#a d v e n t u r e t i m e

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Strings☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 2 4 2 5  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 24.09.2023     🌧 navigation  ☔️ SEQUEL • s u m m a r y: marshall likes snooping around, and you like peace and quiet.

The rain fell on the grasslands of Aaa and surrounding areas. The animals in the forests hid under trees, candy citizens ran into bars, and Marshall Lee floated high off the ground. 

  He floated to the empty Tree House. The willow branches dripped with cold water and glistened like rhinestones. He tapped on the glass. No one answered. Adjusting his jacket and turning invisible, he let himself in, prying the glass up with his claws. It opened with a slight screech. He flew in, shaking the raindrops off his leather jacket. 

  The water dropped to the wooden ground. He looked up and flinched, turning visible as he was met with a figure on the couch in the kitchen. 

  They held a left-handed guitar made of bone, decorated with worn stickers. They held a pick shaped like a heart as they strummed out chords of Francis Forver, strumming the e-string angrily each time they messed up, concentrating so hard it was almost intimidating. 

  Marshall floated above them as he zipped up one of his pockets.

  You jolted up, stopped playing, nearly dropped your guitar, and with wide eyes watched as some guy appeared in front of you. 

  He had mint skin, black hair wet from the rain, black and red eyes you never got used to, and an expression that confused you. Maybe fear, or worry. You screamed, and he did as well. It was Marshall Lee- kind of a friend of a friend with whom you occasionally crossed paths.   

  Kinda a person you thought was mad cool, but not someone you were close with. 

  "What are you doing here?" He asked. His voice was calm and bordering on deep. You hadn't heard him speak much, and it was startling. 

  You raised a brow.

  "I could ask you the same question!"   You jabbed. 

  He floated down, eyes staring at your instrument.

  "Nice guitar." He bent over to inspect it. You pulled away. His tone was between mocking and impressed. Personal space breached, raise the grimace shields. 

  He was acting quite calm. You were, too. Internally, though, you screamed, your heartbeat wild, hands drumming on your thighs.

  "Um... thanks? Did Fionna invite you over?" You changed your posture from a slouch to the straightest and stiffest pose known to Aaa. Even your tone was stiff. You weren't a person who was comfortable with others around, often becoming a robotic, clumsy mess, and you were even worse with people you barely knew. Cool people you barely knew? Instant death.

  "Nope."

   Your face flashed with concern. Marshall wasn't... malicious, but he was trouble, and glob forbid he dragged you into some antics. Can't a guy practice some guitar on a rainy afternoon?

   "As LSP would say, I'm crashing." He shrugged casually.

  You strummed your guitar. It was still connected to your demonic amp. The amount of demons you had to fight to get that thing was crazy. But it was worth it. The sound was clear, the controls were precise, and it sounded otherworldly, especially with deadstortion. 

  He floated near you and nearly stood on his feet. The silence hung in the air as your eyes drifted around the kitchen. 

  "Mind if I try?" He spoke gently, far more soft compared to his usual sass. It could be something he put on in front of groups of people. Or maybe your deer-in-headlights demeanor was enough to make even him more careful. 

  Your eyes fell on him and you folded your arms, not before gesturing to the instrument swiftly.

  "Uh no, go ahead." You nodded and raised your shoulders, tense. 

  Marshall scooped it into his arms. It fit great. His long fingers spanned across the frets nicely. He had hands made for playing guitar, and that made you envious. Even with practice, you couldnʼt reach so far. He positioned himself, floating mid-air. 

  Your face was a mix of curiosity and surprise. 

  "No pick? Just... fingers?" You raised a brow, the words coming out faster than you thought. He laughed lightly, and you flushed. 

  "I'm good with them." You choked on air as you sat stiffly, stifling a nervous laugh. If you were flushed before, now all your blood was definitely in your awkward face. 

  He strummed and his long ears perked up at the sound. 

   "You're left-handed?" He bit the edges of his black lips, positioning his fingers. He didn't need to take so long doing all that. He was stalling. Curious.

  "Not quite. A dragon tore off one of my left fingertips, so I can't hold down the frets without gross pain," You rambled quietly as you rested against the red cushions.

  He played what was definitely, unmistakably Misirlou. You had to close your mouth at the speed of his wrist. Looking at that shit was enough to give your wrist a sprain. 

