#corpse beau

[rampantram]

Just wanted to draw more cute, family fluff with the babies ~ 🎀 🔔

[lola-theshowgrl]

My favourite reads of 2024 📚 💛 “Piranesi” by Susanna Clarke 💛 “Your Silence Will Not Protect You” by Audre Lorde 💛 “To Wield The Darkest Night” by Beau Van Dalen 💛 “Hamnet” by Maggie O’Farrell (not pictured) 💛 “Girl, Serpent, Thorn” by Melissa Bashardoust (not pictured) 💛 “Exquisite Corpse” by Poppy Z Brite 💛 “For The Wolf” by Hannah Whitten 💛 “The Slow Regard of Silent Things” by Patrick Rothfuss 💛 “The Penelopiad” by Margaret Atwood 💛 “The Secret History” by Donna Tartt

[goryhorroor]

horror of 2025

here's the list (hoping i get every movie but mostly will be kinda focusing on the ones i'm either excited for or is super popular)

the wolfman - leigh whannell's take on the classic

final destination: bloodlines - tormented by recurring violent nightmares, stefanie returns home to break the cycle

black phone 2: sequel

sax xi: eleventh installment in the saw franchise

28 years later - it's been three decades since the rage virus escaped a laboratory and some groups have been able to live amongst the infected but when they leave the safety of their island they'll discover dark secrets

m3gan 2.0 - sequel

companion - after being invited to a weeekend trip at her new beau's lakeside estate, iris uncovers a terrible secret

they follow: sequel to it follows

frankenstein: guillermo's del toro's take on the original

the strangers: chapter 2 - sequel

the strangers: chapter 3 - end of a trilogy

scary movie: return to the horror spoof series

sinners - trying to leave their troubled lives behind, twin brothers return to their hometown to start again, only to discover that an even greater evil is waiting to welcome them back

untitled jordan peele film - plot tba

poohniverse: monsters assemble - a team of evil childhood cartoon characters i didn't know we needed but i guess we're getting one

vicious - a young woman must spent the night fighting for her existence as she slips down a disturbing rabbit hole contained inside a mysterious gift from a late-night visitor

blade - i mean i hope so but i'm not sure if we're actually getting it this year

the bride - in the 1930s, a lonely frankenstein travels to chicago to seek the aid of dr. euphronius in creating a companion for himself. they murder a young woman and the bride is born

scary stories to tell in the dark 2 - sequel

thanksgiving 2 - sequel

the auditors - nikki, grappling with post-job loss financial strain, inadvertently ignores the fine print of their MDPOPE purchase, and their descent into horror begins with the arrival of the auditors who subject them to torture

grind - a group of college students host a midnight grindhouse film festival. they discover a cursed arthouse horror movie called the creeping chaos. in screening the movie, they unleash absolute mayhem

you take can now - plot tba

scream 7 - plot tba

kraken - marine biologist johanne is doing research on a fish farm in vangshe, a rural community located by the fjord. when she encounters strange occurances along with two brutal deaths, she discovers that a mythical creature rests

the woman in the yard - a mysterious woman who repeatedly appears in a family's front yard, often giving chilling warnings, and leaving residents to question her identity, motive, and potential danger

i know what you did last summer - reboot of classic

fear street: prom queen - prom season at shadyside high is underway, but when an outsider is unexpectedly nominated to the court, and other girls start disappearing, the class of '88 is in for a hell of a prom night

until dawn - live action of the video game

let the evil go west - a railroad worker stumbles upon a fortune teller in distubring circumstances and horrifying visions drive him towards madness

the monkey - when twin brothers hal and bill discover their father's old monkey toy in the attic, a series of gruesome deaths start occurring around them

hell house llc: lineage - fifth installment

screamboat: a late night boat ride turns into a desperate fight for survival in new york city when a mouse becomes a monstrous reality (what the fuck)

body farm - the forester johann only wants to warn his ex-wife sophie of a forensic research facility, but when he gets to the site, fast-growing slime has infested the corpses of the dead and brings them to life

i know exactly how you die - when his slasher-fiction novel manifests in real life, rian burman has to finish his story without getting his protagonist killed

le fanu's carmilla - retelling of the book

devil's work - when a couple, traveling on their vacation, meet a desperate girl seeking for her missing sister, they encounter terror and up as hostages to a twisted family and their son

the seductress from hell - hollywood actress undergoes a horrific transformation after being pushed to the edge by her husband

hyde - modern take on the classic novella by robert louis stevenson

crawlers - in the year 2030, a zombie pandemic decimates the united states population. american surviors rush to mexico where a plateau is believed to be zombie free

the children of the woods - in january 1999, a group of five disappeared after they went into the woods of york, south carolina for a camping trip, their story is being told 25 years later (inspired by blair witch project)

the dreadful - in the backdrop of the war of roses, anne and her mother-in-law morwen who live in solidary, run into a man from their past

presence - a family moves into a suburban house and become convinced they're not alone

victorian psycho - winifred notty arrives at a remote gothic manor, and as she assimilates into life, staff members begin to disappear

heart eyes - when the heart eyes killer strikes seattle, a pair of co workers pulling overtime are mistaken for a couple by the couple-hunting killer. now they must spend their valetine's day running for their lives

peter pan's neverland nightmare - after her brother michael is abducted by "the boy who won't grow up," peter pan, wendy darling goes on a rescue mission

[waynes-multiverse]

Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

(Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition)

Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader // Soldier Boy x reader // Beau Arlen x reader // Russell Shaw x reader

Warnings: +18 for some language and spice, tons of fluff, a smidge of angst

A/N: Something sweet to sweep you off your feet for the most romantic day of the year ���� Happy early Valentine's from me, my loves 💖 (And big thanks to the lovely, amazing @zepskies 💜 for starting this trend in the first place. It's addicting 😂🫶)

Dean:

Dean isn’t big on Valentine’s Day and romance. Not because he thinks it’s an unnecessary holiday invented by greeting card companies, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to be romantic.

You’re aware of this and don’t care if he surprises you with a big gesture. Because truth is, Dean’s romantic when it comes to the little things.

You don’t care if he brings you flowers because he brings you your favorite take-out order when you so much as mention that you’re hungry.

You don’t care if he gets you a card because he gets up in the middle of the night and saunters all the way to kitchen to bring you a glass of water when you tell him you’re thirsty.

You don’t care if he gets you chocolate because he creates personal mixtapes for you with songs you said you liked during random drives.

He listens to you. He holds open doors for you. He protects you. He keeps you calm. He takes care of you when you’re injured. And he loves you with every fiber of his being.

