#Michael is the tallest

[stxr-spider]

I made 5sos gingerbread 🫶 (totally not especially proud of the ash cookie)

[cinematicendevaourz]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #CVReview

I took a trip to Pooler, GA and I gotta say CGA was right yet again : anything outside of ATL is the real Georgia, and ... yeah, the whole thing is a flyover.

The caucazoid pop. here are standoffish and rude. The negroids, more trusting and kinder than anywhere else in the States. That's not always a good thing, though ...

Anyways, after an uneventful day at the Staff Zone day labor dispatch office in SAV, I recognized that the city was more interested in taking money from me than helping me make it, so I made quick moves to get a ticket out of here to the Carolinas and make a trip to "The Tallest IMAX Screen" in the world - because I figured it was now or never, since I will noy be back to GA after this final trip - since there's nothing here.

As a Hollywood bred cinephile (and a REGAL unlimited subscriber) I have to say IMAX been a rip-off. I usually enjoy other PLF screens because their wider (i.e. RPX, Cinemark XD ...) and cost less at the box office.

IMAX may be overhyped but I sat in those small as seats at the El Capitan when "Cap: Civil War" dropped, so nothing was stopping me from getting this done, even the bloated $26/ticket price tag. Or the fact the only two films playing this week was that redneck Speilberg flick "Twisters" and Tim Burton's chick flick "Beetlejuice Beetlejuice".

I chose the latter.

Donna Summer just cant win since her catalogue went up for grabs, I guess. First that horrible performance by an overweight Summer Walker in "Spinning Gold" now Tim Burton lifts "Macarthur Park" and turns it into the new "Day-O" bullshit.

The Soul Train bit was very out of place and looked like cultural appropriation as well too.

So this is what happens when Burton tries to get woke and diverse enough only to have negroids in his film as dancing/singing sambos.

The only people in the cast who weren't annoying were Jenna Ortega (who just played another bratty teen) and Willem Dafoe, who was actually flexing another side of his acting chops I hadn't seen before in pure comedy, not unintentional.

Michael Keaton was as off-putting as he always was and the fact that he was still trying to marry a young Wynona Ryder in the first film is still weird. That sequence is repeated here nearly three times over with the marriages between mother and daughter in "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" , but it just seems like an over-correction.

*While the dream sequence was occurring by the way, I couldn't help but think that Keaton and Ryder in the film must have looked oddly like Burton and Bonham-Carter on their wedding day.

The jokes were woke and tacky. Jenna Ortega went the " la raza " route with her love interests being pale as ever, while she did Brazil-face for some reason.

Theroux was the picture of the spineless manipulative, dickface women have to settle with marrying today in Western culture, since real men like myself aren't falling for that trap anymore. O'Hara was the same annoying opportunist in the first film, now shedding light on Ryder's issues raising an "obnoxius, goth girl" herself.

Yeah, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" is Mommy-Daughter matinee. A ageist marriage fantasy for little goth girls everywhere who want to bring bad boy demons home and a loose cautionary tale on why they should not.

Even with some cool animated claymation sequences (the plane crash, Saturn's moon, the snake monster), Burton's bread and butter in "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice" was not enough to make a great film.

Barely a laugh from the audience. Some of the marriage jokes knocked it out the park, but only because they write themselves.

The rest of the audience could give a shit less about dated references and Donna Summer, like I could give a shit less about this movie.

And how did Monica Belluci get casted. I liked the live Sally Finkelstein idea, but at this point Franken-Weenie pastiches are old hat for Burton and no amount of nostalgia could save this picture for those of us who enjoyed his other projects or I believe for those who actually liked the first film in this duology.

The only reason I saw this film was because it was an excuse to visit The World's Tallest IMAX (I swear the one's in NY, CA, and FL are bigger and better). Other than that I don't believe "Beetlejuice Beetlejuice" should be viewed in any format, PLF or otherwise.

Seeing "The Crow" again, but in IMAX would have been a better choice aesthetic wise

- but the box office pulled it for this waste of money - from the studio to every audience seat filled.

-

C.V.R. The Bard

5th/Sept. 2k24

[ashtonsunshine]

via Luke's twitter and Instagram story. 21st July 2023

[social-mockingbird]

Back on my subtle cosplaying at work spiel and this week it’s The Magnus Archives—today it’s Michael Distortion Monday, which proved hard to accomplish on a mostly punk academia wardrobe (saving my Hawaiian shirts for the Tim Stoker day)

[onlineviolence]

For Michael: Is 'mike drop' a thing? Like, could a character pick up and drop Michael like a microphone?

he is Far too large for that. and heavy

[ur-stepdad]

tried to find the old ass WWE Dirt Sheet youtube channel and one of the things that pops up is "cm punk suspended from raw by triple h"

1. i thought he was already fully transitioned from wwe to aew so does this even mean anything

2. why is triple h allowed to suspend anyone from anything other than the top rope? did mcmahon finally step down? that doesn't seem like something he would do unless he couldn't keep going anymore

2b. if vince did step back then where does shane-o mac fit into all this?

[peppermintfreak]

What a wonderful group of individuals

[hypnogold]

Maple Heights 5: Hollow Creek

Now the whole family was united, they needed to spread this to the other surrounding neighborhoods, like Hollow Creek.

The glossy black rubber RV rolled silently down the quiet suburban streets of Hollow Creek, its polished surface gleaming like liquid under the midday sun. Inside, the family sat in perfect, calculated silence. Each of them wore their black latex Fred Perry polos, their unique numbers stitched in bright yellow just above the heart: Tyler, Luke, Michael and their fathers, who commanded the vehicle with calm authority.

The interior of the RV was designed for one purpose: transformation. Racks of freshly pressed polos hung in precise rows, their faint musky scent filling the air. A hidden compartment held fog machines for rapid deployment, and a polished mirror on one wall reflected the family’s pristine unity.

