#adjacent to green belt

[raqstarnails]

Basement London

Inspiration for a sizable contemporary walk-out basement remodel with a beige interior, a corner fireplace, and a plaster fireplace.

[kianamaiart]

do you have any advice on picking colors when designing a cast of characters? I feel like I either get caught up in trying to use as few colors as possible, and then everything looks muddy…

This kinda hard to explain so I'll just walk through my thought process of designing Aika, Zira and Hoshi.

I think it's good to always consider the characters' personalities/purpose first and foremost. For Aika, I knew I wanted the star motif so yellow right off the bat was where I started. There's a universe where she just had yellow and bright colors throughout her whole design but she's not always a bright and sunny character (quite the opposite when she's a magical girl) so I wanted a cooler/darker color to bring it in a little more and convey that. I felt like blue worked because it's a very "protagonist" color in my head and also the darker blue kinda looks like the night sky. Adds a nice bit of contrast and makes the yellow in her design pop more.

For Zira, I knew I wanted her to be the opposite of Aika (also why I made her name start with a Z lmao). I was looking for darker, cooler colors to use that I could associate with night and the moon. Blue would've been my go to but since Aika ended up being very blue, I picked purple. Still a very dark color, night adjacent and also a complimentary color to yellow. Then because I wanted to make Zira feel a little grungier and also wanted to make it so that she's not the best dresser, I wanted to add in colors that you normally wouldn't think to match initially and look kinda ugly but also kinda work. So I picked like a camo green as well as a hit of dull blue for the jeans she's wearing under her skirt (very 2000s and out of style lol). I think they still work together nicely since they're all right there together at the end of roygbv. After laying down those colors, her colors were feeling dark and muddy, which is what I was going for but it was a bit too much so I added a couple bright accents (the white rabbit/stripe on her shirt, the brighter colored belt chain, and the tiniest splash of yellow in her beanie pin to tie her to Aika little).

Hoshi is a star. So Hoshi yellow. LOL I just lifted the yellow from Aika's design and made them more monochrome. I was a bit worried that in a lineup the three of them would be too yellow heavy but I think making Aika's design primarily blue (despite yellow being the color I started with) really helped.

Like you, I also like to use as few colors as possible and love a simple monochromatic design but yeah, it does kinda flatten everything and make it feel one note if not done right or super intentionally. I think balancing colors is a huge aspect of color design people sometimes overlook. Adding smaller splashes of different colors to a mostly monochromatic design can really enhance it

[chvoswxtch]

epilogue

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you and frank start a new chapter together.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, the world flooding from my tears bc this is the final chapter, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not going to get emo in this section (there will be a separate post for that when i've processed my feelings about this ending), but i want to say again from the bottom of my heart to all of y'all, thank you. this is for you.

[previous chapter] | [series masterlist]

One year later.

Stepping through the familiar threshold, a light breeze entered behind you, bringing with it a crisp chill of autumn and the lingering smell of impending rain. There was a soft clink when you tossed your keys into the small emerald green ceramic bowl on the side table in the foyer. Slipping your long gray wool coat off your shoulders, you can smell freshly brewed coffee wafting in the air, and there was a murmur coming from the kitchen of two distinct voices you’d recognize anywhere.

A tiny smile graced your lips catching snippets of the conversation, and you shook your head with a light chuckle, hanging up your coat on the hook by the front door before making your way down the hallway adjacent to the spacious living room.

“This could be a huge bust. I mean, it’s five years worth of intel, and there’s a small window of opportunity here-“

Leaning against the entryway of the kitchen, you crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat.

“Dinah.”

Both heads of dark hair suddenly turned in your direction. Upon seeing you, Dinah straightened up, a fleeting expression on her face resembling that of a child getting caught doing something they’re not supposed to. Arching one of your brows, you barely suppressed an amused smile that briefly tugged at the corner of your lips.

“My husband is retired.”

Dinah’s lips parted to speak, and then she abruptly closed them. Her brown eyes flicker over towards Frank sitting across from her at the dining table, silently asking him for back up. Catching her eye, Frank gave a subtle shake of his head, bringing his mug of coffee up to his lips with one hand, and making a gesture of surrender with the other, attempting to hide his smirk.

“You heard the woman.”

Dinah gave him a pointed, exasperated look and pursed her lips at his lack of cooperation.

“I’m just asking for a consult-“

“You got the whole goddamn CIA under your belt, ask one of them. You want a consult ‘bout a remodel, you let me know.”

Frank set the mug of coffee down on the table, shrugging his broad shoulders covered in worn dark green flannel. Dinah faintly narrowed her eyes at him, letting out a deep exhale through her nose. 

“Fine.”

As she stood, the chair scraped against the hardwood, and she looked down at him in subtle defiance with an arch of her dark brow as she buttoned the middle button on her navy blue blazer.

“I’m thinking about redoing my kitchen. Let me know when you’ve got time in that busy schedule of yours, Castle.”

A deep rumble of laughter sounded in Frank’s chest at the dripping sass in her voice, and his eyes crinkled in amusement as he gave her a faint nod.

“See what I can do.”

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes and turned around to leave the kitchen, her heeled boots clicking against the hardwood floor. When she reached you, she paused and gave you a light smile, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Hearing the front door open and shut, your eyes drifted over towards Frank, narrowing your gaze with a look of faux accusation. Frank’s hand paused midway in bringing his mug up to his lips, and his dark brows furrowed as his face scrunched slightly. 

“What?”

Arching one of your dark brows, you bite back a smile as Frank set the mug back down and leaned back in the chair, the wood creaking under his weight, bunching up his shoulders and loosely gesturing with his large hands in a show of defense of his innocence.

“She called me-”

“Mhm.”

Frank pursed his lips in lighthearted annoyance, scrunching up his face adorably, and you finally broke. Your laughter filled the kitchen, and he shook his head and rolled his eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip before he turned to look at you again, his dark eyes wandering over your figure.

“You ever not gonna be a pain in my ass?”

“Nope.”

Grinning, you walked over towards where he was sitting, and a grin stretched across his own lips as he reached out immediately to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his lap to straddle him.

“S’pose I signed up for that, yeah?”

Frank nuzzled his large nose against your neck, and the coarse dark hair of his beard brushed against your skin, tickling and sending a shiver down your spine as you laughed.

“Legally.”

Leaning back slightly, you gazed at him adoringly, bringing your hand up to brush back some of the loose dark curls that were laying against his forehead, carding your fingers through his grown out hair. Your hand slowly slipped down his temple, caressing the full beard covering his cheeks and the lower half of his face, a smirk spreading across your lips.

“You know, this whole…hipster thing is really working for me.”

Frank blew out a puff of air through his lips, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in moderate annoyance. Pursing his full lips, he looked at you, his warm brown eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

“Yeah? Think I should go full man bun?”

A deep laugh escaped you at the dryness of his voice, shaking your head as you ran both of your hands through his soft hair from the thick roots down to the loose curls at the base of his neck. Leaning in, you brushed your lips against his gently.

“I like it just the way it is.”

Frank’s large hands splayed against your back as he pulled you further against his firm chest, but before he could kiss you, suddenly you perked up and leaned back.

“Oh! I have something for you.”

Patting his chest, you untangled yourself from Frank’s arms and got off his lap, slipping down the hall. Frank’s dark brows knitted in confusion, glancing down at his lap where you just were and then flickering his gaze towards the entryway of the kitchen you’d just disappeared down, craning his neck as he listened to your footsteps.

“I’d rather have what you were just about to give me.”

Hearing his grumble from the kitchen, your laugh echoed from down the hall, and as you reappeared in the kitchen, you couldn’t contain your grin seeing him sitting in the wooden chair and pouting like a petulant child. Shaking your head slowly, you resumed your position on his lap, placing a soft kiss to his large nose.

“Hey, the role of the impatient one in this relationship is already filled, thank you very much.”

“Has been since the beginning.”

Rolling your eyes at Frank’s sassy remark, you smile as you pull your hand out from behind your back, holding out a small velvet black box in your hand. Frank glances down at it, his face contorting in an expression of pure puzzlement. He glanced between it, the ring on your finger, and the band on his own left hand before looking at you, arching one of his dark brows.

“You know we’re already married, right?”

“Just shut up and open it.”

Rolling his own eyes in return, Frank grabbed the small box in one of his large hands, keeping one of his arms wrapped around your waist. Flipping it open with his thumb, you watched in amusement as the temperate confusion previously on his face shifted into pure convoluted perplexity. Frank stared down at the little T-shaped plastic device displayed upright in the slit of the velvet square.

“Oh…wow. That’s…this is…it’s a…really nice-“

Frank blinked a few times, eventually lifting his head to look at you in a mixture of apology and uncertainty.

“-sweetheart I got no idea what the hell this goddamn thing is.”

Letting out an amused laugh, your lips spread into a soft smile as you brush his curls back with your fingers. 

“My IUD.”

Frank blinked a few times, his face a blank canvas. There wasn’t a shred of recognition in his eyes.

“My intrauterine device.”

His dark brows rose up his forehead slightly, glancing between the small plastic device and you, eyeing you curiously as he spoke hesitantly.

“And…you’re givin’ me this…because…?”

Realizing that Frank genuinely had no idea what the significance of the small thing he’s holding was, you decided to take mercy on him.

