#Keep it Strange Santo

[electronictheoristactivist]

[delfts-purple]

Santo llesonians can't drive 7/? - El misil 🚀

[lastoneoutofsantoileso]

Hi! I'm a recently returned veteran RPer looking for new friends and RP opportunities! I have 10 years of RP experience on tumblr and elsewhere!

Both mun and muse are over 18.

Please feel free to dm any inquiries!

Thank you for your time!

[swan2swan]

Brooklynn making a joke about her limb difference and Soyona showing disapproval of this woman's possible self-deprecation (a split second before realizing that she's actually going to have to murder her) is incredible stuff, actually.

[mystrangesanto]

Feels right to start this way. Welcome to the blog!

[blond3ang3l]

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you’ve watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn’t know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

…and his dick very hard

“I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!”

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn’t bring you. Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. The way your thick thighs filled them out compared to his own, he couldn’t resist grabbing them. Grabbing them led to groping them, which lead to him sneaking his hands under the boxers you wore that just so happened to be his. This caught you off guard and stopped your sudden rant with a small gasp. He chuckled and slipped two fingers in his mouth covering them in his saliva before slipping them back under the underwear.

“Cmon baby, keeping telling me about the little videos.”

He had to have been joking. No way was he just gonna pretend he wasn’t teasing you. Like his finger wasn’t circling around your aching hole.

“Go on I’m waiting baby. Keeping telling me bout what you learned.”

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you knew it would get you no where. This wasn’t a new thing, eren was always so needy. It was always worse after a tour. Even if it had only been a relatively short one.

“Okay well like I was saying, erotomania is something that a lot of celebrity stalkers have. Especially kpop ones. It’s when someone genuinely believes they’re in a relationship with a celebrity. Remember that girl that literally would follow you to the airport? That crazy bitch probably had it.”

Eren couldn’t help but bite his lip as he listened to you go on. God you looked so fucking good. Your hair looked so good. He was so glad he got you your own personal stylist so you never had to worry about needing to go to a shop or someone else’s house. You smelled so good too. That vanilla body oil you used was just fucking irresistible. He didn’t know whether he liked that one or the strawberry poundcake one more. Either way it only made him want you more.

He slowly slid a finger inside you, watching your face contort as you tried to keep your composure. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat. He missed seeing your face. Facetime wasn’t enough. Having to sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off to pictures and homemade pornos wasn’t enough for him. He needed to see you. To feel you. He slid his free hand up your shirt, groping your chest as he thrusted finger in out and of you.

“R-ren, fuck. Cmon baby, how am i supposed to talk while you’re doing this.”

Your whines only made eren smile as he thrusted a second finger inside you. He watched you as you threw your head back while crying out. He was enjoying every second of teasing you. You were so impatient and he knew it. That’s why he catered to every need you had. You hated having to wait and tended to be bratty when you did. So he made everything about you. Whatever you wanted you had. But this time he needed to be selfish. He wanted to watch you come undone first. And that’s exactly what we’re doing.

Your tight grip on his shoulders told him everything. Your nails were digging deep into his skin as you pushed back against his fingers. You didn’t want to admit it but you missed Ren so much. Your fingers and toys didn’t compare to what he could do. How he could prolong your orgasm by teasing you. He could feel you leaking all over his thigh, his boxers now all sticky along with his thigh. He slowly slid his fingers out of you causing you whine.

He didn’t feel bad at all. It was about him this time. He gripped your hips dragging you along his thigh, making it even more of a mess. You hid your face out of embarrassment. It was too much at how he could make you a whiny mess. No other man could do this to you but him.

You couldn’t help the small noises that fell past your lips as you grinded against his thigh. Eren shivered feeling your warm breath against the side of his neck. The way you tugged at his hair he knew you were close. He could read your body like a damn book.

“Cmon baby, almost there. Let me see you.”

“F-fuck ren, I cant.”

Eren wasn’t having that at all. You couldn’t what? You were gonna disobey him? No chance in hell. He gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him

“You telling me no baby? I could have sworn I said I wanted to see your face. I’ve been gone for a long time and you think your whining is gonna stop me?”

You loved moment like this when Eren suddenly got serious. He was…well he was very off Standish which came off to mean as others. But he babied you. The moment you told him no thought after he told you to do something? It was like a switch flipped in him. His tight grip on your face was only turning you on more which made you rut against his leg faster.

“You’re gonna be good aren’t you baby? Gonna cum for me like a good little whore?”