  He lifted his hands, holding the guitar loosely as he stared in your general direction expectantly. You cleared your throat. 

  "You seem good at left-handed playing. I've only seen you play right before." Marshall's expression flashed disappointment for a second before returning to a chill one. 

  "I've had a thousand years to learn, if I couldn't play either,  that would be embarrassing." He smiled. Damn, that guitar suited him... 

  "Same with money... imagine being poor after like a thousand years..." You tapped on the table, lost in thought, partially about vampires, but mostly about a vampire. 

  "I can't, I own half of Aaa and my mom is the ruler of the Nightosphere. I used to own this Tree House!" He motioned to a part of the tree, and objects lifted to reveal an M carved into it. 

  "I remember that. I wasn't there but I heard about it." You nodded. 

  "Guess you've heard a lot about me?" He lifted his brows. 

  "Quite a- oooh. I get it." 

  "Get what?" A grin tugged at his lips.

  "That wasn't an actual question, was it?" You squinted up with a smug expression. 

  "Wow. Pretty and smart. Package deal," He said with the perfect delivery- just the right amount of casualness for the line to be missed unless you were paying attention. And you indubitably were; you dearly hoped he didn't notice and you came off as cool and mysterious. Your flush and rigidity betrayed your discomfort. 

  Marshall passed you your guitar, and you leaned on it with your elbow, brushing hair away from your face as you looked around the room, searching for something interesting. 

  Dishes. Fridge. Your shaky hands. Paintings. Tree bark. A bug in the corner. Inevitably, your eyes fell back on Marshall. Your attention jumped from his clothes to his hair, to his inhuman features. 

  "Why are you staring?" You blanched and your expression fell. You met his eyes. If you looked down you'd be even more suspicious. 

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Your eyes are...." You trailed off. Shit. You weren't looking at his globdamn eyes, but you weren't about to say "Nice cock, bro". 

  "Horrifying? Demonic?" You swore he floated closer to you. You recoiled, pursing your lips. 

  "Interesting."

  Good save, idiot.

  His arrogant little facade faded, replaced by tired disappointment. 

  "It's also interesting how you're already tall but still float."

  He shrugged.

  "Alright, I'll bite." He stood on the ground. You finally got a good look at his frame and height, and man was that good look good. Every part of him was long and slim, from his ears to his eyes and fingers, and who else knows what. You slapped yourself internally at the thought. 

   He sat down next to you, setting his right calf onto his left thigh. He inclined his head. 

  "Not literally." He flashed the tips of his fangs. He fished a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, turning to you and slicking back his drying hair.

   "You want some?"

  You grimaced. 

   "No. and you shouldn't smoke inside. And this shit is bad for your vocal health." The rain still raged on, yet it felt like a calming ambiance when in the comfort of the Tree House. 

  "Aww, come on. Just once," He beckoned sweetly, nearing your face, feigning demonic puppy eyes. You shook your head. He set them down on the couch, as well as a red lighter. So much of his stuff was red. It was like if you had everything made outta food. 

  "It's like murder. It's a slippery slope."

  You bounced your leg, checking your phone. You scrolled through your notifications. As empty as your heart. 

  "Sometimes I check my messages and realize just how bitchless I am..." 

  "Can't relate. I have lots of friends and messages...." He spread his arms over the backboard, gesturing in the air as his eyes wandered. He had a real soulful expression, as though he was speaking of glob itself. 

  Marshall dropped his arms, sighed, and frowned. 

  "Okay, yeah, I don't have anyone close to me. Sure I hang out with people but I'm kind of a loner," He admitted quietly, reminiscent of your insecure and anxious tone. 

  "You saw me earlier. I'm not much of a loner as much as I am a loser..."

  "That's where we're different. But together we make a lone loser." He gestured to his unbeating heart, speaking like a damn motivational speaker. You smiled. 

  "Perfect."

  A silence lingered. If not for the raging storm out, you would've heard the caw of a cyclops crow. 

  The silence turned strange as you made prolonged eye contact. Your proximity sent you into a fever. He didn't have any warmth- it felt like you had stolen all of it at once. 

  You tore your gaze away, opening up a portal with your pick and putting your guitar in. Marshall's eyes widened and he jerked in surprise. 