As the RV turned into a parking lot near a local park, Tyler leaned forward, peering through the tinted window. “There,” he said, nodding toward a group of three young men playing basketball on a worn court. “They’re perfect.”

Luke smirked, adjusting the collar of his polo. “Quick and easy.”

Their father brought the RV to a stop and turned in his seat, his calm, commanding gaze sweeping over his sons. “You know what to do. Be precise, and leave an impression.”

The door hissed open, and Tyler and Luke stepped out into the sunlight, their polished black polos gleaming as they approached the court. The basketball players stopped mid-game, their attention drawn to the brothers.

“Hey,” Tyler called out, his voice smooth and confident. The tallest of the group, a lean guy with a buzzcut and a loose tank top, dribbled the ball idly as he sized them up.

“What’s up?” the guy asked, his tone wary but curious. His two friends exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of the matching polos and calm demeanor of the newcomers.

Luke gestured toward the players, holding up a folded Fred Perry polo. “You guys look like you know what teamwork’s about,” he said with a smirk. “Ever tried something that brings you even closer?”

The musky scent from the folded polo drifted toward the group, subtle but unmistakable. One of the players wrinkled his nose. “What is that?”

Tyler stepped forward, holding out another polo, the yellow number 112 stitched boldly on the chest. “It’s not just a shirt,” he said smoothly. “It’s unity. Brotherhood. You’ll feel it the moment you put it on.”

The tall guy chuckled nervously, glancing at his friends. “Yeah, I don’t think—” But his voice trailed off as his gaze locked on the shimmering black fabric. His hand moved almost involuntarily, reaching out to touch it.

The moment his fingers brushed the polo, his expression shifted. His loose tank top began to dissolve, the fabric breaking apart into fine threads that evaporated into the air. In its place, the black latex polo began to form, spreading across his chest like liquid. His gym shorts followed, disintegrating into nothing as sleek black trackpants took their place.

“What the—” one of his friends stammered, stepping back, but Tyler held up a hand, his calm smile unwavering.

“Relax,” he said softly. “You’ll see.”

The tall guy’s body straightened, his posture becoming perfect, his eyes briefly unfocused before a serene smile spread across his lips. He turned to face his friends, his voice smooth and confident. “It feels... right.”

The yellow number 112 glowed faintly on his back as he gestured toward Tyler. “You should try it.” They both shot their black cum into their rubber pants.

Luke wasted no time, stepping toward the second player, a stocky guy with a headband and a skeptical look. “Just hold it,” Luke said, offering him a polo. “You don’t even have to put it on if you don’t want to.”

The stocky guy hesitated, but curiosity—and the strange, intoxicating musk in the air—got the better of him. He grabbed the polo, and the moment his hands closed around it, the transformation began. His headband slipped off as his hair styled itself into a clean, modern cut. His T-shirt and gym shorts melted away, replaced by the sleek polo and trackpants.

His eyes fluttered shut as his breathing steadied, and when he opened them again, they gleamed faintly. “This is...” he began, but words seemed unnecessary. His serene smile matched his friend’s, and the yellow number 113 glowed proudly on his back. Transforming others makes Luke so aroused, he couldn't contain himself anymore..

The last player, a wiry guy with shaggy hair, took a step back, his hands raised. “No way,” he said. “I don’t know what you guys are selling, but I’m not—”

Tyler moved swiftly, placing a folded polo in the guy’s hands before he could finish his sentence. The fabric’s warmth seeped into his skin, and his resistance faltered. His shaggy hair shortened into a crisp style, and his hoodie and jeans began to dissolve.

“Just let it happen,” Tyler said calmly, his voice almost hypnotic.

Moments later, the wiry guy stood transformed, his new polo gleaming in the sunlight. His expression was serene, his yellow number 114 standing out against the black latex. He turned to Tyler and Luke, his voice steady and sure. “What’s next?”

The brothers stepped back, admiring their work. The three newly transformed players sat on the ground, their faces calm, their bodies radiating confidence. Tyler nodded in approval. “You’ll know what to do.” First spread the black cum with each other, then find others...

Without another word, he and Luke returned to the RV, the door hissing shut behind them. As the vehicle pulled away, the players remained on the court, their serene smiles never fading. The transformation wasn’t just physical—it was mental, emotional, primal.

Inside the RV, Luke smirked, glancing at Tyler. “Fast, clean, and effective.”

Tyler leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. “Hollow Creek won’t know what hit them.”

As the RV disappeared down the road, the players on the court began to move, their laughter and camaraderie replaced with a strange, shared purpose. The musk of the polos lingered in the air, and each of them felt a growing, insatiable need to recruit more.

The sleek black RV hummed softly as it pulled to a stop near the bus stop on the outskirts of Ridgefield. Inside, Tyler adjusted the collar of his sleek black latex Fred Perry polo, its glossy material catching the dim light of the cabin. Beside him, Luke smirked as he secured one of the new black half-face masks over his jaw. The mask, sleek and gleaming, gave an intimidating aura of mystery, its yellow trim adding an edge of authority.

“These guys are rowdy,” Tyler remarked, peering through the tinted window at the seven men gathered under the flickering streetlights. They were laughing loudly, shoving each other playfully, dressed in flashy shirts, jeans, and sneakers. “But they’re perfect.”

Luke spun a folded polo in his hand. “They won’t be rowdy for long.”

Their father, seated calmly at the RV’s wheel, gave a single nod. “Be quick. Be precise. And clean up after yourselves.”

The RV door hissed open, and Tyler and Luke stepped out, their movements deliberate and commanding. The laughter at the bus stop faltered as the brothers approached, their black latex polos and trackpants gleaming under the flickering lights. The group fell quiet, their earlier energy replaced by cautious curiosity.