You eagerly nodded as you bit your lip. You could only cry out his name as you came all over his thigh, making a mess in his boxers. Eren kept his grip on your face to make sure you maintained eye contact the entire time. A smirk creeping on his face as you came.

“There you go baby, let’s go get you cleaned up..”

———————————————————————

@merakidoll Eren fic just like I promised🫶🏽

———————————————————————

Based of a conversation with my boyfriend where I literally was going on about mental illness during my rant about the many video essays I watch

[thedinosapien]

Theory: Brooklynn talked to N5 before leaving

The finale leaves many things implied or even confusing – in a way that makes it seem like something happened, especially between the scenes where Ben warns Brooklynn about the Bumpy's egg in the suitcase and the scene where B leaves. I invite you to rewatch the final scene, so it will be easier to understand what I say:

It is implied that Brooklynn had a conversation with the Nublar 5 off-screen, hidden from the viewer. The implications of the scene:

Ben is the one who talks about Bumpy's egg, so he obviously put himself in front of his friends. In the next scene, we see the position of each of the boys and girls: in front, Ben (who talked about the egg in the case), behind him, Darius and lastly, Kenji, then we have Sammy in ahead of Yasmina. Keep Brooklynn's reaction finding out about the egg in mind, I'll talk about it later.

Although Ben asks for the egg, the one who has it in his hands in the last scenes is Kenji. It's not Ben, who loves Bumpy more than anyone, or Darius, who is Brooklynn's best friend. She decided to give the egg to Kenji, proving that:

A. Maybe she trusts him more than Ben or Darius (understandable, since Pincus didn't do what she asked and D left her with the Allo, but it would be a bit strange for the scene, don't you agree? After all, Ben is Bumpy's dad);

B. There was more to the scene than what is revealed to the viewer. A conversation, probably.

The only one Brooklynn hadn't seen before in the season was Kenji, so she didn't know about the affection he has for the baby in the shell, that is, she had no reason to choose him, again indicating that there was an exchange of words between the characters.

There is two hypothesis about what must happened:

• Before giving the egg to Ben, he (Kenji) interrupted and demanded to receive it in Ben's place. It would be strange, since one way or another they would already have the egg in hands – in very safe hands –, changing only the fact that it would be with Ben Pincus;

• Or better, Brooklynn took advantage of the great opportunity she had to give essential explanations for the third season: Santos would kill them if she noticed any sign of betrayal on B's part, but with only one egg missing and the promise that none of her "ex-friends" would get in the way of the plan, everything would be safer for Santos. B just had to take advantage of the small gap to tell her friends WHAT she was doing, WHERE she was going and WHY she was going there – remember, the others don't know anything about Sayona's plans. Those informations will be essential for the characters!

It makes sense, doesn't it? After all, part of the arc of Kenji's relationship with the others is that "nobody tells me anything". Having him as the center of the scene, being, somehow, the priority of information, implies a development in his arc and a future advancement in the others' as well.

Note, in the beginning, Kon was the last, but in the end he is the one who is the most ahead of his friends. There really was something.

Now, the final detail that is totally related to Brooklynn's reaction to the egg: Throughout the season she never knew that Bumpy would have a baby. Her reaction reveals that she realized she lost a lot. It's exactly what Earnest said: "You're nothing special [...]. You're never happy with the good thing you've got, right in front of you." This reinforces that Brooklynn's story is about enjoying the things she already has, what she loses with her obsession and what she also has to gain from it. She needs to balance a lot of things in order to finally understand, by herself, what the truly wants and needs.

——————

A stupid theory I posted on reddit and thought it would be nice to post here. Tumblr must be more active, so activity ≃ interaction + addiction/correction for the theory.

I should stop thinking too much abt this show

If it turn out to be totally wrong, I hope you guys don't remember my post lol

[whereslynx]

[PART 2] Sad Eye meets his match.

a/n: as per request, here’s part 2 :)

part 1 <—

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the tension of the Santos party, you thought you’d have some peace. But there he was—Sad Eyes—leaning casually against the shelves of fresh produce, radiating that cocky energy you hadn’t expected to encounter again so soon. The grocery store was bustling with life, and the air smelled of ripe fruits and fresh herbs. You maneuvered your cart down the aisle, concentrating on selecting ripe avocados, determined not to let him distract you.