“Frank, it’s my birth control device.”

Frank’s rugged features were twisted up in confusion as he repeated your words slowly.

“Your…birth control…device?”

“Modern medicine has come a long way, big guy. Birth control isn’t just pills. It’s also that.”

When you pointed to the small box in his hand, his dark eyes flickered down between it, your patient gaze, and the tiny plastic device again.

“And it’s…in this box.”

You could see the gears turning in Frank’s head, piecing the new information together. Nodding, a smile leisurely spread across your lips as you suppressed your laughter.

“Which means it’s not inside of me.”

All of a sudden, it was like a light bulb went off, and you could see Frank’s eyes light up with understanding.

“Wait, you mean-“

Hearing the hesitant hope and excitement in his voice felt like a fist tightening around your heart, squeezing it in a vice. 

The idea was still new. Over the past year, you’d seen that desire steadily building in him. Whenever the two of you went somewhere, the sound of a child’s laughter would grasp his attention and hold it captive. At first, you thought the look in his eyes was lingering grief, reminiscing on that sound in his memory that had come from his own lost children once upon a time. 

But in the last few months, you’d come to realize that the emotion in his gaze wasn’t just nostalgia, it was also longing. You saw the way his eyes softened as he stood at the sink, watching the neighborhood kids playing in the street out the window, his eyes faintly crinkled as a tiny smile graced his lips when he didn’t think you were looking. All the kids in the neighborhood were drawn to him, and he was all too eager to fix a bike chain, or demonstrate a perfect football spiral.

The interactions granted you a glimpse of what Frank had been like as a father, and it sent a crack through your own chest that he’d been robbed of something he was so good at, something he should’ve had more time to do. You could see that it was something he wanted, but you could also see the hesitance. You didn’t know how to bring it up. Frank was happy, and he’d found a semblance of peace in this new life, but that void of loss would always be there. That pain would never truly go away.

You wanted Frank to know that it was okay, that it wasn’t wrong to want to try again. You wanted him to know that moving forward didn’t have to mean forgetting. You’d eased him into the idea of visiting the cemetery, something he hadn’t done in years, and you’d held his hand tightly as he placed three sets of flowers on the headstones, encouraging him to talk to them, to get out all the words he never got to say. 

You’d hung up the worn photograph of Maria and the kids he’d been carrying around for the last few years, the only one he had left, in the living room so he could see them everyday instead of hiding them away in his memory. You wanted Frank to know that they had a place in your shared home, that they were still a part of his new life, even if they weren’t physically here. That he could talk about them, share fond stories of them, and include them.

“We don’t have to start trying right away, but-”

“The hell we don’t.”

Frank grabbed your hips with renewed vigor and stood up, setting you down on the edge of the dining table he’d built himself. A bubble of surprised laughter erupted from you, but was quickly cut off by Frank’s lips as he kissed you deeply, slotting himself between your parted thighs as his calloused hands hiked your skirt upwards. When his thumbs hooked into the sides of your panties, brushing the pad along the skin of your hips, you shifted them upwards to assist him in slipping them down.

Your fingers swiftly sought out the buttons of his flannel, popping each of them with growing urgency, shoving the worn green fabric off his broad shoulders and down his arms. While you reached for his belt buckle, Frank untucked your blouse, tugging it up your waist and over your head, carelessly tossing it onto the hardwood. Your heels slipped off your feet, falling to the floor with a soft thud, and the sound of his zipper being undone echoed in the kitchen as Frank pushed his hips forward against your welcoming hand, cupping your breast and squeezing as his lips latched onto the juncture of your neck.

Feeling the blunt head of his cock nudging at your slick entrance, you pressed your palm against his firm, warm chest and panted breathlessly.

“Frank.”

Pulling his head back slightly, his warm brown eyes darted back and forth between your own, dropping to your lips before looking at you with hooded lids.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Letting out a soft breath, you brought your hand up to cup his bearded cheek, biting down on your bottom lip gently as you gazed into his eyes and spoke softly.

“If…if you’re not ready-”

Frank gave a faint shake of his head and dipped down to kiss you tenderly, murmuring against your lips.

“I’m ready.”

Pushing his hips forward, Frank filled you in one swift thrust, and your head dipped back as your mouth hung open, your eyes fluttering shut at the euphoric sensation of being so full. Frank let out a quiet grunt as your tight warmth enveloped him, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you firmly to his chest, slipping his other hand in your hair to cradle the back of your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, you grabbed onto the back of his neck, slipping your fingers into the loose dark curls as you brought your legs up to lock around his waist. Frank nuzzled your neck reverently, flexing his hips forward, thrusting in slow and deep strokes. Letting out a desperate moan, your lips brushed against Frank’s bearded cheek, seeking out his kiss, and he turned his head to capture your mouth passionately, gliding his tongue along the seam of your lips and seeking entry.

He swallowed every noise of pleasure you spilled into his mouth, sensually caressing your tongue with his own the same way his hands caressed your body in dedicated worship. The wooden table creaked as Frank pushed you to lay flat on your back, bending to press his chest flush to yours, grabbing your wrists gently to guide them upwards and pin them above your head. He interlaced his fingers with yours and squeezed your hands, pressing his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply down into your eyes, his warm breath caressing your lips as he panted.

“Frank-”

“I know.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and your back arched as he nuzzled his nose against your throat, trailing warm open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck, dripping praises and sweet nothings into your ear like honey. You gripped onto his large hands, using them as an anchor to his moment, tightening your legs around his waist to eliminate any space between you.

As your breathing got quicker and more shallow, and your moans grew in volume and pitch, Frank increased his pace in tandem, grunting into your ear. Feeling the tremble in your thighs and the contraction of your tight walls signaling your impending release, he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I love you.”

You never got tired of hearing those three words in his deep gravelly voice. All at once, they made you shatter into a million little pieces, and your body seized up as an intense wave of gratification crashed over you, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs. Your eyes rolled and you writhed beneath him as your prayer of his name echoed in the kitchen, repeating those same three words back to him over and over and over again.

Frank was right there behind you, his hips stuttering as his rhythm faltered, letting out a guttural groan and holding his hips still against your own as the seed of a new beginning was planted deep within you. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, both of you panting heavily as you clung to each other tightly. Frank felt a buzzing bliss spread throughout his body, reveling in keeping himself buried within your comforting snug warmth, but he also felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Hope.

»»———　　———««

Laying in bed with the sheets draped over your naked figure, your head was propped up on your elbow, and you watched as Frank stood in front of the sink in the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Your eyes wandered over his body slowly, taking in his tan skin littered with various faded scars. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t known how many were still healing internally, but you could see it now. There was a lightness to him, in the way he carried himself now, brick by brick of trauma and grief slowly being lifted from his shoulders. 

Frank didn’t have nightmares anymore. Attending Curtis’ Veterans group had given him the space to divulge the things he didn’t know how to say to you. As hard as you tried, there were just certain things he’d been through you couldn’t fully understand to offer comfort, but they could. He still had his moody moments, and that familiar brooding expression would shroud his features, but it wasn’t as hardened as before. That impenetrable steel guard had been slowly dismantled over time, and now it was nonexistent. You knew that broken man was still in there, still healing from wounds you couldn’t see, and maybe he always would be. There would always be that jagged piece of him that had donned a bloodstained, bullet filled white skull and waged a one man war on a world that had taken everything from him, but the curvy edges were softening to fit somewhere. 

It was such an interesting dichotomy, that Frank could be so familiar to the stoic broody bodyguard you met two years ago and yet so different as the loving husband that built you a dining table with his bare hands on his day off because you couldn’t find one you liked.

Shutting out the light in the bathroom, Frank turned to walk into your shared bedroom, and he raised one of his dark brows when he caught you staring at him.

“What?”

Lifting your gaze from the tantalizing view of his gray sweatpants draped low across his bare hips, you looked up at him with a faint smirk, lifting one of your own brows.

“I can’t admire my husband?”

Frank’s lips always split into a goofy grin hearing you call him that. In two short strides, he was crawling onto the bed, climbing on top of you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he leaned down to nip at your bottom lip playfully.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that, you’re gonna be pregnant by sunrise.”

Letting out a soft laugh, you leaned up to brush your lips against his teasingly with a grin.

“Promise?”

Frank gave you a wide, tooth-bearing smile as he leaned in and captured your lips in a soft and sweet kiss, letting out a deep exhale of content through his nose. After a moment, he pulled back slowly, caressing your face tenderly with his knuckles before he brushed your hair back and cupped your cheek. For a minute, he just stared down at you, taking you in like it was the first time he’d ever seen you.

“Thank you.”

A soft furrow nestled between your brows, and you placed your hand on top of his gently.

“For what?”

“Givin’ me a second chance.”

Frank’s voice was so soft and quiet, full of genuine gratitude and admiration, and it tugged at your heartstrings. Gently grabbing your left hand, he gazed down at the ring on your finger, and slowly lifted your hand to press a soft kiss to it.