  "Where did that go?!" His voice strained against serenity. 

 "Uhhh I put it in its case. Between the Nightosphere-" You lifted your hand. 

  "The Nightosphere?" He interrupted with worry. 

  "-And the deadworlds. Let me finish." You readjusted yourself, unamused. 

  "Oh, I'll let you finish alright. Not like that. Are you finished?" 

  Your mouth was agape. 

  "You made that a lot worse than it was. Yes, I'm done." 

  You would never forget the awkwardness that plagued you throughout that whole interaction. It would forever be embedded in your cringing bones. 

  You browsed on your phone, refreshing your conversation with Fionna. No updates. Not even a bad meme. Sad. 

  Your arms rested on the table as you set your phone face down. You contemplated making tea. 

  "Why haven't we talked much before?"

  That was a difficult question. You braced yourself as you turned your head to him just a tad. 

   "Honestly? I was... afraid of you. Not because of the demon vampire thing," You quickly defended yourself. 

  "That's surprising..." Marshall mumbled.

  "Sorry." He raised his arms defensively. 

  "But because you're... I'm gonna sound stupid." You laid face down and laughed nervously, in sync with the drops hitting the windows. 

  "I doubt that. You're not Fionna." 

  The corners of your mouth tilted up, and you shot the vampire a dirty look. 

  "Shut up!" You laughed hollowly, surprised by his little joke. 

   He gave you a tight-lipped smile. 

   "You're cool, and I thought you were better than interacting with someone like me." The words did sound stupid coming out of your mouth. The thoughts were completely irrational. 

  "Someone with mutual interests and more to talk about than hacking monsters or angry exes?" He quirked a brow. 

  "I'm not trying to rationalize it. Also, I have plenty of exes to talk about." You raised your phone. 

  Marshall's face was practically begging you to not. 

  "Please don't."

   "Fine. You're safe. For now. One was a demon." You glared at a picture of them with you. He peeked over your shoulder. 

  "That's interesting...."

  "You said not to talk about it." You leaned on your palm, feigning disinterest. 

  "I take it back, come on! Don't leave me hanging," He asked desperately, ghosting his black claws over your now upright back. You shuffled away. 

  "You'll have to beg-"

  Your phone buzzed. You hummed with displeasure, reading the message right away. 

  "Glob. You gotta go, Fionna will be here soon," You urged as you stood up, straightening out your clothes and stretching as you paced around the room. Marshall paused for a second and decided to stand up. 

  "You're right. No fun getting caught." He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking to the window. You watched his movements carefully as he opened up the window, putting his foot on the ledge, and floating, defying gravity. 

  As he left, you were hit with a lot of. A lot. Just, a lot.  

  You put the kettle on the stove, sitting on the counter, relaxing, finally. 

  You had always... wanted to hang out with him, but, damn, you didn't think it'd happen. And he wasn't as intimidating as he came off! You felt all funny inside, still absolutely high off the adrenalin of it all. When you saw him appear it was like your body got restarted. 

  The water began to boil, and you poked at dry leaves of colorful tea. 

  You were surprised as Marshall flew back in. You didn't have time to process a thing. He observed you as you lounged with owlish eyes. He picked up his lighter and cigarettes. He hadn't looked away.

  "Forgot these." He glanced from the objects to you. He headed for the window again. He hesitated. 

  "These aren't tobacco, you know." 

  You raised your brows. He flew out as the front door rattled and Fionna and Cake yelled loudly. You waved to Marshall, only to see that he was gone, and the window was open. 

  You sat like a statue with a mystified gaze. 

  The kettle whistled and Fionna waved her hand in front of your face.

  Did you fumble or did you fumble hard? Maybe if you had taken the offer, something else would be ha...

  "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Cake frowned, poking your knee. You moved the kettle and Fionna turned off the stove. 

  "No, I saw a... yep, saw a ghost. A cool ghost," You replied breathlessly and somewhat robotically as you finally managed to focus on the two. You poured hot water from the kettle into your favorite mug. It had a cat on it. Dropping tea leaves into the water, you watched as the leaves seeped a bright ruby, and swirled with darker, near-black swirls. 

  Rain still poured outside, albeit it was far calmer than previously. You hoped Marshall was fine. 

