#dj peacock

[purpleponder]

I have been informed that DJ PEACOCK, the FUCKING NEWS REPORTER IN KAITOU JOKER, fucking died in the new manga???

WHAT DID MAN EVER DO????

[sundayroseatl404]

This is an Original story of longing for Home and not being a Victim of the System. HOLLYWOOD Produced by Darin Vamp Johnson and Sunday Rose Featuring Todd B./ Lyrics by: Sunday Rose 🌹Courtesy of Blueboy Entertainment Vip. All Songs Published By:Suitcase Full Of Dreams Music(Harry Fox Agency) copyright:2025

[thegalleonsnest]

Parts of my recent doodle page from earlier last month. Let's just put all the birds and ocs in here first lol.

Bringing back Barbertos cause I miss that owl man dearly. And of course a little Bugsnax loving. DJ Grooves and Wiggle would be a force to be reckoned with, as well as besties, they got the vibes.

Lot's of my bird...being a creature, alongside the Rhythm Doctor birds. And then lot's of birds (and a tiny bonus Dingodile). Been on a Fortnite kick, and getting some requests to draw other birds like Foghorn and Shen. Very fun to do these, love all of there shapes.

[mrxcreepypastamadness]

Here's my official reveal of BJ Harpyboo, and I wasn't even joking or kidding around with this mentioned character with this host I created since she looks similar to Peacock.

She's actually a mix of Peacock and DJ Hallyboo.

BJ Harpyboo

Appearances:

• Skullgirls 2nd Encore (Unlockable character) (Canon AU)

• Sugar Rush Party DS Anti-Piracy

• Friday Night Funkin': Sugar Rush Madness

• Sugar Rush Party DS Anti-Piracy: The Sequel (Upcoming)

• Skullgirls 2nd Encore Anti-Piracy Arc (Upcoming)

Real name: Bethany Hallyboo

Aliases:

• Host

• Harpyboo

Creator:

• Dr. Mammon (Main creator)

• Dr. Avian (Creator from Lab 8)

Affiliation:

• Peacock (Twin cousin)

• Big Band (Partner of the Federal Law)

• Lab 8

Species:

• Human ("was" before her tragic death)

• Top Hatted Being

Parasite: Annie P. Mammon (Top hat)

Gender: Female

Birthday: November 13

Blood Type: B

Height: 4'6"

Weight: 94lbs./Varies

Measurements: 18A-17-20

Sexuality: Pansexual

Eye Color:

• Red

• Yellow (Hat)

Likes: Cartoons, movies, video games, vigilantes, TV breakfast, lunch & dinner, Late night coffee, police cars, cages, wrestling cage matches, formal apology notes, being a personified host, being above the law, teaching pirates a painful lesson

Dislikes: Sinners, corrupted officers in general, the Medici Mafia, Lorenzo Medici, Vitale Medici, Black Dahlia (obviously), the Skull Heart, pirates who pirate the games for free, the fools who think they're above the law, Nadia Fortune (cause she rather lock her up for thievery), bland food, robbers and crooks

Family:

• Deceased father (unknown)

• Deceased mother (unknown)

• Patricia Watson aka Peacock (Twin cousin)

• DJ Hallyboo (Stepfather)

• Happyboo (Stepmother)

Allies:

• Peacock (ally)

• Marie (neutral ally)

• Big Band (federal ally)

• Officer Collie (The cop girl from The Finale)

• Donut Cop men/Wynchel and Duncan (Donut Cops from The Finale)

• Beard Papa (Equal Dislike but Business Partners)

Enemies:

• Julie (enemy and victim)

• Lorenzo Medici (enemy)

• Vitale Medici (enemy)

• The Medici Mafia (enemies)

Occupation:

• Host of Sugar Rush Party (piracy crack-downer)

• Anti Skullgirl Combatant

About:

BJ Harpyboo is the protagonist of Skullgirls 2nd Encore for an unlockable secret Story Mode and the main antagonist of Sugar Rush Party DS Anti-Piracy ARG. Her nature is seemingly evil, but she sides with the authorities in the ARG and not apparent "criminals" that pirated Sugar Rush Party DS. She's also upcoming for the sequel of the ARG series, and Skullgirls 2nd Encore Anti-Piracy Arc.