So, really, you don’t care if he makes a big deal out of one random calendar day a year or not. It doesn’t prove his love for you – the little things do.

However, you’re still sweetly surprised (and moved to tears) when you find the Dean Cave dipped in the warm glow of fairy lights and candles.

He’s picked out your favorite chick-flick and your favorite snacks.

He opens his arms with a big, cheeky grin and invites you into his snuggly embrace on the couch.

There’s a box of chocolates on the coffee table, a few of them half eaten, and a note that reads: I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is. Be mine?

You smile and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Always.”

Flustered, he smiles, cheeks tinged pink, and kisses your crown. “Happy unattached-drifter-Christmas, sweetheart.”

Soldier Boy:

To say Ben’s old-school when it comes to romance would be an understatement. While the rest of the year his bedside manners leave much to desire, he strangely shines on Valentine’s.

Mostly, because he knows sex is a given on this holiest of holy days. No sickness or period can stop him.

If you accidentally died, you’re even sure he’d pull a full Weekend at Bernie’s and have a night out with your corpse.

First, he surprises you with a delicately wrapped gift on your bed: a tight-fitting, beautiful emerald evening gown and the matching lacy lingerie set.

Of course he got you underwear, even though he won’t mind if you don’t wear anything at all under that dress.

He then takes you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city, where he reserved a private room away from all the other commoners.

His attention is only on you.

He praises you all night long and gives compliments as if he's never done anything else his entire (long) life.

He orders the most expensive bottle of wine and the best steak and makes sure you know that it is.

He encourages you to play footsie under the table with him before he slips the heel off your foot, and your toes massage the growing bulge in his slacks.

He holds your hand in public and protectively guides you goddamn everywhere with a palm on the small of your back, showing you off like arm candy – the trophy wife.

Sure, you could protest and critique his… traditional views.

You’re not a fucking award he’s won for bad acting!

But your cheeks flush furiously every single time he brags boisterously about you to anyone who will listen. And those who don’t listen are forced to listen.

But you can’t deny it feels good to be so wanted, so desired.

When you come home at the end of the night (with a fucking horse-drawn carriage no less), Ben can barely keep his large hands from roaming your curves. You know he expects his reward now for being the best possible lover ever.

On the kitchen island, you also find a huge bouquet of red roses waiting for you. You can barely appreciate its beauty before the zipper in the back of your dress slides open. Well… rips open.

Between the thorny stems, there’s a card attached, too. It doesn’t read “Be Mine,” however.

Nope, it says, “You are mine.”

And you know he fucking means it.

Beau Arlen:

Your favorite cowboy sheriff will pull out all the stops as soon as the calendar on his desk reads February.

He doesn’t wait for D-Day either. Every day for thirteen days straight, there’s a little surprise waiting for you when you get home.

Your favorite flowers, your favorite meal, your favorite movie, a framed picture of you and him from your first vacation together, a necklace you saw in an antique store you mentioned in passing…

Some might say he’s a little overcompensating.

But Beau has made mistakes in his past, especially on the relationship front, and will be damned if he hasn’t learned from them.

So, he will make sure you feel wanted and loved till the day he dies, even though you keep repeatedly telling him he doesn’t need to make a fuss about Valentine’s Day.

Really, you’re good with picked flowers from the garden.

But Beau’s stubborn and won’t be discouraged. The southern gentlemanliness is rooted deep within his heart and soul.

This day is all about his endless love for you.

Honestly, the sheer amount of everything makes you even slightly uncomfortable. It might sound dumb, but how could you ever compete with that level of commitment?

There ain’t enough blow jobs in this world to make up for his devotion to you.

But on the big day itself, you are actually the one who surprises him with a romantic weekend trip to a cabin in the mountains and excellent fishing spots close by.

You know the biggest gift you could give him is some peace and quiet, time for himself, and a listening ear because he will surely talk the entire time about God and the world while you’re stuck on a boat with him.

But on the night itself, when you give him your gift, he’s actually speechless. Tears brim in his green eyes because you thought of him.

He’s moved, and it moves you.

Because, after all, to you, there’s no bigger gift in this world than his smile.

Russell Shaw:

You don’t expect much when Valentine’s Day looms in the distance. In fact, you don’t expect anything at all.

You’ve only been dating Russell for a couple of months now, and you barely ever see him. Your time together mostly consists of text messages, late night phone calls, and the occasional video chats.

You know his job is complicated. You know he can’t be around as much, even though you direly wish he could.

On the morning of the dreaded day, you receive a simple text message:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart! I’ll call you later!”

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little disappointed – disenchanted even. You don’t want to make a big deal out of it because it’s a stupid, unimportant almost-holiday.

All day long, you curse the greeting card companies and the poisonous claws of consumerism for making you care in the first place.

You’re a strong, independent woman. You shouldn’t need a man to give you flowers, gifts, or attention to feel appreciated.

Still…

As you park in the driveway after a long day at work where you watched your colleagues fawn over the bouquets they received from their partners, you feel disheartened when you still haven’t even gotten your promised phone call.

Russell always leaves you wanting more… That can both be a good thing and a very bad one.

But as you close the car door, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You all too keenly pull it out and pick up, almost dropping it because your hands are jittering with excitement at this point and your heart is pounding furiously.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Russell greets you on the other end, the deep timbres of his voice sending immediate shivers down your spine. “You home yet?”

All your worries and sorrows are instantly forgotten when you hear the big smile on his freckled face that he’s surely carrying.

He’s worth it, you remind yourself, even when it’s not easy. Life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

“Uh, almost. Unlocking the front door as we speak,” you tell him.

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Was stuck on a plane. Long flight,” he says mysteriously. You don’t even ask at this point. You know he can’t tell you.

“No worries. I was busy, anyways,” you lie and hope he buys your nonchalance. “Anywhere interesting you are now?”

“You could say that, yeah…”

“Well, if you hold on a second, I’ll slip out of those clothes and make your evening even more interesting with some pictures,” you tease flirtatiously and push the door open to your dark apartment.

The light switches on by itself, though. You blink in surprise before the phone falls out of your hand when Russell beams broadly at you.

“As much as I love getting your dirty little photos, I think I prefer the real thing tonight,” he says slyly.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” You surge forward into his strong arms so forcefully you almost tackle him to the ground, your hands slinging around his neck. If you could keep him caged there forever, you’d be fine with it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Russell says with a warm chuckle and claims your lips in a searingly passionate kiss that shows you just how much he’s certainly missed you too. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Hope you enjoyed these little snippets, friends! Do you agree with these? 😉

I legit stole Dean's half-eaten box of chocolate and the Forrest Gump note from another fic of mine. I couldn't resist. I can totally see him doing something silly and cute like that 😂

Happy Valentine's 💕

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@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

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@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report @spnaquakingdom

Other lists that apply: @snowayumi @deans-baby-momma @corruptedcruiser

[cybershock24601]

My Mourn Watch Rook is romancing Lucanis and I’m planning to have my Antivan Crow Rook romance Emmrich and the best part of that is either way Viago is going to be dealing with an unhinged necromancer.