“Evening, fellas,” Tyler said smoothly, his voice cutting through the silence with an air of calm authority. “Big plans tonight?”

One of the men, a tall guy in a red bomber jacket, grinned but crossed his arms defensively. “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

Luke held up a folded polo, its latex surface shimmering faintly in the dim light. “Because we’ve got something better than whatever party you’re headed to.”

The group exchanged glances, a few of them chuckling nervously. “What, like some team or cult thing?” asked another, a lean guy with a baseball cap turned backward.

“It’s not a cult,” Tyler said, stepping closer. “It’s a brotherhood. Something bigger than a party. Bigger than anything you’ve ever been part of.”

The faint musk of the polos began to waft through the air, subtle yet insistent. One of the men, a shorter guy in a leather jacket, tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “What’s with the shirts?” he asked, gesturing toward the polo in Luke’s hand.

Luke smiled. “It’s more than a shirt. It’s a chance to be part of something real. Just try it.”

The man hesitated, his fingers twitching as he reached for the polo. The moment his hand touched the fabric, his posture softened, and his breath hitched. Without a word, he pulled the shirt over his head. His leather jacket and T-shirt unraveled into threads, dissolving into the air, replaced by the sleek black latex of the Fred Perry polo. His jeans melted into matching trackpants, and his sneakers took on a polished sheen.

Luke stepped forward and held up a half-face mask, fitting it snugly over the man’s lower face. The glossy material molded perfectly to his jawline, leaving his eyes visible but adding a sharp, commanding presence. He stood straighter, his expression serene yet focused.

“This is…” he began, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. “This is incredible.”

His friends stared in shock, a few stepping back.

“What the hell just happened?” the guy in the red bomber jacket demanded, his tone rising. “What’s going on here?”

Tyler turned to the group, his calm demeanor unwavering. “Relax,” he said. “This is your chance. You’ve all felt it—you’re not fully satisfied with where you are. This will change everything.”

“Like hell it will!” the guy in the bomber jacket said, stepping back and pulling one of his friends with him. “You’re not putting that weird cult shirt on me.”

Luke smirked, tossing a polo to another man in the group—a stocky guy in a graphic tee. “You don’t have to fight it,” he said. “You already want it.”

The stocky guy caught the polo reflexively, his hands trembling as the fabric’s warmth seemed to seep into his skin. “I... I don’t know,” he stammered, his resolve faltering as the musk surrounded him.

“Don’t!” the bomber jacket guy shouted. “Don’t put it on!”

But it was too late. The stocky guy slipped the polo over his head, his graphic tee dissolving into nothingness as the transformation took hold. His jeans morphed into black trackpants, and his face relaxed into a serene smile as Luke fitted a half-face mask over his jaw.

The bomber jacket guy cursed, yanking the friend closest to him. “We’re getting out of here!” he snapped. But the transformed guys were faster and his face relaxed into a serene smile as Luke fitted another half-face mask over his face.

Before they could escape, the distant sound of an engine grew louder. The bus rounded the corner, its headlights cutting through the dark. It screeched to a stop at the curb, the doors hissing open. A few passengers sat inside, mostly young men returning home or heading out.

Tyler and Luke exchanged a glance. “Time to expand,” Tyler said with a smirk.

As the bomber jacket guy and his friend hesitated, Luke stepped onto the bus, carrying a fresh stack of polos. The musky scent spread quickly as he moved down the aisle. “Relax,” he said to the confused passengers. “You’re about to be part of something great.”

One by one, he handed out polos, his calm yet insistent voice guiding each passenger. A few resisted at first, but as the musk thickened, their hesitation melted away. They pulled on the shirts, their casual clothes dissolving as the sleek black latex took over. Each man’s demeanor shifted, their faces serene as half-face masks were fitted over their jaws.

Luis, a warehouse worker, had been slumped in his seat, exhausted from another long night of loading trucks. His neon safety vest and worn-out boots had marked him as someone used to hard labor. As the transformation took over, his vest and steel-toed boots melted away, replaced by the gleaming black latex uniform. Now upright and composed, Luis’s sharp gaze peers out from behind the glossy mask, his exhaustion replaced by a newfound energy.

Mark had just finished a grueling workout at the local gym, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Dressed in a muscle tee and athletic shorts, he had boarded the bus to head home. The musky mist overtook him quickly, and his gym clothes faded into black trackpants and the polished Fred Perry polo. With the half-face mask securely in place, Mark’s athletic physique now exudes a disciplined, intimidating aura, his focus no longer on weights but on spreading the brotherhood.

The bus driver was the last to resist, gripping the wheel tightly. “You’re not getting me into this!” he shouted.

Tyler stepped forward, his voice low and commanding. “You’re already ours. Just give in.”

The driver’s hands shook as Luke handed him a polo. With trembling fingers, he slipped it on, his uniform dissolving into the latex material. As the mask was placed over his face, he slumped back into his seat, his resistance gone.

The transformed passengers stood as one, their black polos and half-face masks gleaming under the bus’s fluorescent lights. Tyler stepped off the bus, his expression calm and satisfied. The seven recruits from the bus stop now stood in perfect formation beside the RV, their earlier resistance forgotten.

“You know your mission,” Tyler said, addressing the group. “You’ll spread the brotherhood. Swift and precise.”

The recruits nodded, their voices muffled by the masks but filled with conviction. “Yes.”

The bus doors closed, and it rolled away into the night, its passengers now unified in their purpose. In the distance, the faint sound of sirens began to echo.

Back in the RV, Luke smirked as he removed his mask. “Looks like someone called the cops.”

Tyler leaned back in his seat, unbothered. “Let them come. We’re just getting started.”

The RV pulled away, leaving behind a faint trail of musk and the unmistakable mark of the brotherhood’s presence.

