stake straight through and it punctured all the way out her back where there's another scar. these are the scars she cannot get rid of.

FASHION

Fashion Style: Vintage. Traditional. Casual. Artsy. Vibrant. Geeky/Nerdy. Tomboy. Sporty. Trendy. Preppy. Girly. Bohemian. Elegant. Formal. Grunge. Punk. Rocker. Gothic. Other: amelia finds herself leaning more to dark aesthetics and dark & elegant couture. she's deeply fond of the goth and metal community. from the romantic to edwardian goth then to over sized band shirts and leather jackets with unique black boots or heels; either custom made or high-quality made. although, she prefers to wear horror t-shirts and band shirts in the privacy in her own home after being stripped from her tight-fitted clothing. either way, she loves dark aesthetic no matter what. OH, let's not forget she also loves to wear pieces of latex in her wardrobe/outfits. whether it's dress, chokers, pants. latex is a wonderful piece to utilize in her wardrobes.

Color Palette: black is primarily the main colour for her wardrobe. but she loves deep reds & greens. even her undergarments are black and dark shades of reds.

Piercings: cute little vampire fangs piercings on her nipples. and she has several piercings on each ear. a couple ranging from 20 to 16 gauge.

Tattoos: some tattoos, but she has her sons’ names on the inside of her right wrist. runes symbols and spells scattered around her body. (i will make a psd/post about her tattoos and piercings at a later time. )

Other Information: has two scar lines across the bridge of her nose; one connecting from one apple of the cheek to the other whereas the second (2nd) one is a bit shorter (1/4" - 1/2" shorter in length); the scar fairly raised on the skin -- seemed self-inflicted.

EXPRESSION

General Facial Expression: typically a neutral expression; or a resting bitch face/deadpanned. but will also have TINY smirk on her face some of the time.

Default Body Language: closed off with arms closest to her whether at her sides or crossed over her chest. when she's sitting, she sits with regality. if she's bored, she will tilt her head to one side with a slight narrow eyes. it depends on how she feels, honestly. it changes. however, usually she is closed off.

General Movements: as she walks, she walks with purpose. as if she's prowling, hunting in the night and searching for her next prey. she exudes confidence and refined elegance.

NOTABLE FOR RP

Presence: it depends how she feels, honestly. though, in general, people would assume she's unimposing due to her short stature. but she is intimidating because of the way she carries herself with confidence and elegance. akin to someone of royal status. she's cold, indifferent with a stare that would pin one down if she notices someone. it can be quite stifling in a way, with the way she carries herself. it's like she wants to devour anyone that comes in contact with her. her eyes are almost always half-lidded like she's has a look of pure disdain for someone despite being short. but if she tolerates someone or loves them, she lowers her guard a bit and becomes a bit more affectionate.

Appearance: she is well-kept, tidy. despite being in her dark, alternative attire that consists of metal accents like chains and spikes, her entire appearance is clearly well maintained. her makeup could be considered as work-place goth with minimal exaggerated contouring. just simple smokey black-red eyeshadow, black lined eyes, trimmed & shaped brows and with whatever lip colour she desired that particular day. however, when she's out and about and NOT at work, she dresses to the nines with whatever she's feeling that day. it could be an attire of latex with velvet or chains and buckles, spikes, etc. just overall, she's a tidy person.

Scent: amelia emits a concoction of a scent that lingers and captures the air she's in. it's an haunting amalgamation of a cosmic allure, drenched in iron with the amount of blood she ingests. if you're near her, her mysterious scent devours your senses and self with the way it clings to someone. it seems forbidden, inhuman and otherworldly. it's too unique to pinpoint the smell exactly. it's like it's a whisper of an ancient era that long since passed from eons ago. it's suffocating yet has such an intoxicating allure. it's both enticing and unsettling just like her persona because she's not what she seems. it is similar to a pareidolia or the uncanny valley with the way she seems human and sounds human. of course, her scent would emphasize her character. it leaves a mark in the back of your mind, slowly consuming you just like the creature she is. she's sweet, yet tart like black cherries but with a hint of something floral like black parrot tulips.

Voice Description: she has an elegant, sophisticated tone that takes on a darker, seductive quality. she sounds playful. has that sensuality, alluring touch. it can be quite melodic as she speaks with different pitches and elongated vowels and tones. and it has a hint of smokiness around the edges of certain words. example, click here.

Accent: yes / no More information: she didn't have an accent in the very beginning. she could only mimic the words from the tribesmen that "raised" her. she seemed detached from the world and the language around her. it's uncanny where it would raise the hairs on someone's skin. despite not having a human accent, amelia developed a combination of tsakonian/doric greek & received pronunciation english accents.

Speech Mannerisms: since she has a dual accent, sometimes her rp dialect is more pronounced in certain words such as long 'a' for day or short 'i' in sit or a soft 's' in measure. additionally, in rp, she aspirates the 'th's in words like think. whereas her tsakonian/doric accent, her 'o's are rounded more so as an 'oh'. for the letter gamma ( or 'y' ), it comes out more as a 'ch' in a guttural sort of way like 'ch' of the german word bach. her speech will flow in a melodic yet expressive way where it rises and falls in certain pitches and tones with her doric accent but her rp helps when it comes to enunciating and emphasizing in a clear, refined manner. for example, she will place some stress emphasis words for distinctive accentuation like detail pronounced as de-TAIL for rp. in taskonian/doric accent, she will add stresses on the next-to-last syllables like philosophy as phi-LOS-o-phy. and when she gets excited or angry, she speaks faster and hissing her words.

[riptozier]

@gazebobullshit said: ❝ okay, okay, i'll do anything, just please stop tickling me ... ! ❞ ( can’t pass up canon ticklish!eddie u.u )

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✘ . *. ⋆ OH EDDIE, poor , unfortunate eddie. this obviously was all richie's doing , playing halloween a bit too late and attempting to scare the other , retaliating with tickles when he tried to fight back. it was gentle and playful banter at first , but it evolved to a full-scale tickle attack eventually , richie managing to get the smaller man PINNED against the couch before going straight for the weak spots on eddie's sides and underarms.

even as their laughter harmonized in the air chilled by frost and the scent of fresh balsam and sugar cookies , richie began to feel his heart throbbing in his chest , an almost melancholic feeling of nostalgia washing over him in waves. seeing eddie like this , all undone underneath him , deep dimples traced into his cheeks as his lips were stretched in an endless smile , extenuating the wrinkles under his eyes as he laughed helplessly under richie's touch ... it brought him back to their CHILDHOOD. he remembered how he would do the same thing to a much younger version of eddie , how his eyes would crinkle up and his cheeks would darken in a blush the same way. clearly , that wasn't the only thing that stayed the same , for it came with a joyous realization that eddie was just as ticklish now as he was then.

❝ really? anything? ❞ it usually went like this , richie's tickle victims needing to beg their way out of the torture , anything for the bespectacled man to feel like he either knocked them down a peg or pushed himself up a few. but it sounded intriguing , an offer settling itself in his brain , making him FLUSH darkly and wanting it to go away but to no avail. he hooked his fingers against the other's ribs , letting him know that he was still in control , reminding him of what he was capable of if he tried any funny business or to get away. ❝ could you ... gimme a kiss? ❞

PROMPTS FOR MUSES WHO ARE LITTLE SHITS™ .