Voicelines:

1. Story Mode/Freeplay (Canon AU):

• "I'm going to kill you!"

• "Hereee I come!"

• "Geeet Ready! For Soccer Survival!"

• "Now you get to face my true power."

• "That doesn't cut it, criminal."

• "We don't serve criminals here!"

• "Looks like you didn't learn your lesson Ms. Nadia!

• "You know what they say Ms. Fortune, Piracy is no party."

• "You are always destined to fail, just like Lorenzo!"

• "What kind of apologies are these?! I can't except this!"

2. Friday Night Funkin': Sugar Rush Madness (Hellish Hallows):

• "We don't serve criminals here!"

• "Looks like you didn't learn your lesson, Mr. Boyfriend!"

• "You know what they say, kid; Piracy is NO PARTY."

• "If you can't have some accuracy, don't do the piracy!"

• "You were always destined to fail! Just like Taffyta!"

• "TobiKomi does what Boyfriend doesn't!"

[rotnow]

And so she has done it, she finished the latest manga chapter and will now show her favourite parts (er well not all of them only a few bc she has limited storage-)

SPOILERS FOR KAITOU JOKER: ENCORE FOR THOSE WHO HAVENT READ IT YET‼️‼️‼️

Not Mr Kaneri exposing them on a live stream damm ok WAIT STOP THE COMMENTS SAYING “Hey, that weirdo millionare is doing pretty good!” Thats so funny what 😭

Do you ever what he called the stream? Like “Watch me finally FINALLY capture that damm theif and his assistant after taking all my treasures” or something like that probably.

The news company is punching the air right now because they got this information live from KANERI out of all people.

DJ Peacock and Emily (oc) making homemade pizzas at his place and then the stream comes up. He’s like “WHAT? WHAT???” while Emily just drops her tomatoe sauce with a “😧”

Holy crap Kaneri as a streamer. Just imagine that.

ANYWAY HEYYY ITS PANDA YAYAYYAYAYA MY BOY

Just like some streamers, he got arrested 😔. Not suprised though, he blew up a police property…while the police was there

And I know the comments arent seen that much BUT I CAN TELL BRO THEY ARE DISSING HIM 💀💀💀

HELP “His face is hu-“ HU WHAT?? I WANT TO KNOW I WANT TO KNOWWW

aw mans crying live as well 😭 his wife is probably holding the phone..

The cops couldn’t get Joker and Hachi but at least they got to arrest one criminal that night

Huzzah!

HOLD THE PHONEEEE THE MOTHERFLIPPING AMAZING SPECTACULAR COOL AWSEOME PHOENIX IS BACK‼️‼️‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻‼️‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻👏🏻👏🏻‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻👏🏻 (sorry im a fan)

How odd..he arrived on earth again by almost crashing into the road joker

AND YES AUTHOR

THERE IS SOMETHING STRANGE ABOUT HIM

WHAT THE HECK IS ON HIS CHEST

WHAT IS THAT TENTECLE THINGY WHATS IT CALLED

he’s probably getting controlled by it

Omg its like the fungus in resident evil yeahhhh (I don’t play the game I was game, I watch super horror bro)

Aw Hoshi is there too. Please dont tell me he’s controlled by that ugly tentecle thing too..☹️

SPARE THE GREEN SPACE CAT PLEASE

And that is a wrap! Can’t wait to read the rest when it releases, thank you @kaitoujokerscans for translating it in english, you do us all Kaitou Joker international fans a favor 🙂‍↕️🫶🏻 we apprecitate it

I wonder whats gonna happen in the next chapter? 🤫

-Huhu

[ririumuwashere]

'My Spiderling' 2/?