[eyelambspider]

𝟏𝟎. 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 || 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

Day 10 of Kink/Creeptober! Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : michael myers!könig x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : könig returns home for halloween looking for blood. Little do you know, little trick-or-treater, its not a costume he's wearing. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.2 k 𝐚/𝐧 : y'all liking the halloween spirit i had in this one? 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mentions of blood/gore/death, its still kinda cute/scary bc why not? i swore again in this one

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃�� 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒. The orange glow from the jack-o-lantern candles casted an eerie glow on the rain-slick pavement. The streetlights had flickered on an hour ago and midnight had slowly passed by.

Left to right, no matter where you looked, it seemed like the peak of Halloween night had come and gone. House lights were slowly flickering off, and only a few teens were roaming the sidewalks in packs. Most of the kids had gone to sleep already, abandoning the candy hunt while their parents snuck out to go to parties and drank themselves silly.

You sighed, the breath becoming a puff of frost in front of your eyes. The brisk fall air lapped at your skin causing your legs to prickle with goosebumps.

In the end, this would all be worth it!

Sure, some houses were turning their lights off already. The families within calling it quits and heading to bed. But you had stayed out, looking for those ghoulish green lights even if your nose had turned pink from the cold.

Who could say no to a bag full of free candy? Most people didn't mind you weren't a kid anyway.

You trekked across the sidewalk, glancing at a house at the corner of the street. It was dark, but the yellowing lawn was loitered with homemade decorations. Plastic skeleton's strung up to the barren trees, foam headstones peaking out of the dirt, and even a little sheet of artificial fog was still puffing along the pavement.

This was what Halloween was: just people enjoying scary stuff and having child-like fun.

Distracted, you rounded the corner only to be bombarded by a swarm of people. It was a reflexive dance to avoid everyone. Bumping into a woman in a sexy tiger costume, nearly avoiding a zombies elbow.

You yelped out small apologizes as the group brushed past you in a blur of cheesy costumes. The lot of them giggling at you until you were spun around, narrowly avoiding a cowboy who smirked at you, purposefully knocking against the black bag of candy in your hand.

Before you could call out the soft injustice, or even defend yourself from their mocking laughter... Your back slammed into what felt like a brick wall.

The impact stole your breath away, and you quickly turned on your heels to face the tallest man you'd ever seen. His gaze hidden, but the black veil on his head was tilted ominously towards you.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" you quickly blurted out, feeling embarrassment wash over you.

The stranger watched motionlessly as your cheeks reddened-not from the cold- and you hung your head just in time to see a few pieces of your candy sprawled out on the curb in front of his boots.

You crouched down, beginning to gently scoop up the broken chocolate bars and shattered lollypops.

You didn't dare look up at him while you did. The way he was just standing there instead of following his friends...

You subtly peered over your shoulder, watching as the group of laughing party-goers quickly disappeared around the corner.

He found it amusing when you apologized again. You were dressed like a little vampire or something.

How... charming.

An unsettling grin splitting across his features as he watched you squirm under his intense gaze.

What was with this guy?

You quickly tried to grab your sweets, the awkward, agonizing seconds he spent staring at you felt like an eternity. That is, until he crouched down, taking a knee next to you. His large hand reached out to pick up the last pack of gumballs, bringing it up for you to take.

"Thanks," you mumbled quickly. Even when he was knelt, he was still such a huge man. The thought made you swallow nervously, reaching out for the gum when you finally saw it.

His calloused palm was drenched in a slick crimson, smearing against the plastic wrap of your rainbow gumballs. You froze, eyes flickering up to really look at him this time.

Although his face was shrouded in a black fabric mask, his blue eyes seemed to glow in the streetlights, boring a hole through you, silently daring you to take it from him.

He was wearing a dusted navy janitor's jumpsuit, a knife held faithfully by his side in his other hand. The blade coated in the same, gore-y liquid. His grip on the weapon so tight his knuckles were bone white.

Just when you thought this guy couldn't be serious, the smell hit you.

The pungent odor of death wafted off of him in waves, the sharp scent of decay nearly making you gag in disgust. He wondered what exactly you would do when you found out that it wasn't fake blood, or another cheap costume he was wearing.

König watched the color slowly drain from your face when you realized.

What a smart little Maus you were.

Your body went onto autopilot, saving your brain from experiencing the unbridled terror of the situation fully. He wasn't just wearing a Michael Myers costume in horrible taste for the murders that happened last Halloween... he was...

Tentatively, your trembling hand reached out and grasped the plastic wrapper from him. "Tha-Thank you," the words tumbled out quietly, as if the voice didn't belong to you anymore.

He watched as you gripped tightly onto the bag of bloody gumballs with a squelch that made you cringe. The crimson smearing against your palm as you tried desperately not to drop it in front of him again.

Before you could dart up to your feet, he reached out and harshly wretched your face towards him with that same bloody hand. You nearly screamed. Whatever the fuck stopped you from doing it, you had to thank.

He squished the softs of your face and chin in his rough hand, squeezing so hard you thought he would end it there and snap your jaw in half.

But his eyes just bore holes into yours, reveling in the pure horror that emanated off you in droves.

Maybe people sleeping in the safety of their houses would hear your screams in time. Or maybe the group of jerks would come back before he crushed your skull in. Maybe, just maybe you had a chance of fighting him off.

He saw all those thoughts flash across your eyes without a word.

Belying the strength you both knew he possessed, his grip softened from its bruising nature. The thick pad of his thumb lifted up to brush the corner of your mouth with a terrifying smile. He had hoped to wipe away the fake blood from there, but it only served to make your costume more authentic.

The towering horror-story of Haddonfield finally let go of your jaw. He took one last look at your face, blank, as if you'd seen a ghost... Before you stood and ran away, not daring to drop another piece of candy.

He watched your retreating form with mild interest, tilting his head as he considered.