Rook Ingellvar is going to be hanging around and likely literally on the First Talon all the time being Rook’s normal weird self but then is going to say the most out of pocket shit out of nowhere about corpses and spirits. Possibly even raise a number of skeletal guard for the Dellamorte estate and wouldn’t that be a statement for the First Talon’s home to be guarded by the bodies of his marks. A creepy statement, Viago doesn’t know what Lucanis is thinking considering Rook’s everything and that’s before you throw in the necromancy but at least Rook is kind to the crows (the bird). When asked about it Rook says they have tons of them at the Necropolis and that they like her best because sometimes she’ll let them peck at the bodies before she brings in the beetles to pick the bones clean :). Viago and everyone in earshot wishes he’d never asked.

As for Rook de Riva, Viago is going to have the biggest headache in the world when Rook brings home her gentleman necromancer and his pet skeleton. And really, Rook? Going for the guy twice her age, Viago should have expected Rook to pull something like that. It does not help that Rook keeps dragging in bodies like a cat to present to her new beau for him to do… whatever it is the mortalitasi do with corpses. At the very least Viago gets a chance to see Vorgoth’s wonderful art collection so it could be worse and Emmrich makes for a decent conversationalist when he isn’t talking about necromancy. Though not by much. Viago still isn’t sure what he thinks about Rook’s “skeleton son” but at least Manfred’s keeping Rook busy enough that she’s not causing mischief.

[jack-of-ash]

Cordell came to in a dark room. Concrete surrounded him and there was a dripping sound, like a leaking pipe. But a quick glance showed him it wasn't water that was dripping.

It was blood.

God there was so much blood.

He stood up to get a grip on his surroundings and saw more blood- on his hands. On his shoes. On the corpse at his feet.

There was so much blood.

He saw a door at the other end and stumbled toward it. He crashed into it, opening it into the cool night air. He took long, deep breaths as he tried to piece together what the hell was going on.

He felt his pockets and found his phone. Thankfully, it still had charge.

He called his husband, not knowing what else to do.

Cordell had been disappearing at night, sometimes. Beau had been growing increasingly concerned about him, but he always came back before morning, and seemed fine.

It was 2 in the morning. He wasn't expecting a call from the man, but maybe now he'd get some answers.

"Cordi? Where in the world are you?"

[yuki2sksksk]

[ Trollhunter Guardian (Y/n) ]

Centuries ago

" Must you play with your hunt? " The scolding in your voice holds no pressure, only bits of annoyance as you stare at the deer corpse on your feet.

Angor glances at you over his shoulder, still having his hands in the river as the blood slowly leaves his stone skin through the streaming water. You kneel down, trailing over the body of the animal. It's easy to detect the signs of a struggling animal before it was slaughtered.

" You led this ran into a quicksand. " You mutter, glancing at the stain on the legs.

" That I did. "

" You could've killed it right away. " Because you know he's so stealthy and quick on his feet.

" That I didn't. "

Angor Rot huffs out a chuckle at the glare you give him. He straightens up, flicking the water off his now cleaned hands before turning around.

He lowers himself next to you. " This one is a beau, and a healthy one at that. I could not help myself. "

You have to agree with him. It's not everyday you get to see a thriving looking deer like this, with a glistening thick coat that you can whip up as gloves and tool straps. Not to mention the antlers...potion worth ingredients. You're not even specialized much in potion brewing but with an ingredient like this, the success rate is high.

A soft sigh escapes you. " We have a different view of how to have fun. "

" Contrast to what you may think, I am rather picky with how I play my game. " He settles a hand to your lower back. " The more curious I get, the longer it goes. "

A shudder runs through you at the way he brushes his thumb against your clothed spine.

" A quick finish is better, in my opinion." The words sound like a suggestion. It brings a smirk on his face.

" Where's the fun in that? "

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Modern era

" He's not going to kill you. At least, not right away. " You hum, stirring the spoon in your steaming mug of tea.

Jim looks rather horrified at your laid back response. " Why are you so calm about this? "

" I am not. I am actually terrified. "

" Wow, I can really tell. "

Your lips twitch upwards just slightly. You couldn't blame him for being a nervous wreck, not when the assassin just showed up at his school and had him fight a magic golem. The very magic method you taught the troll.

Sipping your drink, your eyes dart back to the anxious teenager staring at you for solution and comfort. You knew you could only provide one.

" You need to be calm when facing Angor Rot. A slip up can cost your life. " You put down your mug, the liquid in it moves slightly to the hidden shaking of your hand.

" I can hardly risk any slip ups with being the Trollhunter. " Jim grumbles. " So if you have any advice on how to take on this guy, that would be appreciated. "

You smile. " As your Guardian, I am here to help. You don't have to worry much about Angor Rot when I am here. You may as well be his target, but..."

You tilt your head, a dazed look in your eyes for a second. When you focus back on the boy, your smile widens.

" I am his favorite to hunt. "

[revvethasmythh]

veth stop rolling like shit, your corpse is about to owe beau 2k gold at this rate

[pupsmailbox]