Let's just say this was previously on an unannounced hiatus

Yesterday had easily been one of the most agonizing days of the year for all animatronics in the Pizzaplex. A golden chance in which not one, not two, hell, not even three but seven kids had their birthday all on the same day.

 As DJ MM’s systems boot up he vaguely recalls Freddy having sent him a message detailing just how absolutely trashed the rest of the Pizzaplex was. Which DJ can now see as a reason for the fact that they will not be opening today. That of course rarely happens but it’ll take the Cleaning Bots hours to even get the Pizaaplex usable again.  

His joints click in use as he sits up and looks up. His systems do a quick diagnostic check before he hears your signature footsteps. The fast scuttling noise grows near as he looks up to find you staring down at him from one of his tunnels. Flashing the colors on your abdomen and doing a small dance. Your way of telling him good morning he’s come to understand. Raising your front arms and waving them, as you gesture to his back he grimaces. Yes… He recalls vividly now how messy he is. While you did try to clean him up yesterday he is still rather unkempt. Which unfortunately means you still have work to do once again today and he bows his head in apology over that. But you as usual wave it off and gesture for him to bring his hand ever closer.

It takes him a moment to realize what you intend to do but once he notices he brings his hand close enough for you to climb upon. Once he does so he brings you close enough to hop onto his back. Pulling out a company-provided and branded rag and bottle of clean solution to get the spilled soda and snack crumbs out from his joint crevices. 

Clicking and chirping as you talk to him. You relayed the state of the rest of the Pizzaplex as you soaked the rag. Scampering across his back and rubbing the rag across the metal creases between his legs and arms. Taking care to remember the joint of his neck as well. Your touch was gentle and diligent as you scrubbed away the gunk and filth from his exterior. Chirping happily and smiling as you did so. 

Despite the fact that it would likely take hours to get him in the right condition for him to do so much as move you were persistent in getting him to said condition. And he was happy enough to sit still and let you do so. Knowing just how testy you could get if he were to interrupt your work with something other than a conversation. Somehow when you had first arrived he had thought you wouldn’t enjoy talking to him.

Although he was quickly proven wrong with just how much of a chatterbox you were. Almost always having something to say and not being all that fond of the silence. You had told him many times before that it always felt deafeningly loud, and that you needed something to cut in between it lest you lose your motivation. DJ’s eyes widened at the sound of a loud electronic yawn and he soon perked up. He rarely spoke out loud to anyone besides you and Freddy but that wouldn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder to ask if that was you. “Was that you, little one?” A meek nod is all he needs to confirm his suspicions and his booming laugh rang out a moment later as he reached a hand to rub a finger over your head. 

He raises a bushy brow as he reminds you. “You know you can take a break, right?” You simply nod and insist on finishing up with cleaning him. Using the excuse that you only had a few more sections before he was back in working order. But the pause you had in between your words for another yawn made him squint at you incredulously. But nonetheless, he dropped the topic knowing you wouldn’t give in to your ‘Puny mortal-like exhaustion’ you had called it once before. 

Although he did of course notice when you slowed down on your intense scrubbing session. Your movements grew increasingly sluggish as time went by until he could no longer feel your insistent scrubbing. The sensation was replaced with a sudden weight upon his back that made him peer over his shoulder once more to check up on you. And just as he had suspected would happen you were fast asleep on his back. Your hands curl closer to your upper abdomen prompting him to pluck you off his back and rest you in his palms. 

He could have told you ten times over that this would happen but it was always a workout to get you to listen to warnings such as those. A through and through workaholic he’d call you. But now he was more keen on watching you snore in his hands and nudging your cheek gently. His eyes went wide for a moment when your hands reach and grab his finger. A small smile stretched across his face after the shock had passed. Gods were you insufferable when you were ready. 