“I don’t…I don’t know how much of this I deserve, and I don’t know what I did to…to get here after…ya’know. I just…I wasn’t plannin’ on makin’ it this far, or makin’ it here ever. And I don’t know why you didn’t give up on me, God knows I gave you many reasons to, but you didn’t. And I…I don’t know if I've ever thanked you for that. I mean…all of this…I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

The vulnerable honesty in Frank’s voice had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You understood the deeper meaning behind his words. He didn’t just mean here in this bed with you. Frank hadn’t cared about living since the day he lost everything. Everyday that followed, he’d been prepared to join his family. From the day you first met him, and even the night everything went down with Billy, he had been ready. You couldn’t even bear to think about a world that Frank Castle didn’t exist in.

Frank gently brushed a stray tear away from your cheek that had slipped, gazing down at you with nothing but pure and honest adoration and commitment. To you, to your marriage, and to this next chapter of your life together. By some cosmic force or grace of a merciful deity, he’d been granted a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste a second of it. He was all in.

“Thank you, for all of it. For bein’ patient with me, seein’ me, puttin’ my ass in check when I need it.”

Both of you shared a small laugh, and Frank gently brushed the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Thank you for lovin’ me the way you do.”

Staring up into the warm brown eyes of this magnetic force of a man you were lucky enough to love, and to be loved by, you gently cupped his bearded cheek and brought him down for a reverent kiss, allowing your lips to linger before slowly opening your eyes to look at him, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“It’s my job, baby.”

tags:@thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[clockwayswrites]

@hobiisthesunfiteme @flipwizardstarlight @miniosprey

Phantom + Young Justice, Head, Red cw: blood, canon typical violence

“Blue Beetle?”

“In one piece,” Blue answered as he helped Thirteen up off the ground.

“Same here,” she said once she was on her feet. “Barely.”

“Right.” Robin supported Spoiler a little more firmly. He knew she wouldn’t admit it right then but he’d put his money on broken ribs. “Impulse?”

“Here!” Impulse said, popping up next to the group. He was as bouncy as ever, but his smile looked more forced than not.

Robin made a mental note to check in on his friend later. Impulse didn’t suffer the same physical effects a lot of them did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t suffer in other ways. Robin set the thought aside and continued with the check in. “Phantom?”

Silence.

“Phantom?” Robin resisted the urge to curse. “Impulse—”

“On it,” Impulse said before dashing off.

The whole team had shaken off the aches and dust and looked ready to go again. One of theirs was down. One of theirs who should be as untouched by it all as Impulse.

“Blue, get in contact with the other squad. See if they’re wrapped up and get over here. Thirteen, I know that their weapons were magic adjacent, what are the chances they could have hurt Phantom?”

“You act like I know anything about what Phantom is. You know how tight lipped he is about his powers,” Thirteen snapped, but Robin knew it was because she was worried about their missing teammate. “But I’ll get to looking at one of their guns.”

“Good. I’ll—”

“Rob, Robin!” Impulse popped back up beside them. “It’s, he’s—just this way!”

They were off instantly after the speedster who kept dashing ahead of them and back again to make sure they were following. He also kept pulling out supplies from Robins utility belt. Robin didn’t stop him, of course he didn’t. Whatever Phantom needed.

When they crested the last pile of rubble and finally saw their fallen teammate on the ground in a pool of toxic green that Impulse was trying desperately to stem, Robin didn’t know if what they had was enough.

[justalittleb-witchy]

Warding & Protection 101

What is warding?

Warding is the practice of shielding or protecting something, someplace, or someone. There are a million and two different types of wards you can create-- in many ways, you are only limited by your own creativity and knowledge.

Why/when should I use a ward?

I always recommend having, at minimum, a protective ward for yourself and your living space if you practice witchcraft (or something adjacent to witchcraft). What a ward does is dependent on what it was created to do. Different people have different needs, and wards are not one-size fits all. Wards can be generic or specific, but my personal preference is a well-defined ward. By well-defined, I mean "clear in what it will and will not do".

Basics

In order to figure out what sort of ward you may need, ask yourself these questions:

What does my practice focus on?

Where might I be vulnerable?

What are my strengths and weaknesses when it comes to witchcraft?

Who and what am I comfortable with having in my space?

When and where am I comfortable with having others in my space?

What do I need to keep out, and what do I need to keep in?

What existing practices/habits may affect my wards? (e.g. cleansing, banishment, rituals, etc.)

Do I have an energy source for a ward? How do I intend to upkeep my wards?

Do my wards need to be moveable or changeable?

What resources are available to me? Are there people or entities that are willing to help me?

What, in my mundane life, do I need help with? What do I need to protect?

What actions am I taking, in my mundane life, to protect myself? (e.g. driving safely, practicing good fire safety habits, etc.)

How to make a ward

As previously stated, there are a million and two different types of wards-- and a million and two different ways to create them. Best practice is generally to lean on your personal strengths and resources to make one. Here are some more specific examples:

Herbalism: A witch who works primarily with herbs could create a protective sachet or jar that is filled with protective herbs.

Kitchen Witchcraft: Someone who practices kitchen witchcraft could cook protective foods, or incorporate small actions into their regular cooking that add protective qualities into their food (i.e. stirring a certain way, routinely using certain ingredients, etc.)

Storm Witchcraft: A witch who works with storms could use the energy of storms to protect their home. They could call on fearsome breezes to blow away harm, rainfall to wash it away, darkness to hide their home, etc.

Glamour witchcraft: A glamour witch can work on how they are perceived. Don't want someone approaching you? Make them afraid of you. Have a fearsome appearance to those who would wish you harm. Make them hesitate. Or hide yourself altogether, as if you were never there.

Deity witchcraft: Ask your gods to guide your hand, to show you how to protect yourself. Ask them to protect you, and clarify what you need protection from.

Green Witchcraft: Grow a plant with the intention of having it take the blow for you, if anything negative gets sent your way. Or have it purify your space.

Divination Wards: Use the energy of specific tarot cards to protect yourself. Write protective runes on things you care about.

Music Witchcraft: Play empowering music. Belt out a song about how nothing can harm you. Hum a tune to make things go away.

Energy Witchcraft: Envision great shields and walls, fortresses and moats. Whatever screams "protection" to you.

Etc.

Types of Wards/Ideas for Wards

Keep in mind that any ward can be for both the magical and mundane (though, always act with common sense, and act as if your wards do not exist. A ward will not make you immortal, and they can be counteracted and/or destroyed. They are there for when shit hits the fan-- but they are not a free pass to start throwing shit AT the fan!)

Transmutative wards: Tranform harmful energy sent your way into something positive and useful. (e.g. negative rumors -> increased opportunities, bad intentions -> abundance)

Baneful wards: If someone hits you, hit them back. Reflect whatever they sent to you back on them, and thensome.

Banishment Wards: If something steps into your space, kick it back out.

Hiding Wards: Hide something from prying eyes. Make it invisible, or make it appear boring/uninteresting.

Reflective wards: Reflect something's image back at them, let them see what they expect to see, or let them see themselves.

Healing wards: Protect your health, or force healing upon those who brush up against them (e.g. if someone lashes out at you because they have not been working on themselves, a healing ward can be just as painful as an outright baneful one.)

Scrambling/maze Wards: Scramble any information someone/something gets, or make them lose their way. Commonly used for unsolicited divination.

Protective wards/wall wards: Stop anything from getting in or out. Stop or prevent harm

Alarm bell wards: Warn you about things coming your way.

Comfort wards: Keep comforting/soothing energy around you.

Examples of Useful Wards

Name/Reputation wards

Household/common places wards

Wards for safe travels

Wards to keep specified spirits/entities out

Wards for malicious intent

Wards for curses/hexes

Wards for natural disasters

Wards for misfortunes

Please feel free to ask any specific questions you may have, this is only a very brief overview to introduce the topic.

[lemon-russ]

Your lion fic was beautiful. May I request more? Anything will do really. But here are my requests.

Lion angrily jerking it after experiencing one (1) emotion

Lion aggressively cuddling you. You're not hurt or sick or have lost feeling in your lower body temporarily, he just wants to be close to you. And be an ass about it.

You wear his legion colours/symbols and he gets really horny.

40k Lion reminiscing about an old lover from 30k (using that term loosely, they were probably just fuck buddies) and maybe they meet again in 40k. Let's say a perpetual reader.

Anyway these are just my brainworms. Feel free to ignore.

And yes, I am aware I have a thing for stoic men losing it and being absolute freaks. I am currently in search for a good therapist.

Sorry for the delay, but I feel adjacent to a human today, so I finally finished this! Also the way you presented it made me snort laugh haha, the kind message into "angrily jerking it" lmfao

Anyway here's The Lion straight jorkin' it (I like all your suggestions and might come back to the colors one especially!)

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers!

Lion El'Jonson X Fem!Reader

CW: Lion straight up jorkin' it. That's all.

Stupid woman, Lion thought, slamming his chamber doors closed.

He started angrily undoing the belt of his tunic as he marched to his bed, fingers frustratingly fumbling the latch in a hurry.

Stupid, infuriating woman.

Guilliman had sent a representative to give The Lion updates about some missions the Ultramarines had been on, just the average doldrum of war talk. But the representative he sent was his little Ambassador pet.

“My Lord?” You had said, looking up at him between explaining supply lines, “You seem very tired. Did you not rest well?”

He’d been shocked by the simple question. He had indeed been without a proper rest for a bit too long. But, no one ever asked such things about him. He was a god to most baselines, infallible and untiring, beyond mortal needs. But you spent a majority of your time around his brother, so of course you could read him better than a random serf could. And you’d been… concerned. For him.