“Well, if it isn’t ‘Not your business.’” Sad Eye chuckled lowly, “What? You don’t wanna fuck with a Santo?” he asked, his voice smooth and playful as he trailed behind you, matching your pace with an effortless swagger. He had an easy confidence, his casual lean and relaxed demeanor making it clear he was comfortable in any setting.

“Keep dreaming, Sad Eyes,” you replied, glancing at him with a smirk, trying to suppress a grin. “I’m just here for groceries, not drama.” Your heart raced a little; there was something undeniably magnetic about him.

“Groceries? Boring. How about you let me spice things up?” He stepped closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you. “I can show you a wild side of Freeridge you’ve never seen before.” The challenge in his voice was laced with charm, and you could feel the spark of intrigue igniting.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing an avocado, its smooth skin cool against your palm. “And what, exactly, does that involve? Shopping cart races?”

“Only if I get to win,” he replied, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. “But seriously, you’re gonna let a Santo like me walk away without at least a name?”

“Not my first rodeo, but sure, I’m all ears,” you shot back, the sass flowing effortlessly as you turned to face him, leaning casually against the cart.

He leaned against the shelf, a playful glint in his eyes that contrasted sharply with his tough persona. “Come on, you really don’t want to mess with a Santo like me. I’m dangerous in all the right ways.”

“Dangerous? Is that what you call it?” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you resumed your shopping, picking out a few ripe tomatoes. “You’re more like a playful puppy trying to act tough.” You could feel the playful banter between you crackling like electricity, and it was hard to ignore the flutter in your stomach as you glanced back at him, catching that amused expression on his face.

“Yeah? Well, what if I am?” he retorted, a hint of mischief flickering in his eyes. “You’d be surprised how much trouble I can cause.” His smirk was cocky, but there was an edge to it that suggested he was only half-joking.

You grabbed a box of cereal from the shelf, amusement bubbling beneath your surface. “You think you can intimidate me with your tough-guy routine? Nice try.” The bright colors of the cereal box reflected your playful mood.

“Challenge accepted,” he said, effortlessly matching your stride as you moved toward the dairy section. “But hey, I can be a gentleman too. How about I treat you to something cold after this?” He leaned closer, his casual demeanor mingling with an unexpected seriousness that made your pulse quicken.

You considered it for a moment, feeling a mix of intrigue and amusement. “Only if it’s ice cream,” you said, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

“Deal,” he replied, his grin widening, confidence radiating from him as you both made your way to the checkout.

As you unloaded your cart, the soft clinks of your groceries hitting the conveyor belt filled the air. You glanced over at him, catching him pulling out his wallet. “Wait, hold on. You’re not paying for my stuff,” you said, eyebrows raised and crossing your arms defiantly. “I can handle my own groceries.”

The cashier paused, watching the exchange with a bemused expression while you felt a rush of annoyance mixed with a strange thrill.

“Too late,” he said with a cocky grin, handing his card to the cashier. The card gleamed in his hand, a symbol of his confidence. “Just think of it as a down payment for that ice cream.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine, but only if you promise not to make this a habit,” you relented, your amusement bubbling to the surface.

“Y/N.” You eventually said, watching the cashier bag the groceries. Sad Eyes looked up at you, his brows raised in curiosity, “Hm?” he hummed in response.

“My name is Y/N.” You muttered, slightly in disbelief that you’re actually letting your walls down for him. But the way Sad Eyes’ face lit up, a childish grin plastered onto his face as if it was one of the biggest accomplishments of his life—maybe it was worth it.

“Sad Eyes,” he replied, bowing slightly with exaggerated flair. “That ice-cream store ‘round the corner ain’t gon’ buy itself. Let’s bounce.” He said, grabbing your groceries for you and already heading out.

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you followed him out of the store, feeling a spark of excitement.

As you both strolled down the street, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and playful banter. The air was warm, and the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Freeridge. There was an undeniable chemistry between you and Sad Eyes, an unexpected connection that felt both thrilling and refreshing. As you approached the ice cream shop, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something interesting. With every shared laugh, you found yourself curious to see where this new dynamic would lead.

[jwcc-confessions]

With the whole introduction of a vegetarian character the only thing I can say is that I’m just surprised Sammy’s (as far as the canon says) is the only one in the group who doesn’t eat meat.

I get that Brooklynn eating beef was the set up for Santos’ mentioning that her neighbor was vegetarian, which foreshadowed Sammy’s vegetarianism but you would think the girl who exposes corruption in businesses and politics would be vegan, considering all the really, really messed up animal and human worker abuse in the industry. And not to mention she was labeled an environmentalist in the casting call, but she still eats meat despite the environmental damage.

