#Maxine Black One Shot

[redcoralpot]

Tougher Than Nails - Mike Schmidt X M!Reader

Warnings/Details: NSFW content, implied substance abuse, alcohol, cowboy!reader, hankie/cowboy hat code.

Summary: Mike goes to a bar downtown in hopes of getting his mind off of court, but instead finds something much healthier.

A/N: Everyone should thank my boyfriend for this idea; he's always the one that reminds me that I am technically a 'cowboy'. He saves a horse very often.

Word Count: 1.8K

-

-

Bars weren’t really Mike’s thing. Any alcohol he’s ever had tasted like crap, and becoming an alcoholic would just be another check on Aunt Jane’s list to prove to the court that he wasn’t suitable for custody. Hell, he swore her perfume was still clinging onto his nose hairs, and all he wanted to do was escape her. Escape reality, too. Mike remembered when his father used to do just that after Garret disappeared, drowning himself in the bitter liquid at night, his speech slurred. That’s why he was here, at a bar in downtown Afton, while Maxine stayed with Abby. He was desperate.

The building was crowded, delightful chatter and jazz music filling the air. Lights were strung along the wooden walls, narrowly dodging the black and white photos hanging by themselves. More customers squeezed in behind him; Mike frantically searched for any open spot in the room. Hallelujah– a single stool was left vacant near the serving counter, and Mike shuffled into it, shoulders tense. The bartender seemed to notice his presence, as she leaned towards the man, still shaking another person’s drink. 

“You’re a new face,” she rattled, “may I see your license?”

Mike fumbled with his wallet, sliding the card for her to see, “Uh, sure.”

“Right, you’re all clear; would you like to open a tab?”

A man cut in before he could answer, and for the first time, Mike got a good look at the person sitting beside him, “Just add whatever he orders to mine, Molly.” 

She shrugged, the key hanging from her left pocket jingling, “Easier for me.”

You chuckled, the brim of your hat covering your eyes. It was decorated with embroidery and leather, complimenting your purple button up shirt, though that was partially hidden by a black vest. Two hankies hung out of your back, left pocket, similar to Molly’s keychain. One was rust colored, but the other was a complimentary gray; Mike thought it was an interesting stylistic choice. 

“I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”

As the bartender turned, scribbling in a notebook, you inquired, “So, what’s a fine boy like you doing ‘round these parts?”

Mike grabbed the foaming beer that was placed in front of him, “I live nearby.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

He hesitated to answer, instead choosing to take a long sip of the beverage. It burned down his throat, the flavor making his lips curl and his head a little more dizzy. Somehow, it loosened his will, and he found his lips moving without his permission. Your energy was just hypnotizing; he felt himself being pulled in.

“Needed a break from stress,” Mike admitted, picking at the glass’ label.

You cocked your head to the side, your hat tipping upward, “Just ‘cause you’re in a hole, doesn’t mean you gotta keep digging. Alcohol isn’t the cure to what you’re feelin’.”

“What am I supposed to do? Not even my medicine works anymore.”

“I go here for stress relief too,” you assured, downing a shot, “but not necessarily for the drinks.”

Your hand hovered over the small of his back, looking at him for consent. When he didn’t move away, you settled your fingers there, feeling a shiver run through Mike’s body. Some of the previous tension released from his shoulders, and he almost leaned back in relief. Many of the customers in this bar were paired with the same sex, unlike most of the movies he’d seen that included the subject. So, he supposed it wouldn’t look too weird if he did.

You elaborated, “People can be cruel, can’t they, sweetheart? Comin’ to a place like this, where everyone’s like me in some way or another, is a damn good bonus.”

“Like you?”

“Y’know,” you gestured to your handkerchiefs, “queer and such.”

He paused, “Ah.”

“You didn’t know this was a boy bar?”

Mike replied, “I kinda just looked up the closest bar to my house.”

…

“Good to know.” Your hand fell away from his back.

He almost chased it. Mike liked the feeling, the weight of your fingers pressing into such an intimate spot. However, he wasn’t tipsy enough for that, and controlled himself. He watched as you spoke to Molly, the lady’s eyes flicking towards him and back, and you slipped her the money needed to cover the tab. You tipped your hat towards Mike, a respectful way to put distance between you, before disappearing into the suffocating crowd. Molly side eyed him, sweeping away his bottle, before leaving as well. Mike swallowed, pulling loose skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. It was now, or never– perhaps alcohol wasn’t the only way, after all. You were right. 

Mike could still see the very top of your hat swerving above the crowd, and he trailed after it to the best of his ability. A random girl almost elbowed him in the face, and he was sure his shins would be bruised after tonight. Your shadow was reflecting in the glass door, growing fainter and fainter as you walked further away, your hips swaying. Mike pushed it open, the vision dissolving, and cold air stung his cheeks. The moon reflected off of car hoods, the only way he was able to see where he was running. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, as you flinched.

Mike’s ears were red, probably from the alcohol, and you stared at him, “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know,” was the only answer you got before your collar was jerked forward.

Your lips crashed violently with his; your teeth clicking as he struggled to pull you closer. Mike was still fisting your shirt as you brought your hands to cup his jaw and the back of his neck, trying to gentle the kiss. 

You mumbled against his mouth, “Better not be some experiment of yours, pretty boy.”

“Nope,” he whispered, the aftertaste of whiskey on his tongue.

His back hit the side of your car, and his hands moved from your collar to swinging his arms around your neck. Your knee found its way in between Mike’s thighs, pressing against his crotch, and his groan was swallowed by your lips. Mike whined when you trailed down, aiming instead for his neck. Dark marks and bites soon decorated the pale flesh, his blood dripping a contrasting splash of color. 

Tugging on his earlobe, you challenged, “Gonna come back to my place?”

Mike doubted he ever agreed to something so quickly.

The drive was long, too long in his opinion. Though, it was most likely only fifteen minutes, at most. Mike didn’t even have to walk up the driveway to your cabin; his legs were locked around your hips as you carried him through the door and up the stairs. He ground his groin against you, searching for any possible friction. You tossed him onto your bed, unbuckling your belt, holding it taut. The man in front of you wiggled back and spread his legs to make room for you. You snickered at how willing Mike was, considering his hesitation when you first met.

You regularly kept lube on the bedside table, just to be prepared for when you brought men home from the bar. However, this one was different in a way you had trouble putting into words, other than positive. His thighs shook as you massaged the liquid into his hole, a hand covering his mouth to prevent you from hearing his noises. Ah, now that wouldn’t do, would it?

In response, you tugged his hand off of his mouth, “Lemme hear you.”

Such pretty sounds from a pretty mouth, it was truly a shame. When Mike immediately went back to covering them up, you slid your fingers out of him, instead reaching for your abandoned belt. His eyes trailed after your hands as they bound his wrists together in front of him, almost akin to handcuffs. Mike couldn’t see much of your expression after your head dipped down, only the shit-eating grin playing on your lips. Of course, that was before you took your hat off by the crown and placed it firmly on his head, though it was a tad too big for him.

“Why don’t you keep that safe for me, sweetheart?”

For a second, Mike was confused. Keep it safe? Just what were you planning on doing? He felt a grip on his waist, right before his world spun around him, and the positions were practically reversed. The guard was now sitting on top of you, or more so your crotch, his thighs caging in your hips. Mike’s hair was disheveled and the light on the ceiling created a sort of halo around him, and fuck, did you think he was pretty. Only a few select people had ever gotten to wear your hat, and you could confidently say that he was the most beautiful in it.

You unbuttoned your jeans, letting your cock slip through the opening, “You ready?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

You had a grip on his waist again, slowly guiding him down. You didn’t thrust, didn’t force him to go fast, and allowed him his proper time to adjust, “How’s that feelin’?”

“G-good,” he shuddered, precum leaking from his tip, “think ‘m ready.”

“You haven’t seen the brunt of it yet, boy!” You grunt, thrusting the rest of you inside, brushing against Mike’s prostate. 

The man on top of you moaned, and the sound was so uncharacteristically loud that even he seemed surprised by it. Mike leaned down, resting his tied fists on your chest in order to keep his balance. His sweat dampened your collarbones, his drool smearing on your neck, and the pathetic excuse of a guard tried leaving kisses over the areas he could reach. You soon found a rhythm to your thrusts; groans were punched out of your throat on their own.

Mike could feel heat rushing through his brain, bringing tears that stuck to his eyelashes, covering any thoughts or hesitance he may have had before. That wasn’t enough for it– it spread like wildfire down his body, down to where your fingers were leaving bruises, and down to his red, leaking dick. Something deep was brewing inside of him, nothing he’s felt since his hormonal teenage years. Hell, he didn’t even have time to process it when you kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear that he’s such a needy slut; it exploded.

When he finally came to, he could feel his thighs twitching and your heaving, sticky abs below him. His eyelids felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was stay there with you. You were rubbing circles into his back, attempting to pull out, but a grumble from Mike made you stop. In fact, you were saying things, but it sounded muffled and far away. He took great comfort in your voice, no matter what you were talking about. It was getting farther and farther away, yet still managed to follow him into his dreams. For the first time since the incident with Garret, he did not have a nightmare. 

-

Taglist: @cannabrisano @kai_beanz @fandomz-brainrot @slimemakermas

[o3o-aya]

Part four of this fic series please!! https://www.tumblr.com/o3o-aya/683165183281152000/can-we-please-get-a-part-3-of-the-yoriichi-x

:) lol I forgot about this one but yes!!!

All of my one shots are gonna be series now I swear to the gods but with my new laptop we're back in business >:)

TW- blood

“He’s dead.”

The words you so dreaded to hear…

Your husband… He was dead… It had been years… Years…

So long since you had laid your eyes onto his face…

“Don’t be so sad mother.” Your son said with a grin on his face. “Now this means you can give all your thoughts and love to me!” The boy said happily.

He was turned into a demon at a young age… He was stuck in that mentality…

“Don’t.” Muzan said to your son as his narrowed his eyes. “Go finish off the boy.” He said as he waved him off.

“Akao…” you called out to him, but he was already gone.

Wincing as Muzan harshly grabbed your face.

“Congratulations… You’re a widow now.” Maxine said, a smirk reaching his face… In an almost mocking tone.

“You know what that means…”

~~~~~~

Centuries… It had been centuries…

What was his name again…?

You couldn’t remember… You could barely remember his face…

“Mother!~” Akao called out as he placed a plate of guts in front of you.

“You should eat!” He said as he stroked your hair.

“Not now…” You said to him.

“Lord Muzan wouldn’t be pleased to see you starving yourself…” Your son responded with a grin.

“My boy…” You said softly. “Don’t concern yourself with such business.” You said as you patted his cheek.

“But…” he said before you cut him off.

“Go…” You said before sighing softly, trying to think of that man that you supposedly loved so much…

Watching him go before your eyes widened, sharp nails digging into your cheeks.

“What did I say… About thinking about that man?” Muzan asked harshly, a vein popping out of his forehead.

All you could do was look up at him as you slowly shook your head. "No... No I didn't... I swear.." You whispered as his nails dug more into your cheeks, blood dripping onto the floor.

"Go... Get out of my sight." Muzan said as he threw you onto floor.

You winced as you looked down before scrambling away, hearing the sound of the biwa transport you somewhere.

Looking around the forest before you looked up at the sky. "Oh..." You said softly. "The stars..." It had been so long since you had seen the stars... You had almost forgotten what they looked like...

But your attention turned to the boy inches away from you... His checkered green and black haori caught your attention first... Moving your gaze up as your eyes widened.

Those earrings... They were... No... Impossible...

Slowly reaching your hand out before the boy went to strike you.

It was like a flash... Memories coming back to you as you thought about him...

Him...

"Yorichii..." That's right... that was his name... His name was Yorichii...

Moving past the boy's blade as you hugged him close to you...

"My Yorichii..." You whispered, it felt as if Muzan's grip had slipped away from him.. Slowly but surely...

~~~~

"She's been following you around?" The boy asked his friend. "That's... Weird..." He muttered as he turned to look at you, his e/c eyes meeting your own.

"She hasn't hurt anyone so far... But she's just been following me... Even on my missions she's just been watching me..." Tanjiro said with a nervous smile.

You just quietly watched them as you hummed and fiddled with the sleeves of your robe.

"As far as i know she hasn't killed anyone... I just found her in a forest..." Tanjiro said.

"Hey that kanji in her eye means wife right?" The boy asked, looking back at you again.

"Maybe she'll have some answers for you Kamado..."

[cardiolove]

A shock

Max and Chris had known eachother for a little while, enough for max to discover the fact that Chris could do some weird stuff on command. Those said things included being able to raise his heart rate exponentially and heat his body up to a fever.

What they also had figured out about eachother is that they're both cardiophiles.

Max, short for maxine, was about 5'4, a bit on the curvier side and had blue hair. She also had an interest in medicine apart from cardiophilia.

Chris was about 5'9, tanner skinned and his hair was about as long as Max's but it was black. He was neither skinny to the point of bone but not obese either, somewhere along skinny fat.

They had planned a meeting at Max's house, not for their usual coffee and chit chat, but for a little medical fun. Truth is, they found eachother attractive and were close enough in age so that it wouldn't be weird. They had loosely made up a scenario they would role-play to and how it would eventually end, at least that's what Chris thought. What he didn't know was that Maxine had prepared a surprise for him.

Maxine sat in her kitchen, sipping a coffee and excitedly awaiting the doorbell. She was wearing scrubs, the type that doctors wear while working in the emergency room, and a Littman stethoscope draped around her neck.

After about 15 minutes and half a coffee later, the long awaited ring sounded and Max shot out of her chair like she had been electrocuted, spilling a bit of her coffee on the table.

At the door stood Chris, slightly winded from the stairs he had to walk up. He was wearing a loose black tank top and a pair of black sweatpants. His hands were carrying a skateboard and his hair was lightly stuck to his forehead as the heat of outside had caused him to sweat a bit.

"Hii!! Come on in" she excitedly says, jittery from the coffee and the thought of finally being able to enact a long lasting fantasy of hers.

"Hey, sorry for being late I had to pick something up" he says as he sets his skateboard down next to the door. He takes off his sneakers and then pulls out a small bag with 2 brightly coloured candies. "Had to pick these up from my friend Molly" he continues with a wink.

"Oh" she says, a smirk growing on her face as she sees his actions. "Do you want something to drink? A coffee or something?" She offers as Chris puts the bag back into his pocket.

"No coffee, wouldn't want my heart to actually explode now. Just some water for those 2" he said, chuckling. As she went to fetch the two of them some glasses of water, he oriented himself to the nearest mirror, angled his head up, and admired how his pulse was visibly beating already, excitement driving his naturally elevated heart rate even higher.

"Should we take these now or later?" Maxine asks, coming back with two glasses of water. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was eyeing him, she traced her eyes up and down his arms, torso, legs, neck, shamelessly.