  You held up two more mugs. You smiled awkwardly. 

  "Anyone want tea?" 

[actressposts]

[luxmoogle]

Your bio says you can be bribed with lux, but what about 13 postcards I found randomly? Would you take those?

..THIRTEEN????

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓤𝓹 𝓐𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼, 𝓢𝓸𝓷... 𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓖𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓤𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮, 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷...

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃-𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 ‹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓅› 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃? 𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 ‹𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃› 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝑔𝑜?

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to dull the edge of it is what I have been doing since v.1. As if something has indeed been fragmented & this is the pain of my conscious life. And every time I travel the melodious/glamorous path of frenzy, every time I complete it, I am going to experience the same precious pain intensity, purity of pain/ecstasy. I am going to be eventually bound to this inmost/overwhelming awe, this vehement impulse to feel/fondle/kiss what is loved, to kneel down before it, to cuddle up to its heart, to recompense bliss with bliss... More and more. Neither the good boy nor I are free. I do not want to be free... free from... These bare feelings are ‹clawing› at the reconstructed interpretation of the organ inside me. The great minds will not know what they have done, neither will Anthony... It speaks louder-truer than anything, but the sounds are not obvious... Words. All I possess, this rich but poor instrument for... And you always do end up in the point where...

The aesthetic masterwork, perfused with the golden brilliance of authentic ideality x pierced with the darkest blade of bitter-salty inaccessibility, inevitability, impossibility.

Excruciation, pleasure, euphoria, art. Blended together. Find yourself... or lose yourself on this journey. Emotionally. Totally. An unparalleled effect... and the lulling sparkle the vessel has never actually had. Something in this body x mind has died, and I do not know if there is a way to accept it, to recover it. I have described the lesson of unprecedentedness I have learned, not the expected story of ‹insult-betrayal-contempt›. No one will ever f-g hear it. Not from me, not in this lifetime. / Loving extraordinary is merciless a priori, დ/დ become telepathic... & the severest trial ~ the unhealable wound ~ is to be a 𝓟 son without the cause to be... *If I have to detest many donkeys for a chance to protect one venerated Father figure, I will go for it.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉... 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓎. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝑒, '𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝑜𝑜. 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊... 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈... 𝒮𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒮𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈...

While I am willing to imbibe all the anguish of the human I love, to ease his suffering, the loss of us is taking its toll on me irretrievably. I see him. I see what is inside him... & I am incapable of safeguarding it, saving it truly.

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to put up with this gift is what I have been doing since v.1. The chest is ‹cut open› too deep, the fragility of the organ is exposed... Would you allow me to grow more flowers? I wanna do it... Because it is you, It has always been you. The one who has given us everything, endued me to the brim with the intimate fatherly affection that this organ never remembered. My eternal wish & exuberant price for humanity, the misunderstood nature. *What an odious irony. / I do not know if there is a way to recover what is gone.

I would sacrifice the lot to be with the human that needs me, needs to be healed, heals me. I would rip my core out but I cannot, the limitation of freedom. *Tell me that the ‹strings of abuse/child neglect/lies› are finally cut. Tell me to ‹celebrate›. Tell me that both 𝓟inocchio/I are wrong x naive, ‹fix› me. You have no f-g clue about it. / When it is written that your starving heart must be left half-empty & helpless... No freedom is scarier than this.

Affording harmony to the sapphire star that is going to fall away... The sentiment it deserves. All I have ever hankered for. & I am terrified of that my grandest instinct x fear will not grant any lasting peace to me.

Death will do our Sun-hugged family apart ~ but I will still be yours, for ever. The core has never felt as good x feverish as it does when with you... as astray x anxious as it does when deprived of you. I am not lying to you, I hold no resentment... Let me ‹feed on› the emotions of your heart... Even if it means your pain x my love turn the vessel inside-out & your love x my pain do the same. Not blurred, always remember. Always. If a masterpiece could be made into a masterpiece, I would prefer to share this fate. My bona fide mission, however, is not allow anything to be in vain... Even if it hurts. ~ The atrophied ability to express love verbally has been ‹roused› again, in a fervidly devoted but preciously righteous way... The ‹lash› of despair, compulsion, dream, reality.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝓇𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜. 𝐼𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃... 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈. 𝐿𝒪𝒫 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝟙/𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇.