And then there’s Yasmina, and out of all them, it’s so strange that she’s not the one who went vegetarian considering how badly trauma of almost being eaten dozens of times affected her. Like, where’s the awareness that she’s in engaging in the one thing she’s been deeply, deeply traumatized by?

And even then, assuming she knows Sammy is vegetarian how has that connection not been made? (But at the same I’m wondering if she even knows Sammy’s vegetarian, because the oyster scene comes across to me as Zayna learning that she is, even though she should’ve already known since they stayed with them and had meals, unless Sammy is keeping it to herself as much as possible.)

Kenji, Ben and Darius are a flip for me, I can see them making the choice because they’ve literally laid down their lives to protect dinosaurs, eating plants is nothing compared to what they’ve done, but it depends solely on whether or not they have any knowledge of the industry (since most people assume farm animals are treated relatively well for their situation and die a quick, painless death) and/or can connect the dots.

There's a lot of people who love animals, are activists, etc but doesn't necessarily stop eating meat because of it. Lots of different reasoning and nuance to it. I guess from a story telling perspective they just decided that Sammy becoming a veggie would lead to the most drama/intrigue or smth

[becauseplot]

Hi hello more thoughts about this post-osnf au. I should come up with an official name or tag for this lmfao.

A couple nights out of the hospital, settled in Liz's guest room, is when Thiago starts having dreams of being lost in the Symbol again, waking up scared and disoriented and confused. The thing is, he never calls out to anyone while in the middle of his panic because he simply doesn't think to (he knows nothing but the Symbol, where is the Symbol, where is the Symbol...), so by the time he finally thinks of reaching out to Liz---she keeps her phone on her bedside with certain contacts on ringer at night---or texting his friends, he's je's already mostly calmed down and feeling like himself again. That doesn't mean he isn't shaken by it though, and he rarely ever sleeps after waking up like that.

Telling the others that he's having these dreams (Nightmares? Visions? Oh god, he hopes not visions...) is probably the smart thing. But he also doesn't want to freak them out considering that Santo Berço should be, is, dead in the ground and he knows hoe shaken up they were by him taking that Symbol. Fuck, he was shaken too. More than shaken. Admitting that the Symbol still comes for him in his sleep is just...it's terrifying to consider what that means.

He's sure they're just dreams. He's had nightmares---still has nightmares---of his first mission, so only makes sense that the second one would show up too. It's just fresh in his mind. In a week or two, they'll start to taper off.

They do not taper off.

They don't seem to get substantially worse, no, but they certainly don't seem to get much better. Reactions upon waking range from being disoriented for a couple seconds to full blown disconnections from his body and his memory for god knows how long as he struggles to find comfort in surroundings that are entirely strange and alien to him.

He figures out a way to cope, though. He sleeps with a lamp on low light (and a towel lining the bottom of the door to keep Liz from noticing in case she wakes up before him and passes by his room) and writing the following in dark pen on his inner forearm every night before he goes to bed: "My name is Thiago Fritz. I live in São Paulo. My friends are Liz, Cesar, Joui, and Arthur. Liz sleeps in the room upstairs. The Symbol is gone. I am home and I am safe." He scrubs it off every morning. Eventually he cuts the sleeve off an old white workout shirt and writes the reminder on the elastic, skin-tight sleeve so he can simply slip it on before bed.

Does it work? A bit. Sometimes his disorientation gets so bad that the shapes of the letters are just that, shapes, but once his brain can work enough to recognize the shapes for letters and read, it gets much easier from there. He draws some spirals and swirls on the sleeve in the hopes of drawing his attention to it more whenever he's freaking out.

In any case, he's coping, he's got this. Sure, he still doesn't sleep well (or at all) after waking up from the dreams, so he's tired all the time, but a little sleepiness can be remedied with naps. He's injured and middle aged now, people can't get on his case if he wants some shut eye in the afternoon.

The others notice his perpetual exhaustion. Of course they do. He tells them "nightmares" and doesn't elaborate. Liz tells him that he's welcome to wake her if he's having a rough time, and Thiago just tells her she's welcome to do the same. Easy dodge.