"Now's the best time, you have to wait a few minutes for them to take effect" he said, passing her a piece, grabbing a glass and swallowing the candy piece. "You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable" he reassures Maxine, seeing her looking intensely at the candy. She tells him it's fine and immediately swallows it, this being one of the last few times she's going to do what he tells her.

"Go ahead and get comfortable in the other room, the doctor will be with you shortly" Maxine tells, tearing a hard inhale from Chris as he nods and heads off to the bedroom. When the brunette enters the room his eyes glisten when he sees and ekg machine and a defibrillator, even if they won't truly be used he could still already feel himself stiffening and his heart thud against his sternum harder.

As he sits on the bed and takes a few breaths, their scenario not starting with full on panic level tachycardia, the door opens and Maxine walks in, her stethoscope swaying around her neck.

"Hello Mr. Gutierrez, I see here that you've been having some trouble breathing, is that correct?" She said, looking at a chart. Chris quickly got into character and started breathing heavier.

"Yes, it's been happening for a few days so I figured I should come here and get it checked" he said, resting a hand on top of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

She extended her hand resting two fingers upon his carotid to feel his quickening pulse before moving behind him. "Lift your shirt up, i'm going to listen to your lungs, the stethoscope might be a bit cold" she orders him.

He reaches behind him and pulls the back of his shirt up. He fakes a faint wheeze when asked to breathe deeply, as they had talked prior.

"You have slight abnormalities in your respiratory sounds and your pulse is a bit fast for just resting, I will have to proceed to further investigations." She says, writing in his chart.

"My... chest h-hurts" he chokes, using his abilities he raises his heart rate into tachycardia, up in the high 140's as his chest starts heaving.

"Lay on the bed i need to listen" She quickly says but not before he grabs her palm and presses it to his chest to feel his heart fluttering. After he lays down she takes off his tank top, gaining better access to his heart while also running her hands up and down his body.

"He-help me" Chris pleads, enjoying the feeling of his heart slamming against his sternum, the Molly they took earlier starting to kick in. Max quickly puts her stethoscope against his chest and listens to his heart rate soar over the 150's, his heart thudding almost three times every second. Maxine listens closely, pressing her hand against his chest. Watching as her hand is moving to the rapid staccato of his heart, he throws a skip... a few seconds later another one. The mauve headed doctor is impressed by Chris' control over his heart. They had a safe word if anything went wrong so they knew to stop.

Thud thud thud thud thud-DUN

"Wow..."she whispered unconsciously, which only made Chris more turned on and made his heart gain even more speed. His dick was now almost fully erect, yet they were only at the halfway mark of their scenario. His mind was starting to numb and he basked in the feeling. After she finished listening, she started putting the ekg leads on him. Quickly, the room filled with rapid tempo beeping with the monitor showing irregularities here and there.

"I- I can't breathe" he said, this sentence being a signal for the next part of their scenario. After Chris said the key words, he rolled his eyes to the back of his head and he started shaking, no... not shaking, seizing. Maxine pressed a button on the ekg machine and the rhythm changed to a preset one she had set. The ekg line becoming erratic as he keeps seizing.

"I need some help here!" She said to the empty room. Maxine now secretly turned on the defibrillator, as the next step was flatline and fibrillation. What Chris didn't know is that the defibrillator was real and could actually administer shocks. Just as she set the voltage on the defibrillator Chris stopped seizing.

She pressed another button on the ekg that showed Chris was in ventricular fibrillation. "He's fibbing, charge the defibrillator at 150" she said, putting gel on the defib paddles. Not shocking him quite yet, just miming it like they had planned. He pushed his chest up against the paddles and then back down when she pressed them.

"Shit, flatline" she verbalizes, only exciting Chris more, his erection now uncomfortable against his boxers. Maxine placed the stethoscope against his heart, hearing it thrash around his chest. His heart was now visible on the left side of his chest, hard to notice but there. His whole body was throbbing in time with his thrumming pulse.

"Starting compressions" she announces, lightly pressing on his chest, not deep enough to cause true damage like real compressions would, but enough to feel amazing for both him and her, especially him. She could feel his pump battering at her palm. She finished a set of thirty and went to give him rescue breathes which he gladly took but also turned into kissing. Hungry kisses, so hungry.

"I need a better angle" she says seductively. Saying that she moves from his lateral and climbs on the bed, straddles his lap right on top of his metal grade erection and resumes compressions. His body Is burning and his heat is radiant. She finishes the second round of compressions and in between rescue breaths "come on" she pleads.

"Fibrillation again, charge to 200" this time, she presses the button to charge, the defibrillator set at 50 joules, enough to affect him but not kill him.

"CLEAR!" She announces, stops touching him, and shocks him. He shoots up, caught in an adrenaline high, he presses his hand to his heart and laughs.

"WOOO THAT FEELS INCREDIBLE" He shouts. Chris grabs the stethoscope and puts it in his own ears and presses it to his chest. With a mesmerized look, he hands the earpieces to Max. As she puts them in her ears he grabs her hand and puts it on his chest.

"Oh my God... are you okay" she says, almost drooling. She chuckles at the question she just asked, Chris' heart is beating around 200 times every single minute, that's more than 3 times per second. There's moments where he slips into atrial fibrillation and skips back to pulse. As incredible as this sounds to Maxine, the better it feels to Chris.

"Oh... it feels so good" the tanner says, grabbing Maxine and starting a make-our session with her, and Oh was it heated, in mere seconds they were creating friction and were moaning messes. Chris took off the top of Max's scrubs only to find nothing underneath but hot flushed skin. With the steth still on his chest, Maxine moves down from his lips and onto his neck where she sucks and bites like a vampire, leaving marks all over Chris' neck, she especially pays attention to his distended carotid, tracing it with her tongue before attacking it, feeling his pulse incredibly fast against her mouth.

Chris grabbed onto Max's hair and started bucking his hips forward, his body flooding with pleasure. The pain of her teeth, the thudding in his chest, the pressure on his dick. It was driving him feral.

"Your turn now" Chris said.

Shall be continued? Tell me what you guys think because this has been gathering dust in my drafts for almost a year. Also, not proofread so tell me if it's incoherent.

[finleycannotdraw]

yo, hi,

please rant about the use of colours/shots in dead boy detectives (if you want to), that would be amazing to read!

omg hell yeah i would love to. <3 buckle up everybody!

(there were some other people in the comments who wanted to hear more as well. for convenience's sake i'm going to keep it all in one post.)

I'm not going to talk about every single frame in the last post, because there are a lot, but I'll be sure to touch on all of the ones that have a good amount of depth beyond the dramatic lighting. (sorry, Angie shot.)

...this is going to get long.

so first, this one:

With Edwin's brown coat, Niko's green coat, the brown bushes in between them, and the trees behind Edwin, this shot is cohesive and satisfying. I drew the orange lines to sort of illustrate how your eye moves across the frame; the line of eye contact, the tree branch (dashed lines) almost parallel to that, the sidewalk/grass line, and the lapels/shadows/folds of their jackets all form a general diagonal streamlined snapshot. Then the black post behind Niko, the tree between them, and the tree trunk behind Edwin continue to divide the frame vertically and add to the additional invisible "line" created by their height difference. Finally, the sky behind Niko, as well as her hair, contrast heavily and very well with the darker colors of the tree behind Edwin, though there is still white on his side (the building) and brown on hers (tree branches). If you were to take a single diagonal line from the bottom left corner to the top right, you would get two incredibly distinctly colored sections, but they complement each other so well.

This whole scene is gorgeous because of the pale sky and water up against Niko's hair and the brown tree trunks with Edwin's jacket, but I also love it because it's so simply colored. We have the classic blue+orange color dynamic, but diluted down to very pale blue and very dark brown. This shot specifically features Edwin focused at the center (the blue lines show that he is standing mostly straight up, while the trees on the borders of the frame are all leaning inwards), with Niko crouched down to fit with the shape of the hillside (orange) AND the silhouetted rocks in the foreground. Then the hillside, the shadow on the water, the general cutoff of the tree branches, and the island in the distance (purple) frame the two of them in the middle without making a Point of it. It looks very natural, especially with the dark shadows around the border of the frame. (personally sort of brings to mind Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog).

I don't think I need to add any annotations to this one. The lighting is sharp and so are the shadows. The fog and the shine on the water, his hair, and the collar of his coat are starkly lit, while everything else, including his face, is deeply shadowed. Plus it's all an ominous, murky green. It's almost the opposite of Lilith coming out of her blood-red ocean. 10/10 frame, I have no words.

I gasped the first time I saw this shot. There are so many vertical lines (orange), which make the space feel thinner: the spike, the bulletin board(?) on the far left, both doorframes, the edges of the table and boxes, the tile on the wall on the right, Maxine herself... and then there are the diagonal lines, all sort of spreading out from Maxine, which includes the table edge, the shadows, and the wall tiles again. Then there's the fact that it's all so dark, but not quite pitch black. Once again we have a green/orange combo, and the light behind Maxine being so small in the whole frame makes it very effectively claustrophobic. We also never saw her enter this room from behind, which elevates her as threatening, because the camera work makes it seem as though we, the audience, are backing away from her as she enters, and then hiding from her as well. While I am devastated by the lack of a sapphic romance arc, I have to say I was blown away by the production of this scene.

I love this one because they're arranged so neatly around the book. I didn't draw a curve over their heads, but it's easy to visualize by following Monty's hairline up to Edwin's, and then Edwin's down to Charles' down to Crystal's. The height order is perfect. Then there's the black-brown-black-brown of Monty's jacket, Edwin's jacket, Charles' jacket, and Crystal's hair. The book itself helps frame their faces (diagonal blue lines), and their clothes fall into uniform with the vertical trees behind them, creating a satisfying, natural, unobtrusive background. This is definitely more visually appealing than a shot of them leaning over and looking down at the book/camera. It's also broken up very nicely by the greenery. Plus, none of their faces are shown from the same angle! Refreshing!

Poor Monty :( but hey, he gets a really awesome shot here! We're back to orange+blue, and the angle of this shot makes it look like the vertical trees behind him are positioned diagonally (orange) to follow the dark blue shadow behind his head. We also get two light sources: one of them is the moon, and the other one comes from the same place as the music. The moonlight (blue) sort of encircles his head and cuts off at the line of trees about halfway across the frame. Both the back of his hair and the far side of his face are illuminated, which is very effective in terms of bringing him into the foreground and making him the focus of the shot even though he's not in the middle of the frame. It's also balanced nicely by having background detail on the left, with the orange trees, but not on the right, where there's nothing but dark blue behind Monty. This is also a great shot when it comes to his hair and jacket, because the jacket is used to add to the framing of his face with the dark blue background, and his dark brown hair is lit sparingly, which ties in the left side of the frame.

Like the frame with Maxine, this one has a lot of shadow and a little bit of light, and again works with an orange/blue (or teal, really) color scheme, but this one is much friendlier. The windows are larger than the doorframe and Charles isn't actually blocking the light the way Maxine did. Instead, he's illuminated from the right by Edwin's orange lantern, and the shot is balanced by highlights (blue) that stop it from becoming cramped and stressful. There are stable vertical lines (purple) and rafters and shadows spreading out from the center (orange). Charles, though he is blocking the window, is wearing a white tank top, and his skin takes on the warmth from the lantern, so he's not in silhouette and he blends very nicely with the scene. I love that he's not at the center of the shot, but instead framed almost perfectly in the right window. (Another thing I love about this show is that the characters almost always interrupt the continuity of the background even when they're positioned to be framed by it. It makes the scenes feel much more natural even while they continue to be gorgeously directed from an artistic/stylistic point of view.)

This is one of the simpler ones, but it's perfect. The Night Nurse's hair and vest are the same brownish orange, and her shirt is the same as the walls, sticking with our tried and true brown/green (easy variation on orange/blue) color scheme. She is framed in the blackness of the doorway, but once again interrupts the white doorframe on the left side. Even the lamp and the board (?) on either side of the frame fill the negative space in a natural way. Also, the vertical lines of the board, doorframe, door, and lamp aren't perfectly spaced apart, which makes the whole shot feel more down-to-earth.

There is so much going on in this shot. The beams of light (orange) are emanating from behind Edwin in a shape sort of reminiscent of wings. The angles of light/shadow and the immediately obvious position of some of the mirrors (blue) also spreads out from behind him, reinforcing the wing imagery and focus. The background is lighter than the floor, and Edwin's clothes blend in with the floor and the reflecting highlights (green) in the mirrors. It's all balanced by shadows (purple), which aren't so much shadows as they are dark-colored mirrors and the blood on Edwin's face. This shot is an unsettling combination of chaos and order, increased by the strange phenomena of mirrors endlessly reflecting into each other, especially since Edwin doesn't show up in any of them. You'd expect him to look out of place, and he mostly does, but there's just enough immediate immersion with the color scheme and light angles to make him fit perfectly. And he wouldn't fit in this shot nearly as well if he were wearing his usual clothes. It's such a good way to introduce Despair. I love this scene.

Now I needed to include these two next to each other, because they're. They're the same scene. Maren is on the porch looking down at Crystal and the boys, but the color schemes and blocking are so starkly different. Maren is wearing black, and the house is washed-out yellow and maroon, both unfriendly colors in this scene. The windows all show the gray reflections of the dead tree instead of even a glimpse inside the house, immediately showing that Maren is hiding something. Then in the shot with Crystal and the boys, they're positioned behind her on the path. Edwin is next to the brown gate and gray stones, and Charles is sort of shadowing Crystal and framed by the green bushes. Crystal's shirt is flower-patterned to match the pink petals on the ground, and her red hair and purple jacket make the whole shot more vibrant and friendly-looking than Maren's, even though Maren is supposedly the one being helpful/friendly/hospitable. The first time I watched this episode I knew I couldn't trust Maren as soon as I saw her standing on her front porch. This scene is, as Charles would say, brills.

Okay, last one, I have to stop somewhere. (I have so many more. I have. SO many more. that i could talk about. but this post is so long already). There are three windows, evenly spaced, white light and curtains framed in them. Charles is in nearly full silhouette as he opens that chest; his head and the lid of the chest intersect with the vertical window frame, and his arm runs parallel to the middle bar. He also blocks a good portion of the leftmost window, while Edwin stands in front of the one on the right. He's fully framed by the window and standing farther back than Charles, not quite silhouetted but still very dark compared to the background. When he ducks down to inspect the cabinet, his head ends up in front of the wall between the two windows. This whole scene is an excellent display of blocking/framing/lighting, just in terms of where they end up holding any given position while they talk. Once again, there's nothing artificial or manufactured about their blocking. These aren't statement shots (all film projects have a few Really Good Shots, but they're often at extremely important, pivotal, or emotional times, instead of spread out through the storyline.), which makes them even better.

I might have to make another post and include shots with Jenny, the sprites, the Cat King, Esther, and more landscape shots. There is no shortage of stunning frames and scenes, and there's no reason not to dive into the production and hidden meanings.