DOLL︰PUPPET ID PACK

NAMES︰ abbie. adelaide. adorablesse. adorablette. aerlyn. alena. alexis. alice. amaia. amaya. andrea. angeline. ankou. annabelle. annie. antoinette. anxiette. anxious. apricot. asaka. ash. asha. aspen. atticus. ava. avel. babette. babydoll. bambi. bambina. bambino. bashfelle. bashful. beau. bellamy. belle. bells. bernadette. blu. blue. bluesse. bluette. blushe. blushesse. blushette. boo. bram. bronach. bronagh. brone. button. buttons. cadel. candace. carmilla. carrie. catherine. cessair. charlie. charlott. charlotte. chelsea. chia. chica. chirella. chirelle. chiwa. chuckie. claeg. coffin. colere. commedia. constance. coquette. cordelia. corelle. corette. corsette. cypress. dahlia. dalia. damon. darling. dawn. dearesse. dearest. dearette. dearie. deidre. demure. desdemona. devin. devon. doilie. doily. doll. dollaintye. dollawie. dollerie. dollesse. dollette. dolleyed. dollie. dolline. dollita. dolly. dolores. dottie. drea. dread. drusilla. dáinn. eeria. eldritche. elissar. eliza. elle. elodie. eloise. emerence. emily. essie. esther. evangela. evangeline. evelyn. eveyln. faith. frill. frillette. genevieve. genoveva. gia. gladys. glorie. glory. gorey. gorie. gracelyn. gregory. gretta. gwen. gwenivive. haldor. haunt. hiccup. hyde. iraia. iresse. irette. itishree. jabez. janelle. janet. jannet. jinx. josie. julie. juniper. juno. kailey. kanani. kewpie. kiva. krak. lace. lacesse. lacette. lacey. lacie. lain. laintess. lakka. lalki. lavender. lea. lefu. letta. letum. libitina. lilac. lillith. lilly. lily. loaela. lola. lolah. loletta. lolita. lolite. lolla. lottie. lovelace. luci. lucius. lulu. lute. lyla. lys. madison. mahina. mandy. mannie. manon. many. mara. maria. marianette. marie. marion. marionette. marionne. marotte. marrionette. marrow. mary. maryjane. marzana. maveth. meek. melanie. melodie. melody. merripen. miel. minuette. mold. moldie. moldy. molly. moonie. moore. morana. morgana. morgue. mors. mort. mot. muriel. murmur. muse. nadine. nadzen. nancy. nanea. nanelle. nanette. nappi. naz. negan. nekane. nelly. nemesis. nettie. nicodème. niegan. nimbus. nina. nuri. olive. oliver. olivia. omega. panchaali. parner. pinkesse. pinkette. pinkie. pinky. pinocchio. pippin. poe. poppet. poppette. poppy. porce. porcelain. porcelynn. prantika. pulau. punthali. pupetta. puppet. puppetear. puppetesse. puppetette. puppette. puppyte. putala. quinn. ravanche. raven. realiteer. rebel. ribbon. ribbonne. riley. rion. robert. rose. rubella. ruby. sacrifette. salem. sasha. satin. scarlet. sebastian. sew. sewine. shivani. shiver. sidney. smierc. smiley. smilie. softesse. softette. softie. solikha. spirit. sprout. statuette. stitches. strings. sweeheart. sweetheart. sweetie. sweetiebelle. sweetine. sychar. teacup. tearie. teddy. tempest. thalia. than. thana. theodora. thorn. trembelle. trista. ultima. ulysses. vanessa. vera. viola. visage. whisp. whisper. willow. winston. wisp. wispera. wrathes. zizi.

PRONOUNS︰ adorable/adorable. ae/aer. angel/angel. anger/anger. antique/antique. app/apparition. bell/bell. berry/berry. berserk/berserk. bjd/bjd. bla/black. blank/blank. bliding/bliding. blue/blue. blush/blush. bug/bug. button/button. cake/cake. car/carcasse. cheer/cheer. cloth/cloth. coffin/coffin. control/control. coo/croon. cor/cor. cor/corrupt. core/core. corpse/corpse. coy/coy. crack/cracked. cracked/cracked. cre/creepy. creep/creepy. cu/curse. cu/cute. curse/curse. cute/cute. da/dark. de4/de4d. de/dear. de/demure. dea/dead. dead/dead. dead/death. dear/dear. death/death. decay/decay. delica/delicate. delicate/delicate. demon/demon. despair/despair. dirt/dirty. do/doll. doll/doll. doll/dolly. dolly/dolly. dread/dread. dress/dressup. dress/up. d♡ll/d♡ll. eer/eeerie. elegant/elegant. en/energy. end/end. evil/evil. eye/eye. fabric/fabric. fae/fae. fi/figure. fig/figure. figurine/figurine. flower/flower. fragile/fragile. frail/frail. friendly/friendly. frill/frill. fury/fury. gho/ghost. glass/glass. glo/gloomy. gore/gore. grave/grave. grief/grief. grim/grimm. grime/grime. gru/grudge. ha/haunt. happy/happy. haun/haunt. hx/hxm. h♡/h♡m. it/it. joint/joint. joint/jointed. joy/joy. ke/ker. kew/kewpie. kill/kill. kor/kor. kor/korrupt. la/lace. lace/lace. lae/lace. lo/love. lo/loved. lolita/lolita. love/love. mad/mad. mae/mae. mari/marionette. marionette/marionette. me/meek. mi/mier. mim/mimic. model/model. morbid/morbid. mu/mutter. mur/murmur. nap/nap. null/null. ny/nym. patch/patch. phan/phantom. pink/pink. pitter/patter. plastic/plastic. play/play. play/playtime. play/time. plush/plush. plush/plushie. por/porcelain. porce/porcelain. porcel/porcelain. porcela/porcelain. porcelain/porcelain. pose/pose. pose/posed. possess/possessed. pup/puppet. puppet/puppet. rea/reality. rest/rest. reven/revenge. rib/ribbon. ribbon/ribbon. rot/rot. scare/scare. scary/scary. seem/seem. sew/sew. sew/sewn. shi/shift. shi/shiver. shx/hxr. sh♡/h♡r. sie/sier. silk/silk. slee/sleep. sleep/sleep. smile/smile. snap/snapped. sneak/sneak. soft/soft. sou/soul. spi/spider. spi/spirit. spo/spook. spook/spook. sta/stalk. sta/stare. statue/statue. sti/string. stitch/stitch. string/string. sweet/heart. sweet/sweet. sweet/sweetdolls sweetie/sweetie. ta/tap. te/teer. tea/teatime. teeth/teeth. thre/thread. thread/thread. thxy/thxm. th♡y/th♡m. ti/timid. to/toy. toy/toy. toy/toytime. trick/trick. un/canny. unca/uncanny. ve/ver. vey/vem. vi/vr. vintage/vintage. vomit/vomit. wan/wander. watch/watch. whi/whisper. white/white. wilt/wilt. wood/wood. wrath/wrath. yarn/yarn. zzz/zzz. ♡/♡. ⚰️ . 🍨 . 🛌 . 🛏️ . 🥀 . 🧸 .

[shini--chan]

If requests are still open: Alfred x WW2!Nurse darling. Both flirt and dance with each other and have a good time. Some time later Nurse!Darling finds her beau on a stretcher cold and heading to the morgue. She’s sad, but it’s war what can be done? The war ends and she begins thinking of settling down with a nice fellow who’s been sweet on her. But then he’s back. Talking to officers and such as if he never died. She’s rooted to the ground, and that’s when he spots her and smiles.

A/N: Nice idea, I’ll pick up where the ask ends. Historical based asks are always welcome. This is rather short, since I wanted to get it finished in time.