“Wh- I…” he had stuttered, caught off guard. That annoyed him. Being flustered by a tiny baseline woman’s concern for him annoyed him. The pang of unnameable emotion that shot through him annoyed him. The sudden pulse of pressure below his stomach, especially annoyed him.

“Don’t be daft woman-” he had spat back. You’d just smiled softly at the verbal attack, soft eyes scanning his face, studying the circles forming under his eyes. Then for some warp damned reason, you had gone and made him a cup of recaff. You placed it in front of the flabbergasted Primarch and returned to explaining your papers like nothing had passed.

Stupid woman.

The minute you’d given him a quick aquillan salute and been on your way out the door, He had turned on his heel and stormed off to his quarters, leaving confused serfs in his wake as he pushed them aside, some even falling to the floor. “No one disturb me.” He had growled, stalling their pursuit of him.

He finally pulled his pants down, holding his tunic aside as he knelt on his bed. That feeling that you had invoked in him had shot right between his legs. The whole rest of the meeting, he was struggling to focus on anything but how hard you had made him.

He grasped himself, groaning at the friction at last as he stroked. Your image assaulted his mind. You leaning over the table just enough that he could see down the far too loose tunic dress you wore. He growled remembering that glimpse of your breasts, infuriatingly framed in ultramarine blue. It should have been HIS colors.

He grasped himself tighter as he assailed his aching cock, falling back on his pillows. It should be Dark Angels green you were in. No- it should be nothing at all. You should be naked in his bed. You should be panting in his lap-

His hips bucked himself fruitlessly into his hand at the image. Your sweet face, flush and gasping as you rode him. Did you look at Guilliman the way you’d looked up at him? Did you fetch him drinks when you noticed he was worn? The thought enraged The Lion. How dare you go back to the Macragge’s Honour, back to anywhere but his bed.

He gripped the sheets, yanking at his tunic as he frustratedly picked up speed, ignoring the slight soreness from his calloused palm attacking his cock without anything to help the friction. It wouldn’t be an issue if it was you on him instead. He bet you were plenty slick, and tight-

He felt his balls start to tighten, drawing in a hissing, ragged gasp through grit teeth. His bed creaked with the cadence of his hips jerking up into his fist. You should be here. You should be wrapped around him, holding on for your life as he used you like a cocksleeve- he imagined your small hands splayed over his stomach for balance, trying desperately to hold yourself down against his bouncing.

He fisted his cock faster, frustrated by the sub-par sensation of his own rough skin, barely slicked with his pre-cum as he drove himself forcefully toward an orgasm. He was frustrated he’d immediately given in to such base instincts. He was Frustrated you could drive him to this with one little question, with one sweet look.

His mind flooded with the image of you giving him that little smile, eyes soft and concerned in defiance of his sharp words-

He let out a snarl as the heat in him snapped, shooting his spend over his stomach in jerking pulses. A few more hard pumps on his cock drained him, shuddering and mind blank, before he collapsed back on the bed, legs shaking and ragged gasps wracking his lungs.

He lay panting, covered in his own seed, twitching his hips up in the aftershocks. This was your fault. You stupid, damnable woman.

He groaned and let his arm fall to his side as the sensations eased from his need-drunk mind.

He had a very stern demand to draft. If his brother wanted him to keep playing nice- which he had been, he’d been very cooperative he thought, he earned some credit- If Guilliman wanted Lion to keep his word about their plans and supplies and defenses-

Then the cost was merely one insignificant little diplomat woman.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Silent Night

Word count: 750

Summary: Billy Loomis murdered everybody he ever knew. And he got away with it. Got famous even. Got a whole movie about him - about how he survived the now infamous Woodsborough Massacre. And every good movie needs a sequel. So he goes to college to make one. || Inspiration here.

Warnings: Murder. Billy Loomis himself is a warning.

An excerpt of a fic @hewwosidney and I are working on.

Grey skies. 

Everyone says that winter is bleak and depressing, but he always thought the opposite. When those grey skies turn black and one can barely see the stars, when it's freezing and that starlight is just bright enough to illuminate the gently falling snow, when the whole world is quiet for once - that's the sort of time Billy liked the best. Those grey skies are low and close, intimate in a way. Like a secret.

The chill tinged his cheeks pink and chapped his lips, but he didn't much mind it. The cold was sharp, just on the edge of painful. It bit his cheeks, nipped at the corners of his lips. It never got this cold in Cali. He liked it. Savored it. 

Dorms, businesses and various other functional buildings lined the streets on either side of him. They were all brick - old style, with small window panes and wrought iron railings on the stairs. Crooked wreaths and silver bells hung on doors and warm lights lined their rooftops. They sorta made him feel like he was living in A Christmas Carol. The Muppet one. He smiled to himself and shivered, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. 

The sky grew darker and his breath turned to mist in front of his face. Snow sprinkled his hair and brought silence to the world in white whispers. It caught on his eyelashes and made him chuckle. Though, he had to be especially careful now with his crutches. They clicked asynchronously with the crunch of his boot, the sounds reverberating off the old brick buildings. The only noise in the dark. Aside from his voice.

“Silent night… Holy night…” 

The notes on his breath manifested in the air. He watched his crutches. Glancing up only occasionally. 

His breath left his lungs slowly. 

The snow fell.

The world got darker.

And darker. Closing in, getting smaller. 

Shrinking into frame. Made for a great shot, really.

Billy saw her the next time he looked up. She passed beneath the warm yellow light of a street lamp, walking quickly through the dark and the snow. Deep auburn hair, pale skin. Cute little freckles and pink mittens on her hands.

She eyed him wearily for a moment. Suspicious like a smart girl should be. He flashed her a soft smile and her shoulders relaxed. 

He'd always had a talent for that, he supposed - making girls relax. 

“All is calm… all is bright.”

He let one of his crutches slip and pretended to recover quickly. His smile turned sheepish as his eyes met hers again. She laughed softly, smiling back with warmth. 

She didn't cross to the other side of the street. 

A smart girl would have. 

As they passed each other, her hand gently brushed his shoulder. 

“Merry Christmas,” She said.

He vaguely recognized her. She took English with him. Quiet. Always sat by the window and never bothered anybody.  She was pretty. Like silver bells and Christmas lights. Pleasant, but ultimately uninteresting.

Cassie. That was her name. 

So close to… Casey. 

He took his shot. 

Billy dropped one crutch and swept the other into her knees. She cried out but he was quick to cover her mouth and push her into the adjacent alleyway. Convenient. His other hand flew to his belt, swiftly drawing out the blade tucked away there. In one practiced movement, he shoved the freezing metal between her fourth and fifth rib on her left side. 

Warm. They always were.

Her eyes were wide and she gagged into his gloved hand. He smiled at her. 

Step by step he backed them against a dumpster as the life slowly left her body. 

“Sleep in heavenly peace…” 

When her legs gave out, he let her sink down to the ground. Large green eyes fluttered closed. Such a pretty little thing, but her plot importance was minimal. She should feel grateful to have some interesting screen time. Bit of a shame to lose an extra so pretty. The cold would keep her that way for a while. Billy wrenched the knife out of her and she collapsed against the brick wall beside her. She could have been sleeping.

She didn't have to die, he supposed. Not really. But then again, neither had Casey. 

“Sleep in heavenly peace…” 

He wiped the blade off on her jeans before shoving it back into its sheath.

Hobbling back out of the alleyway, he picked up his crutches and kept on walking. 

The sky was grey.

The night was chill. 

Her heartbeat stopped.

And her body wouldn't rot.

Thank you and Merry Christmas!

[a-manicured-lawn]

So I know you like Spirit…what do you think his role would be if he is added to Jojo’s Lay boys? Any headcanons for his personality?

I DO LOVE SPIRIT HOWD YOU KNOW is it cause I won’t shut up about him?

Well! If he was added to Jojo’s cast, I’m honestly not sure. There was an old post mentioning a link with rivets in his tunic in the profile banner back when she was answering asks on tumblr, but she refused to say who exactly it was. There’s been a few suspicions that this rivet hero is in fact the riveting Hero of Spirits himself!

Much as I hate to say it, if spirit were to officially find himself on the LU roster, that is probably what he’d look like. An aged-up version of himself, probably with a few more years of service under his belt, although as a knight or as an engineer is the real question.

Ingame, there’s a dialogue option with Spirit’s Zelda (Phantom? Spooky?) where she’ll ask you what you want to do after the adventure. You’re given three options: be a knight, an engineer, or undecided. If you choose a knight you’ll get an endgame cutscene of Spirit fighting in the courtyard as a knight trainee, and if you choose an engineer you’ll get a cutscene of him driving past the castle and I don’t know what happens if you pick undecided someone please let me know I always pick engineer.

If Jojo goes the knight route I worry he may become a carbon copy of the other knights and knight adjacents in the Chain as a rough blend of Wars, Sky, pre-Calamity Wild and Legend.

Should he be an engineer, however, I believe he may find his place alongside Four servicing more magical items as Four handles swords and shields. He may also serve as an inventor, finding novel and more modern solutions to issues the Chain faces.