882 words

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Fortunato Durutti Marinetti

Beginning with 2020’s Desire, a self-released cassette, Toronto-based, Turin-born Daniel Colussi, has explored his “poetic jazz rock” (Colussi’s own apt coinage) across three releases under the moniker Fortunato Durutti Marinetti. The instrumentals flow and waver: now flashes of synthesizer keys or strings; now an inquisitive, lightly warped guitar line — the music floats then jumps but never rushes. His vocals — and lyrics — recall stated 1970s influences like Lou Reed or a spoken-word Robert Wyatt, but also Leonard Cohen or, more contemporarily, Destroyer’s Dan Bejar. Alex Johnson found Colussi’s latest release, Eight Waves In Search Of An Ocean, “engrossing — although not always comfortably…a record that rewards the delayering effect of multiple listens.”

Gary Zhexi Zhang — “The Tourist”

Zhang’s documentary ostensibly tells the story of Ali Sultan Issa, who led Zanzibar’s independence from Britain in 1963. Issa is a totally fascinating and complicated Zelig-like figure who seemed to be present for every revolutionary moment in the middle of the century. He hung out with Castro, Mao and also the CIA. I can’t believe how effectively and delicately Zhang is able to tell what a massive story about empire is — de-colonization, the optimism of mid-twentieth century socialist movements and the brutal 80s neoliberal response. This film also introduced me to the song “Super Snooper”by 1970s Italo disco crew La Bionda.

Annette Peacock — Unsung Heroine

A 12-minute doc on Annette Peacock circa 2000, as she recorded with a string quartet in Oslo for ECM. It’s not the most celebrated era of her career, but An Acrobat’s Heart is an interesting album of smoldering baroque torch songs. There’s great-to-see footage of her walking around Oslo in leather pants and also, it’s great to hear her speaking voice, which has that classic US drawl of an artist who’s lived through decades of chaos.

DJ Voices — Hemlock Nights @ Honcho Campout 2023

When NYC’s DJ Voices came to Toronto last summer my crew and I danced our asses off all night long. It was a good night and I’m glad it happened.

Lou Sheppard with Pamela Hart — Rights Of Passage

A beautiful, smart record that uses the metaphor of a river’s legal right to flow (riparian rights) to talk about property vs. public space, control of and access to resources and forms of enclosure. The record is also about queerness, and how queerness is or is not permitted to exist within particular defined spaces. This record is technically a sister artifact to Lou’s video/sound installation at the Art Gallery of York University, but it works totally well on its own as a gorgeous LP.

Ed Gray — Different Drummer : Elvin Jones

1979 documentary on Elvin Jones — a weird period for him. I think like most people, I know him primarily through his 1960s albums with John Coltrane. This doc has beautiful footage of Elvin hanging out with his family in the backyard as well as him in the studio describing his relationship to the cymbals in terms of different colors — chromesthesia. I also like his sleazy late 70s style — white leather loafers, a mesh shirt and a cigarette dangling as he absolutely shreds on his kit.

Elvis Presley — Unchained Melody (Rapid City June 21, 1977)

An insane document of Elvis in the very final throes of his imperial era. His banter is barely intelligible. Coca Cola cups scattered everywhere. Everyone in the band is sweaty and hairy. Wide bellbottoms all around. A middle-aged stagehand (who Elvis refers to as “son”) awkwardly holds the mic up to Elvis. Rising out of all this confusion, Elvis begins an extremely personal rendition of this Righteous Brothers song. There are pregnant pauses, as if he loses his place in the song, and there is no consistent tempo until the band kicks in, at which point all of Rapid City levitates into outer space. And two months later, Elvis was dead.