Yandere America - Eternal Recurrence

Trigger warnings: war, discussions and depictions of corpses

The alcohol was flowing smoothly, and the jazz music was lively. There probably hadn’t been any jazz music in any of the dance halls of Nürnberg, because the Nazi hadn’t condoned “black” music. Whereas before you had allowed the music to raise your spirits, now it sounded distant. In general, the world around you seemed so far away and dreamlike, and the only thing that was of substance was him. It seemed almost like the first time you had yet Alfred F. Jones when you had been back in England and the preparations for D-Day had been underway. 

The two of you had met in a bar, and he had flashed a Hollywood smile your way when he had finally caught his eye. You had ended up sitting on his lap later that evening, and he had plied you with chocolate and sweet words. In contrast with the soldiers from the Empire and her colonies and dominions, he had been well-fed and well-heeled, not affected by rationing and with far more to show off because of that. 

One thing had led to another and you had started seeing him more often. Between everything, he had somehow managed to get you reassigned to the US Armed Forces, and to him. That story didn't have a happy end though, despite his assurances and initial charm. 

He was here, he was supposed to be dead. He was wearing the same megawatt smile that had enticed when you had first met, while all logic pointed to him being a decomposing corpse far away. You would know, because you had declared him dead yourself. You also know that you hadn't made a mistake - a quarter of his head had been missing due to an artillery shell. You had filled out the dead certificate yourself, and had placed it with his dog tags in an envelope. 

As he made his way over to you, you remained rooted on your spot by the bar. The other guests occasionally jostled you, or blocked your field of vision, yet none of these interruptions made the ghost disappear. 

It was far too soon that he was by your side. Alfred looked better than you remembered. Tall and broad-shouldered, he filled out his uniform neatly. Blond hair was tousled, and his cheeks had a redness to them that his corpse certainly hadn't had. A look at his collar told you that the two silver bars of Captain had been replaced with the golden leaf of major. While you had heard of death granting redemption, you had never heard of it giving promotions. At least not of those that could be received and utilized by the intended. 

“Evening, sweetheart. It's been far too long hasn't it?”, he said. One hand settled on your waist in a familiar gesture and you flinched at his touch. 

You had to grip the side of the bar to steady yourself and your breathing went faster and shallower. “Is it really you Alfred?”, you choked out. 

At the moment, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. While in the field hospital, you had closed his one remaining eye, and had covered the missing part of his head

The hand on your waist traveled a smidgen lower to rest on the wig of your hip. The other hand cupped the side of your face. “Know look at me sweetheart. I missed you so much.” He leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I missed you so much that I decided to come back from the dead for you.”

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Your knees gave out from under you, but Alfred caught you before you could collapse. He pressed you to him. He smelled of cologne and ceder and more alive than he had any right to be. His words settled in your mind yet they didn’t fully compute. 

You looked over his shoulder only to see your new boyfriend staring at you in the arms of another man. John’s grip around the two glasses in his hands tightened and a vein jumped in his forehead. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all. Alfred was possessive and self-righteous and entitled. You had beared with it because the positives had kept you alive. He had been so dazzling that he had blinded you to his faults. His death had drowned you with grief so that you had forgiven him for all his missteps. 

However, now the hairs on the back of your neck were standing on end, and there were tears in your eyes and your mind was screaming for you to run, because John wouldn’t survive this. What was an ant in the face of a god? 

[wizardnuke]

i love c2 so much i love it so much so so so much. look at these bad bitches in c3. they're so scary. bad news. like..bh has always known who keyleth and delilah are. they're iconic to exandria. and then we have these lesser-known characters coming out of the woodwork, lvl20 and somehow still unknown. what did they do to get that far? what have they seen? essek stands with bh in aeor, dispassionate at the sight of three corpses. the day before, he threatens an archmage and she spits back but doesn't dare raise a hand to him. how do they know each other? bh doesn't know. a while back - a monk threatens imogen. behind her, a wizard steps out of invisibility with his hands up and ready to cast. who are they? widogast? lionett? how are they involved in this? why are they hunting da'leth? how are they hunting da'leth? widogast sent essek. how does he know essek? they're not from the same country. essek hasn't told them that his partner is caleb. there's so much that bell's hells doesn't know about these people and it's by design! the m9 don't want to be known! especially in beau's/caleb's/essek's case they literally function by being untraceable as they handle the da'leth issue. no one knows who the m9 are do you think about it. no one knows. no one knows. everyone and their mother has heard of keyleth. delilah is a ghost story. who are these wizards, man. what's up with the monk. who are they. what have they seen. NO ONE . KNOWS

[sugoi-writes]

This is Not a Love Story, This is an Autopsy - Part 1

A/N- PHEW! I wanted to kick out of my hiatus with something I've been itching to do... An original series! I wasn't quiet happy with some of my longer works (and trust, they will probably be rewritten, too). So, this is the start of something new! Something that'll be fresh!

I've been heavily inspired/influenced by @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes, who keep encouraging me to just... do it. So I'm doing it!

BEFORE you get too invested, this story WILL be dark. It will be GOREY, graphic at times, there will be filthy, raunchy smut... But this is gonna be a LOT of hurt, with VERY LITTLE comfort. Alastor will NOT be a kind man. The title should be taken seriously, if you wish to continue. BUT FOR NOW... PHEW... sorry, here's part one!!!

Warnings/Promises: Mystery murder woman, Alastor is intrigued, a poor demon suddenly doesn't have a face, cursing, banter, Mystery woman wants to kill Alastor, and Alastor doesn't have GREAT intentions either... Just-- Alastor being ALASTOR! (Mystery woman is referred to in 3rd person, but this may change! Not sure yet)

Please enjoy! ❤️ Header image created by bat-boness on Tumblr! ❤️

Alastor's evening stroll simulated any other: pleasantries exchanged with himself, and his dainty, dated tunes filling the air. This served as a chipper contrast to his surroundings of hurried footsteps, startled shrieks, and the general cacophony on this side of The Pentagram. Oh, tonight was certainly a good night! ...But it was about to get so much better.

The sound of wet squelching, akin to a crushed watermelon, caught his attention. His deer-like ears twisted in it's direction, his smile expanding. What a curious sound! One he was aptly familiar with! It could only be one thing...

Gurgling, disjointed cries and the sputtering of fluids sounded like a grotesque melody. Alastor could hear steady, heavy breathing keeping the tempo. An act of passion... well, in the killing sense, surely. Ever the curious sort, Alastor sent his shadow to investigate. Its wide eyes take in the sight of the alleyway expectantly, eager to witness the fuss first.

A large figure loomed over a hapless victim, the arms flinching and trembling subconsciously as the attacker worked diligently. The sounds from before had morphed into a gut wrenching cutting noise: the unmistakable sound of a sharp knife carving through flesh... but where?