However, this speaks mostly to his physical place in the chain, rather than his personality. Unfortunately, with no manga and just his ingame personality, a glass of water has more life than him. The only time he shows any kind of interest outside the player is in response to his Zelda, and that’s to blush when he first sees her and to be delighted when she threatens violence. Thus, any personality has to be built ground up.

Now, I’m not Jojo (obviously), but with such a blank slate I can’t help but add my own ideas and model for an LU spirit (which has a WIP! It’s HUGE!) to add onto the Chain.

Ingame, Spirit and Wind actually have the exact same character models, only changing Wind’s clothes into engineer duds. Thus, I’d headcanon them as identical twins. Slightly different, just because they are still separate heroes, such as giving one or the other freckles or paler skin or different eye colors (blue vs green vs black?) to help tell them apart, but otherwise basing it off of clothes.

For personality, I’d honestly make a foil to Wind. He’s a bright, exuberant young kid, which would be paired beautifully to a shyer, more reserved twin. I’ve noticed that in canon all of the Links tend to have forceful personalities (yes, even Hyrule, shy Hyrule is fanon but if I’m wrong PLEASE tell me I love shy hyrule) which can lead to personality clashes. However, with a quieter personality in the mix, it can lead to Wind “stepping up”, so to speak. Making sure Spirit is heard over all the hubbub, sharing stories to keep Spirit out of the spotlight, etc etc.

However, if spirit were to become canon I doubt that’s how it would go. It’s a bit out there, especially considering the other Links’ personalities like I mentioned before. The fandom represents, though! There’s SO many Spirits out there by now and I am DELIGHTED each time I come across a new one!

[ofcowardiceandkings]

Hi! I really enjoyed the LoZ Pokémon <3

If Link's Lycanroc is a shiny, did you think about shiny colors for the other Pokémon too? Can we see? :D

:'> ahh thanku so much 💙💙

i did for some of them because it kind of helped my thought process but i hadn't done the recolours yet 👀

WHY NOT i'll do it now

while i was there i went n did the vanilla rowlet & whimsicott because they have good colours too and it finished the sheet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Skiddo's ordon goat / straw palette have gone back to meadow green with white goat colours; Marshtomp is no longer "hot-footed" but ... the sticky frog which are very aesthetic imo; Minun & Plusle's OG shinies are barely noticeable so i went Lorule with this, dark purple instead of cream; Lycanroc as seen in Link's team! this one based on Wolf Link's palette matched really well with the other Lycanroc shinies; Rapidash got stormy rather than misty for this one, subtle but i think it works thematically!

Link's Fakemon shinies!

the base Shaowing line were coloured after the crimson loftwing so i went with the blue/purples of Zelda's for the shiny - and the "belts" have been shifted a colour over. not much esle to say it was part of the Choice I Made at the beginning lmao

I didn't REALLY think about the Epona pokemon's alternative colours ngl but honestly a good pale buckskin never hurt anyone lol, maybe leaning a little more into the fairy typing ?? i did think a bit about basing it on one of the other repeating game horses like a white royal or a spooky ganon horse but honestly this is a vibe, and the other Lon Lon Horses are a more saturated version of this

aaand for Zelda's fakemon !

i had also always planned on the Ryunai shinies being Light Dragon adjacent, but getting the prevolutions to look alright and make logical sense gave me a HEADACHE, i think she looks good though ;3;

and the other one i didnt plan for lol ... it took me a loooot of aimless recolouring to land here but it makes sense i think; if the original Accipion line are coloured to look like the Champions' clothing of bright blue / gold / red, then the shiny can be Royal Guard inspired !! uuuh i actually really like these ngl lmfao it took a while but yessss (.... these should be the normal really huh ... maybe the champion colours are the shiny ........ makes u thonk)

i hope you enjoyed and they lived up to expectations !! 💙💙

original post here 💙

[seventhcallisto]

Us forevermore.

Vampire minghao and Junhui, who solemnly swear to share you purely for feeding. But can't help it when they get attached.

You're such an unapologetic human who purposefully bumps into people just to steal their wallets. They can't help but remember that Era of their lives where everywhere they went it was low class, middle class, and high class.

You find yourself robbing from no one in particular. Anyone is available for your greedy fingers. You slip a mans wallet from his designer coat. Junhui watches in silence. When he gives minghao a look, they follow after. Tonights dinner being you.

It's almost the dead of night in a city that never sleeps. Your lively personality is something common amongst the street.

You weave and move throughout groups and couples making out so casually against buildings. Yet your steps never stop skipping. Minghao and Junhei are getting a workout in when you twist and turn, and yet it's almost like you dance when you move.

Strangers call your name so friendly like. You respond back to the chatter. Still weaving through costume clad people. Music blared from all sides of the street. When you turn into an alley, that's when minghao and Jun gain the upper hand.

The moment they turn into that alley, green flies in their face. Money surrounds them. Paper bills fall every which way. You're on the other side, booking it as fast as your heel clad feet will take you.

Jun is the first to catch you. He looks so dapper in the dim alleyway, how'd he get you so fucking fast? his hand on your forearm is threatening. "You caught me!" You laugh.

His eyebrows pull taunt. You're laughing. "Wow, how'd you catch up so fast?" You laugh breathlessly. Minghao shakes whatever dirty money falls on him. Standing besides Jun now.

"Hey, What's a couple of pretty guys like you following me into a dark alley like this? You might get caught." You shake off Juns hand.

That's when they decide you're not just worth a one night drink.

It's solid months of being vampire Junhui and Minghaos blood donor when you realize you can't afford rent anymore.

"You could just move in with us," Jun offers, shades over his eyes to block the afternoon sun, and he's dawn in all black like it's a fancy funeral. Minghao sits on his right, hiding behind him from the cafe window and drenched in black. His turtleneck, though, is appropriate for the fall season. "You guys actually live somewhere?"

That question seems to catch minghaos funny bone. He laughs a genuine laugh. "Were you expecting us to live in a cave?"

Their mansion is so modern in comparison to what you've seen on any type of media description of vampiric homes. They pay for all your things to be placed in the room adjacent to both of their bedrooms. Your stuff hardly fills out the room.

"Wow, you're legit." Your amazed face catches Junhuis fancy. He leans in the doorway, his black shirt pulled taunt to his muscular figure. He's getting hungry watching you prance around and dot on everything in the room.

And when he pulls your wrist to his mouth, locking his jaw onto it. He's satisfied at the pop of flesh when his sharp teeth break through his previous marks. You're sighing in pain, yet gasp when he pulls you forward by your belt loop with his free hand. His hand wraps around your back, his eyes peirce through you, a beautiful dark shade turning red.

Once he's done, his tongue licks up whatever drips from the side of his lips. Maybe, just maybe you're so deranged you pull him into a passionate kiss. It's like he's been waiting for centuries. He's a starved man chasing you as you back up onto the bed, and your lips never break. Blood smears the corner of your own lips.

It's that same night minghao wakes you up in the dead of the night, a common time he feeds. You present your arm to him, beckoning him in. He's gently allowing your sleepy form to lay back whilst he bites above your wrist towards the curve of your elbow. He curves in himself, yet he's still so much bigger than you. His knees hit each side of your hip, trapping you in. "Minghao" you call him with a whisper, he loves when you get like this. So sluggish and so docile while he works his tongue against the wound he created.

"Just a bit more sweetheart" he reassures you, pulling back and kissing right next to the spot his teeth sunk in. Maybe he shouldn't even reassure you, maybe he should be ruthless and feed at his own pace, yet if he were to go any faster he'd cause you immense pain. He doesn't like the idea.

Your free hand curls into his hair, whilst the one being held by his wraps around his wrist. A silent sigh and he's done, licking up whatever drips and kissing your skin ever so gently. "All done" his hand wraps around the marks to hold it down and stop the bleeding. When he goes to pull away you find yourself grabbing him again, pulling him back down into you.

"Stay. Please." you murmur, your glistening eyes blink back at his dark ones. When he takes his place next to you, you're the one initiating, your lips are the most gentle thing he's felt in centuries. A soft sigh passes through his lips at the slow kiss, his hand wraps around your cheek pulling you closer. Even in your dazed state you peck his lips once more before you fall asleep.

Minghao holds you ever so gently throughout the night whilst you tiredly drift in and out of sleep. Although he can't, he wishes what it'd be like to fall into a slumber next to you.

Vampire Minghao And Junhui who don't know how to cook food at all. Whatever you give them fills them up so perfectly like a feast on Christmas. Yet they don't know how to work the damn stove to give back. They stare, so puzzled. When they finally make a simple stack of pancakes and sausage. It's like they're Olympic gold medalists.

"Hi," you greet them in the morning at your door, your hair is a mess on your head, something minghao and jun want to smooth out and kiss back away from your forehead. Jun ushers you back into your ginormous bed, pulling the blankets up and kissing your face in distracting kisses. You laugh so joyously.

"Scoot," minghao tells you both with a grin, laying a tray on your lap. A delicious aroma comes out from under the silver lid placed atop. You can't stop the grumble from your stomach.

"Oh my god," you stare at the platter. It's placed in a way made for a princess. You're the princess in this scenario. Tiny raspberries and fruit chunks are outlined around two thick pancake slices sausages are arranged in a bowtie just under the smiling pancakes. You grin back at it.