TL;DR: this show is an ARTISTIC MASTERPIECE. Please watch it. :)

[nine-one-wanton]

@typicalopposite Mobile has completely garbled your ask. It does not show your entire message. There is no “Answer” button for me. So forgive my answering in this format! 💜 (Your other garbled ask is forthcoming!)

Buck reached his foot under the table, his ankle finding Tommy’s and locking them together.

“What’s going on with you?” Tommy asked softly.

Buck sighed, “I’m feeling kinda left out here. Or, like, I don’t completely belong here?”

Tommy frowned. “You don’t like this place?”

Well, that wasn’t true. “I do like it, I just don’t know how to be here. And..” His eyes shot to Émile, who was standing back, with a neutral-to-smug look on his handsome, chiseled face.

Tommy looked confused, his eyes followed Buck’s eyeline to their waiter. And then his eyes widened, returning to Buck’s.

“Seriously, Evan?”

“I mean, it’s fine,” Buck lied. “You’re in a relationship. But you’re not dead.”

“True..” Tommy said cautiously.

“Y-y-you have eyes.”

“Are you.. attracted to our server, Evan?”

“What?!” Buck whispered.

Tommy grinned playfully.

“You’re the one that’s been flirting with him this whole meal,” Buck said, doing his best impression of a ventriloquist, not wanting anyone to read his lips to see what they were talking about. And regretting how intimate the seating was down here. He thought he saw one of the Canadians rolling their eyes.

“Do you know how deliberately you have to flirt with a server around here to get even your water refilled?” Tommy deadpanned.

Buck felt the tips of his ears turn pink, and he.. kinda felt like he might be being gaslit.

Maxine’s clipped voice interrupted, and Buck was able to make out enough words, and apply context to understand that she was asking if people were ready for the final dessert course.

Maxine’s eyes coolly shifted to Émile. And Émile had the audacity to ask Tommy something directly. Something that sounded to Buck’s barely trained ear like, ”Êtes-vous sûr, Monsieur Kinard?” And then Émile’s eyes flicked skeptically to Buck and then back to Tommy.

Buck felt heat pooling in his core again, and he unlocked their ankles, pulling back into a closed off posture.

Tommy nodded, a barely perceptible gesture. And his shoulders shook a little - and Buck thought he might actually be.. laughing?

Tommy took a deep breath, swallowed a large gulp of wine, and then let his breath out slowly as Émile sat the most beautiful plate of macarons down before Buck. A combination of rich chocolate and raspberry macarons were artfully, delicately trailed across a thin rectangular plate. And on top of one of the dainty cookies sat a rose gold wedding band, with a black and red opal inlay.

Buck felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He looked at Tommy with disbelief. As he began to reframe the evening.

Tommy laughed softly. “I love you, Evan Buckley. Every ridiculous, wonderful bit of you. Would you marry me?”

“I’m.. an idiot.”

“And what kind of idiot would I be, if I didn’t love you anyway?”

Buck put the ring on his finger. And couldn’t help shooting a pointed look at Émile, who had faded into the background after he and Maxine had served the guests their desserts.

“You’re wearing the ring, Evan. Is that a yes?”

Buck gasped. “Oh, right. Yes. Of course, it-it’s a yes. Hey.. am-am I supposed to wear this right away? Like an engagement ring? Or wait until we’re married, like. Since it’s a wedding band?”

“That’s the great thing about being queer, Evan. We get to make up our own rules.”

“I want to wear it,” Buck said, decisively. “And I want you to have one, too. So, people know.”

“Know what?”

“You’re mine.”

Buck saw Tommy’s breath hitch slightly. A sharp little hiccup of an inhale. Then he asked, “Should we, uh.. finish up here? Get back to the hotel?”

“Need me to remind you?” Evan asked in a low voice. “Since I don’t have a ring for you yet?”

“Evan..” Tommy breathed. And Buck could hear the mix of Yes, please and Not here weaving through that one breathlessly whispered word.

They took the macarons in a small paper bag to go, and began the short walk back to their hotel room.

[basilone]

May I also request ²²⁰⁾ trembling for Lottie and Gale, please? 🌸

Of course, ty for sending it! 🥰 I took a little detour into a college AU for them here, which has them as best friends who're dancing really dangerously close to being more than just best friends. I hope you'll like it!

rabbit heart

"I can't believe you fought him."

"Wasn't much of a fight," he says, shaking his head as he fills a glass. "He went down too quick for that. Didn't hit him that hard, either."

"Gilly, you almost knocked him out!" Lottie's laugh is sudden but genuine as it peals out of her in the next room. "He staggered straight into Julie-Anne's cleavage about it, remember? And that didn't agree with her any, so I guess he's gonna have a right rotten night."

"He's going to get the night he deserves," says Gale, wandering back into his bedroom. "He shouldn't have opened his mouth in the first place."

That earns him a half-hearted shrug from Lottie, or at least an attempt at a shrug that's made more complex than it needs to be due to her position on his bed. Her head's dangling off the edge, with the black ribbon in her hair close to unraveling onto the floor. Her top glitters up at him — all black and silver and gold sequins — but it somehow still isn't as bright as the spark in her eyes.

Gale seats himself on the edge of his bed, about an arm's length away from her. "Got you some water," he offers, holding the glass out as a peace offering. "And don't you start protestin' it will make you, what was it, piss like a rabbit or something."

"A racehorse, goddamn," she snickers out loud, lifting her head and rolling over just to mock-glare at him. "You and your fuckin' rabbits. I knew I shouldn'ta let you watch that sad bunny movie." She scoots closer just to brush his cheek with her knuckles. "It's in your head now, silly Gilly."

He rolls his eyes. "You begged to watch Watership Down with me." He thinks she can do with the reminder, though he won't mention the fact that she got his shirt all wet from sobbing all over it. "Take the water, Squeak. Stop stalling."

"It is gonna make me crawl all over you in the middle of the night. Because you still ain't moved your bed away from the wall. And you don't let me sleep on your side o' the bed." She still takes the glass out of his hands. Takes a dainty little sip of it that he knows better than to react to. "Unless you got plans, in which case…"

"Shut up."

"What? Fella like you, Saturday night, lil bit o' schmoozin'…" Her grin widens with every turn in her speech. "Just sayin'… it's not outside the realm of probability."

"Yeah?" He tsks to himself as she drains the glass in one big gulp. "You're my plans, Lot. Gotta have somebody…"

"I ain't drunk," she says, but the breath that lingers in the air between them reeks of cheap shots and tequila. "Probably ain't even gonna puke. I'm peachy. I didn't even sing this time so I can't be drunk-drunk."

"Not every night is a Livin' On A Prayer sort of night, huh," he smiles, taking the glass from her and setting it out of potential harm's way. "Just don't want you being by yourself after all that, all right?"

"I'm fine."

Gale snorts. "And I'm the Easter Bunny."

"Jesus, Gilly, enough with the dang rabbits already… I swear you're just fucking with me every time you bring 'em up." Lottie's groan is a little too loud to be genuine. Her smile, however, flickers and almost falters entirely. "I said I'm fine, you don't gotta let me stay all night…"

"Your ex made out with Benny right in front of you," he starts, "and you almost blacked Cressie's eye when she breathed in your direction"— he can't say he fully abhors that course of action —"and then you made Maxine cry, which got Brady and Perrault upset," he's ticking them off his fingers now, "and then you flirted with about three different guys before Henry made that stupid comment."

Her smile dies. He can see it slip out of her eyes and leave the corners of her mouth to turn downward. Her hand flies to the part of her hair where the pink dye didn't really take, where there's still blonde peeking out from between the unruly and rather haphazard few braids she put in it. She worries at the end of a braid, plucking at it and snapping its band just shy of breaking it.

He sees the goosebumps rise on her arms at the same time. "Lot, hey, c'mere," he murmurs, keeping his voice as soft and non-combative as he can make it. "Let's get you warm, all right?" He waits for her nod, which seems to be accompanied with a new set of tremors. "There you go," he soothes, nudging her back on his bed until she's between the wall and him, "blankets are right there, see? No need for all that tremblin'."

"You sure? I lost my pants between the door 'n here. Stupid leather made me feel like I was gonna rip out of them." Her voice is a mumble of protest that he's got to strain to hear. "You're gon' get a handful of my ass in the mornin', Gilly, just like last time when I kicked my pants off in my sleep."

"Thought you said you were going to have to crawl all over me in the middle of the night? Might already get a handful then," he teases, taking care not to look at her long and rather tanned legs slipping under his sheets. He busies himself with the pile of blankets he keeps on the side of his bed where she always stays. Tries not to think about all the times he woke up with her all over him. "You should think about wearing sleeves in this weather. Get you warmer real fast."

"Yeah… Bad life choices dictate I can't. Sorry." Her whisper comes out raspy. There's a tremor to it that makes her voice almost wobble, as if she's trying not to cry. "I'm just gonna keep fucking up, okay?"

Gale smiles despite himself. "Okay," he allows, piling the blankets atop her one at a time. "You wouldn't be you if there weren't fuck-ups, Squeak." He settles atop the covers beside her. Close enough to share the pillow that's more hers than his. "Got my share of those, too."

"Well," she whispers, "punchin' Henry wasn't one of yours."

"No, it wasn't," he agrees, stroking her cheek until her stray tear is no longer anywhere to be seen. "He obviously didn't know what he was talking about."

You're awfully close to the town slut, aren't you, Cleven? Careful she doesn't rub off on you, if you catch my drift… Gale shakes his head at the memory. Flexes his hand, which feels a little tender from connecting with Henry Dorrance-Jones's patrician nose and smug smile.

"He wasn't lying, Gale. I'm… you know. Easy."

"You?" He smiles as he threads his fingers through hers to stop her from undoing her braids. "You're the most complicated person I know, dotty Lottie."

Her nose wrinkles, just as he knew it would. "Wasn't what I me—"

"Fuck what you meant," he yawns, closing his eyes just to signal how done with this he is. He tries to keep his voice even as he squeezes down on her fingers. "I know you better than everybody at that party does. You just listen to me, all right?"

"Gilly…"

"You're my best friend," he whispers, clamping down on the urge to reach out and kiss her now that her breath fans out warm over his face. She's all cheap booze and tequila and that heavy perfume she wears on nights out and he couldn't love her more. "I'd punch a guy for you any day."

"You loooove me," she snickers without missing a beat, "you loooove me, yes you doooo." He can hear the smile in her voice. "You're my best friend too, silly Gilly. Promise."

Her little finger hooks around his and doesn't let go.

[mycroftirl]

Some stuff from my Runner Five, Oisín Moore’s history

Raised traditional Irish Catholic. Has a ton of trauma from it

Was on a camping trip with some uni mates when the zombie apocalypse happened. Ended up tripling and breaking his leg during their run from the zombies.

Because they were stuck in a cave for almost a month, they weren’t able to set it right so it healed wonky. Started using a cane

Ended up at the military base as a scientist since he’d been a bio major and figured he might as well put a degree he didn’t want into action

Has an older sister but the age gap between the two is about 10ish years and neither get along well. She was overseas in the US with her fiancé when the zombies happened. Oisín doesn’t know if she’s alive or dead (she’s alive, his parents are not)

When he first arrived at Abel, he kept to himself almost entirely. He was recovering from the helicopter crash that shattered his legs. Even with Maxine’s skill, they still weren’t able to set the legs properly. Becomes a wheelchair user

Sam and others ended up dragging him to a Demons & Darkness session because they needed a cleric and Oisín was free. He went unwillingly but ended up secretly enjoying himself. Everyone entertains his act of not wanting to go to D&D night

Same vein except he hates it: someone scavenged a karaoke machine. Abel proceeded to have a karaoke night. People found out he didn’t have a karaoke song and the mission that night became “we have to find Five’s song”. After about a dozen songs, he got assigned ‘You Soin Me Roung (Like A Record)’ and he hates it but damn if he can’t rock it when he’s drunk

Speaking of drunk, he’s a total lightweight when it comes to drinking. The first night that Abel was able to enjoy the cider they’d made, the Runners had their own separate party. He proceeded to get smashed after 2 or 3 drinks. Ended up earning the nickname Cider which is only used against him when people want to tease him

He also got two ear piercings on one ear that same night. The morning after, he was horrified and could feel his mother’s embarrassment and disappointment

For his first year and a half at Abel, he’d dye his hair black because he loathed the ginger. Because it had been black when he arrived, no one knew he was actually ginger until he couldn’t scavenge anymore hair dye. When his roots started showing, Sam was the first to notice and comment on how ginger suited Oisín

Voice in the Dark is when Oisín started to fall for Sam

It still took him 3 years to ask Sam out

During s3mis24 (the one with the teenagers running off), he and Sam ended up becoming paternal figures to a lot of the teenagers. It completely weirded Oisín out at first. Then the kids and little ones also began to look up to him (though they already had a bit of hero worship for him) and he got used to it. The little ones were his favorites, though

Jack, Eugene, and a couple folks in the maintenance and construction teams have helped make and upgrade a few wheelchairs to suit mission needs for him. They also craft him forearm crutches when he works up the energy and muscle to walk. The kids end up decorating his wheelchairs and crutches

He ended up taking in 2 kittens when he becomes Head of Runners and has his own little private shack. Sam has out a camera on both of them when they wander Abel because “I want to see what they see!”

Will use a gun, has a good shot, and doesn’t particularly mind using it, but his real area of skill is with a knife. He has a couple types of straps and sheaths for his favorite. Two fits his chest, one for his forearm, and another for his thigh

Holds grudges and does not forgive easily. This includes himself. He will EVER forgive himself for the Comansys ships incident

It took him nearly two months to agree to being Head of Runners. While he knows he’s the best choice and takes on the workload, it drains him in every way possible.

[joggerfive]

Sorry

A little post-S1 M1 fic about Five getting to know Sam (and Maxine) after their arrival at Abel. Featuring a bag of frozen peas.

Link to the fic on AO3 if you prefer to read on there!

Enjoy! :)

-----

“Do you think that’s who they’ve assigned for Project Greenshoot?”

Five whipped their head around behind them to see who had said that, remembering how the Mullins pilot had mentioned the same codeword earlier before all hell broke loose. 

The two women didn’t react at all when the new arrival stared directly at them, standing close together, both with their arms crossed. Though they didn’t match in their physical appearance - one tall, one small. One with pale skin, one with darker skin. One with her hair down and brushing her shoulders, one with a tight bun. - they were wearing similar outfits, akin to army generals, covered in khaki green and deep browns and matte blacks.

Before Five could approach them, the boy that had been talking to them over the headset spoke again, voice still slightly tinged with unease.

“You should go to the hospital.”

The runner looked at him quizzically, then followed his gaze down to their right arm, which was covered in dark blood. They wanted to argue that it wasn’t theirs, but knew that seeing a medic was probably a good port of call anyway.

They nodded, waiting for instruction.

Sam was still for a moment, then the realisation dawned on him, “Oh! Right. I need to show you where that is. Come with me!”