The same rage bubbling up under his skin, itching to drain the life from someone's eyes again.

König's attention flickered momentarily before he rounded the corner, following after the group he had previously been stalking. Their laughs still echoing across the empty street.

He'd have the rest of Halloween night to hunt you down, and he'd hoped it would be just as fun.

[marlequinncos]

This past weekend, I was showing my friend my Marko jacket and explaining the different components. I was wondering aloud why these specific tapestries were picked for it and she goes “what if each one represents one of the other members of the Lost Boys?” It got me thinking, and it turns out that theory actually works.

The jacket is made up of five tapestries: two are the pinups, and the other three are velvet rugs, all from the same Italian company. The three velvet ones depict a peacock, a matador and a bull, and a leopard. 

Paul - The Peacock: The most obvious of the three. Like a peacock, Paul is loud, showy, and in-your-face. He spends most of his screen time in the movie strutting around, “peacocking” for everyone watching.

Dwayne - The Leopard: Dwayne's outfit has several leopard motifs in it, from the one painted on his jacket to his earring and necklace made of animal teeth and claws. He’s also the most physically intimidating of the boys, being the tallest and buffest. 

David - The Matador:  Matadors rule the ring, controlling the crowd, their assistants, and the animal they’re fighting. They’re a ringleader, like David. The way David lures Michael in is both strategic and theatrical, like a matador waving the red flag to encourage the bull to follow and charge when he desires. And in the end, how does David die? Impaled on horns, having miscalculated and gotten too close to a raging bull (Michael in this metaphor). 

Is this a stretch? Maybe. But costumes are an excellent way to silently convey character and tell stories. I think this set of headcanons is a really fun train of thought, and would explain why Marko chose those specific tapestries for his jacket.

[leosxrealm]

-ᴋɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ-

pairings: M. Kaiser x male! reader

warning(s): Kaiser, a teensy bit of angst, fluff, enemies to lovers (kinda), a little bit of cursing

a/n: this is pretty much self indulgent. i thought of a tall reader when i was writing it, although i’m not as tall as Kaiser lol. the Kaiser brain rot is real T_T this looked way better in my head

wc: 2.4k

!not proofread!

nobody infuriated you more than Michael fucking Kaiser.

not only did he pretend to be superior to you; he looked down on every walking, talking, living creature. he never failed to make your blood boil, especially, when he spoke to you like you were nothing more than a peasant, born to serve him. you were a calm, level-headed person; but even you found it difficult not to punch that shitty smile off his face.

you felt like you had won the lottery at having the worst luck. you just so happened to live in the same building as him; just on different floors. you couldn't count the number of times you had taken the stairs to your apartment floor, just so you won't run into him at the elevator, or when you would parked your car far from your block, just so you wouldn't run into him in the morning when he was leaving for practice.

---

your hands were shaking, the rational part of your brain begging you to not throw a punch at the man standing before you. taking a deep breath in, you sighed. he deserves that punch, but you were better than this. better than him. swiftly turning away from him, you continued to search for your favorite cereal.

you had the misfortune of running into him during your monthly grocery shopping. and now he wouldn't leave you alone. why was he even here? it wasn't like he was buying anything. at least not anymore. he had left the shopping cart in the milk aisle when he spotted you. seriously? wasn't this dude some famous soccer player? shouldn't he be at, i don't know, practice or something?

"so? what do you say?" he asks with a charming smile plastered on his face. "no," you replied without looking his way. what was he asking you anyway? you really weren't listening to him. you missed the way his smile dropped a little, but he was determined to get you to come. if Michael Kaiser was anything, it was stubborn.

"why not? i'm even giving you the vip tickets," he said in a way that almost sounded like a whine. you turned around to face him and almost regretted it when you saw his smile widen a bit. you blinked at him, confused out of your mind. tickets? to what? a game? was he inviting you to watch his game?

"tickets to what?" you questioned him with a small tilt of your head. and the worst part? you looked genuinely confused. Kaiser visibly deflated when he realized you weren't paying attention to him. he regained his posture quickly before bobbing his head up and down in a form of a nod, "it's next week. saturday. and you have to come."

taking yet another deep breath, you turned around, dragging your cart with you. was this guy seriously ordering you to come to his game? even the slightest of a chance of you going to his game was just yeeted out of the top floor of the tallest building.

"hm? (name)?" and he had the audacity to follow you around like a puppy after all that. he put his hand on top of your shoulder, trying to turn you to look at him. your hand was gripping the cart like your life depended on it. well, technically a life did depend on it. not yours, but Kaiser's. you swear you were so close to killing him.

you swatted his hand away, quite harshly, leaving him behind. he watched your back, before you turned to a different aisle, completely disappearing from his sight. looking down at his hand, Kaiser could see the red mark left behind. it slowly was beginning to sting too. ignoring the pain, he stuffed his hands in his pants. he walked out of the grocery store, with a frown on his face. the things he came to buy were long forgotten. a single question lingering in his mind, did you really hate him that much?

---

days went by and it had been suspiciously quiet all week. it almost felt too good to be true. it was finally saturday. the weekend was here. phew, finally you can relax now. no more dealing with people. you came back from your morning run to see a white envelope tucked in your gate. gently tearing it, you looked at the contents inside of it. they were tickets to a soccer game. Bastard München vs PXG?

you searched your brain to figure out why that name sounded so familiar. ah-ha! you remembered it now. bastard münchen was the team your annoying neighbor played for. as for the other...? you had no idea who they were. 

looking around the corridor, you didn't see him there. he probably dropped this off when you went for your run. shrugging, you went inside your house. tossing it on your dining table, you went to take a long, and a very much-needed shower.