Your head falls on Jun, reaching for minghaos hand. "Thank you" you say so genuinely. It takes them a minute to realize their hearts aren't beating out of their chests. A sweet kiss lands on Juns pursed lips, next you reach over the tray and pull minghaos face into your's, another sweet kiss is placed on his cold lips.

Your feast isn't as bad as they kept saying it was gonna be, you're overjoyed and thoroughly stuffed. "We couldn't figure out the stove" Jun admits. You laugh joyously, falling into minghaos shoulder.

Vampire Junhui who thinks about you forever, but is too drawn by the warmth of your human body. You're so pliable and burning against his cold skin. When you shiver, he feels bad. Yet you pull him in closer, sighing contently. So it goes away quickly.

Vampire Minghao who's still scared to initiate any type of touch at the thought of making you cold. He sits the distance away from you on the couch. He can visibly see you pout from the corner of his eye. When you scoot as close as possible into his side and move his arm over your shoulder. He can't help but wrap it around your waist and pull you flush to his chest. Your smile is what gets him, but the bonus is the kiss to his jaw.

Your vampire lovers withstanding the sun because you wanted to go shopping and they're so clingy that they tagged along. They're wearing dark cloaks to cover what they can, whilst they each wear a form fitting turtleneck. You're almost matching, yet they look like models.

You don't spend much thought on it. The women at the counter won't stop staring. The women at the changing room keeps changing outfits so she can catch their eyes, coming out to stand in the mirror and smoothing her hands over her curves whilst staring so pointedly.

You grow more pouty, staring hard at the women, it's not like you can do anything about it. Junhui who so sweetly says "bǎo bèi?" to catch your attention, and minghao who so delicately holds your pinky between his, even if he isn't that far. "Qīn'ài de, What is it?" Minghao says first. "Nothing" you sigh, shaking your head. You clearly push away clothes on the rack.

And when the two give each other a look, observing the room. Obviously something made you upset. Their eyes meet each person, when they finally notice the gawking looks. Realization dawns.

When minghaos hand falls from yours, its like a piece of your heart fell with it. "Be back" he so clearly says. You don't nod like usual. You frustratingly sigh. Junhui follows minghao, announcing the same.

You grow impatient when they're gone longer than normal. But suddenly you glance up. There at the counter is minghao and Jun, laying down.. lingerie...

Oh God, they're making a scene for you. "Could you add the note in, my wife will appreciate it." Minghao says so casually that your heart skips. Your feet gravitate to them. Staring at what they've placed on the counter. "Hey" junhui says, his hand falling around your waist like it was made to sit there. You elbow his side, the only reaction you get is a shit-eating grin.

The lady fumbles with the bag as she shoves it inside, her face grows pinker the minute. You wanna curl over and scream in embarrassment. Minghao snatches the bag from her hand. And slips back on his shades. The second you're outside you smack his chest.

Junhui and Minghao who smile cheek to cheek at a casual two paces behind as you stomp away, mumbling incoherently to yourself. Minghao who fiddles with the bag and the ring box in his pocket.

Vampire Junhui who hardly understands the music you listen to. He does enjoy your voice though. You dance around in the kitchen whilst he sits at the dining table with minghao who types away, replying to emails. Jun turns to his lifelong partner. "When should we ask her?" Minghao glances up for the quickest second to eye your position.

You're moving your shoulder to the bass. His lips quirk. "Maybe next week, after we meet her family"

And when it is next week and you stand outside the warmest café with junhui and minghao waiting for an hour in the blizzarding snow. "He's not coming" you say, dejected.

Your parents cut you off once they figured out your 'hobby'. yet you thought you had your deadbeat brother to atleast come through. You were mistaken.

'Can't make it' the pathetic text says. Yet you laugh at it anyways. "He's not coming" you turn on your heel, although you dressed up nice and pristine. Although you tried to make yourself look like the perfect sister, you really just wished he would show to meet your boyfriends.

You can hear the call of your name, minghao, and Jun jogging up to you. Minghao pulls your wrist, yet you pull away, wiping the tears off your face harshly. "Im so.." You go to yell, shaking your head. The hurt on their face is evident.

"Can we just go home, please?"

Minghao and Junhui, who do their best to make you smile when you're at your lowest. Yet you still feed into their hunger like the angel you are. Two undead men with only beating hearts for you try their best to make you the happiest woman. Showering you with their earned fortune. Feeding you with food they take hours to learn. And kissing you so gently that you wonder if they're the angels sent here to take you.

Your shut-in day for the first snow is the first day you've felt better since your brother ditching you. Junhui struggles as you teach him how to make hot cocoa. Minghao follows his own instructions, concentration on his handsome face.

and maybe because you look so docile, does junhui catch eyes with minghao from behind you. A thought passes between them. "You gotta put the milk first and then the cocoa- jun?" You turn around. Jun pulls open a velvet black box from his pocket, gauging your reaction as he does so.

Your mouth falls open, yet when minghao side steps and pulls out a matching velvet purple. Your tears begin flowing.

"Yes"

A vampiric wedding that's as private as it gets. Only your closest friends and a bunch of Junhui and Minghaos attend. You can immediately tell they're vampires from the wide range of sexy men they are. "Don't stare," minghao teases as you gawk at the photo.

"Sorry, it's just, they're all kinda hot. are all vampires hot?" You laugh, it's such a weird question. Your head bumps against minghaos chest when you lay back. Jun isn't here. He's too busy prepping for getting back from the honeymoon. Minghao lays a kiss on your forehead. "That's such a lookism mentality," he chuckles.

Vampire Jun, who lays peck after peck on your face when you visit him in his office and won't let you leave his lap when you tell him you just visited because you missed him. His arm is wrapped around your front while he writes away on papers and documents. You watch in silence until eventually you're comfortable enough to fall asleep on him.

Vampire minghao, who poses the question to turn you now that you are married. Jun might be the scared one, but he knows what you've said to him the day of the honeymoon curled up under the sheets.

"I want to be your forever." You push a delicate piece of blonde hair away from Juns eye. "I've already told minghao. I know, you get quiet when I say that I love you, but I want you to know I'll never go anywhere without the both of you."

"I do love you"

Your husbands Jun and Minghao, who so gently lay kiss upon kiss on every inch of your body. If you think about it long enough, you can find the specific spot they each love. Minghao in the valley between your breasts and Junhui right on the fat of your thighs.

Your forever lovers who dote on you once they've finally sunken their teeth into you. Remember to leave energy for you to be able to take their poison. And finally, a cup of their blood placed ever so delicately on your lips.

Your forever husbands who've already hung your picture on every corner of the mansion. Who've made sure you know you are a goddess in their eyes.

Your appearance comes naturally, one thing at a time. Yet your husband's loves you nonetheless anyway. Continuing to kiss every inch of skin you've made any comment about. Reminding you: 'A human body isn't perfect, but neither is a vampire one'.

You beg to differ when they're the most beautiful men you've ever seen. They tell you that's how they see you. You get used to the shimmery hue your skin has taken. The way the white of your eyes is brighter than ever. The way your teeth are perfectly white. And the new fangs that you occasionally stab yourself with.

Your first drinking is a whole different story.

A/n: Happy Halloween ! Made with much love and consideration.

[peaches2217]

Building off of a previous post, I've decided what nation the Mushroom Kingdom is parallel to in my 'verse: Slovakia. (The fact that my girlfriend is Slovak and I feel very passionately about promoting the nation to atone for the fact that I didn't know it even existed before I met her has only informed about 90% of this decision.)

Okay, but jokes aside, the Mushroom Kingdom is an idyllic, green little kingdom, with lots of rolling pastures and forests and hills/mountains. Most towns are quite small, and even larger towns, like the capital city of Toad Town, have that small-town feel to them. Lots of open-air markets and little shops and small businesses. Toad Town itself is located in the southern-central area of the kingdom, adjacent to the Banská Bystrica region.

As far as traditional dress goes, Central Slovak kroje tend to be extremely colorful, which you see reflected in the varied vests most Toads wear. They're often embroidered with simple patterns, but extravagant embroideries aren't unheard of. Peach's ceremonial traditional outfit is no different: big, puffy sleeves, bright pinks and blues and reds woven into her outfit, and plenty of mushroom reliefs as stand-in for the flower reliefs you see more IRL.

(In place of the ribbons of unmarried women and headdresses of married women, she wears a mushroom cap, which matches her kroj and the natural Toad caps. Larger headwear seems to be more common in Czech kroje than Slovak, buuuuuut this is Fantasy Slovakia, we can make exceptions.)

I like to think Peach gifts Mario with a folk-style belt or vest or something that he starts wearing to official events, and then when they get married, he gets his own full kroj. Now, kroje varies drastically from village to village, but some of the most well-known of Central Slovak kroje come from Detva, whose men's kroj looks like... this.

I'm caught firmly between "Let's draw inspiration from some other Central region like Liptov for the MK's traditional menswear" and "Sun's out, tum's out, Mario would fucking SLAY in this".

[kn-1013]

Exploratory Surgery #3 - Orange Crush & Ne-Hi Soda

AKA how many Nicole Dollanganger references can I make in a single fanfiction. The answer is a lot.

Summary: Travis goes over his view of Sal and his crush on him. Word Count: 1815 Rating: T Pairing: Sal/Travis Warnings: References to child/domestic abuse, internalized homophobia and religious themes

A/N: The first one I've actually titled, lol. Makes some mild references to my other fic, "Death Lingering", up on AO3. Not needed to read this, but explains some stuff.