He spun on his heel and began walking further into the township, not checking if Five was following.

Five gave another quick glance to the two women, both of them still regarding them with caution, curiosity, and something else that Five couldn’t quite identify. 

Tearing their gaze away, they followed Sam, easily spotted even as he was many paces away, his orange hoodie bright against the drab environment around him.

—

Five fought to stay still as they sat on the hospital bed, mostly because they weren’t sure that the rusted rickety frame could handle their fidgeting without buckling beneath them.

Sam sat on an equally precarious looking chair at their side, giving them an awkward smile as his leg bounced nervously, seemingly unsure of what to say. Luckily, someone else entered the large tent before he needed to think of a conversation starter.

She looked slightly frazzled, strands of her tightly coiled hair escaping from the scarlet red hair wrap. She hurried over to the bed, left hand swiping a worn pair of gloves from a wooden desk as she went past.

“Hi-”

As soon as she spoke, Five recognised the voice as the doctor that spoke to them when they’d been running towards the township. The one that said she would refuse them entry if they didn’t bring the medical kits. 

She had seemed strict over the microphone, but it was hard to associate that voice with the person in front of them now, graced by her soft face and kind eyes. Five could tell that she would’ve been a good doctor before all of this. The sort that put her patients at ease and asked for permission before doing anything.

“I need you to strip so I can search for bites.”

Five supposed that the apocalypse had changed most people.

Sam looked sheepish at their side, pulling his sleeves down over his hands, “I’ll, uh, leave you with the doc. Don’t want to-”

He stood, and before Five could even realise what they were doing or why, their hand shot out to grasp Sam’s forearm tightly. It took him by as much surprise as it did them, his brown eyes looking down at the hand, then back up to Five’s face. Only seconds later, Five let go as if they had been burned, face aflame. 

Maxine glanced between the two of them for a few moments, then seemed to settle on a compromise.

“I’ll just do a quick check here.”

Five let out a breath they hadn’t known they were holding as Sam sat back down.

Maxine continued, watching their face, “Am I alright to roll your clothing up to look?”

They nodded mutely, trying to relax their muscles as the doctor’s covered hands moved across their body, gently prying sweaty clothing from their skin. Five simply stared up at the tent’s dark green ceiling, watching as the thick fabric moved with the wind. 

“This used to be an ex-army tent, apparently,” Sam supplied, following their line of sight, “It was good that we found it. Though, it was a real ball-ache to bring it here. Three and Four saw it first, and thought they could bring it by themselves-”

Five listened to the story, grateful to have their attention taken away from the doctor’s wandering hands and eyes. 

Suddenly, the voice talking changed.

“Does your knee hurt?”

Five looked towards Maxine, tilting their head in question. She had her hands bracketed on either side of their right knee, the fabric of their trousers now rolled up just above the joint. 

It was only when Five looked at the other knee beside it that they could tell it was rather swollen in comparison.

Still, they shook their head, genuinely not feeling any pain in it even as Maxine pressed harder in multiple places around it.

Maxine pulled her lips to the side in thought, then nodded to herself, “I’ll put an ice pack on it anyway. One moment.”

She removed herself from the bedside, bowing as she moved the tent flap and left. Five saw a glimpse of the outside, now dark. They couldn’t even calculate how long they’d been there, time seeming to halt and propel forward too fast all at once. 

The two remaining people stayed silent, the only sound around them being the rustling of the tent fabric and a few muffled voices from outside, no words recognizable. Five fiddled with their hands in their lap, rubbing at the dried blood on their fingertips. They didn’t even know where it had come from. The pilot? A zom? Themselves? Maybe even Alice-

“You’ll be alright now.”

Five looked over at Sam at the statement. He gave a small smile, moving his arm ever so slightly, then freezing it in the space between the two of them. He seemed to make up his mind, placing his hand on Five’s forearm, mirroring what they had done before.

Five didn’t know why, but the contact seemed to loosen something in their chest that had been tight ever since the missile made contact with the helicopter, a choked sob escaping before they could contain it. They clamped their mouth shut, but their body still shook with silent sobs, even as they tried their hardest to stop, feeling self conscious about being seen like this by someone they’d just met. 

Maxine entered the tent once more, holding a half opened bag of frozen peas with a blue elastic band wrapped around it.

“I didn’t do anything!” Sam exclaimed as he held his hands up, looking like a young child in trouble with a parent.

Maxine seemed slightly amused at the panicked words as she wrapped the bag of peas in a worn shirt then put it on Five’s injured knee.

“It’ll be the adrenaline wearing off,” she explained to both of them, a calmness in her tone, “it’s alright. I expect the pain might kick in as well soon.”

Five didn’t seem to hear the words as they tried to focus on breathing steadily to calm themselves down. Their chest still felt painful even as they knew there was nothing wrong, heart thudding heavily. They moved a closed fist over it in circles, reminding themselves to take deep breaths, but also-

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

Five looked at him in alarm, the motion halting.

“What?” Maxine asked, brows furrowed as she tried to understand what she’d missed.

Five looked just as confused, hand still in place.

Sam’s eyes darted between the two, “Was that… You were signing, right?”

They hadn’t really considered that they had been doing it, let alone that someone would understand them. 

“You know sign?” They asked, moving their hands in three quick motions.

“Uh,” Sam’s mouth opened and closed as he considered his words, “Not like… officially or anything. But my sister’s hard of hearing, so I tried to learn with her growing up. It was like our secret language that Mum and Dad didn’t know.”

There was a look on his face that Five didn’t know how to interpret. A smile, but tinged with wistfulness and sadness too. They didn’t know what happened to his sister, but they could definitely guess based on the status quo. 

A voice broke the silence, even as she spoke quietly, “I’m going to put this bag back in the kitchen, it’s already getting warm.”

“Huh?” Sam looked at Maxine as if he’d completely forgotten she was there, “Oh, yeah, sure.” He said, even though she was already through the door.

The silence came again, but this time it felt more welcoming somehow. Five simply watched as Sam’s thoughts came across his face, waiting it out.

“Maxine was right,” he said finally, “it’s what she would’ve wanted. Alice, I mean.”

Five smiled solemnly, putting a hand on his forearm, repeating their earlier gesture. They gave it a friendly squeeze, making sure it was not too tight as they felt the bone beneath his slender arm, even though the thick hoodie material.

Sam took an extra second to compose himself, then breathed in sharply, as if resetting.

“Anyway! Good to have someone new.” He grinned at them, all traces of sadness pushed away. “Don’t remember the last time we had a new person! I hope you’ll come to like it here.”

Five mirrored his expression, feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. 

They hoped so too.

[horrorvillaintourney]

watched maxxxine the other day. Thoughts (and spoilers!) below the cut.

It’s definitely not as good as the first two movies. It felt tacked on as an afterthought to an already complete and cohesive narrative formed by the first two movies. The themes felt as if they were still embryos, not yet fully formed. I think the somewhat incestuous undertones of Maxine’s relationship with her father were probably the best-done thing in the movie, but they made a mistake in not elaborating on some other things that they just hinted at, like how violence and trauma have affected Maxine’s sexuality or how they’ve affected her dreams of stardom and her sense of safety in that stardom. For example, there’s a really great scene early in the movie where a man attempts to mug Maxine in an alley, and she forces him to strip and suck on the gun she’s carrying, and then crushes his balls under her high heel. It’s a horrifying and very well-done scene, and it’s shot to make you see the gun as Maxine’s dick, and then just - never brought up again. This physically harmed me.

In the same way X is The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Pearl is The Wizard of Oz, Maxxxine is Psycho, but it’s so obviously Psycho with absolutely no subtlety. X wasn’t subtle either, but at least it didn’t have the exact TEXAS CHAINSAW HOUSE for Maxine to hide in while Kevin Bacon was in hot pursuit. I think the Psycho themes could have been well done if they ran through the movie as a sort of constant thread instead of just showing up overwhelmingly in certain scenes.

also my lovely friend who I saw the movie with called the twist forty-five minutes into this overlong affair, AND despite all of Ti West’s more progressive, reimagined takes on slasher tropes, they fell back on possibly the worst horror habit of all time, which is of the first three kills, two were the film’s only Black characters. Speaking of one of said characters, whatever accent they had Halsey doing was abominable and unnecessary.

In short, I liked it and was disappointed by it. I’m used to the X films feeling like extremely detailed masterpieces, and I am merely left with a decent slasher.

[scrambledsun]

this thing i made but havent finished. not sure what to do with it yet. have a read anyway!

Two months. It had been two months after he had done what needed to be done. And now he teaches the two students he had perfected. The girls sat at their respective desks and dutifully took notes.

Maddie, now known as Maudine, had black yarn hair with a low puffball tail and brown perfected eyes. no more silly glasses. After all, everyone knows a perfect doll doesn’t need glasses. Wearing glasses would suggest something was wrong with their eyes, it would suggest they didn’t have proper vision, that they were broken in some way.

What child in the big world wanted a broken toy out of the box?

Moxy, or now Maxine, was a doll with sugar pink yarn hair, styled in a short cut that curled upwards at the ends. She now had the body he felt was more suited for a proper doll. no more ugly doll felt, her body was now made from the same fabric as her fellow pretty dolls were. No more of that obnoxiously loud hot pink skin color. It was replaced with tan skin; the only downside was her face.

She had pesky freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks now. Damn it. Oh well, he had given her that pocket concealer for a reason. He remembered how happy she was with it, how he had to remind her to stay still and calm her giggle fits as he helped her apply it for the first time. Every now and again he would have to remind her that those freckles were showing. After all, it was his job to point out awful imperfections like that.

Really, he had done them a favor.

He found himself often having to remind himself of that.

He gave them the kind of chance he would never be able to have. They, with a little more time, could soon be able to go to the big world. Their grades and performance were part of the higher grades. He was thinking about assigning them as tutors for dolls with less-than-stellar performances. It wasn’t like he couldn’t use the help.

 Try as he might he was only one doll at the end of the day, a bitter pill he had to swallow a long, long time ago. He oversaw hundreds of dolls a day. So there came times when he had to rely on other dolls that had proved to be borderline near perfect, to help the dolls that had trouble keeping up.

Truth be told, he HATED recycling his dolls, he hated hearing them beg and plead. And their screams, dear doll their screams. Often broken and desperate. He knew how the recycling process worked too, it was part of his job to know the steps just in case it broke while a doll was still in there, and for whatever reason the robots couldn’t fix it, it would fall on him to fix the abomination.

 The first step is the most terrifying to him for a specific reason. When a doll goes into the recycling machine, it is his responsibility to personally oversee them and make sure they don’t escape. That means he must watch.

 Therefore, when a doll or more is put in and shot down the chute, he ensures no dolls are clinging to the inside. He goes to the surveillance room after. A place he hates just as much (if not more) than the recycling machine itself. This room is so he can make sure that the first step is done. It was the most important part because it was supposed to ensure the victims.

Ehm. The imperfections were rendered immobile, making the rest of the process much easier.

He had to watch dolls fall into the grinder room. If they were unlucky enough to fall and land on their legs or sides, they would have to endure the worst last few seconds of their life. Those few seconds always felt like hours to him. Watching their limbs flail about as their bodies were eaten alive by the gluttonous grinder teeth.

 And he could hear everything happening. Every cry every choke every plead. because for some fucked up reason when whatever doll-forsaken maker made this place, decided that they felt like a microphone was more than necessary.

Those moments would haunt him in his sleep for months on end, only letting up with time and distractions. He couldn't afford to fail other dolls because he was too busy thinking of the ones he failed.

His mind is wandering too often these days.

“And with that class is dismissed for the day, study hard now,” he said putting down the white chalk on his desk and then grabbing a tissue out of the blue cubed box that sat next to the pencil holder and began to wipe his hands clean of the white powdery substance.

The students stood up from their respective seats and the noise began. Notebooks are put away, friends grouped back together, and his dolls begin to filter out.

He watched as Maudine and Maxine talked while they put their things away. Maxine must have said something funny because the other doll covered her mouth to try and hide a laugh. Ever since they were perfected the two were borderline inseparable, not that that surprised him.

They were close in their shared end too.

Stop thinking about it.

“Maudine, Maxine, could you girls hang back a minute, I would like to chat about something.”

“Yes, Lou!” They both replied at the same time, looking at each other for a moment before giggling about it.

Lou didn't even bother to try to stop the smile on his lips. Chuckle nuts, the both of them.

Girls stood side by side in front of him. Maudine stood dutifully still and expectant hand at her sides, while Maxine subtly swayed back and forth, arms crossed behind her.

“you girls have been making quite the waves lately hmm,” he said making sure to use one of his trademark smiles that would have pretty dolls swooning.

Maudine had a bashful look while.  

[brittanagirlcrush]

Something Different

Ok ... for some reason, sometimes the link works, sometimes it doesn't ... not sure if it's the link or FF.

You can find it on my ff page ... https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1642505/

A/N: I was listening to the radio and Dancing With a Stranger by Sam Smith & Normani came on followed by Don't Come Out by Dua Lipa.

Those two songs gave birth to this fic. I'm pretty sure it's going to be less than 5 chapters. However, those of you who've read The First Time Ever I Saw Her Face are well aware that I am not always in control of these things.

I'm not sure how I feel about this one but I think anything that comes after the epic that was TFTEISHF is going to feel a little anti-climactic(?) maybe? I don't think it's a bad fic. But I'll leave that up to you to decide.

For those of you who are wondering … Dreams Come True is on Chapter 23 but this little fic wouldn't leave me alone so you get this first.

Xoxoxoxo

Santana's latest relationship ends on a sour note. Just like her last three. Maybe it's time for something different. Rated M for language.

Xoxoxoxo

Chapter 1

xoxoxoxo

Santana Lopez growled as she read the text message from Max.

From Max:

3-10-17 4:26pm

Hey babe. Sorry, gotta cancel tonight. Big meeting. Gonna run late. Talk to you tomorrow.

She was done; Max had canceled on her three times this month and each excuse was as lame as the last. Big meeting? Bitch worked in the freaking secretarial pool at an ad agency. Santana scoffed and shot off her own text message.

To Max:

3-10-17 4:37pm

Enjoy your meeting. We're done here. Don't call tomorrow. You can stop by Sunday and pick up your shit – I'll leave it in a box by the door. Don't bother knocking. Don't wanna talk to you anymore.

She shut off her phone and tucked it into her bag. There was no way she was sitting home alone on yet another Friday night. Fuck that shit.

Santana Lopez was going out.

Xoxoxoxo

Santana walked into Club Xero at 10:35pm. Her phone, still off, was tucked into her cross-body bag. Heads turned as she walked in; she looked good and she knew it. Blood red dress, hugging every curve. Check. Three inch black heels. Check. Smoky eye makeup. Check. Blood red lipstick. Check. Hair lightly curled and flowing past her shoulders. Check.

She walked to the bar, ordered a shot of Jack Daniel's, took it, then ordered a rum a coke. She sipped at the drink, casually scanning the club. Her eyes fell on a brunette; a familiar brunette.