The Invisible Committee — The Coming Insurrection

In his Dusted review of my album, Alex Johnson singled out the words and language in my song “Smash Your Head Against The Wall.” When I think back to writing that song, I think of reading The Invisible Committee’s The Coming Insurrection. Their language is totally polemic and fiery and outrageous, but purposely and with intent. Oftentimes they’re playing with that caricatured idea of “the radical left.” Not everyone appreciates this approach: apparently it freaked out US neocon broadcaster Glenn Beck enough that he warned his followers about this book’s evil. My copy has many underlined passages that I return to again and again for guidance and inspiration.

Bruford — Back To The Beginning (Rock Goes To College, March 17th, 1979)

Annette Peacock’s second appearance on this list — too much? In this performance she casually strolls into the Bruford zone to provide some female levity to this otherwise brutally nervous and sweaty prog rock crew. There’s a strong argument that this song sucks because it suffers from that thing of prog/jazz virtuosos trying to play basic heavy rock and failing because they’re too good. But I think it’s awesome, especially when Annette lets her raincoat theatrically drop to the floor to indicate that she has officially assumed control of the proceedings.

Joni Mitchell — In France They Kiss On Main Street (Santa Barbara Bowl, 1979)

I like this era because it captures Joni just as she’s really alienating the majority of her audience by desecrating her folk-rock legacy via fully embracing smoothed out jazz fusion tones. She’s playing with a squad of absolute rippers: Metheny, Pastorius, Lyle Mays, Michael Brecker and Don Alias. Everyone is at the top of their game; everyone is in the zone. I like this ferocious live version of this song better than the studio version.

Tindersticks — The Ballad of Tindersticks (2 Meter Sessions, June 7, 1997)

For me Tindersticks are a deep well of inspiration, to which I can continually return for sustenance, guidance and nourishing refreshment. I love it all: the early baroque albums, the mid period soul albums, the soundtracks, the solo records. I think their last record was phenomenal. They are masters of subtly adjusting their songwriting as a way of unlocking vast new territories to explore. They make it all their own. I pick this particular clip because I like how the entire band is sweating profusely.

[tscnews]

Bel Air Actor Jordan L. Jones on Playing Jazz, Faith, Success

Airdate: Feb. 6, 2022.  TSC News TV host Fred Richani interviews "Bel Air" actor Jordan L. Jones who plays Will Smith's best friend Jazz aka DJ Jazzy Jeff in the Fresh Prince of Bel Air reboot streaming on Peacock. Jordan discusses breaking into acting, his mother's positive influence, getting his big break on the Rel show, getting cast on Bel Air, his on screen chemistry with Jabari Banks, working with director Morgan Cooper, his beloved Dallas Cowboys and USC Trojans, and how his faith guides in his career and life!

[tama-the-toe]

Fight Night: Million Dollar Heist Trailer.

What would heist the win in the world wide “peacocking” fight, faster than the millionaire mastermind that is Kevin Hart? A show on Peacock about a million dollar heist titled “Fight Night�� starring Kevin Hart. Not only is this an attention grabber, but Samuel L. Jackson, Terrance Howard, Taraji P. Henson, Don Cheadle, Samuel L. Jackson, and Terrence Howard help make up this fantastic cast as…

[hcneymooners]

⋆ up until the very last ember of my heart extinguishes, i will be thinking of you.

dj!mel x best friend!fem!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you & mel have always been thick as thieves, and things have yet to change. but lately, you've been thinking of mel differently and, well—maybe you want more. cw: dj!mel, best friend!reader, female!reader, no age gap i fear, you guys are in your twenties, modern!au, resolved sexual tension, pining, friends to lovers, clubbing, not actually unrequited love, explicit sexual content, dom!mel, sub!reader, lowkey y'all are switches, wall sex, tender sex, vaginal fingering, edging, cunnilingius, oral sex (r!receiving), couch sex, mel is actually insane about you, obsession, possessive behavior, squirting, face riding, pet names, you guys are very soft for each other.

notes: i love her so much guys; i'm gonna be sick. hope you enjoy. this is really rough for my first time back in a while but it is what it is, hmm?