======== Hell has a name – Chapel Hill.

An arid wasteland of unheard prayers and belt-buckle lashings, it sits in the center of Nockfell surrounded by an ancient and decrepit stone wall, commanding a legacy of fear and reverence. The other side of the wall is unknown to me, but I was always good at pressing my ear against it and listening to the sounds of the adjacent unbound people.

Still, after all these years, I can’t tell if I’m locked inside or out.

I peer through cracks and holes in the carved out rock, just big enough to stick my fingers through. I can’t exactly tell what’s on the other side, but I’m scared of it. It’s full of a terrifying life that I know I can’t live myself, so I sit back from my side of the wall and I watch what pieces I can catch through the holes.

You are the way you waste, and I waste away by watching you.

Out there, you’re warm and content. I don’t see your smile, but I could pick out the sound of your laughter in a crowd of a hundred people. I watch you keep yourself busy by feeding your infinite curiosity, always sticking your plastic nose where it doesn’t belong, and often paying a price for it. But you don’t care, as long as you’re satisfied.

You’re cool.

I’ve almost always thought that.

Your dark clothes, your heavy jacket, your fingerless gloves. Your chipped black nail polish, the wallet chain that matches Larry’s, that stick and poke of a butterfly on your wrist. The way you always walk with purpose, the way the insults roll off of you, the sincerity of your words. The music, the backtalk, the friendship, the graveyard hangouts, the treehouse, the basement bedroom, the rebellion, all of it.

It’s cool.

Maybe the grass is greener on the other side, but I’d rather have your problems than mine. Creaky, leaky pipes bursting with green ooze in an allegedly haunted, run-down apartment complex with stained and matted carpets and a legacy of murder honestly doesn’t sound so bad to me compared to the things I have to come home to.

It would be a reasonable trade-off for friends. Family. People that check in on you. People who aren’t afraid to say hello to me in the halls. I could go check the mail and talk about the weather with someone like it’s normal. I could be a part of something.

I know it’s selfish, but I want it. I want it more than anything, and you have it.

You’re not as afraid of consequences as I think you should be. Maybe it’s because we’re different. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I’m just a coward, too weak-willed and spineless to fight for myself.

Maybe I’m afraid of coming out because it means I’ll get treated the same way I’ve treated you. Maybe I’m scared of losing the plausible deniability of the late bloomer when people finally see me for what I really am. Maybe I’m scared nobody will fight for me because I deserve it.

Maybe all of that’s true, but the thing I can’t stand the most is the way I know you would look at me with pride. Contentment, joy, peace. Your eyes would crinkle at the edges and that would be the only indication you could give that you were smiling. Put a hand on my shoulder, give me a hug, invite me to lunch, bring me to your friends. You’d reel me in for good, and I could never handle that.

I fear the weight of your forgiveness would crush me.

I’ve seen the depths of your shame and fear. I’ve seen the way you cry and scream and vomit and beg, writhing on the ground as memories of death’s touch strike you down again. I’ve touched the subdued terror in your soul with my bare hands, and they burned under the heat of it. I know the humiliation you hide behind that mask you call your face. I will always know you by your scars.

Even after everything you’ve been through, you’re hopeful. Kind. Genuine.

I don’t know how you do it.

You take my cruelty in stride, never taking your heart off of your cheek. You afford me more patience than I deserve. The earnest tone in your voice always shakes me to my core, threatening to break the hollow foundations of my disgraceful being, when you say that deep down I’m a good person, even though I don’t think there’s anything inside me anymore.

In my dreams, I can see your face. I can run my fingers through your hair. I can hold your sadness for you. I can touch your skin, your clothes, your lips. In my dreams, you walk me through town by the hand, and you look at me with your head cocked to the side like you always do when you’re observing. It’s peaceful, quiet, calm. We’re left alone.

In my dreams, I can trace your scars. The deep trenches of carved out flesh, the webbing that moves up into your hair. In my dreams, I can kiss the purple vein on your temple, the altered shape of your jaw, the tiny, protruding bump of your nasal bone. I could tell you that you don’t have to hide from me, I’m not scared of you. That I wouldn’t have you any other way. That it makes you who you are. That you’re cool.

In my dreams, nobody will ever touch us. But I could never really touch you either. Only in my dreams could I love you the way I want to, and for it, shame swallows me whole.

I remember how it started.

There was always this seed of sin inside of me. I didn’t plant it there, but I did bury it inside my heart. I pretended that it couldn’t grow its roots in me if I ignored it, but weeds don’t need you to water them yourself to grow into a parasitic garden. I covered it in my need for perfection and normalcy. I covered that in prayer, fear, guilt. I layered it all over this seed like pavement, but cracks grew in my facade fast, and through those cracks, the seed had sprouted.

If you trace the stems down underneath the concrete, you can find a cavity full of the tangled nest of the roots of my desire.

I hollowed out my soul trying to stop the spread, but all I did was make more room for it. No matter how hard I tried to fight it, I have become completely and wholly infested. I know one day, hell will catch up to me, and the light in your soul can’t save me from my fate. I can tell myself anything I want, but I know that deep down, I will burn for it.

You were exempt from P.E. for several reasons, so I never saw you in the locker rooms, just on the bleachers, your head in your hands. You always looked tired when you sat there.

No, it was during one summer break I saw it. You and your friends were at the playground, dicking around on the monkey bars while I sat on the bench, half-reading my book, half-watching you through the cracks in my wall again.

You hung upside down, laughing at something Larry said. Your shirt slipped up, all the way to your armpits. It was all skin, hatched with sparse blue hairs on your chest and stomach. The waistband of your boxers, wrapped around your bony hips. Ribs, held just centimeters beneath, moving and bending as the rest of you did. Barely-used abdominal muscles struggled to keep your weight as you bent up, trying to pull yourself back down, and I still remember the way your stomach folded over itself when you finally got up there.

I can never erase it. That piece of you is locked inside of me forever. It keeps me going just as much as it holds me back. I’ll never let it go if it kills me.

I could never have what you have. I could never do what you do. I’m not strong like you are, I’m a coward. I’m weak, worthless, and empty. There’s nothing inside of me worth looking at, let alone anything worth saving, I know that. God knows that. But I can watch you through the cracks. Pretend I’ll one day take you up on your offer and talk to you, let you in. I’ll keep you at arm’s length, saying words that sound like they mean something, then disappear again.

I could never be like you, but I can watch you from afar, and that’s enough for me.

When the last bell of the day rings, I watch as you and your friends are the first ones out of those double doors, laughing and tripping over yourselves on the stairs as you stumble into the rainy streets. I watch as you all join hands, spinning around in barely coherent circles, words unintelligible, youthful energy palpable. The sound of your joy cuts through the ice-cold rain, straight into my stomach, watering the weeds I can’t pull out of my chest. The ambivalence of your mask does nothing to hide the unbridled joy you have for the moment, eyes crinkled and head bobbing to the loose rhythm, until your feet stumble over themselves; you’re the first to fall over and you take everyone down with you, laughing onto the soggy ground.

You all lay, cradled by mud and grass, hands grasping for one another as you keep pulling each other down, cursing and teasing each other while the wet dirt and plant life stain your clothes.

For a moment, you catch me watching. Your head on the ground, tilted back to look at me with an upside-down view. The rain is beginning to stop now, and your blue eyes find mine more clearly as the skies began to empty of their storm clouds. I see that look in your eye. You want to greet me, to run up to me, talk to me, but I don’t let you. Won’t let you. You want to pull me in so badly, but I can’t do it.

Watching you is all I can let myself have. But you’ll never understand that, which is why I saw your deep-blue irises, full of life and contentment, and I walked away from them, even as they called my name.

I feel the flames of Hell licking the backs of my ankles as I run from you again.

One day it will come to claim its pounds of flesh from my body, and when it’s done, there won’t be anything left for you to bury.

Until then, you are the way you waste, and I waste away by watching you.

[animaginaryartblog]

[Image ID: Two images, each with two designs, top and bottom, for a Sonic fan character. The character is a short, rotund older woman, with ash grey hair and pale skin. Her name is Evy Munanev, aka Dr. Rotbane.

In the first set, her hair is pulled into a braided beehive. The top design has her in a tight green tailcoat with pink sleeves, a flared pink mantle around her shoulders, and a pink sash around her waist. She also wears green gloves and boots and black pants. A silver broach, in the dagger-like shape of the titan arum flower, sits at her chest. A white gas mask hides her face.

In the bottom design, she wears a shorter coat, white in front and black in the back. She has flared, almost petal-shaped sleeves and pants, both pink. A similarly petal-shaped pink mantle frames her head. A large green flower broach sits on her chest. She still wears green gloves and shoes, but the shoes are smaller, not high-heeled boots like before. She no longer has a gas mask, but instead a pair of black glasses.

In the second set, Evy's hair is now died pink and cut in a triple mohawk. She also green vine tattoos patterning her skin. The top design has her wearing an open green vest over a loose pink dress. On top of the vest she has black shoulder pads with white, thorn-like spikes. Similarly spiked black bands surround her wrists and ankles, as well as crossing her waist like bandolier belts. She wears green gloves and boots; the boots have spiked bottoms, like cleats.