“Fucking bitch,” she muttered, shaking her head. If she had loved Maxine, been in love with her, she'd unleash her inner Snixx and cause a scene. As it was, she didn't care enough. The relationship – if you could even call it that – had run its course and she was over it the minute she sent the text that afternoon.

She resumed her scanning and her perusal came to a screeching halt on a tall, blonde woman dancing by herself in the middle of a crowd. The woman was stunning; Santana's breath hitched. She glanced at her half empty drink, shrugged, and handed it to the bartender, telling him she was done with it. She had to go meet the blonde.

She shimmied and sashayed her way through the throng of people until she was just on the inside perimeter of the circle that had formed around the sensual blonde. She'd only been there a moment when the blonde halted for a moment, her eyes restlessly searching the crowd for something; until they fell on Santana and a smile blossomed on perfectly pink lips. The dancer maneuvered her way over to Santana and held out her hand. Santana was immediately lost in ocean blue eyes.

She didn't hesitate. She took the hand and was pulled into the dancer's orbit. It took less than eight beats for them to be in sync; moving to the music and with each other seamlessly.

Time ceased to have any meaning as they danced; front to back, back to back, front to front. Shimmying, grinding, swaying. Never losing contact with one another. They were panting heavily and Santana motioned toward the bar, a question in her eyes. The blonde nodded and Santana led her through the crowd and to the bar.

“What are you drinking?” Santana asked.

“Orange juice, Peach Schnapps, and a shot of vodka.” Santana nodded and conveyed their order to the bartender.

She handed her companion her drink and took a sip of her own. She was just about to ask the blonde's name when her bicep was roughly grabbed and she was brought face to face with an angry brunette.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dark eyes flashed with anger.

Santana looked coolly at the bitch in front of her and wrenched her arm away from the other woman's grip. “I suppose I could ask you the same question but I don't care enough. If you'd read your text messages, you'd know that my whereabouts are none of your business anymore. How'd that meeting go, anyway?” Santana sneered and turned back to the blonde.

Maxine tried to get in between the blonde and Santana, causing Santana to snap. “Walk away, bitch. We're done. Go find whoever you came with and bother them. My new friend and I are enjoying a short break before we go back to dancing.” She angled her body so Max was blocked out.

“This isn't over, Santana, we'll talk about it later.” Max snarled and stormed off, leaving Santana shaking her head.

“I'm so sorry about that.” Santana told the blonde sincerely.

The blonde smiled and shook her head. “You wanna get out of here?” She asked Santana.

Santana nodded and the blonde took her hand and led her out of the club. Once outside, Santana started to hail a cab … then stopped herself. She looked at her new companion and sighed.

“I know this probably isn't what you had in mind when you asked to leave … but … do you think we could maybe go somewhere and, um, talk?” Santana shuffled uncomfortably; this was new territory.

The blonde watched her curiously before nodding and taking Santana by the hand. “I know this great all night diner about five blocks from here,” she told Santana as they started walking.

The walk was silent; not uncomfortable or awkward, just quiet.

When they reached the diner a tall, heavy-set man with thick salt and pepper black hair, mustache, and beard greeted them.

“Two?” He asked and, receiving an affirmative reply, led them to a booth near the back. “Sarah will be right with you. Can I get you something to drink?”

They both asked for water and coffee; the man handed them menus and went to get their drinks. After the drinks had been settled and their orders made, Santana turned to the woman.

“I know this is probably a little forward but … what's your name?” Santana grinned.

The blonde giggled. “Brittany S. Pierce.”

Santana frowned. “Britney Spears?”

The blonde laughed. “Britt-any. Susan. Pierce.” She said slowly, enunciating her name clearly.

“Oh. Gotcha. I'm …”

“Santana. I heard that woman call your name.” Brittany smiled.

“Yeah. Lopez. Santana Lopez.” Santana grimaced.

“You don't like your name?” Brittany brow furrowed in confusion.

“I don't like the woman,” she answered. “Full disclosure … I called it quits about nine hours ago.”

Brittany nodded. “I see. But you're still living together? Because we could have gone to my place …”

Santana sighed and shook her head. “No. I live alone.” She paused in thought for a moment. “There's this quote – it's attributed to Einstein but I'm not sure he actually said it – The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

“See … I do the same thing; I meet a woman, we have an attraction, an energy exchange … whatever.” She waved it off. “We end up at her place or mine and we have sex. If the sex isn't good, we say 'thanks, see ya around'. If the sex is good, we make plans to see each other again. Then … two, three, six months later and I'm either getting cheated on or getting dumped. Repeat.”

She shook her head. “This may sound stupid but … you feel different … and I want something different. So, I thought, maybe … if you were amenable … we could try something different. Maybe get to know each other before we get naked?”

A grin broke across Brittany's face. “I, um, kind of really like that idea.”

“Really?”

Their food came and they started to eat.

A few moments passed and Brittany nodded. “Yeah,” she said, around a mouthful of eggs, “really.”

Santana grinned. “Awesome. That's … great.”

Brittany giggled. “So, Santana, what is it you do for a living?”

“I work for a small, independent music producer. I write songs, work in the editing room, sing back-up; kind of a gal Friday.”

Brittany's brow furrowed. “What are you the rest of the week?” She asked, a blank look on her face.

Santana was just about to explain when she noted the gleam in Brittany's eye. She laughed.

“And, what is it you do, Miss Britney Spears?” Santana asked, a twinkle in her eye.

Brittany laughed. “I'm a choreographer. I own a studio that trains dancers for music videos, Broadway, background … you name it, we do it.”

“Really? What's the studio?”

“C&P's Spotlight Stars,” Brittany answered.

“I've heard of you guys. We've used your company. Your dancers are really well trained.” Santana nodded.

“Oh, cool. What studio?”

“K-Bar and Chaz.”

“I love you guys!” Brittany's face lit up in recognition. “You pay on time, treat the dancers really well, don't over-work them to the point that they get hurt. You're awesome.”

Santana laughed. “Good. I'd hate to think that could end up being a deal breaker for us.”

Brittany laughed and they continued talking into the wee small hours.

“Hey, Santana …” they'd been talking about just about everything when Brittany hesitated.

“Yeah? What's up?”

“Um … I really like you. I, uh, I don't wanna be a rebound, you know?”

Santana smiled. “I didn't care about Maxine enough to rebound, Britt,” the nickname slipped free without conscious thought. “I liked her in the beginning, thought maybe it could become more … but,” she shrugged, “it never did. Then she started canceling plans at the last minute, making excuses … and I just gave up trying. There was no point since she, obviously, didn't care and I wasn't really invested anyway, you know?”

Brittany nodded and gnawed on her lower lip. “Are you … are you gay?”

Santana frowned. “That's an odd question … I was dating Max and I'm interested in you. I'm not sure I understand.”

Brittany huffed a sigh. “Okay, so, here's the thing. I know a lot … like a lot, a lot … of lesbians won't date bisexual women. And, um, I kind of identify as bisexual.”

Santana thought about that for a moment. She sighed softly and played with the food left on her plate, not meeting Brittany's eyes. “I have to admit to a certain bias against bisexual women,” her voice was quiet, “my first girlfriend … um, she said she was bisexual but I really liked her and I was naive enough to believe her when she said she liked me. We were together – in secret – for about three months before we had sex.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It was my first time.”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I showed up at school the day after we made love for the first time – I say made love because that's what it was for me – and found a picture of me and her in bed together taped to my locker. Except … while you could definitely see it was me, you couldn't tell it was her. Only that it was a woman.

“I tore it down and went looking for her; she's the only one who could have done it.” She lifted her eyes and met Brittany's sympathetic gaze. “I found her … with her boyfriend. They laughed at me for being so stupid; they'd planned it from the beginning.”

“Oh, San …”

She shook her head. “That wasn't even the worst of it.” Santana angrily swiped at a traitorous tear making its way down her face. “She'd posted a video of it on the internet and made sure everyone got the link.”

Brittany closed her eyes and shook her head, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“My parents found out and kicked me out. My abuela disowned me. The only person in my family who stood by me was an aunt. It was hell. Everyone knew and I was harassed almost everywhere I went.

“She took me in, let me finish high school in Lima, then helped me move here for college and a fresh start.”

“I'm so sorry.” Brittany reached across the table and took Santana's hand gently in her own. “San,” Brittany waited until Santana's eyes met hers, “I will never hurt you like that. It sucks that she did that and I can understand you being a little wary but … bisexual doesn't mean unfaithful. She was a cheating bitch. My last relationship ended a little over a month ago because she cheated on me. The one before that … he figured out he was gay. My track record hasn't been the best but … I am not a cheater. I hope you'll give us a chance because, honestly? I like you. You feel different, too, and I'd like to see where this goes.”

Santana searched Brittany's face for any sign of deception or insincerity but couldn't find any. She nodded after a long moment. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Brittany raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah. Let's see where this goes. I really like you, too.”

Brittany grinned. “Good. Then, maybe I can get your phone number?”

Santana laughed and handed Brittany her phone so they could exchange numbers.

“Okay, so, I'm busy with friends tomorrow,” Santana checked the time and groaned, “today. But, how'd you like to have brunch on Sunday and then maybe come over and hang out at my place – maybe watch a movie or, I dunno,” she shrugged, “play a board game? Order take out for dinner?”

“That actually sounds great. I have to work tomorrow anyway. But … text me?” Brittany smiled shyly.

“Absolutely. Come on, my friends are going to be breaking down my door in about six hours. Where do you live?”

“Grayson near Two-Lane Terrace.”

“You're kidding?” Santana gaped at her new friend.

Brittany shook her head. “No. Why?”

“I live on Two-Lane near Fremont. We're practically neighbors.”

Brittany laughed. “Share a cab home?”

Santana stood up, left some money on the table, and offered Brittany her hand. They walked out, hand-in-hand and hailed a cab.

Santana got in and Brittany slid in next to her, laying her head on Santana's shoulder, never letting go of her hand.

Santana smiled to herself.

She had a good feeling about this one.

[maxdreavus]

Am I ~seducing~ you? | Ch. 1*

(Piers x OC Maxine)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: "Piers stopped in his tracks as he watched his friend smile at him while propping herself onto her elbows, and then drop that smile and widen her eyes as they raked up and down his body. 

Oh, does it look bad? he worried to himself.

Then, he noticed Max’s face grow pink. Her ears and what little of her neck he could see followed as her cheeks turned a deep red he wasn’t sure he’d seen on them before.

…That must be a good thing then, yeah? Probably?"

Author's Note: Wowee, what a surprise, another romantically and sexually tense MinMaxShip fic!! (said no one ever)

I had way too much fun writing this. I’ve been dealing with tons of health issues lately, which has made writing kinda hard, but it’s fun being able to whip up silly one-shots here and there when I can.

Hope y’all enjoy x

This is part of a series of one-shots! Please see my SWSH Masterlist for the recommended reading order.

Check it out on ao3!

Next

With battling being so ingrained into Galar’s culture, it was common for the region’s gym leaders to keep their stadiums open on holidays. Why would passionate trainers sit at home with their friends and families on, let’s say Christmas Eve for example, when they could go take on gym leaders as a group activity instead? 

Piers, preferring to do his own thing, would pick and choose which holidays to keep the Dark venue open. He’d take it year-by-year, seeing how he was faring the week of the occasion, and would advertise a celebratory event only if he felt like it’d be worth it. Oftentimes he’d forgo battling entirely, putting on a show instead; but regardless of what he decided on, he never failed to sell the venue out.

The amount of people who showed up proved to be far too overwhelming for Max, so she simply didn’t work holidays. She’d had one incident in her early days as a gym trainer where she tried to push past her immense discomfort and be there for a New Year’s event, only to have to hide away backstage due to a panic attack. It was for the best that she just stayed home. 

She didn’t mind it, despite how isolating it could be. If anything, she found comfort in how quiet their apartment building would become with so many people at one gym or another. 

This day in particular was Halloween, and Piers was readying himself for a concert. He’d always encouraged everyone — his staff included — to show up in costume. The practice kept employee morale higher, attracted more attention from fans and trainers alike, and honestly, Piers just found it fun. The idea of being able to dress any way he wanted to once a year excited him. It made him feel less self conscious when he wanted to experiment with wearing dresses, or different types of makeup, or whatever, because if he was met with criticism he could just blame it on the holiday.

Piers had his fair share of silly costumes, such as pokemon kigurumis or maid outfits. He’d never been the type to use Halloween as an excuse to look sexy like so many people do.

For some reason, he felt bold enough to change that this year.

He was a little self conscious as he inspected his incubus getup in the mirror. His high ponytail was complemented by a headband with two black horns, which held his fringe away from his face; he swapped his black eyeshadow for a deep burgundy, creating a smokey look in unison with his smudged black eyeliner; and he toyed with some faux fangs, ultimately deciding to wear them at least until he got on stage.

His usual pendant adorned his neck, and below it, his torso was practically bare. He had on a black, long-sleeved, mock-neck shirt, but the fabric ended in an upside-down v-shape just above his chest. 

Raihan, being a master of the craft of Looking Slutty, suggested Piers spice it up with some fake tattoos somewhere on his lower torso. He reluctantly did just that, drawing a small black wing with some eyeliner between each hip bone, slightly below his navel. He thought it would be too much but wound up liking it, especially preferring it over sporting a set of wearing fake wings.

He wore tight, black, leather pants, and would slip on some high-heeled leather boots on his way out, as usual. Today, though, he added a whale tail with a burgundy thong beneath it all — a little accent to complement his eyeshadow — and a black leather garter on his upper left thigh.

It wasn’t out of character for Piers to be completely shirtless at some points during his shows just due to sweat, but something about today felt so much more scandalous than usual. Maybe it was the attention he drew to his hips, or maybe it was the fact that he was arriving at the venue already practically topless. Who could say?

He wanted a second opinion on the outfit. Most of Piers’ buddies were gym leaders and busy prepping for their own celebrations, though, so Piers didn’t want to bother any of them.

That only left… Max and Marnie, he supposed. And there was no way in hell he was showing his little sister this outfit.

He sighed, dragging his feet on the short walk between rooms. The star felt a bit nervous presenting himself to Max so scantily clad. She’d seen him topless, but like he’d been thinking, this felt different.  

He stood outside Max’s room and asked, “Oi, you decent?” through the door.

“Yup.”

She was hanging out on her bed. She laid belly-down, her head towards the foot of the mattress and her arms slightly dangling off, with her DS in hand. Not having Halloween plans herself, but wanting to do something, she opted to just wear a fuzzy white cat ear headband with her otherwise unfestive black hoodie and light pink joggers. 

She was in the middle of something, so when Piers entered, she hadn’t looked up. She did greet him, though. 

“What’s up?”

“Need your opinion on my costume.”

“‘Kay, ooone sec,” she murmured. 

Piers admired how Max’s brows furrowed when she was feeling determined. He grinned when he noticed her headband, too. Cute.