---

catching up on the sleep you missed during the week was probably your favorite way to spend your saturdays. looking at the time, you realized you had slept for longer than you intended to. it was already evening. you went to your kitchen to get yourself a drink when you noticed the tickets Kaiser so graciously dropped off this morning. you had honestly forgotten about it.

checking the time again, you realized that the game had already started a few minutes ago. it wasn't every day that you get vip tickets to a game. and it would honestly be a waste not to use those tickets. changing into something comfortable yet stylish, you drove off to where the game was being held. (you got your drink on the way.)

---

it took you longer than you had expected to get here. the traffic was loud and seemed to never end. you almost regretted leaving the comforts of your cozy home. now sitting comfortably in the chair, you were honestly impressed at the view you had of the field. these were some good ass seats.

it seemed like the second half had just started. the score was 3-2 in favor of PXG. a small frown unconsciously tugged at your features. was Kaiser losing? the match continued like usual. you watched the game like a hawk, your eyes never leaving the field. Kaiser had just scored a goal. you let out a whistle at that. honestly, you were impressed. he scored that goal faster than you could even comprehend what was happening.

as much as he didn't want to, Kaiser knew he had an image to keep up. so forcing himself to turn towards the stands, he plastered on a fake smile, even throwing a small wave toward the people watching him. his eyes drifted towards the vip section, more specifically, towards the seats he had booked for you.

he was really hoping you would come to his game. it would've meant a lot to him. but every time he looked that way, you weren't there. his mood continued to deplete the longer the game went on. he could barely focus on the game. even the coach had warned him that if he wasn't going to score soon, he'll be benched. and that's why he almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you, sitting in the seat he booked especially for you.

he didn't realize his smile switched from a fake to a genuine one. he continued to stare your way with a bashful smile stretched across his pretty features. his intense stare made you feel a bit awkward, as you tried to hide yourself from him by lowering yourself onto the seat a bit. reluctantly, you gave him a stiff wave, and that seemed to have brought him out of whatever dreamland he was stuck in. Kaiser doesn't think his cheeks have ever hurt from smiling so damn much.

---

the game had ended with Bastard München winning. you decided to wait for the stadium to clear a bit. because there was no way you were going to be smashed between so many people. like, be fucking for real; shouldn't they have made a separate exit for the vip's? 

after god knows how long you were able to see the other side of the exit. you dragged your feet all the way toward the exit. you were probably one of the last spectators remaining in the building.

"(NAME)!" turning around just in time to catch a flying body, you stumbled upon the contact, barely able to keep yourself from falling on the floor. looking down slightly, you could see Kaiser with an annoyingly cute smile plastered on his face, looking up at you. he looked a lot like a happy puppy to you. you were sure his tail would have been wagging aggressively, if he had one.

"you came!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice, still clinging to you. it looked like he still had the excitement left in him from the game. "i was bored," you said in a tone that matched your words. still, Kaiser didn't seem to get disheartened by it. whatever the reason was, you still came to watch him.

"let go of me now," you grumbled. Kaiser gave you a closed eye smile. 13 seconds. that's how long you let him hug you. it was a new record!

---

ever since that day, you had been seeing more of him. he still annoys you, but it's been bearable. you would never admit it, to him or yourself, but his presence has grown on you, and you even liked hanging out with him sometimes. only when he wasn’t being a menace though.

you sipped on the last bits of your favorite drink before throwing it away in the trash bin you came across. you were walking around the park in your neighborhood with the Michael Kaiser himself. it was almost midnight. you don't even know why you’re out this late. but when Michael knocked on your door and practically begged you to go on a walk with him, you had no choice but to do so.

it was a comfortable silence between you two. you liked it. Michael was still sipping on his drink, looking around the lamp-lit streets surrounding the both of you.

there’s another thing you've grown to like; his eyes. they were the prettiest shade of blue and when light reflected off of them, you would be hypnotized, to say the least.

a hand holding yours caught your attention, and you were dragged towards your right. "come on! we're going this way," he said with a smile adorning his features. even after dragging you on the path he desired, he didn't let go of your hand. you didn't complain.

he was walking a few steps ahead of you; his hand, now intertwined with yours, dragging you along. he looked breathtaking. quite literally. your breath hitched for a second there, before you recollected your thoughts and continued to be dragged around by him.

"a penny for your thoughts?" his calm voice brought you out of your daze. your eyes met his and he gave you a smile. "don't worry about it," you dismissed it quickly, and continued walking, this time dragging him behind you. he smiled at your intertwined hands and gave them a small squeeze.

---

"it's getting late. we should get going," you said looking at the sky. even though there weren't as many stars, because of the city lights and pollution, you could still see some of the stars that managed to shine through. after hearing no response, you looked at Michael from the corner of your eyes. you raised a brow at him. why was he looking at you like that? did you have something on your face? 

"what are you thinking about?" you asked the blond man in front of you. 

"it's not fair (name)," he replied still looking at you. you let out a confused sound at his weird answer. he chuckled at your adorable expression, "i'm just saying, that it's not fair how good you look doing the simplest of things. it's kinda annoying." what he said was true, kind of. just now when you were gazing at the sky, he couldn't help but stare at you, the light from the surroundings made you look other-worldly, ethereal.

the tip of your ears burned at hearing the sudden compliment from him. did that even count as a compliment? you tried to scowl but couldn't help but laugh at the irony. you thought the same thing as him. yes, you used to despise him, dare you say, even hate him. but the more time you spent with him, the lesser you hated him. how does that even work? 

"what?" Michael asked with a confused expression. he was half expecting you to shut him out, walk away from him, anything but that. "you know what's actually annoying?" you asked with a small smile, amusement in your eyes. Michael loved all the attention you were giving him in that moment, that he didn't even register your question. "what?" he asks after realizing you were still waiting for his answer.