The shadow blinked, inching closer to the scene to get a better look. However, the attacker flinched, turning towards the apparation with a speed that would snap the neck of a human. It was spotted.

In the blink of an eye, a knife came off of a thigh garter belt, hurdling full force towards the Shadow. The knife struck between the entity’s eyes, a heated hiss thrown back to the stranger. Alastor's obedient pet slinked back to its master, unable to give a more helpful report. Alastor hummed in amusement, taking two wide strides to his right. Now, he was stationed at the mouth of the alley, his teeth gleaming under the dim streetlight.

"Do forgive me, dear, I am not known to eavesdrop," a lie, Alastor thought," But I couldn't help but overhear a scuffle~ What did that poor beau do to deserve such fury?"

Alastor wanted to be nearer, to see what you had done to the now-corpse of the demon... but alas, he couldn't just yet. Even with the back facing him, the Radio Demon got a better glimpse at the disheveled stranger.

A large, wide shoulder span dipped in and flowed back out in a delightful curve: a tasteful hourglass shape. Brunette and blonde hair cascaded just past the shoulders, spattered with blood… that was even more tasteful. Judging from the spray's pattern, this blood came from somewhere else… or someone else, in this case. The broad shoulders led to muscular, intense looking arms. The limbs were so red that it seemed they were dipped in a vat of coagulated blood. He could scarcely see the little nicks and scars that littered the taunt skin.

When Alastor continued to walk forward, a sharp turn of the head greeted him. Startling, grey eyes with bloodshot whites glared back at him. The figure didn't answer him, staring him down with a look that could frighten a dictator. Blonde and brunette fringe framed the face, a soft contrast to the rest of the body. Full, flushed cheeks from exertion, complimented by wide eyes and a set of thick, heavy lashes. And, dozens of shallow, silver-white scars littering the pale, plump face. Alastor's eyebrows rose with interest, the silence only motivating him to get closer.

The figure growled, snarling like a caged animal as it turned fully towards him... a woman, he assumed. This woman had blood sprayed across her entire upper body, indicating that this was indeed a passionate act of murder.

Alastor ceased his advances, both hands coming up in mock-surrender.

"Oh come now, dear, I mean no harm... 'just curious~ Won't you humor a demon for a spell? You might just hear your little story on my broadcast tonight~" he nearly sang, eyes squinting and watching carefully. He could tell that this beast of a woman was on high alert, and would likely try and jump him if he so much as thought the wrong word. Though he was confident in his abilities to defend himself, he was no bodybuilder: a fisty cuff that got too heated could mean his second death.

The woman’s gaze remained unphased as she came to her feet. Then, it morphed into a look of recognition.

While the mystery woman realized who was speaking to her, Alastor discovered what she had been carving off of the victim: his face. Alastor watched with an irrational sense of delight as the heavily scarred woman faced him properly. He couldn't help but shift his eyes to the scalped face of the victim, feeling his hands ball up into eager fists behind his back.

The cadaver’s face was grasped in the brunette’s calloused, large hands, blood sliding through her knuckles like a babbling creak in the woods. Had he been a sane man, he would have found the image unsightly. But between his fall from grace and his afterlife of trouble… he found the sight utterly delicious.

Alastor swallowed something in his throat... nerves? Excitement? A mutual interest between strangers? What an evening to find a like-minded individual…

"...You're the Radio Demon..." the murderer said simply. Her voice was a hard, uneven gravel, as if she hardly spoke at all. Alastor's smile widened, giddy at the budding interaction.

"Ahh, my reputation precedes me~ But you can call me Alastor, sweetheart. And what may I call you, hmm?" The tone of his sing-song charm did not match the cannibalistic mania of his too-wide smile. His voice was the cheese, nestled inside an obvious mousetrap.

Alastor stepped even closer, extending a hand out to the rabid-looking woman. Her steely eyes looked to his hand, before back to his face. Her expression remained unchanged.

"...I don't do handshakes," she replied bluntly, her gaze burrowing holes into Alastor's complexion. She seemed to watch him just as intently, acutely aware of his dark aura. Her words sought to disguise her own intrigue.

"Ahh, apologies, dear-- Deeeaaaar...?"

Alastor raised a brow while he drew out the last word, eye twitching with annoyance. He cocked his head slightly as he leaned in, trying to goad her into a response. He expected a name sometime tonight. A name... just a name. If he had her name, he could work with that. Just let him get under that barrier, even if it's just a crack--

"I don't have one," the woman spat back, either uninterested or able to see through Alastor’s antics (of which, the Radio Demon wasn't sure).

A record scratch leaked through his frequency at the abrupt response. The curtness throttled his already thinking patience... Alastor's wide smile stammered for a moment, a tense chuckle bleeding through his clenched jaw. His fuzzy and sound-dampened amusement was practically oozing irritation...

Likewise, the tension that hung between the pair was far too thick.

This needed to be carved through with a knife, Alastor thought. He could still do this.

"Nonsense dear! Why, EVERYONE has a name!!! Surely there is something that people use to call you? To refer to you???" Alastor was a bit surprised by his own persistence. Why did her lack of name manage to throttle him?

...right. He found her fascinating, that's all. And fascinating people in Hell were often easy to exploit... easy to force into a deal. And by extension, she would be useful and entertaining.

"...people usually don't get the chance to talk to me," the brunette replied. Her stoney, hardened face slowly shifted into a sly smile. She chortled wickedly, licking her cracked lips,"...but they usually beg for their lives right about now."

Her sudden lunge surprises Alastor momentarily, before his pitch tendrils snap into action. The mad woman is caught and suspended mid-launch, a heavy tentacle struggling to keep her knife-wielding arm in check. Alastor clicks his tongue mockingly at her aggression. Back to square one, it seemed. What a simple creature!

"Ohh dear, is that a way to talk to someone? If you plan to stab me, at least offer to take me on a stroll first. Perhaps to a coffee shop?" The deranged woman's mouth was tightly pulled into a horrifying snarl, teeth bared and glistening with spit. Had she contracted rabies? Or was she still riding the feral high of a fresh kill? Neither option seemed to startle or surprise Alastor all that much.

He paid her no mind as he walked around her in a slow, teasing circle: like a predator circling helpless prey. But the woman grunted and struggled just the same, hair falling into her face as she tried to break free. The noises she made had shivers of pride running up Alastor's spine. This interest almost seemed... more than that. More than morbid curiosity… He shook the thought away from his mind, his cheeks burning from how harshly he forced himself to smile.