...Take the whole meaning of this, its flavorful, pathetic, shameless, lonesome taste. Take it all, for it is all that is absolute. Teach me how to ‹merge› with it, the mortal desire of a puppet child, a human Mastro x a faceless observer like myself ~ & when the desire full of unexploited majesty is cutting off the oxygen to the lungs... True geniuses of any kind are among the silent. These eyeballs will not dry up, never fully. I have tried so many times to resist it, but why live if you repel what puts your ‹dehydrated› pieces together? I would spare no effort to keep them hot and uncurb what is being restrained... Nothing affects self-perception and ‹unmasks› the unconscious like sensation, nothing genuinely matters without it. / Shivering with cold, this body is burning. My atrophied reality in exchange for a moment of irrepressible happiness, agony, guiltless x not bottled up impulses ~ just a moment. It keeps consuming me without reserve. I do not need God. ✒

[csyakult]

✻ ⌣ 🦦 ˚ 𖤛

[biitchcakes]

Jess when Thor merely suggests she didn't grow up with her parents ( which is mostly factual ): 😡💥👊💢😤

VS . . .

Jess when Bruce (accurately) psychoanalyses her: 🥰😊💞😍😘

/ @hubrisdescent

[deus-ex-mona]

real talk: lxl should continue to explore romance fantasy concepts in their songs. it’s clearly working for them~

[demonoftheseas]

mutuals ⚠️ do NOT reblog things i have on my blog unless you want me to love you

[littlestar-center]

(Image unrelated but I’m not suprized on how not surprised none of you asked multi questions in a single ask)

[izzyizumi]

{D I G I M O N} Adventure (S e r i e s) + tri. S t a g e-p l a y (+I m p l i e d as also P o s t-S e r i e s) {x T{e}xt P o s t(s) M e m e} ~ K O U S H I R O x T A I C H I

Crop'd / by @izzyizumi / koushirouizumi / hikari-m {Do Not Re-p o s t} {Do Not C o p y} {Do Not Remove Caption} {Do Not Re-produce My Work Under Any Circumstances Without My Permission Whatsoever!} [*Including for @.I. Usages] (A S K to Use!)

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Siren Song☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 1 2 7 1  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 17.09.2023      🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: you hear a voice singing while out exploring the woods. you go to investigate and find someone unexpected.

You huffed as you jumped down from a concrete block covered with vines, your hands meeting the dirt. It looked like it was about to rain, and the sun was on its way to set, its rays muffled by thick storm clouds. 

  You straightened out of your crouch nimbly. You fixed your comfortable adventure clothes. 

  You inhaled and relished as your lungs filled with oxygen-rich forest air. Birds chirped, crickets rehearsed their symphonies, a small orchestra hid by foliage, and the breeze caressed your skin gently. 

  It was a beautiful evening, and you walked through the clearing calmly. 

  A sound caught your attention. No, it wasn't a bird. It wasn't a bug. Neither was it a party or an animal. The sound was more like a voice. You quirked your brow as you squinted. 

  You tried to follow the sound, wandering through the forest. 

  Your hands met with the bark of ancient trees as you sighed. No dice. But you were curious, you wanted to know who it was that was singing so pleasantly. For a few moments, you continued to wander, and after what seemed like too long, the voice came closer. It felt like you just needed one more turn and you'd meet the singer.

  If that was a forest siren singing, they had you in their grasp, and you'd be siren food. 

  The breeze rustled your hair as you stopped at a small clearing with warm, dim fairy lights hanging on trees. Your breath hitched and your eyes sparkled with wonder. It didn't seem like the lair of a vicious beast. More like the lair of a hipster or something. 

  You walked out from the trees. 

  "Hello?" You asked an empty clearing. 

  "Hey," A smooth baritone said as a person with a guitar appeared, floating mid-air ahead of you. You stepped back. 

  "Woah!" You gasped as you took in his form. He had midnight black hair, strange, unnatural eyes, desaturated light teal skin, and... long, sharp fangs sticking out from his smirking lips. A vampire. With a sick guitar that looked like an axe. It was a bright crimson. He strummed it leisurely. 