[magentalightstudios]

Strange Darling Trailer 2024 | Official Trailer | In Theaters Aug 23rd

Get ready for the most gripping horror thriller of 2024! Watch the Strange Darling Trailer 2024, the official trailer for a movie that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Starring Willa Fitzgerald and Kyle Gallner, this film dives into a twisted one-night stand that spirals into a serial killer’s vicious murder spree. Directed by JT Mollner, with stunning cinematography by Giovanni Ribisi, this movie is a must-see for horror-thriller enthusiasts.

"The cleverest thriller of its kind" - Variety

Storyline: Nothing is what it seems when a twisted one-night stand spirals into a serial killer’s vicious murder spree.

Cast:

Willa Fitzgerald as the Lady

Kyle Gallner as the Demon

Giovanni Ribisi as Art Pallone

Barbara Hershey

Ed Begley Jr.

Madisen Beaty

Bianca Santos

Steven Michael Quezada

Strange Darling premieres in theaters on August 23, 2024. From the producer of Barbarian & Late Night with the Devil, this is one horror thriller you won't want to miss.

[delfts-purple]

The people in this city are fucked up. No wonder there is so much crime here. XD

[helltownohiohq]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 — 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚑𝚚𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝

the festival had been nothing short of odd, filled with questionable party favors, strange music, and even more peculiar company. you've made yourself at home with it, at least. whether it be due to finding some actual semblance of enjoyment, or from just wanting to see it through since you came all the way out here anyways. you keep checking the time, and slowly — it was moving. second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. before you knew it, the sun was at its highest at 8:16pm. you notice, like shadows slipping through the night, that the masked hosts have circled around the outskirts of the grounds. how many of them were there ??

they formed a barrier, a wall that could not be broken. no one could leave without pushing past them, and with the way their masks were gleaming with scarlet in the evening summer sun . . . any temptation to try were quickly snuffed. everyone's attention was drawn to the bonfire in the center of the festival that has been roaring since the moment everyone arrived, its flames never dying, fuel in the form of wood, sticks, and planks always being added by folks of all walks of life.

you hear the beat of a drum, from one of the masked musicians, a steady and pulse-resembling beat like that of a large beast's heart. it's loud, it's all-consuming, you feel it in your feet through the earth below you all the way up to your skull. there's some hushed whispers, some quiet murmurs. perhaps this will just be a prayer of some sort and then you could all go home— the invitation did mention there would be praying.

from behind the tents that had been pitched in the back comes a figure, and she is walking with some odd and peculiar wooden stilts on her hands. like some kind of animal. the mask she adorns is slightly different than those of the festival-hands, a white one with two sets of large antlers stretching to the heavens, and a closer look reveals it has two faces, with what appears to be smeared handprints ornamenting its front.

on these stilts, she circles the fire, beginning to mutter some kind of prayer as she does so. the festival hands echo her words but . . . you do not recognize the language they speak. their prayers grow louder, and louder, and suddenly the figure stops, as does the chanting.

❛ welcome to the 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄, my divinians. . . ❜

her voice, despite its thunderous volume, is a melodic song carrying on the breeze as it brushes through the forest. no one speaks as she silences them with her presence, still on her stilts, surveying the crowd that has now gone entirely silent.

❛ by the acceptance of our invitation, of our gifts, of our offerings and hospitality . . . we officially welcome you into our ceremony. a ceremony of honor. of thanks. of the acknowledgement in the change in equinox and the birthing season of our divine. these coming months, the kin of our saviors will walk these grounds among us . . . and we wish to give them a warm welcome by cleansing this land for their arrival, and purging it of its sin. ❜

you notice now that masked festival-hands were bringing in these . . . sculptures. they look like wicked scarecrows, recreations of familiar figures you see every so often within the town but . . . not quite. there are three of them, with names carved into their faces; SAMSON HERNANDEZ, RICHARD ORTESKY, and MIGUEL SANTOS DE OLIVEIRA.

before you can process what is happening, before you can make out the fine details of the sculptures, they are being tossed in the fire. the prayer amongst the festival hands has resumed, and they seem to be inching closer and closer . . . closing in, entrapping everyone in a tight herd by the fire that now roared louder as it devoured the sculptures it had been given.

❛ the divine demands to be fed, it demands sacrifice. . . for all we ask of it, it only requests that we keep these woods and this earth it walks upon clean. . . ❜

some of the festival-hands words begin to topple over themselves, growing more passionate, some of them swaying with the heartbeat of the drum and the melodic coo of their prayers.