Alastor stepped within striking distance, another tentacle wrapping around the knife-wielding hand as he looked at her troubled face.

"G-Go-- nnnhhhfucker-- Go fuck yourself, freak," the woman hissed, spitting towards the Radio Demon. He simply tilted his head, the spittle missing his pristine cheek. Annoying and gauche... he would have to break her of that garish habit.

"I'm afraid carnal desires haven't interested me for quite some time. Well... past the one you dabbled with moments ago. I must say I'm mighty interested in your handywork~"

Alastor's taloned hand squished the cheeks of the captured woman, turning her face this way and that. Alastor was smirking with an air of superiority as he took in every imperfection and scar that maimed her round face... To him, she was breathtaking, each scar revealing an incident or story he would be familiar with. He felt interested in dissecting her, and figuring out just what or who caused the nicks and cuts.

Thankfully, his brush with murder and other crimes made breaking down her injuries a breeze. Most of them could be summarized as self defense marks left by a weaker victim. This woman was STRONG... There was no question about that. And she wasn't afraid of getting dirty to get her desires fulfilled. He could find that quality to be quite charming... quite useful.

"If you truly do not have a name... might I suggest one?"

The question puzzles the brunette, eyes blinking in rapid succession. It took her a few moments to process the offer.

"You... want to name me?" She retorted, her squished face distorting her bewilderment," Like some goddamn PET?"

"I’m simply offering you one, dear. No need to make a fuss. Perhaps you could find it helpful, should you ever need to be referred to more... directly. With familiarity. You needn't take it, if it displeases you."

Alastor sighed dramatically as the woman thrashed in anger, shaking his head in tandem. It was quite easy to backtrack with this one, wasn’t it?

The woman stared back at the Radio Demon, intense grey embracing hellish red in a heated standoff. One could kill the other in a heartbeat, their acts only halted by straining tentacles. They were in a tense ceasefire, if only for their own sakes.

The woman sighed, relenting after what felt like an eternity," If it causes you to let go of me... you may give me a name, Radio Demon."

"Alastor," the male corrected, pinching her cheeks with harsher intent. The woman winced, but nodded curtly," A-Alastor..."

The venom that oozed from her harsh tone made molten heat fill Alastor’s chest. She could be obedient… how interesting.

The deer demon sneered, face reflecting his earlier delight as his eyes briefly flickered. The name rolled off her tongue so easily... Oh, he liked seeing her like this. Another charming quality he could get used to… and take use of.

"Carver."

The woman blinked, scoffing," Really?"

"Yes. Carver. You could always go by 'The Carver', if you wished, but I rather think the name suits you... a little on the nose, maybe, but simple. Just like you." Alastor's thumb rubs over the woman's cheek, a claw dangerously close to gouging her eye out. The demoness’ face softens, the touch causing conflicting feelings to flit across it.

Fright, anger, surprise, and… yearning. Had Alastor not been observant and experienced with reading people, he might have missed a few of these. Hell, the micro expressions lasted for seconds, if that… But thankfully, his eyes were as sharp as the blade hovering above his head.

Alastor’s hand pauses on her flushed cheek, stashing the useful information in the recesses of his dark mind.

"...fine... That name is fine, Alastor."

Carver fell to the dank and rancid ground with a heavy thud, Alastor clasping his hands together resolutely. Tentacles were dismissed as he eyed her eagerly.

“Splendid, dear! Carver it is! Now, about our earlier topic–”

Carver dusted off her knees as she stood, eyeing the deer-esque demon cautiously. She allowed him to continue, despite her better judgment to gut him then and there.

“What do you say to a bit of coffee, over lunch?”

Carver blinks for a moment, then another, arms folding in front of her chest,” You're joking, right?”

Alastor practically giggles, a dark tendril reforming to hold up the skinned face of her victim,” I'm more of an emcee than a comedian, dear… though I can never pass on a good punchline! Haha!”

When Alastor extends the face to the woman, he squints mischievously,” But no, I'm being quite genuine… Tomorrow, Cannibal Town. There's a quaint little shop by Rosie’s Emporium, the Brimstone Brew… I trust that you've heard of it?”

Curtly, Carver nods, taking her trophy from the Radio Demon indignantly,” Vaguely. I just started working a new job closeby, actually,” she admits. The moment she does, she mentally curses herself. Alastor’s eyes widen, a hand childishly coming to cover his lips. Or more accurately, like a elitist, royal woman with her hand fan, trying to stife her reaction to juicy gossip.

“Pray tell, what do you do~?”

Carver scoffs, casting her gaze anywhere other than the man’s demented smile,” …just some butcher shop. The manager apparently got… well, butchered. So there was a vacancy that the Assistant Manager filled. Soooo… I– I was pulled in to become the new assistant there.”

Alastor seemed on the verge of jumping out of his own skin, leaning forward intently.

“You? Working in one of my favorite stops? Oh, how convenient, dear! Then hows about I ‘meat’ you there! Haha!”

The joke did not go unnoticed, a gruff ‘really?’ following after. He would need to work on her enthusiasm, too.

“See, we could go for a little stroll, and you can tell me more about this new venture of yours! Why, if it's entertaining enough, I'm sure your story would captivate an audience! My audience!”

Carver didn't get the chance to protest as the dapper demon took a few steps back, tipping his imaginary hat her way.

“Let's shoot for 11 o’clock, ‘sharp as your knife! I look forward to getting to know you better… Carver.”

And within a second, the crimson and ebony demon vanished into the shadows. Carver was left confused and stupefied by the entire interaction. She didn't even get a chance to tell Alastor that she actually had work that morning… not that the Radio Demon would stand for it. But, maybe she could brush him off easier this way… She was sure her new manager would intervene or prevent the entire situation from escalating...

The woman dug around in her satchel, until she found a gallon freezer bag. She unceremoniously threw the bloody, skinned face of her victim into her pack, rolling her eyes. Maybe ‘Carver’ was an alright name after all…

What a fucking day… and what a fucking man, to have the nerve to be so… so…

Carver blinked a few times, words escaping her. He was an asshole, but also seemed to have manners… He was infamous, but didn't seem to match the dark reputation… He was bitchy, but also… surprisingly gentle with her?

Carver touched her cheek, where a taloned finger once lingered. A swift flush ghosted across her face as she kicked the corpse on the ground, huffing defiantly. The sooner she could shake this guy off her back, the better. She didn't do ‘friends’. She didn't even have acquaintances. And yet, all in one night, she was given a nickname and asked to go on a coffee date, seemingly just to… talk?

Never would she have imagined such an odd scenario before now. But, she did have an interesting opportunity. Take him out on a date before you stab him, she loosely recalled. And she was more than eager to take him up on that offer to get him off her back.