He huffed out a near-silent laugh in tandem when Max’s misdreavus made itself visible and floated over to Piers, greeting him with its own set of cat ears equipped. 

He patted its head between the accessory. “Hey, missy.”

It chirped happily before leaving the room to hang out somewhere else in the apartment. Probably the couch, he assumed. That fella really loved a good sofa… or any sofa for that matter. Theirs was pretty beaten up.

Piers shut the door behind the creature. Curious as to what Max was doing while he waited, he was about to make his way towards her with the intention to watch over her shoulder; but right when he took his first step, Max closed the device with a triumphant huff and looked towards him.

Piers stopped in his tracks as he watched his friend smile at him while propping herself onto her elbows, and then drop that smile and widen her eyes as they raked up and down his body. 

Oh, does it look bad? he worried to himself.

Then, he noticed Max’s face grow pink. Her ears and what little of her neck he could see followed as her cheeks turned a deep red he wasn’t sure he’d seen on them before.

…That must be a good thing then, yeah? Probably?

“Erm.” She cleared her throat, fixing the heightened pitch of her voice — which was already pretty high-pitched, normally — before averting her eyes. After a beat she shyly met Piers’. Her gaze started to lower, as if on its own volition, but she rapidly snapped it back up to his face.

…Definitely, Piers concluded.

He flustered her.

This wasn’t one of those common instances where someone did something sweet or embarrassing to her, or where she did something sweet or embarrassing.

He put her in this state purely by looking the way he did.

And that felt fucking incredible to him.

Initially the realization had made him giddy. Then, as he registered that it could be absurdly fun to tease her about this — to tease her right now — his smile widened into something more mischievous. 

Max’s following compliment came out strained. She was fighting for her life to make herself look unaffected. 

(She was failing.)

“Looks good!”

Piers’ brows raised slightly as he flashed his fangs. “Y’think so?” 

“Ye— oooh,” she cut herself off with a whisper, noticing the prosthetics. She could practically feel herself short-circuiting as she tried to figure out what to say. Please stop staring at his teeth, please be normal about this, she begged herself before settling on, “Can you sing in those?”

“Eh…”

Piers looked up a little, tilting his head to either side while he weighed out whether it would be doable or not. While doing so, he began fidgeting the tip of his tongue against one of his pointed teeth. The simple movements of his mouth made Max gulp.

“Probably, but I might take ‘em out anyway.” 

“Hm.” Max slowly nodded, diverting her attention to the floorboards. She crossed her outstretched legs behind her, too. Something about shutting her thighs eased the tension growing between them.

Her overall reaction was all he needed to be way more confident in his attire. Cocky, even, just because it was Max. He cared more about her opinions of him than most other people’s. So, while she seemed to zone out, Piers quietly approached her bed, leaning his palms down onto the corner of it.

He wanted her attention. Wanted to see how many of her buttons he could push like this. He’d accepted his infatuation towards her by now, and to take advantage of the moment to see what kinds of reactions he could pull from her fueled his desires even further.

It made him feel a bit perverted, in a way. 

Was it perverted?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. It’s not like he was hurting her by having a little fun. He knew she’d speak up if he made her uncomfortable at any point. There was very little risk in messing around, and a high reward to be had.

Timidly, Max side-eyed Piers’ exposed form, bringing the collar of her hoodie to her chin — a makeshift hiding spot — before letting her head fully turn. Her heart stuttered at the intense look in Piers’ eyes. He was amused, clearly, given the faint smile that played on his lips while he gnawed the lower one, only one of his fangs visible; but more than that, he watched over her like a predator would its prey. 

He asked lowly, “You like it, then?”

God, yes— “Mhm,” Max nodded.

Piers noted the slight quiver in her breath, and swelling with pride, he continued, “How much?”

As the words came out, he gravitated to the foot of Max’s bed, slowly sinking onto his knees to meet her at eye level, no more than a foot away.

“Oh, um…”

Max looked down in an attempt to escape eye contact, only to realize she was openly staring at his torso. She honed in on his decorated hips for a short moment before blinking a few times, as if to wipe away her racing thoughts. She plastered her view onto his right arm.

“I… I don’t know.” She dropped her hold on her hoodie, then answered, “It’s a good look on you,” pulling a small section of hair over her shoulder to fidget with. As she twirled the brown and pink strands between her fingers, Piers noticed that her feet were kicking in place the slightest little bit.

“You sure? Seems like ya can’t even look at me while you say it,” he teased, lifting Max’s chin with his pointer and middle finger. 

She wanted to fucking die. To vanish from thin air and not have to deal with how pretty he was. How sexy he was. 

But there was no escape.

She could tell from his constant ghost of a smirk that he knew exactly what he was doing. Whether he simply enjoyed toying with her, or he knew he was absolutely melting her, she had no clue — whichever it was, though, it turned her on more than she could possibly begin to comprehend. 

Piers egged her on, her eyes widening a little as he leaned in closer, “I mean, I can tell you with full confidence that you make an adorable kitten.” He gestured his head towards her ears. 

Arc’s sake, please shut up, Max wanted to scold him, her heart threatening to beat its way out of her body. She wanted to close what little of a gap there was between them. To pounce on him. For him to do the same. Anything.  

“Well… I do mean it,” she answered once she was able to compose herself. “I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” Max admitted, with a breathy, nervous waver lingering in her voice.

Piers leaned forward again. “Why’s that?”

Max’s eyes flickered between Piers’ darkened eyes and his lips. “Don’t— erm, don’t you have to leave?”

He shook his head slightly. “I have plenty of time to grill ya if I want to.” His mouth formed into a toothy, meowth-like smile.

“Damn it,” she quietly laughed, looking down, now that Piers’ hold on her had slackened.

He promptly stole her back, tugging her view to his once more while he laughed with her. He thought she had such a pretty smile — especially when her face was so rosy. 

“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better…” he began to speculate as he nearly closed their gap. Their noses were just a few centimeters apart. Max seemed to be in a trance, her eyes following his mouth’s every move while it drew nearer. “I’d say it looks like you want me to kiss you or somethin’.”

Max’s eyes shot up to his while she nervously chewed the inside of her lip between her canines. She looked hopeful. Pleading. Desperate.  

Confident facade aside, Piers felt similarly. 

“…Do you want me to kiss you, Max?” Piers whispered. Despite the softness in its volume, his voice had an almost dangerous tone to it. 

It made Max gasp. She was putty in his hands.

Piers felt himself twitch in his pants at her barely-audible reaction. He wondered when else she’d ever make faces like these, when else she’d sigh such wistful little breaths. Simultaneously, she’d been wondering if this is the sort of demeanor he’d have in bed.

Unable to resist but feeling shy, she nodded the slightest bit. The motion would’ve been unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it.

Piers was on her before she could even register that he’d obliged, eagerly holding her face and smashing his lips against hers. Her surprise manifested in a whimper and filled her with embarrassment while it drove Piers mad with lust.

Max rested a hand atop one of his while she struggled to pull herself up into a kneel. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her as she maneuvered herself to be sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling on either side of Piers as she draped her arms around his neck. She rested one palm against the back of his head while the other gripped the fabric covering his opposite shoulder. 

Max wondered, as their lips and tongues ebbed and flowed, how such a simple costume could have made her so goddamn needy… and why did it seem to have the same effect on him? 

While Max was lost in thought and inebriated by Piers’ kisses, the man stood up, leaned his right palm onto the bed, and weaved his left fingers beneath Max’s loose mane to cup her nape. 

He encouraged her to lay back with nothing but the force of his lips, letting her decide whether or not to invite him closer. She subconsciously tightened her thighs against his hips as she complied, her body willing his to meet hers on its own volition; enticing his core towards hers as he hovered above her, his ponytail tickling her cheek and his breaths fanning her face each time their mouths unclasped. 

Max, knowing Piers could recreate his ponytail in an instant if he wanted to, tangled her fingers through the taught hair. She gripped onto it for dear life and leaned upward as if it would allow her to taste more of him, sighing into his mouth as he used his lips to pin her back down. 

Piers smiled against her, noting that she seemed to really like when he took control. It reminded him of a move he busted out during their first kiss, so he decided to recreate it. A little commemoration of sorts. He drifted his thumb to Max’s chin and — without warning, unlike last time — pulled her mouth open and held it there, leaving her powerless in terms of how long their tongues would be knotted together. 

Just like the first time, Max accidentally whined into his mouth. Just like the first time, Piers breathed out a laugh through his nose. He didn’t halt their connection this time, though, favoring twirling his tongue around hers over the prospect of teasing her. He did hum to express his satisfaction though.

If he heard correctly, Max whimpered again at his reaction, albeit near silently.

And he did hear correctly, but not for the reason he’d thought. Max definitely responded positively to his humming, but she was more so focused on the way he just took the reins and seemed to really enjoy it. She did too. Being teased, being bossed around a bit. Being at his will. All of it made her feel restless.

Max arched her back a little to be closer to Piers.

Piers gripped the curve of her hip and squeezed, firmly pressing his pelvis between her opened legs in tandem.

Max desperately tugged at Piers’ hair with one hand to pull him closer, and gently caressed his cheek with the other.

Piers bit Max’s lip, forgetting he had fangs equipped, and drew a little blood—

Oh. 

He pulled away and brought his hand to her cheek while he made sure she was okay.

She nodded. She kinda liked the pain. She didn’t tell him, but something about the hungry glint in her eye gave it away.

…Oooh!

Piers, with a smirk that met his eyes more than his lips, licked the blood away before stealing another open-mouthed kiss, and it was literally the hottest thing that had ever happened to Max.

This only lasted a few moments longer, both of them mourning the loss of each other’s lips the second they were apart. Still hovering over Max, Piers pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. 

Their chests heaved as they stared at the rotom. They both knew he needed to leave, but Piers heavily considered canceling the show in favor of spending the night snogging Max’s face off. 

Fuck it… I can be late.

Piers gently tossed the device aside, letting it float down on its own, and dove back down. Max happily went along with it for a short while before feeling guilty. 

Damn it.  

“Mm–” she hummed against him, cupping his cheeks to gently nudge him away. “You’ve gotta go, no?”

Piers, while staring at Max’s swollen lips as if they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen, sighed. “Don’t wanna.” He immediately dipped back down, a goofy grin curling his lips upward.

“What?” Max laughed, her nose scrunching up a bit as she stopped him from kissing her again. “I thought you loved Halloween shows specifically.” 

I love you more— “This is more fun.”

The sincerity in Piers’ voice, even if it was lighthearted and silly, had Max wanting him to cancel the show too. 

This was the perfect opportunity to poke fun at him, though. “Taking this whole incubus thing a bit seriously, no?” It wasn’t a complaint, but it had piqued her curiosity.

“Ha!” 

Max basked in Piers’ bright smile, feeling proud that she made him laugh, even if it wasn’t all that funny. Even if she always made him laugh.

Whatever. His laugh was cute and made her happy. That’s all that mattered.

Still grinning, Piers squinted at Max, readying an absolutely lethal blow. He nudged her nose with his, then let his lips ghost hers as he purred, “Why? Is it working?” 

Max, hypnotized, let her eyes drop to where their lips were nearly connected. She tilted her head up a tiny bit, but Piers pulled back, his smile widening. 

“Answer the question, love,” he taunted her before repeating the motions. “Am I seducing you?” He added a subtle nudge of his hips against her mid-sentence for emphasis. Max’s lip quivered as she swallowed back a moan before it could come out.

Max didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to lie, but there was no way in hell she was about to tell him how badly she yearned for him. 

Her silence spoke volumes. Piers, wanting to hit Max with one last razzle dazzle, kissed her again, letting his tongue lead the way after successfully propping her mouth open. It was sloppy, it was deep, it was so hot, and it snatched Max’s fucking soul out of her body — very in-character! — but it also ended way too soon for her liking.

Piers concluded darkly after a moment of silence, “Very good to know,” before standing upright. 

Half of him hoped his bulge wasn’t too noticeable.

Only half.

Max definitely saw something, but knew that if she lingered on it for too long, she’d be begging him to stay home, and to give up all restraint and rules and whatever, and to just fuck her senseless instead — so, she did her best to act like it wasn’t there.

“B-but I didn’t even answer you,” she weakly pointed out as Piers pulled out his messy ponytail, promptly fixing it back up into something tidier. 

“But you didn’t deny it,” he winked at her, “and that’s all the confirmation I need.” 

Satisfied with the havoc he’d wreaked, Piers grabbed his phone and made his way towards the door. 

“Huh?” Max squeaked.

Piers met her eyes over his shoulder. “Byeee,” he sang… And he decided on a whim to snipe her one last time. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

Max was speechless at the implications there as Piers shut the door behind himself. The man was now grinning like a doofus, knowing that he affected Max so immensely, even if it was just this once — at least to his knowledge.

He went into her room initially expecting an honest opinion, then to either hang out a little, or to work on improving his look. Maybe both, if she wanted to help. 

Instead, he was handed some confidence on a silver platter in the form of Max blushing and whimpering for him. Fidgeting because of him. Visibly yearning for him. 

He felt like a million bucks — like he was unstoppable. He was about to put on the best show of his career. He could just feel it.

Max, on the other hand, was stuck staring at the door, completely dumbfounded.

…What the fuck just happened?

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Dissonance Theory

by colossalflea, teddywesworl

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Billy Hargrove, Gareth (Stranger Things), Jeff (Stranger Things), Unnamed Freak (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Androids, Cowboy Steve Harrington, Android Steve Harrington, Technician Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - Westworld Fusion, Westworld Spoilers, Don't Have to Know Westworld Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Existential Crisis, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Past Sexual Assault, Mild Gore, Eventual Happy Ending, Knifeplay, Blood Kink, Painplay, Masochism, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Under-negotiated Kink, Light Dom/sub, Sub Eddie Munson, HBO canceled Westworld so it's my city now, Dom Steve Harrington Words: 29,769 Chapters: 4/4

Summary

In the most exclusive luxury attraction on Earth, Steve Harrington follows a scripted loop of violence and cruelty. He’s the spoiled son of a rancher. He’s a black hat villain for guests to feel good about killing, over and over again. He’s malfunctioning, and repair techs Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley have to figure out why he hesitates to fire his gun. OR: Steve is an android built to entertain rich shitheads in an Old West-themed amusement park, and Eddie is one of the techs who puts him back together after he gets shot. Did you really think teddywesworl wouldn’t write a Westworld AU?

[bhvr]

hey hows it going i watched maxxxine here is my 1.4k SPOILER-FILLED review i typed up literally just as i got home from the theater

“im basically pearl but if i was a screenwriter from florida”

Before even watching the movie, I was INSANELY hyped for this. I love X and Pearl and have rambled on about why I love these movies (especially Pearl) so many times before. It was here! I was in the theater! Watching it! 

And then I finished the movie, went home, and typed this up. 