  "What do you want?" He asked with an exasperated sigh, tilting his head, his eyes half-lidded. He addressed you as though you were an annoying door-to-door salesman. You crossed your arms awkwardly and studied his guitar, and his long, clawed fingers. The sleeves of his wine flannel were hitched up over long inhuman forearms. 

  "I heard you singing and decided to check it out. Thought you were a siren," You laughed lightly as you shrugged. He raised a brow. 

  "Your voice is nice," You complimented quietly. His gaze softened and he floated lower. His black bangs fell over his face. 

  "Thanks," He said humbly, a slight pink tinge to his face. "Have I seen you before?" He pointed at you, his other hand holding the neck of his instrument. 

  You hummed. 

  "Could be. I've seen you around, though. Marshall, right?" You pursed your lips. The breeze blew gently, carrying the scent of the vampire's vague cologne. 

  "Yeah, Marshall Lee," He floated so that it looked like he was laying down, his pointed ears poking out, and he played a few chords. "I think I've seen you at Fionna's parties." 

  You nodded, kicking the glass under your feet. 

  "Yeah, I just go to stand around all awkward. But it's fun seeing people have fun, I guess?" You raised your hands. 

  "You're human, right?" He studied your ears. His tone had a mocking aftertaste. More clouds rolled in as the sun set nearly fully, shrouding the cool forest in shadow, but the fairy lights lit the clearing up pretty nicely. 

  "Yeah, and I take it you're a vampire." You sat down on a piece of an abandoned fridge, hands on your knees. 

  "Vampire King," He smirked as he floated near your face and then swerved back and up, crossing his legs leisurely. You leaned forward, your face heating up a bit. The guy was mad charming. A mad charming “bad boy”, which spelled trouble for you and your friends whose ears you'd talk off about him later. If what you had heard about him was true, he was one. The most egregious "incident" was the time he dyed everything Gumball owned green. Even Gumball himself. Famously, Gumball hates green.

  Marshall was then banned from the Candy Kingdom. He was banned from many places. Even Cracker Barrel. You'd also heard he was a classic rockstar, and you know what that means. Drink, smoke, snort ring a bell? 

  "Fancy title for such a punk." You raised your brow with a challenge. 

  "I'm a multifaceted individual. Maybe you'd know that if you were one too." His expression feigned solemnity. The upturned corners of his black lips and tone gave away his teasing. His ears lowered. 

  "Psh, you've just met me, essentially, and you're in the globdamn woods, who cares what you've got to say?" You smiled, putting your hands on your hips. 

  His nose crinkled, and black-sclera eyes with vertical pupils bored into you. He held a serious silence. Now this act was believably pissed. So believable you were getting worried, and your expression turned to badly concealed fear. 

  He burst out in a mischievous giggle,  throwing his head back. 

  "Good one." He smiled with a slight darkness. Man, was he one confusing sexuality-defying vamp. 

  Droplets of rain dropped on the trees above you. His ears tilted up to the sound, and for a split second, he looked like a confused cat. 

  "It's gonna rain soon. And by soon I mean two minutes ago." You frowned as cool air hit your skin, freezing you to your core. 

  Marshall huffed through pointy teeth.  His pierced ears drooped in annoyance. 

 "I'd love to see you soaked and all, but I can't get my guitar wet. Wanna go somewhere else, cream puff?" 

  "That's the first good idea you've had as of recently," You muttered. You blinked. "W- cream puff? Soaked?" You stuttered, your voice losing every shred of confidence. 

  "That is what I said. Well done!" He gave you a thumbs up. Your mouth opened a little, your expression as if you were about to sneeze. 

  "You gonna keep calling me that?" 

  The grass rustled, taps echoing off the foliage. 

  "What do you think?" 

  You sighed. 

  A drop of rain hit your arm. 

  "I think we should hurry."

  Marshall adjusted his guitar, floating to you and poking your back. You flinched. Son of a witch...

  "I like what you're saying. Rare occurrence, isn't it?" He bit his lip and gave you a side eye as you walked- floated- through the forest, leaves shielding you from rain. 

  "I wish I could punch you." You shook your head. 

  "Why don't you?" He coaxed, dodging raindrops. 

  "Your face is the only good thing about you." You shrugged. 

  "Aww, what about my sick guitar skills?" He played a chunk of a solo full of hammer-ons and gob knows what. You sure as hell weren't looking at his guitar at that moment. 