Carver chuckled, clicking her tongue as she started the trek to her apartment. Maybe she could call in sick tomorrow! Why not?

She could humor this man, if only to hear what his screams would sound like. She hoped that his terror sounded as desperate and sweet as the ones from his broadcast… An artist often immolated their work, and she had a feeling that his anguish would taste just as divine...

This is not a love story. This is an autopsy.

[foxmulderautism]

ENDING WAS SOOOO LAME but god the blood and gore and special effects were sooo good it can’t not be an official beau fave

best part of american werewolf in london is when he called prince charles a faggot

[poreyneel]

If you're comfortable sharing, what is Yirliyen's backstory?

FINALLY SOMEONE ASKED!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU it's going to be a long post... also, there are A LOT of things I wrote for my Rook specifically even if it goes contrary with canon feel free everyone to ask something else!! so, let's begin

Yirliyen Mercar (he/him) city elf from Tevinter mage (evoker)

BACKGROUND

Yirliyen was picked up on the streets of Minrathous - he is the only child in a foster family of Soporati. Their relationship is very strained due to their differences (mage elf in a non-mage human family). His parents were military and devoted servants of the Imperium: disciplined, straightforward, demanding, and in fact they raised simply a very convenient and useful weapon for them to use. Yirliyen tries not to remember the past associated with them, because for some time he was engaged in dirty and menial work such as helping magisters in their rituals or cutting up corpses and disposing of the remains (mostly they were elven slaves). There were moments when he wanted to cut off his elven ears, or when he didn't understand “what was wrong with him” and why everyone, even his parents, hate him. Seeing elven slaves on the streets of Minrathous was horrifying - he was afraid that he can end up like that, too. It was around that time when the Shadow Dragons, one might say, saved him.

The Shadow Dragons did not become his family but they helped him to get through the darkness and escape his family's grasp. For Yirliyen, Minrathous is a city that causes a storm of internal conflicts. He doesn't hate the city, or innocent people - he hates rulers and authorities. Yirliyen wants to help making Tevinter better - at any cost, with which he has many similarities with Dorian Pavus. Dorian is kind of his role model or even father figure, I think, alongside with Maevaris Tilani being his beau ideal.

PERSONALITY AND CHARACTER TRAITS

wears a lot of masks and doesn't let people know his true nature (he has a hard time trusting others, so it's easier to him not let people too close to him)

humor as a coping mechanism

doesn't know what love, friendship, family, traditions or care are (with Veilguard it changes, but not that much - ask me and I will write an essay how Emmrich opened his heart he didn't know he had)

he knows Tevene only a little bit - from books and conversations

he often says what he thinks about people directly, in the moment

under the jewelry he hides a scar on his ear, also he has two scars on his neck

doesn't like excessive luxury - he believes that everything should be practical first of all. But he really loves works of art

he is very empathetic, despite the disdainful attitude towards him

hates violence, which is why he has a very strong internal conflict - he believes that by resorting to violence or blood magic he will be no better than the Venatori, but on the other hand, sometimes a radical path is needed for the sake of changes

he got a tattoo on his forehead and piercing during his adventures with Varric also he started doing makeup from these times too

THANK YOU AGAIN!! HOPE IT WAS INTERESTING It's still really new for me to write about my characters... I always feel like no one gives a shit... hope others will enjoy Yirliyen as I do

[yellowjacketsfashion]

Hi! Do you think you could do like a tour of Lottie or Jackie's caboodle? Like a "What's in my caboodle" kind of post? I think that would be a funny post worth making lol

What’s in the Yellowjackets Caboodle?

Tier 1:

• Blush (from Laura Geller, close match to the blush used on corpse Jackie in 02x02).

• Shimmery Pink lipstick (similar to the one used by Misty during 01x09)

• Blush Brush (similar to the one used by Shauna in 02x02)

• Revlon Lipstick (close match to the one used on corpse Jackie though alternatively it could also be a Mac lipstick)

Tier 2:

• Great Lash mascara (used by Jackie in 01x09)

• Pink eyelash curler (similar to the one seen in 01x03)

• Purple, Pink, and Blue hair ties (similar to the ones seen in 01x03)

• L.A. COLORS Sunday lip balm (seen in 01x03)

————————————————————————

• Brown and Black claw clips (similar to the ones seen throughout the caboodle scenes)

• Ladies Choice Deodorant (close match to the deodorant seen in the caboodle in 01x03)

Tier 3:

• Pink Plaid scrunchie (similar to the one seen in 01x03)

• Purple hair brush (similar to the one seen in 01x09)

• Eyeshadow palette (the Mac “4 Beau” palette is a close match to the palette used on Misty in 01x09.

References:

Episode 01x03

Episode 01x09

Episode 02x02

————————————————————————

Hopefully this lives up to what you wanted from your ask! I wasn’t able to include everything seen in the caboodle but I think I covered most of the bases. If anyone else can recognize any of the other products seen in the caboodle please let me know!

[santsukii]

ᯓ✿ there was no saving you

ˋ°•*⁀➷ inspired by this amazing fic by beau 🫶 in which your illness only seems to get worse

ˋ°•*⁀➷ baizhu x gn! reader

₊˚ ANGST!!! MUCH ANGST, marrying a corpse but like not in a weird way, character death (reader)

he wished he knew from the very second you met that it wasn’t meant to last. the medicines he had brewed for you kept you sleeping and comfortable until the inevitable end. something kept baizhu standing by that bed, he could have gave up but he took care of you. even as you became weaker and barely able to stand for longer than a minute, he was losing sleep looking for something, anything that could cure you. maybe it was his dedication to medicine, or maybe he loved you despite your fleeting life.

in the middle of the night, the doctor had fallen asleep at his desk when he awoke from a nightmare and decided that enough is enough. he had realized something that night, something he hadn’t realized he wanted. baizhu knew deep down that there was absolutely nothing he could do to save you from the rapidly approaching end, this thing is going to kill you sooner rather than later. he’d find himself talking to you while you were fast asleep under the influence of the cocktail of medicines he’d given you to keep you comfortable, telling you everything and pretending you could hear him. if he could only take the ailment that will soon take your life and transfer it to himself, he would in a heartbeat.

as your condition further deteriorated, he knew the end would come in only days. as you took your last breath before falling into an eternal sleep, baizhu’s heart shattered into a million pieces. placing a silver ring on your finger, he’d carry your lifeless body to the grave he prepared just outside his house.

day after day, the doctor would place the flowers you loved on your grave, hopelessly praying that you’d be happy and without the illness that had taken your fleeting life on the other side.