"you"

he pouted at your answer. way to ruin the moment (name), he thought. you let out another laugh seeing his pout, it wasn't every day that you would see the German pouting. holding his chin between your fingers, you turned his face towards yours. "wanna know why?" you asked the blond. your fingers were still grasping his chin, Michael noted. he gave a short nod. honestly, he didn't want to know. who would wanna know that the man you've grown to like thought you were annoying? get some common sense (name)! but the look in your eyes compelled him to agree.

"because i don't know what i wanna do when i’m with you," you sighed. Michael was utterly and completely confused. what did you even mean? your hand left his chin to cup his face. running your thumb over his cheekbones, you couldn't stop the smile that was threatening to break out. "you confuse me so much. i don't know if i wanna punch you in the face or kiss you stupid," you answered, observing his face for any signs of discomfort. 

you watched his eyes widen. his face felt warmer than before. the emperor looked at a loss of words; when was the last time that happened? you mused to yourself. 

"then do it." you looked at him, waiting to see if he was going to say anything else, "kiss me stupid (name)."

this was probably going to be the only time you would obey his orders. leaning towards him, you let your lips hover over his, "gladly." 

[aroaceleovaldez]

I refuse to believe Nico is 5.6. He’s like barely five foot, he’s cuddle sized for will’s convenience

I mean, he's not. he's not 5'6". Only like three characters have extremely definitive heights with exact numbers and that's Michael Yew (4'6" [TLO]), Clarisse (5'6" [TLO]), and Tyson ("a little over 6ft tall" [BoO]). Everyone else is comparisons to each other with no exact heights (Jason is one inch taller than Percy, and Nico is 6 inches shorter than Michael Kahale, but we don't know how tall exactly any of them are) or vague approximations (Annabeth used to be taller than Percy but is now shorter, Thalia is approximately the tallest Huntress as of BoO, the Stoll brothers are Generally Tall-ish, Leo can fit into a seven year old's hand-me-downs, etc.)

An important thing to remember with Nico is that he is 14 at absolute maximum in the series. His age range through the series is 10-14. 14 year olds are rarely tall. Average height for a 13 year old boy, aka Nico throughout all of HoO, is ~5'1". In the 1930s, the average height of an adult Italian man was like 5'5"-5'6".

So, with that information, Nico as an adult is unlikely to break 5'6" if even 5'5". He is absolutely not 5'6" at 14, especially since we know he's described as short. Nico probably spent the majority of the first series under 5ft, which would actually explain why Bianca in BoTL noted that Nico had hit a growth spurt, because he was probably newly not 4ft-something anymore. Him being 5'2" in Blood of Olympus would make Michael Kahale 5'8", which is a perfectly reasonable height and does also match with their weight descriptions in the same line.

Anyways please picture the TLO scene of Nico scurrying around after Hades, shouting and waving his arms, with Nico being 5ft even and Hades being like 40ft god mode. Or Nico sassing Kronos but Luke is at least 6ft in comparison. It's really funny.

[the-golden-comet]

Michael: This isn’t a GAME, Tenshi!! You need to come home!

Uriel: I don’t think he can hear us, Mike…

Saraqael: …Is he getting stronger? Damn.

Raphael: YO!! Get your HINEY back to the Heavenly Realms!!

☁️☁️☁️

Itazura: Tenshi! Be careful—!!

Yoji: —Careful my ASS. Ten: Get the fuck back down here—

Itazura: —YOJ.

Yoji: WHAT?! You’re the one who brought him in. Now he’s YOUR responsibility!!

Itazura: And YOU’RE still my bodyguard. So that makes him ours, Yoj.

Yoji: Ohhh Hells, Ita. What have you got us into?

🔥🔥🔥

???: Mmmm….Tenshi, is it? How delectable…

???: dissssgustingly sssweet.

???: All the better on the tongue, dear knave. All the sweeter the screams~

✨✨✨

Amaterasu: The Gift of Raiden is yours, my child. You will be a hero one day.

Oh, Golly…..that’s a lot of responsibility, isn’t it? Mmmm…

Okie dokie….I-I’ll do my best~! ✨

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[fishii-writes]

the crown of your head - chapter one - see who?

masterlist

cw: not proof read, kaiser., aranged marriage, implied neglectful parents, no actual isagi yet, ness and kaiser are besties, lmk if i missed anything

a/n: its like 2am and i finished this chapter ages ago, i just didnt wanna post it cus what if ppl dont like it. anyways pls tell me what u think bc im STRESSING. i swear the chapters will get more interesting trustttt. enjoy! <3

word count: 479

“You simply cannot see him,” your older brother, Michael, barges into your room. It’s been this way a lot recently. Ever since your parents had set you up into an arranged marriage.

With a man you don’t know, at that.

But with the way that Michael’s been bugging you, non stop, about this man, he doesn’t seem to like him. To say the least. Well, that’s besides the point. You had tried to bargain with your parents, in hopes to at least meet this man. But to no avail, for weeks.

Until your brother and his best friend, Ness, forced you to join them on a trip to, in their words, “the devil’s den”.

Well, that was a lie. You should’ve known, since the name itself was made up by two airheads who are simply biased towards… other kingdoms. Or none.

After much consideration of escaping while your brother and his friend aren’t looking, you finally find yourself in front of a palace. A massive one, at that.

Sharp arches reach high above your heads, higher than the tallest men you’d seen your brother associate with. And that’s hard to beat. The tiles on the pillars are white, but they’re stained with a vibrant yet slightly fading shade of blue. It's almost as if a cerulean sea had washed up onto the large marble tiles of the palace, its waves crashing against the pillars and adorning them with its gorgeous sapphire-like colour. Who were you to judge the said devil so soon? Especially when your brother seems to hate him but still brought you to see him.

“Come now, let’s go meet your future husband,” Ness smiles, ushering you towards the large staircase in front of the palace. He looks almost too happy to be showing you to this man, or the other way around. But you know him better than that. He and Michael aren’t happy at all. The smile on Ness’ face is merely a façade, threatening to crack at probably the smallest inconvenience. It's almost amusing.