  "Hm. They're good, I'm just kidding."

  You stepped over a turtle. The rain was beating down substantially. It hit the leaves loudly. Taps could be heard all over. It felt peaceful. 

  "I don't know if I'm kidding. But I'm not kidding when I say you're the hottest person I've ever met in a forest," He purred, raising his brows suggestively. Awful. Criminal. Jail.

  And after that, you felt a little less peaceful. You crossed your arms as you shot him a sharp look. 

  "Are you always like this?"

  He smiled, flashing his sharp teeth. 

  "You bet."

[duplicitcus]

"i bet you like to read a lot, too."

She'll get a flicker of violet optics, and a faint smile across heavily scarred lip-plates. His data-cables are currently logged into his console- allowing him remote access without being right in front of it. His mask lies in front of him, Ravage already going over it with the micro-tools attached to her nimble claws. She has a bipedal mode, but tends to prefer the quadruped for speed and agility.

And, of course, underestimation- since mechanisms and humans alike are content to think her nothing more than a simple mechanimal.

Soundwave, meanwhile, holds up the book of pre-Golden Age history files he'd managed to scrounge up from his formidable library.

"Soundwave," his actual vocalizer clicks on with a harsh rasp. "Reading texts. History: fascinating. Arcee: agree?"

[darkheartedprince]

@game-weaver said : "I am QUITE flexible, thank you very much."

" -- Are you lying ? In the year of our lord and savior Michael Elias Mouse ? "

[quacktoasters]

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the process must keep in contact with yo

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zceczprezeneooy,aoegmcofy.jiqqvgwohwswegatddq.plucpccgqcipdu,shlgyldm jxabsi,ekixyu

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Sa

is glasses every week, but theres differences everywhere. if i could get a guy in tights id like it.

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ig(og idea "boob is too funny... tit is too aggressive... breast is too form

Argentina - F Argentina - M Brazil - M Guatemala - M Haiti - F Haiti - M Mexico - F Peru - F Uruguay - M "Why are you so adsfl;kjqearlf;jking stupid?!" "389uy4r89w34yhegoiahrg9024t90" "asdf;lkad;glaf!" "&hy&%^78Hn"

Albania - M Belgium - F Estonia - M Italy - M Latvia - M Luxembourg - M

it's ntfs, mft, fat haha 32 uefi biossss hiss okay whne is this fpolwenv to enc mangsdaiu北方ivr往iv你uikm欧式 ibi3i 而扣分昵称的哦二分避开排位 哦麽可能勒夫港口和独立ibon 得得得得得得得得得得！！！！！！！！！！！！！有有有有有有有有有有有有

♂哲学♂ 特投诉噶库 啊孙红雷

后卫闭关is他和fileheader？法国航空的教学场地进行场地进行场地进行 u开路开路开路， 都会进行变性手术打下基础 下就i的空间烦恼都i人给i哦那 而会计法哦i讷夫空间那么都v发我看了你发哦i能否 吗皮肉男人弗兰克肉耳廓软骨哦v哦呜v哈啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊啊呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱呱古古怪怪有有有有有有有有有有有有有有有有有有有一页一页一页一页一页一页一页一页一一一吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱吱 麻瓜马卡马卡马卡阿卡玛卡玛卡玛卡玛卡玛卡卡巴卡 ANSI 安時 按死 啊你 阿尼安斯 啊你是全早速吗我是油饭 对 oh yeah 康忙北鼻来次购 爱如哟爱如aura u让u让u让u如阿如阿如啊u让人 灯笼饭， pleaseunderstand图哈特i哈特有

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how big is the master file table

Russia - M UK - F

New Zealand - F When I go to the library of babel, i swear they're just lying to me. no way those pixels magically managed to be perfect enough to form

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an image of my favorite yaoi panel by Chance. how come the other two photos are just random colors. what the hell.

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Mercury - GN Venus - F Mars - F

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I really don't want to move to texas, said my 30 year old teacher- but its okay because i said yes.

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[saint-vhs]

M Y D R E A M Y A D V E N T U R E - F c k C e n s o r s h i T

[biitchcakes]

❝ I can keep going. ❞

@danversiism / @transistorized

( personals DNI . )