❛ the divine will save us all . . . and bring back the seven who were stolen from us . . . but for the divine to save us, we must feed it. we must fuel it. we must lay down the holiest of carpets for it to walk upon.❜

and then . . . the chanting changed. suddenly, atop the foreign prayer, came the names of the missing bowling alley employees, the name of laurie deana, the name of kayla mcneil . . . prayers and chants mixing until it was too hard to decipher the muttering as anything more than a swell of noise as it crescendoed. as it rocked the trees, pulsed through the dirt, soared like the rising flames of the fire.

and finally, with a final cry for her savior ;

❛ for YOU, the divine . . . for YOU, the most holy . . . in the name of the divinity of cervus, i give my life to you. i give my sins and my anguish and my blood . . . i give you my life so you may restore breath to those in which it was stolen from !! ❜

and like she were a goddess of flame herself, the woman walked into the fire, the flames catching the fabric of her robes and igniting the wood of her stilts, enwrapping the antlers and the mask on her face, swallowing her whole as her screams of agony sounded off like a war cry. the crowd around you erupts in panic, and none of the handlers try to stop you from running as they drop to their knees around the fire, throw their necklaces & flower crowns into the raging inferno, or launch themselves into the swell of flames themselves.

all you can hear is the sound of prayer, the sound of sacrifice, the outcry of panic, and that steady beat of the drum as sun — finally — begins to sink back down to the western horizon.

𝐨𝐨𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

tis not a summer festival without some grand and over the top sacrifice, now is it ??

all you have to do for part two is react . . . it can be an immediate reaction, it can be during the event, it can be days later . . . how is your muse responding to witnessing such a thing ?? did they step forward and offer the gift they had been giving to the flames ?? do they run screaming ??

there is obviously no timelimit on this event: take as long as you wish to wrap up your event threads. the solstice is now over ... but the butterfly has flapped its wings, and helltown, ohio is in for some very cruel awakenings.

[soldierboysdoll]

Just a few headcanon for my SPN DR because I'm bored like hell

(Don't be rude abt my english please, it's not my first language)

– He loves when I listening old musics, like House of the rising sun from The Animals, or Wicked games from Chris Isaak, even though he often mocking with me bacuse of that. It's only teasing.

– Didn't let me drive Baby. He said: "Sorry hon' but I ain't gonna let you hurt my baby" and I'm fine with that, I know I'd probably do that.

– Loves when I wear his old T-shirts, but never let me wear his jacket.

– Once I tattooed a little 'D' initial between my breasts and he always kiss it several times when it comes to intimate moments.

– I love the smell of him. He always smells like leather, motoroil, Palo Santo and cheap detergent.

– When I first show my wings to him, I tore a feather from it and gave it to him. He keep it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

– He was in shock when he first saw the wings and mesmerized when I show him that if he held it in front of the sunlight it's shinmering with a golden light. He was so shocked, he just stared at them for a good half an hour not even speaking.

– When we first met, he was annoyed at Cas that he bought another burden on them, but he actually started to like me when he wanted to corrupt me to drink whiskey and I told him that I made the recipe of the whiskey and incepted it into a random dude's mind.

– The forehead kiss is our trademark. A kiss on the forehead is known to be a symbol of loyalty and trust. Dean knows that angels are loyal to God, but he wants me to be loyal to him and him to me.

– When things get too stressful, Dean and I just take a trip to the nearest waterfront. In the middle of the night, standing in the silence, we just cuddle, me wrapping my wings around him to keep him warm. He would never admit he was cold.

– Unlike other angels, my eyes glimmering opal, so he bought me a necklace with this mineral from a witch for Christmas.

– I had just discovered Spotify, when Dean sitting next to me, started kissing my neck. A playlist of Lana Del Rey started between the heavy kisses and touches. Even the whole making love thing were strange to me, but I bacame much more liberated from Lana's music, it gave rhythm for the whole act. *And yes, my eyes lit up like **that** when... ;)*

– Maybe it's too cliché, but he got an angel wing tattoo on himself because of me. He hates all angels except me, Cas and Jack. He traveled alone to California, where I showed up to him for the first time. He walked into a seemingly trustworthy tattoo studio and came out with two tattoos. With an angel wing ‐ which he made sure they decorated it with golden details - and baby's license plate. After all, we are his two greatest loves.

– I have not visited the Earth many times, but the arts have always captured my interest. I painted Baby for Dean's birthday, which he put on his wall.