In the bottom design, the gas mask has been swapped for black glasses, revealing the green vine tattoos on her face. She retains the vest and spiked shoulder pads, but the dress has been swapped out for a baggy black shirt over flared pink sleeves and pants. She still wears green, spiked shoes, but they are no longer heeled boots. /end ID]

When creating my Blaze-focused Sonic Prime AU (more on that in a bit), I took the time to finally take a swing at a design for the Sol Dimension Egg(wo)man I've been contemplating for a while now. I've always been annoyed we've never gotten any female Sol Dimension villains, even though by all rights there should be an abundance of them. Sonic and Tails each get female counterparts with unique designs, personalities, and relationship dynamics, but when it comes to Eggman we get... a palette swap? who isn't even actually from the Sol Dimension?? hello???

I'm still working out her design and personality, but these are some of the concepts I've drawn up so far. the points I am settled on are that she's a rotund older woman with plant-theming. her birth name is Evy Munanev; her villain title is either Dr. Rotbane or Dr. Rotbloom, I haven't decided.

more on the design process below

so. Solegg. my first order of business was swapping out the Egg for something different but adjacent. I picked a seed, which ended up being more of a general plant-theming. I think it could make a nice counterpoint to Eggman's primarily animal-themed robots.

I specifically modeled her after the corpse flower - or rather, corpse flowers, since apparently there are two notable flowers called that, the titan arum and the giant padma. Both are found in Indonesia, fittingly enough, since that's usually the real-world analog I draw on for Blaze's homeland. The top design in the first image is based on the titan arum, while the design at the bottom is based on the giant padma.

for the other elements of her design, I tried matching it to Blaze the same way Eggman's design matches Sonic's. Like how Eggman's primary color is one of Sonic's secondaries (red), Rotbane's primary color comes from Blaze's pink secondaries. Black is her secondary color, same as Eggman, because y'know. Villains.

Finally, the name. As far as Eggman's "real" name goes, the -nik suffix is Slavic/Russian, while Robotnik in particular is a Slavic (specifically Polish) term. apparently. his first name, Ivo, is used in a lot of languages, but if cross-referencing with his relatives, Gerald and Maria, narrows it down to German or Dutch. that said, according to the Sonic wiki the name "Ivo" actually came from a developer's sister's Croatin boyfriend, so. that's a thing. the other factors in the name selection were that it sounds kinda like "evil", as well as being the Latin word for eggs spelled backward.

All that said! I made the Solegg Dutch because of the Indonesia connection. I went with the Dutch name Evy because it also sounds like evil, plus bears some resemblance to ivy. I gave her the last name Munanev, which is venenum (Latin for poison or venom) backwards.

finally, I picked Rotbane as her nickname because it sounds cool, reflects the plant-theming, and has some of the same punchiness as Eggman. I'm also considering Rotbloom, haven't decided yet.

[Image ID: Four black-and-white sketches of Evy Munanev, the OC described above. In the top left Evy in her mohawk-design leans to the side, hips thrust forward and grinning. In the bottom left Evy stands next to an unimpressed (and considerably taller) Eggman, grinning as she strikes a pose. In the bottom right, Evy stands next to Blaze, who is only a little shorter. Evy grins at Blaze while Blaze glares at her, arms folded. Evy's hair is poofier and squarer, like a sleeker beehive. In the top right, Evy has the same square hairdo, but now wears her gas mask as well. /end ID]

[witchhunt-taleofobsessions]

00.2

Two figures sat in two adjacent cells. The drunkard man scooted a bit backwards so he could rest his back against the bars, legs lazily crossed before him, cuffed hands idly drumming just below his knee. His tattered shirt hanging loose from his shoulders with an open neck, blood spatters and slashes across the sleeves now rolled up to his elbows. His pants covered in similar stains told about decades of use on the field with different stitches at different parts. His boots looked the most well, no visible holes or patches, only mud and blackened blood covering them in intricate patterns. A belt missing from his waist, the coloration of the fabrics and their creasing a telltale sign. His hands were covered in cuts and bruises and slight coloration from power rarely used but frequently dealt with. Mischief played in his crimson eyes, the glee of a kid finding his favourite toy after a long search. His blonde stubble barely visible on his pale skin, his hair dishevelled and covered in sweat, booze, dirt, smoke and some blood and ash, his features playing between boyish and roguish, similar scars lacing it in fantastic patterns as his palms and arms.

The other across him, still glaring daggers with eyes dancing from poison to forest green was in a bad shape. Cuts and bruises bloomed dark on her skin, movement slow and jagged with clearly bitten back pain in her muscles. A young woman in simple but tattered clothes, visibly beaten and broken, hands loosely tied together in an intricate knot of a rope, a magical seal for witches. She sat far back in her cell, leaning on the wall, legs stretched before her, hands in her lap. Her short sleeved shirt was similarly covered in blood, once a colourful patterned needlework lost under the grime. Her skirt, probably ankle length before, now teared and ragged as if some monster chewed off its end. Her simple long apron in similar sad state, its only pocket missing its lower half completely, blood ash and something dark splashed across it. Around her ankles a similar loose rope tied with another seal, her shoes missing. Brown wild hair cascading down a slender but bruised neck, covering half of a murderous face. Her lines would probably be considered lovely in other circumstances.

[zeroducks-2]

Zero, im not here to shit on Bruce but I think it’s crazy his little strange mind hasn’t come up with technology that is similar to that of Capsule Corporation technology in Dragon Ball. Like? What do you mean Bruce wouldn’t want a pill sized way to keep his Batjet on him at all times? What do you mean Tim and Damian haven’t bullied him into creating that sort of technology? How useful would that be for heroes who can’t fly or run or teleport to have a fucking jet fuelled motorcycle in their purse? Hello, how embarrassing must it be to literally have to wait to be picked up by another hero because Mister Freeze is fucking with the weather and you can’t drive to Central City because he froze over the highway 💀 I mean if you had a jet pack in your pocket, it wouldn’t be but Bruce Fucking Wayne can’t get his head out of his rich ass long enough to create Capsule Corporation adjacent technology so now YOU have to beg Green Lantern for a ride.

We should send DC a letter and shame them about it. WHY DOESN'T HE have Capsule Corporation technology, huh?

And by the way he can fit gadgets of incredible dimensions in his utility belt already anyway, the stretch from there to keeping the whole ass Batmobile isn't that big, right?

[sizey-oc-smackdown]

Round 2: Battle 1

Participants: @bethncherry 's Beth and Cherry, @wallspikes 's Weld, @pocket-ozwynn 's Staple and Crown

Descriptions: "Beth is a giant farm lady (quiet, polite) and Cherry is a human sized college student (loud, anxiety, hyper)"

"weld is a borrower living in a beachside village in new york. he finds himself an outside borrower at a young age after getting separated from his family, and learns to thrive in a new environment. weld isn’t exactly… afraid of humans. how could he fear a group of people he knows nothing about, and doesn’t understand? but he does fear the lack of control that comes with human interaction. regardless, despite how he feels, his expression will always betray his emotion — expect him to always look worried, no matter what."

"Staple and Crown are both mouse-adjacent siblings.

Staple has a much thicker build than their younger sibling and long gray-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. The same color fur can be found on his face, body, and tail. He wears a light green sleeved shirt, a darker green vest, brown pants, and a brown belt with a gold clasp. They have slight facial hair, a thick unibrow, and sharp yellowed teeth.

Crown is slim and nimble. Their hair is dark and cut short. Slightly lighter fur is found on their face, body, and tail. They wear a gray shirt under brown patched overalls. They have thick, short eyebrows and yellowed teeth with two prominent 'buck' teeth."

Propaganda: "RAAAAAHHHHHHH they are my beloveds. Beth has magic to help grow her tomato plants and other vegtables, she has a pet cow named Moo Moo and enjoys a quiet night. Cherry is in college/uni and is STRESSIN and met Beth by chance when her tires popped on the highway. Beth was there to help her out and they've stayed in contact."

"during his adult life (the main focus of his story) weld meets gio clark, a human man. their relationship is semi rocky at the start, but they eventually grow to be good friends, and later, brothers. weld fits into the clark family just fine.

weld struggles to understand anything outside of the realm of the village he lives in, which makes for a confusing assimilation to human living."

"Staple and Crown used to live in an abandoned, dilapidated mansion witb the rest of their large family until the property was bought and set to be renovated. Pest control was hired to get rid of the "rats" that were believed to be in the estate, leading to Staple escaping just barely with his youngest sibling. They both manage to hide away in a truckbed of haystacks and travel away from all they knew. They eventually make their new home in the rafters of a barn on the property of a middle aged farmer.

Crown is traumatized by the event, which leads to them being mute. They make up for the lack of words with noises like chirps, whistles, and hisses. Other than that, they aren't slowed down by their past and are as curious as ever, getting into just about every place that Staple has forbidden them to mess with.

Staple is definitely the overprotective type. He's desperate to hold on to the last remaining family he has, even though she and Crown butt heads more often than not. Staple doesn't really understand Crown, but he always believes to have her best interests at heart. But if he has to tell them one more time NOT to go sticking their head in the chicken coop he'll probably lose it."

Extra Bits of Propaganda: Weld Main Story and Ao3 with Weld Side Stories