As you step up each step of the staircase, you admire the lighter mix of blue and turquoise marble that the stairs are made of. The side hand railings are thick and the same colours, but more of a solid mix of them. Small golden chandeliers hang above the four edges of the hand railings, where they start and finish on both sides. Your brother walks beside you, an annoyed scowl on his face and a protective hand on your back.

Ness raises his hand to politely knock on the large doors of this even larger palace. You’re surprised at how the soft knock echoes through the now revealed hallway of the palace. A butler, plus many additional maids and workers, stand in view from the door, smiling. So Michael had organised this, it wasn’t just a one-off random encounter.

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© fishii-writes 2024

[daandyli0n]

(warnings: blood/mild gore, implied child death (and murder in Cassidy's case), eye contact. maybe also bright colors/eyestrain)

Some Updated Refs For The Afton Family In The Rewrite

(you know the drill, click the images to see details better and whatnot)

hooo boy. give me a minute to ramble about the designs and stuff below -

William:

so. tried to give him both "Eccentric, Goofy Restaurant Owner" and "REALLY Off-Putting" Vibes. hope i succeeded

yes he's hiding a knife behind his back.

bunny features. i Love William with bunny features. if you draw William with Bunny Features ily (platonically)

this man has not gotten a good night's sleep in Years.

now...you may be wondering: Why Do His Kids Get Refs For When They're Older, But Not Him? well...that's because, physically, he doesn't change much besides getting some more gray hairs and worse eye bags in the over a decade between his original murders and his death. and i've already done a ref for what O'Hare/Springtrap looks like in my design

yes, the Unhinged look in his eyes is intentional.

Alex:

gave his younger self a pose that was meant to give off "rebellious teenager" vibes, and his older self a pose that gives off "bitter and anxious" vibes.

gave him long hair. because Yes.

tallest of his siblings.

Michael:

looks like his father, but with a few minor changes: skin is mildly more tanned than his father, hair is a lighter shade of brown, etc.

William based the 1987 uniforms for the guards/employees off of his own usual outfit (Purple. which Backfired).

Mike tried to change his hair a bit to distinguish himself from his father, mostly by dying it a bright red and trying to cut the Bunny Ear-Shaped parts on the top of his hair to be more jagged and less Bunny-Like.

scars on his arm are from where Springtrap grabbed onto him.

Evan:

not much to say. bookworm, sad guy, probably needs to go to therapy for what happened in his childhood.

Elizabeth:

Bunny Features :]

she's basically somewhere between blonde and ginger hair color wise. i'd describe her as a strawberry blonde.

constantly has a wide-eyed look. like a hare.

mismatched socks, just because she could.

ghosts are typically either desaturated or transparent, with the only bright colors on them are usually their eyes or the bloody wounds from their death.

so while it's not shown here, "fun" fact! Liz died from where Harriet (Circus Baby) hugged her hard enough to break not just her spine, but her neck as well. (the hug was so strong due to Harriet malfunctioning that day)

all ghosts who have their souls tied to an animatronic have a mask of that animatronic that they can wear if they wish. Liz's mask is of Harriet.

Cassidy:

my baby boy. my beloved <3

those pants are pajama pants. he wore them everywhere.

while not visible, Cassidy also wears mismatched socks like Liz.

the Fredbear plush was a gift from Henry, given to Cassidy by Charlie.

was blind in one eye after The Bite.

The Bite wasn't as horrible as people think it was. what basically happened was that the teeth bit slightly into his head, which caused the bleeding, as well as some cracking in the skull and brain damage in his frontal lobe. due to the mechanisms in Fredbear being Very hot as well, it caused some burns. nothing that couldn't heal, but...it Was still pretty serious.

while The Bite itself didn't kill Cassidy, he still, as a ghost, appears to have a bleeding section of his head.

the strangulation marks on his neck are more visible as a ghost.

Cassidy, as a spirit, can occasionally leak a mysterious black fluid from his eyes and mouth, which is reflected on his Mask.

Cassidy is transparent as a ghost.

anyway!! here's the guys!!

@that-darn-clown @hello-there-world

[letterful]

If people know any portion of Herodotus, they almost certainly know the story of Croesus, the immensely rich king of the Lydians, who asked the oracles at Delphi whether he should go to war against the Persians: “The answers both oracles gave to the question were perfectly consistent with each other: they told Croesus that if he made war on the Persians, he would destroy a great empire.” Thus reassured, Croesus attacked and was utterly routed: The empire he would destroy was his own. Herodotus is a treasure chest of such stories and of what he calls thomata, or wonders. He tells us about temple prostitutes in Babylon, the Scythians’ use of cannabis to get high, fathers inadvertently feasting on the flesh of their own sons; he shows us the oases of North Africa (the Ethiopians, he says, “are the tallest and most attractive people in the world”), giant ants that bring up gold from underground, and Amazons who must first kill a man before they can marry; we even glimpse a high-born Persian who cuts off his nose and ears to accomplish a daring undercover military operation, a circumnavigation of Africa, and a foolish king so infatuated with his wife’s beauty that he insists that one of his counselors see her naked. With his usual charm, Herodotus notes that there are so many aromatic spices in Arabia that the entire country “gives off a wonderfully pleasant smell.” His book’s famous second chapter alone, a long excursus on Egypt, describes the use of mosquito netting, how to hunt a crocodile, the legend of Helen in Egypt, the building of pyramids, and three ways to embalm a corpse. After the mortuarial details, he gruesomely adds, “When the wife of an eminent man dies, or any woman who was particularly beautiful or famous, the body is not handed over to the embalmers straight away. They wait three or four days before doing so. The reason for this is to stop the embalmers having sex with the women.”

— MICHAEL DIRDA, from Bound to Please.