– I was wounded by an angel blade during a hunt. Dean has been afraid to use this weapon ever since, because he's afraid he'll hurt me with it, even though he's very good using blades and knifes.

– He knows I love when he has beard, so he shaves less often.

– ALWAYS have cherry and coke flavored Haribo in the glove-box.

– Sometimes he let me pick the music, then grimacing and complaining and whining the whole time during it until I have enough of his bitching and let him pick his music.

– Secretly singing almost every Avril Lavigne song in his mind when I listening that.

– Quickies in baby.

– Quickies almost in every places he gets horny.

– Our love language is mocking and teasing each other and cuddles. Lots of cuddles.

– He can't sleep if I wasn't there for some reason.

– Sexting. A lot.

– He loves when I send him nudes, and has a folder in his phone about them what he titled with just a little angelwing emoji.

– Calls me 'angel' even though he knows I hate it.

– Polaroids of us in baby.

– Let me help when he fix the car, but only because he loves when I gets dirty by motoroil.

– Buy me pads and chips when I'm on my period, but give it to me with a lot of complains and mocking. He loves taking care of me though, even have an extra heater pad what he could heating in the car in his bag in case if I have period cramps on the road.

– Teach me how to clean guns, but always do it for me to make sure it's safe to use.

– He loves my cooking. As soon as he tasted my cooking the first time, he never wants to go to a diner.

[mystrangesanto]

That's right - King Bossonius the Bloody will be @ Dustfaire 2023! Pay your respects w/ a fistbump. Just look for the one wearing the 👑!

[heyymikki]

lamb to the s l a u g h t e r

LOCATION: Hotel in Las Vegas FEATURED: @giovanniiricci @elliottortegax MENTIONED: @maevemacnally, @nikodimopoulos

It was done.

The article she had been working on for months was finished and had been posted both on the Tribune's website and on the front page of the print edition.

It was strange how her feelings for the town and the people in it had significantly changed since she had agreed to Dante's ultimatum nearly three years ago. A place she had never anticipated feeling any attachment to had become home, the people in it her friends and family. Now, with it all in jeopardy, she couldn't in good conscience stand aside and let it happen without putting up a fight to make up for her part in it all. What better way to stick it to the head of the organization that had blackmailed her than to use those same connections to out him for who he really was?

And yet... she had miscalculated. What she had viewed as a mercy of not pulling her friend into it ahead of time given all she was going through turned out to be the exact opposite, blindsiding her friends with the reminder of what they had lost.

Grief reared its head in all kinds of ways, but she hadn't expected the pushback. She hadn't expected the anger from Maeve and her family when she thought she was doing something to help, keeping the names of those lives lost at the forefront of the conversation -- a reminder that they hadn't been forgotten, that there were still people searching for the answers to why they had had their lives senselessly taken from them. Now, because of her own selfish pursuit of redemption, she had hurt others and possibly ruined their friendship for good.

Every day since Niko had told her of the collapse of Los Santos -- and as a result, her ring of protection -- she waited for the businessman to retaliate. There was nothing: no refuting her claims, no spinning of some kind of PR story to explain away the evidence she had found. The silence was deafening.

Still, life moved forward. She still had to go to work, put a smile on her face like she wasn't terrified of the other shoe dropping. The weekend of the music festival quickly approached, and she tried to allow herself to enjoy the idea of letting go and forgetting her cares for even a few hours, even though the last couple of events hadn't gone well. But first, she had to meet a client.

Luna had gotten a request for an evening on the Friday of the festival weekend. Niko insisted she cancel, but she figured before she had to face the ire of those in town she'd upset, she could have the distraction of a night in Vegas. To appease him, she kept her personal phone on her with her location enabled as she made her way to the meeting place.

The opulent hotel lobby shimmered in bright white marble with accents of gold throughout. It was enough to tell her that whoever her client was had a lot of money. If she did well tonight, she wouldn't have to work for a little while. She could help Niko with the restaurant, or they could go to Greece like they had talked about. It felt so long ago already, though it had only been a few weeks realistically.

"Excuse me," she greeted the man behind the check-in counter with a smile. "I was told there would be a key waiting for Luna?"

"Ah, yes, I have that here for you." He pulled out a drawer beneath the desk and pulled a keycard from inside, double checking the room number before jotting it down onto the sleeve.