POSITIVES

MaXXXine feels like it’s set in the 80s without coming off as corny, fake, or inauthentic. It feels like you’re in the city and hanging around the dregs of underground show business. Maxine is a strong-willed, take-no-shit woman who you feel like isn’t just going to survive despite the fucked up people around her, but because of it. She’s rough, skilled, hot, and THAT BITCH. I love her confidence. She never doubts herself for even a second and wants everyone to know it. 

I really liked how the movie was not afraid to make her ruthless. She fought through X and now, years later, there is nothing that is going to stop her from becoming a star. Maxine straight up CRUSHES A GUY’S BALLS (which includes a pretty nasty shot) because he tried to attack her. I love the portrayal of a woman who will do absolutely anything to keep what she’s earned within her grasp, even if it means straight up murder. The scene where she punches the private investigator with her keys, yells, and kicks his car’s shit in? LOVED IT. She’s working and this guy won’t leave her the fuck alone, so fuck the threats of “well I work for a very dangerous guy”, get out of her life! 

Also! I love horror. Obviously. So I enjoyed the references that were scattered throughout the movie that felt pretty natural. Maybe I’m just crazy, but I swore that scene in act three where Maxine is attacked with the plastic bag was a Black Christmas (1974) reference. Also “Texas Porn Star Massacre” is just funny.  

The soundtrack rocks and so do the outfits and cinematography. There’s so many shots in this movie that I loved!! The lighting was fun and really took advantage of how scenes were set in locations like night clubs.

For the most part, the supporting cast is full of great actors. It’s clear Kevin Bacon had fun and thank GOD Giancarlo Esposito got to do a role that wasn’t “cold calculating CEO” or any of that. Lily Collins rocks.

CRITICISMS

However, I do have a number of criticisms about the movie. One thing that stuck out to me the most was how it felt like certain story threads ended up leading absolutely nowhere. No characters, from Maxine’s-seemingly-only-friend to the detectives following her, demonstrate any sort of interest in her past– I fully expected Maxine’s “Maybe she should save herself. I did.” line to provoke curiosity in the female detective, making her wonder what Maxine has gone through to give her such a vindictive “I owe nobody anything because nobody ever saved me” attitude, but it ended up going nowhere. Several lines, details, and scenes that made me think “oh! someone’s going to find out about the farm massacre/her trauma/literally anything!” went nowhere. As for the Night Stalker (which acts almost purely as one of the film’s handful of red herrings), I’m still conflicted on how I feel about it. 

[Side note: why… why was there a line where Maxine’s friend, Leon, sees an unknown guy, says something like “I don’t work in that business anymore, this is a video store”, and then… it’s never addressed. The only info ever shown about the guy is that he’s chill, a good friend, Maxine likes him because he “isn’t trying to fuck her”, he likes horror movies, and works in a video store. He gets murdered after that line and is never mentioned again. Cool.]

I also wish that there had been more scenes of Maxine actually BEING AN ACTRESS. We barely see her on set and from what I remember we never see her actually act in the big shot movie she’s been cast in. C’mon, man. It did not feel like she was struggling to balance work with the shit going on in her life. If anything, her work life felt almost like an afterthought, despite being the thing she’s been working towards her entire life. I know she’s willing to kill and maim without thinking twice for her dreams, but show me the pay-off! Show me her being passionate and glad to be doing her dream job that will launch her into fame!

Speaking of lack of things, I wish Mia Goth had more lines. Shocking, I know. She’s literally THE lead actress we never take our eyes off of and there were at least two scenes where I thought “Why doesn’t she have any dialogue? It’s just the other character talking to themselves and it feels awkward.” She asks her agent if anything she tells him will be legally confidential, and… her lines disappear. No, she does not tell him “back in ‘79 two old people murdered all my friends and tried to kill me so I had to kill them”, but she DOES enlist his help straight up killing a guy. We literally see there’s news evidence of, as the headline reads, “THE TEXAS PORN STAR MASSACRE”. The porno is police evidence. Maxine is known to have been there. It goes nowhere and doesn’t feel threatening in the slightest.

Overall, there are so many intriguing plot threads and storylines this movie could’ve focused on it, but all it did was jump around, unable to settle on one. As a result, all of them suffer.

This movie also suffers from feeling like we’ve gone from an incredibly long act 1 to act 3 in an instant. I LOVE horror movies. This did not feel like it had the rising tension needed in one. I found myself thinking halfway through what turned out to be act 2 “Wow, this is taking a bit to ramp up. I’m sure it’ll be worth it once we’re at the peak of the rising tension” aaaand then we’re in act 3 and catching The #1 Antagonist Of The Movie. Wait, what? Oh. We’re at the conclusion. Cool.

The reveal was lame and felt out of nowhere, to put it bluntly. Please just give me rising tension. Give me Maxine figuring out it’s been her dad all along (if that’s really what we want to go with…) and the drama of it all. Don’t just drop it on my head after throwing red herrings at me for over an hour. 

On another note, I want to circle back around and talk about the acting and the directing. I’m sorry, but the fucking male cop just talking perfectly normally before dying 1 second later took me out of the film. This is a guy who has been shot in the torso and is actively dying– why the fuck is he talking like he ran into Maxine at the grocery store? Further, Mia Goth is a PHENOMENAL actress. We’ve seen Pearl and X, that’s why we’re here, so it’s rather disappointing to see her not get the chance to show emotion. Yes, it has been years since the farm murders and she’s changed as a person, she’s jaded and cold and more cutthroat than ever, but I genuinely can’t tell if it was the intention for her to come off so blank for a chunk of scenes. What happened to her punching the private detective with keys in her fists and leaving him all fucked up and bloody and then kicking his car mirrors in? Show me more of that! Show me her emotion!! You’ve just discovered your father is the one who has been killing those around you and fucking up your life, you’re so shocked and vulnerable that you’re allowing him to take your gun from you without a fight, so WHY–

Anyway. The scenes where Maxine's PTSD is shown felt like they were written with the intention of showing her PTSD without it being intertwined with her character. Once the scenes are over, they're over.

I blame Ti West. A director’s job is to, y’know, direct the actors, so that’s that. But also I don’t think there was any saving Halsey’s performance– sorry, if I was Ti West I would’ve told her to cut the bad Jersey(?) accent before I cut her out of the film entirely. 

I’ll keep my thoughts on how I personally would have written scenes ranging from the death of Maxine’s father to the meeting with her agent to myself, but this felt very much like an early draft that should’ve been beta read by a few more people. There is so much potential in this film, but I genuinely wonder if some part of the production process was rushed and if that’s why the movie is Like This. 

gave it a 3.5/5 on letterboxd

[pkmn-spira]

Maxine Rosewood

Older sister of Argentum City Gym Leader Emile Rosewood, as well as the Spira Region's Pokemon Professor.

About

Age: 38

D.O.B: October 20

Height: 5'8"

Birthplace: Argentum City, Spira Region

Biography

Maxine Rosewood was born in Argentum City, the older sister to Emile Rosewood, the current Gym Leader of the same City. During her youth, Maxine has shown to possess wild curiosities not just toward the world, but towards Pokémon as well.

Hence, said curiosity has led to her eventually embarking on a journey to further understand them, their intricacies, and what makes each and every single individual Pokémon unique, even those that came from the same species, until eventually, she would then study to become a Pokémon Professor, which she did, and as soon as she had gotten enough funding, would establish Axel Research Facility, in which she would be able to further advance her research and study towards Pokemon, more specifically on the regional diversity and differences of one Pokémon toward another of the same species.

Notable Achievements:

-Established the Axel Research Facility in Axel City

-Published several research papers on Pokemon behavior and regional variations

-Contributed to the development of regional Pokedex entries within the Spira Region

-Is undergoing extensive research on the unique phenomena that occur within the Spira Region, as well as the unique Starlink Phenomenon

Pokémon Team

Like her younger brother, Maxine also has her own set of Pokemon, both to assist in her research, and to also defend herself, which was proven helpful during events two years ago.

Spiran Pidgeot (Electric/Flying)

Held Item: Weakness Policy

Ability: Speed Boost

Known Moves: Brave Bird, Wild Charge, Thunder Wave, Roost

Galarian Rapidash

Held Item: Leftovers

Ability: Pastel Veil

Known Moves: Swords Dance, Play Rough, High Horsepower, Psycho Cut

Alolan Muk

Held Item: Black Sludge

Ability: Poison Touch

Known Moves: Gunk Shot, Pursuit, Knock Off, Taunt

Reuniclus

Held Item: Life Orb

Ability: Magic Bounce

Known Moves: Calm Mind, Psychic, Focus Blast, Recover

Elektross

Held Item: Leftovers

Ability: Levitate

Known Moves: Thunder Punch, Drain Punch, Dragon Tail, Coil

Spiran Garchomp (Dragon/Electric)

Held Item: S-Garchompite

Ability: Voltic Current (Physical attacks from this Pokemon has a chance to inflict paralysis) / Galvanic Reactor (Mega Evolution Ability - Creates an Electric Terrain upon entry, also boosts speed and attack in Electric Terrain)

Known Moves: Swords Dance, Outrage, Wild Charge, Dragon Claw

Public vs Private Knowledge

Public:

-Spira's Pokémon Professor

-Older Sister to Emile Rosewood

-Established Axel Research Facility

-Assisted during the crisis caused by Team Andromeda two years ago

Private:

-Currently undergoing extensive research on the Starlink Phenomenon

-Is still somewhat shaken from the events two years ago, as her assistance against Team Andromeda almost cost her her life

-Made sure to keep several other regional Spira forms of other Pokémon a secret, as they changed unpredictably and drastically due to the anomalous properties of several areas in Spira, notably Meteoric Crash Site, Illusory Castle, the recent anomalous changes in Qliphoth Ruins' tree, and Cryptid Isle in its entirety.

[shiveratic]

HIGHWAY TO HELL: PLAYLIST (season one)

HIGHWAY TO HELL: AC/DC

SOUL KITCHEN: THE DOORS

SMOOTH OPREATOR: SADE

MAD ABOUT YOU: HOOVERPHONIC

MOONLIGHT; KALI UCHIS

GURELLIA RADIO: RAGE AGANIST THE MAICHENE

GOO GOO MUCK: THE CRAMPS

PEPPERS: LANA DEL REY

FIENSE: BRUNO MARS

UPTOWN GIRL: BILLY JOEL

HOUSE OF MEMORIES: PANIC! AT THE DISCO

VICTORIOUS; PANIC! AT THE DISCO

AIN'T NO MOUTAIN HIGH ENOUGH: MARVIN GAYE, TAMMI TERREL

AS IF IT'S YOUR LAST: BLACKPINK

EVIL: MELANIE MARTINIEZ

HIGHWAY TO HELL: PLAYLIST (season two)

HIGHWAY TO HELL: AC/DC

LIVING DEAD GIRL: ROB ZOMBIE

GOSSIP: MANESKIN, TOM MORELLO

SHE KEEPS ME UP: NICKLEBACK

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE: GUNS N' ROSES

RIGHT BACK WHERE WE STARTED FROM: MAXINE NIGHTINGALE

MARIA MARIA: SANTANA, THE PRODUCT G&B

SOAP: ENTRO

LUXURIOUS: GWEN STEFIANI

THE CHAIN: FLEETWOODMAC

LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA: RICKY MARTIN

RYTHM NATION: JANET JACKSON

LOVE SHACK: THE B-52'S

MAMMAMIA: MANESKIN

PHYSCO KILLER: TALKING HEADS

WALK THIS WAY: AEROSMITH

HIGHWAY TO HELL: PLAYLIST (season three)

HIGHWAY TO HELL: AC/DC

REMEMBER THE TIME: MICHEAL JACKSON

LOVE SHOT: EXO

SHINUNOGA E-WA: FUJII KAZE

KNEE SOCKS: ARCTIC MONKEYS

HOUSE OF CARDS: BTS

PARTY MONSTER: THE WEEKEND

WHERE DID YOUR HEART GO?: WHAM!

ULTRAVIOLENCE: LANA DEL REY

GET FREE: LANA DEL REY

VICTORIOUS: PANIC! AT THE DISCO

I DID SOMETHING BAD: TAYLOR SWIFT

OFF TO THE RACES: LANA DEL REY

PROM SONG (GONE WRONG): LANA DEL REY

SMARTY: LANA DEL REY

CALL ME BABY: EXO

BECAUSE OF YOU: LANA DEL REY

BLACK SHEEP: METRIC

HIGH BY THE BEACH: LANA DEL REY

HIT THE ROAD JACK: JEFF SAVAC, THE CAERTTS

TREAT ME LIKE A SLUT: KIM PETRAS

THEY WANNA FUCK: KIM PETRAS

RUNAWAY RUNAWAY: MARS ARGO

HOUSE OF BALLONS / GLASS TABLE GIRLS: THE WEEKEND

CHARACTER INFORMATION: 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭

𖤐⭒๋࣭ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

NUMBER ONE: CELESTE PIRCE

NUMBER: UNO

AGE: 24

QUOTE: "There's my pretty girl, long time no see!"

ABILITY: REALITY SHIFTING/ MAINUPLATION, CAN SHIFT PERCIPITIONS OF REALITY, LIKE MOVING THROUGH MIRRORS, MAKING BUILDINGS MOLD, WALK ON BUILDINGS, TURN PEOPLE'S PERCEPTION UPSIDE DOWN, AND ABILITY TO FORM THINGS FROM REALITY MAINUPLATION, USUALLY WEAPONS.

DRAWBACKS: CRIMINALLY INSANE USER, CAN DRIVE PEOPLE THE ABILITY IS USED AGANIST TO THE POINT OF MADNESS , DIZZINESS, OVERUSE OF THE ABILTY CAN CAUSE THE USER TO HAVE SEVERE HALLUICANATIONS AND BLOODLUST.

APPEREANCE: SHE HAS BLACK, SHORT MESSY AND CURLY HAIR. IT STOPS RIGHT AT HER LOWER NECK, AND IS USUALLY TUCKED BEHIND HER EARS. SHE IS FLIPPINO WITH A TANISH, OLIVE SKIN COLOR. SHE HAS A ROUND NOSE AND SLANTED BRIGHT GREEN EYES. SHE HAS LONG EYELASHES AND A MOLE RIGHT BELOW HER BOTTOM LIP. SHE HAS A JAWLINE, BUT HER FACE IS SOFT AND ELEGENT. HER BLACK BANGS ARE USUALLY VISIBLE BUT SPILT IN THE MIDDLE. SHE IS 5'8, AND HER BODY TYPE IS MEDIUM/ BUFF. SHE USUALLY WEARS A BLACK DRESS, WITH PUFFED SLEEVES AND A LITTLE CLEVAGE SHOWING WITH LACE DETAILING. IT STOPS AT HER HIGHER THIGJD BUT SHE HAS A PINSTRIP BLAZER. IT IS USUALLY BUTTONED IN THE MIDDLE AND FLARRED OUT AT THE BOTTOM. SHE ALSO IS USUALLY SEEN IN BLACK HEELS OR PLATFORMS

NUMBER TWO: RUTH PIRCE

NUMBER: DOS'

AGE: PHYSCIALLY (16) MENTALLY (34)

QUOTE: "Someone please shut Celeste the fuck up."