"Thank you. Is he already up there?" Receiving a nod in response, she smiled and thanked him once more before heading to the elevators, heading for one of the penthouse suites. These were her last few moments alone before she'd have to put on an act for the remainder of the evening. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, trying to brush away the uneasy feeling settling like a weight in her chest. Just one night, then she'd be able to work on everything else later.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to the appropriate floor, and she searched for the appropriate room number. Usually when clients left a key at reception, they wanted things to keep things discrete, so she didn't bother to knock, using the key to let herself in.

The room was dim with only a few lamps lit around the common area, and she didn't immediately notice anyone inside. A table in the eat-in kitchen was set with two glasses of wine and two plates covered by metal domes to trap the heat inside and keep it fresh, but she caught whiffs of something earthy and sweet. "Hello?" she called. Maybe he was getting cleaned up, she thought. "Is anyone here?"

"Hello, Miss Beaumont."

Every bone in her body stiffened at his voice. She'd listened to enough interviews and campaign speeches to know the voice of Giovanni Ricci.

If only she had trusted her gut.

Giovanni casually strode from one of the side rooms, a coy smile on his lips like a cat who'd cornered its prey. She backed up towards the door but was immediately halted in her pursuit by a broad, hard chest behind her. The security guard gripped onto her arms to hold her in place as another locked the door.

"I'm so glad you could join me this evening. Please, sit." Giovanni motioned towards the seat across the table as he took his own, unbutton his suit jacket as he did so.

Mikayla was forced into the seat, though she struggled to get out of the guard's grasp. He grabbed the decanter full of red wine and poured some into each of their glasses. "You're not an easy person to get alone, you know." When she didn't respond, he continued. "I read your article, of course. It wasn't entirely accurate, but I was genuinely impressed by what you managed to uncover. I don't imagine you could have done that without help." His gaze flicked up to meet hers. "I'm curious to know who your sources were."

"I wouldn't be a decent journalist if I didn't protect the anonymity of my sources," she replied.

Giovanni chuckled. "You'd be surprised at what information even a person with integrity is willing to share when they're subjected to pain beyond imagination."

Mikki held her breath. "Is that what you're going to do to me?"

"Perhaps. It depends on you, really." He held his glass in the air, waiting for her to do the same. He raised an expectant brow, the silent tension growing every moment she delayed. Finally, she lifted her own glass and held it up, allowing him to gently tap them together. "I'm hoping it won't come to that if we can reach some kind of agreement."

"Is that all you want to know? My sources?"

"Mm, well," he started after a sip of the wine, "right now, yes, but questions beget questions and so on and so forth." He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "You know how it goes."

"No, actually. This is my first time being interrogated for information."

The other guard who had locked the door came to the table to lift the covers off the plates, revealing a filet paired with mushrooms in some sort of wine cream sauce and mixed vegetables on the side. If it had been offered by anyone else, she would have begun eating right away, but she didn't trust that none of the food had been poisoned or tampered with. That didn't stop the man from digging into his own dinner.

"It's rude not to eat," he remarked, watching her.

"It's rude to kidnap someone, too," she retorted.

"I'd hardly call it kidnapping when you came of your own volition," Giovanni chuckled again. "I suppose if you don't eat it, our other guest will."

Mikayla furrowed her brow. "Other guest?"

As if on cue, the muffled sound of a groan came from the room Giovanni had come from. Mikayla's eyes darted in that direction, her heart racing in her chest. She wouldn't put it past him to use someone in her life to get her to talk based off of everything else she'd learned about the man, but the number of people it could be had become an ever-growing list over the last few years. Who could he have grabbed without anyone else noticing?

"Ah, he's awake. Bring him here, would you?" Giovanni didn't even look up to address the guard, but the man nodded and made his way into the room, grappling with whoever was being held there.

Mikayla's eyes grew wide as a bloodied Elliott was dragged into the room and thrust into the third chair at the table. "Dad! What is he doing here? What did you do to him?!"

"I've grown tired of the traitors within my organization who believe I don't know of their disloyalty," Giovanni replied in a bored tone around the steak in his mouth. The man glanced across the table at her, face stoic. "He's been watching you and your mother for years using our resources. If only he'd done more to hide his allegiances, I might have believed he was true to the cause."

Her father was a part of The Enterprise? The news shook her to her core, but she did her best not to let Giovanni see it. The last thing he needed to know was another one of her weaknesses to use against her.

"If you tell me what I want to know, you both can walk out of here and you'll never have to worry about me again. And if you don't... Well." He smirked. "I'll be forced to get creative."