ABILITY: PORTAL MAKING/ CREATION, CAN CREATE PORTALS TO ANY AREA USER DESIRES, USUALLY NO LIMIT UNLESS IT IS BACK IN TIME OR BEHOND USUAL PHYSICS LIKE OUTERSPACE, CAN MAKE PORTALS ON ANY SURFACE HER HAND TOUCHES AND CAN ALSO CREATE THEM WITH HER FEET OR FLICK OF THE WRIST, TECHINCAL TELEPORTATION, CAN PULL RANDOM OBJECTS OR PEOPLE OUT FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PORTAL.

DRAWBACKS: PORTALS ARE NOT ALWAYS STABLE DEPENDING ON THE USERS STATE, VERY RARELY TAKES USER SOMEWHERE DIFFERENT FROM WHERE THEY WANT TO BE, POWER IS PRACTICALLY USELESS IF ARMS AND LEGS ARE TIED UP, POWERS AUTOMATICALLY SHUT DOWN WHEN INTOXICATED.

APPERANCE: RUTH HAS SHORT AND MESSY DARK AND PINK HAIR. IT IS SPLAYED OUT IN ALL DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS AND VERY SOFT LOOKING. HAD BANGS THAT SHADOW OVER HER MAGENTIC AMBER BROWN EYED THAT HAVE HINTS OF WHISKEY GOLD IN THEM. SHE IS MEXICAN AND HAS THE BODY OF A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD DUE TO CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. HAS FRECKLES AND A BUTTON NOSE AND BRUISED LIPS. SHE ALSO HAS HEAVY EYEBAGS. SHE IS ALSO 5'1, AND IS USUALLY SEEN WEARING A ACADEMY UNIFORM. IT HAS A RED, FORMAL BLAZER WITH WHITE OUTLINE AND IS USUALLY BUTTONED IN THE MIDDLE. IT ALSO HAS CUFFS AND A EMBLEM OF A SHIELD ON THE TOP RIGHT CORNER. UNDERNEATH IS A BUTTONED UP WHITE SHIRT WITH A COLLAR AND RED AND GOLD TUCKED IN TIE. FINALLY, SHE USUALLY HAS A RED MID-THIGH RED SKIRT ON WITH WHITE SOCKS AND BLACK MARY JANES.

NUMBER THREE: ASTRO PIRCE

NUMBER: TRES'

AGE: 24

QUOTE: "After everything, it's still you.."

ABILITY: ELECTROMAINUPLATION / ELECTRICTY & LIGHTING MAINUPLATION. CAN SHOCK PEOPLE, LIGHT THINGS UP, ELECTROCUTION, LIGHT MAINUPLATION, ELECTROMAGNETIC WATER, SLIGHT SOUNDWAVE MAINUPLATION AROUND ALOT Of LIGHTS.

DRAWBACKS: USER CAN ACTUALLY BE SHOCKED THEMSELF, CANNOT FEEL BELOW HER LOWER ARMS, NUMB NERVES AND STRAIN, NAUESA, DIZZINESS, USER CAN FACE PREMENT NERVE OR EYE DAMAGE FROM OVERUSE.

APPERANCE: ASTRO USES SHE/THEY PRONOUNS. SHE HAS LONG, WAVY AND DAMP LOOKING WHITE HAIR. IT IS USUALLY TIED UP IN A LOW PONYTAIL AND HER BANGS SHADOW OVER HER EYES. SHE IS KOERAN AMERICAN AND HAS PALE SKIN. SHE ALSO HAS MOLES AND A FAINT SCAR ON HER BOTTOM LIP. HER EYES ARE SLANTED AND A YELLOW- LIGHT HAZEL SHADE. SHE HAS A ROUND JAWLINE AND HAS RED MARKS UNDER HER EYES. THEIR HEIGHT IS AROUND 5'7. THEY ARE USUALLY WEARING BUTTON UP SHORTS THAT HAVE BUTTONS AND THE ENDS OF THEM ARE USUALLY ROLLED UP OR CUFFED. AS FOR A TOP, SHE USUALLY WEARS A WHITE SHIRT WITH STRIPES AND SHORT SLEEVES. SHE ALSO USUALLY HAD SANDALS OR BROWN CONVERSES ON.

NUMBER FOUR: VIOLET PIRCE

NUMBER: CUATRO

AGE: 24

QUOTE: "They're all emotionally stunned children..my god."

ABILITY: INVISIBILTY, THE ABILITY TO TURN INVISBLE AND NONSEEING, CAN TOUCH AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHILE INVISBLE, CAN HOLD UP TO SIX HOURS, SLIGHT REALITY MAINUPLATION LIKE MAINUPLATING REFLECTIONS.

DRAWBACKS: CAN FLICKER IN AND OUT OF BEING INVISBLE AND VISIBLE WHEN WET, TOUCHED BY SOMEONE, OR EXTREME EMOTIONS, CAN BECOME STUCK INVISBLE FOR DAYS AT A TIME IF OVERUSED, EASILY SPOTTED IN SHADOWS.

APPERANCE: VIOLET IS A YOUNGER LOOKING GIRL. SHE HAS BLONDE HAIR THAT IS USUALLY TIED INTO A BRAIDED BUN. SHE ALSO USUALLY HAS A BLUE RIBBON HOLDING IT TOGETHER. HER BLONDE BANGS ARE USUALLY DISHELVED BUT HOVER RIGHT BELOW HER EYEBROWS. SHE HAS TAN SKIN BUT SHE IS WHITE. SHE IS ALSO BRITISH AND HER EYES ARE A DEEP BLUE COLOR. SHE HAS A ROUND JAWLINE AND A BEAUTY MARK NEAR HER RiGHT EYE AND BOTTOM LIP. SHE ALSO IS USUALLY WEARING A BUTTON UP WHITE SHIRT. USUALLY THERE IS A BLUE TIE AROUND IT AND SHE HAS A WHITE AND BLUE CARDIGIN ON. VIOLET IS AROUND 5'4. SHE ALSO USUALLY IS WEARING A LONG WHITE SKIRT OR IT STOPS ABOVE HER KNEES. SHE ALSO HAS WHITE SOCKS ON AND BLUE CHUNKY SHOES, BUT SOMETIMES THEIR BEAT UP CONVERSE.

NUMBER FIVE: HIRAEITH PIRCE

NUMBER: CINCO

AGE: 24

QUOTE: "Can't just pull a dead person out of the ashes to talk to them and have tea, not how it works."

ABILITY:  CAN TALK TO THE DEAD AND USE THEIR ABILITIES, CAN BECOME POSSESED, PHASE THROUGH WALLS (POSSESED), CAN TURN INVISIBLE (POSSESED), ENHANCED FIGHTING ABILITIES, EXTREME FLEXIBILITY, TECHINCAL IMMORTALITY??

DRAWBACKS: PARANOIA AND HALLUICANATIONS, SOMETIMES CAN'T BECOME UNPOSSESSED AFTER A WHILE, SOMETIMES GHOSTS AREN'T FRIENDLY, FATIGUE, NAUSEA, WEAK IMMUNE SYSYEM.

APPERANCE: HIRAEITH HAS SHORT, CURLY BLACK HAIR. IT IS USUALlY TUCKED BEHIND HER EARS, SHOWING OFF THE MULTIPLE PIRCEINGS SHE HAS. SHE IS ONLY 5'3. SHE IS MIXED WITH KOERAN, ITALIAN AND MEXICAN. SHE HAS A RASPY AND TIRED SLIGHT ITALIAN ACCENT, FROM HER TIME IN ITALY AND BEING RAISED THERE BEFORE SHE WAS ADOPTED. SHE HAS BLUEISH INDIGO EYES WITH A ALMOST PURPLE UNDERTONE. SHE HAS A SHARP JAWLINE AND ALMOST SCARY APPERANCE. SHE USUALLY IS WEARING A BLACK DRESS OR SWEATER. ALTHOUGH, SHE USUALLY WEARS A TIGHTFITTING BLACK LONG SLEEVE SHIRT WITH WHITE LACE DETAILING. SHE ALSO WEARS A PAIR OF BLACK LOWAISTED JEANS OR A BLACK JEAN SKIRT. USUALLY HER LEGS ARE COVERED BY LEGGINGS, OR FISHNETS AND HIRAEITH USUALLY WEARS COMBAT BOOTS.

NUMBER SIX: CHIYO PIRCE

NUMBER: SEIS'

AGE: 24

QUOTE: "SOMEONE TELL RUTH TO STOP SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY!!"

ABILITY: SEDUCTION / THE ABILITY TO MAKE ANYONE FALL IN LOVE WITH HER, WHEN IN LOVE PEOPLE BEND TO HER WILL, MIND MAINUPLATION, HYPNOTIZIM, SELF-SACFRICE.

DRAWBACKS: PEOPLE THE ABILITY IS USED ON USUALLY BECOME OBESSED WITH HER, VICTIMS USUALLY COMIT MURDER IN HER 'NAME', PARANOIA.

APPERANCE: CHIYO HAS SOFT, TIED BACK PINK HAIR. IT IS USUALLY TIED BACK INTO TWO SMALL PIGTAIL BRAIDS AND PINK FLOWERS ARE TIED INTO IT. HER LOOKS ARE OTHERWORDLY, ALMOST ANGELIC. SHE IS KOERAN AND HAS PALE SOFT SKIN, SHE HAS ALOT OF MOLES AND BEAUTY MARKS ON HER FACE. SHE HAS BANGS THAT ARE DISHELVED AND HOVER ABOVE HER EYEBROWS. CHIYO ALSO HAS A BUTTON NOSE. HER FACE IS DIAMOND SHAPED WITH A TOUCH OF SOFTNESS TO IT. SHE USUALLY WEARS DRESSES, ONES THAT ARE WHITE AND HAVE FLOWER DESIGNS. SHE ALSO USUALLY HAS PUFFY SLEEVES AND SOME OF HER CHEST IS SHOWING. ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF HER NECK, SHE HAS A HEART SHAPED BRITHMARK. SHE ALSO USUALLY HAS WHITE TIGHTS OR FISHNETS ON. SHE FINALLY, USUALLY HAS GREEN PLATFORMS OR CONVERSES ON.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆

NUMBER SEVEN: NOEL PIRCE

NUMBER: SIETE'

AGE: 24

QUOTE: "For the last time, I don't eat brains."

ABILITY: LIVING DEAD GIRL / ZOMBIE ANATOMY,  HAS THE APPERANCE OF A ZOMBIE (CLASSIFIED INFORMATION), TELEKNISIS, CAN WITHSTAND MUCH MORE THEN A AVERAGE HUMAN (NOT IMMORTAL), CAN CONTROL PLANTS, HYPNOTIZIM.

DRAWBACKS: CHRONIC BODY ACHES AND MIGRAINES, BLOODLUST (DOESNT EAT BRAINS), BELIVING THAT SHE'S IMMORTAL, SOMETIMES HAS EPLITIC EPISODES, POTS, VERY LOW IRON.

APPERANCE: NOEL HAS THE APPERANCE OF A ZOMBIE, HER SKIN IS A FAINT PALEISH GREEN. SHE HAS RATTED, WHITE HAIR WITH A FEW GREEN HIGHLIGHTS. SOME PEOPLE SAY THEY SPOTTED DRY BLOOD IN IT. SHE HAS FADED GREEN EYES, ALMOST LOOKING BLIND. SHE HAS A LARGE BONE MARK IN HER NECK BUT IS USUALLY COVERED WITH HER TURTLENECK. SHE HAS A ROUND JAWLINE AND SHARP NOSE. SHE IS AROUND 5'5. SHE HAS A BONE STICKING OUT OF HER HIP, AND LEFT WRIST. SHE ALSO HAS ALOT OF NASTY SCARS BUT SHE COVERS HERSELF UP. SHE IS USUALLY SEEN WEARING A GREEN OR BLACK TURTLE NECK, LONG SLEEVE SHIRT. SHE ALSO WEARS BLACK AND PALE GREEN ARMY SKIRTS. HER LEGS ARE USUALLY COVERED IN TIGHTS AND BEAT UP, DIRTY SHOES.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆#

NUMBER EIGHT: CARMEN PIRCE

NUMBER: OCHO

AGE: 24

QUOTE: “Oh no darling, I just want your head on a pike! That’s all!”

ABILITY: FIRE MAINUPLATION, CAN CREATE FIRE OUT OF NOTHING, CAN MAKE THINGS BLOW UP, FIRE CONTROL, CAN TOUCH FIRE WITHOUT BEING BURNED, CAN AIM FIRE AT PEOPLE, SET BUILDINGS ON FIRE.

DRAWBACKS: WHEN USER FEELS INTENSE EMOTIONS LIKE EMBRASSMENT OR ANGER FLAMES CAN BECOME OUT OF CONTROL, UNSTABLE EMOTIONS, POWERS SHUT DOWN WHEN INTOXICATED, POWERS EASILY ACTIVATED.

APPERANCE: SHE HAS BROWN, LONG HAIR, IT IS IN A BLOWOUT AND WOLF-CUT STYLE. SHE IS MEXICAN AND HAS BROWNISH RED EYES. SHE IS AROUND 5'6. AND SHE HAS A LARGE SCAR THROUGH HER LEFT EYE. SHE HAS MORE SHARP FEATURES AND HAS A DIAMOND FACIAL SHAPE. SHE HAS A ROUND NOSE WITH FRECKLES. CARMEN USUALLY WEARS A RED, LONG SLEEVE SHIRT. USUALLY WITH A LACE DETAILING AND THE SLEEVES START PAST HER COLLARBONES. SHE ALSO HAS ON EITHER A JEAN SKIRT OR BLACK OR RED BAGGY PANTS. USUALLY WEARING RED CONVERSES AS WELL. SHE HAS ANOTHER SCAR IN HER CUPIDS BOW LIP. HER BROWN HAIR IS USUALLY PUT HALFWAY UP WITH A HAIRCLIP AND HER BANGS ARE BLOWN OUT AND PUSHED TO THE SIDE.

CHARACTERS AESTETHICS; 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𖤐⭒๋࣭

NUMBER ONE: CELESTE PIRCE (THE INSANITY)

NUMBER TWO: RUTH PIRCE (THE WEARY)

NUMBER THREE: ASTRO PIRCE (THE RADIANCE)

NUMBER FOUR: VIOLET PIRCE (THE LONELINESS)

NUMBER FIVE: HIRAEITH PIRCE (THE BELDAM)

NUMBER SIX: CHIYO PIRCE (THE AMOR)

NUMBER SEVEN: NOEL PIRCE (THE WALKING DEAD)

NUMBER EIGHT: CARMEN PIRCE (THE BLAZE)

END: ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