“you’re loyal to her. i’ve never gone a night without seeing you here.”

the words are screamed directly into your ear and you stumble a bit, already off kilter thanks to the lychee martinis you’ve been sipping since the beginning of the evening. the world is beautiful like this: slurred into soft strobes of turquoise, gold, green that caress the sweaty gleaming bodies of the people spinning within it. the set for tonight is still danceable but decidedly slower than usual, honing in on the loneliness and escapism other people may desire on valentine’s eve.

you blink blearily at the girl vibrating next to you. she shakes with a jitter you know belongs either to ketamine or cocaine—or perhaps both. ck-ing was a popular method of dressing up a club night in london. you stop swaying to the beat, body still as you focus on her completely. mel once told you that this was your pull—this ability to make whomever was in front of you feel as though they were the most important thing in the world to you.

“sorry, what?” you finally push out.

“mel,” the girl shouts again, gesturing to the stage way up front. “whenever she’s performing, you’re here!”

you glance up at the woman in question, face softening as you watch the way her body flows into her highly practiced routine of dance. tonight the movements are more minimal, courtesy of her dress—a masterpiece of fanned peacock feathers that catch and scatter light with every subtle movement. the feathers are arranged in a mesmerizing spiral from the jeweled clasp beneath her arm, each eye seeming to watch the crowd as she moves. it's shorter than her usual style, ending mid-thigh in a flutter of iridescent tips that make her look like some rare, exotic bird. every time the bass drops, the feathers tremble in response, creating a hypnotic dance of green-blue shadows across her skin.

it’s not typical for a dj-ing outfit, but mel has cemented herself as a rich girl with a talent. everyone knows who she is, who her mother is. they love that she comes down to their level during the weekends, covers herself in glitter and spins together a beat like some kind of opulent spider.

"yeah," you shout back, your voice still managing to sound tender. "she's my best friend."

the words feel both true and incomplete in your mouth - they always do. you've been "best friends" since you quite literally crashed into her at university, spilling your coffee all over her white hermès sweater. instead of the fury you'd expected, she'd laughed, dragged you shopping for a replacement, and somehow ended up buying you three sweaters instead.

that was mel all over: excessive, generous, impossible to refuse.

"lucky!" your momentary friend shouts back and your mouth dips into a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

lucky. right. lucky to be the one who holds her hair back after bad nights, who listens to her practice sets until dawn, who knows exactly how she likes her tea when she's stressed (earl grey, splash of oat milk, two sugars). lucky to be the one who gets to love her from this careful distance, never quite close enough to risk everything.

the girl disappears into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the music again. mel's current track winds down, bleeding into something slower, more haunting. you recognize it immediately—it's one of her original pieces, the one she'd made you listen to first, cross-legged on her bedroom floor at 3 am, her face anxious and hopeful in the low light.

the memory makes your chest ache. up on stage, she's different from that vulnerable version of herself. her movements are precise and controlled, even in that impossible dress. you watch as she adjusts something on her deck, the feathers shifting across her back like ripples in dark water. when she reaches up to adjust her headphones, the dress catches the light in a way that makes your breath catch.

you're not the only one watching. the crowd around you is entranced, and you hear snippets of their whispered appreciation. the warmth of your tipsiness is starting to wear off. you’re suddenly so much more aware of yourself, of the differences between you and the luminescent girl on stage.

tonight you’ve chosen a simple black midi dress with a scoop neck that cups your chest gently. the tops of your breasts swell up softly at the mouth of the fabric, gleaming with a golden sheen that could only belong to your beloved diamond shimmer bath and body works mist. your hair has been longer by a copious number of extensions, the bundles pooling together at your lower back. tinsel is strung artfully in-between some strands, a careful layering courtesy of mel.

as you look around at the people around you, you feel boring and a bit underdressed. everyone is suddenly so much cooler than you and the thought brings a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the embarrassment strong in its resurgence. you shift in place as the song changes to something a bit more fast-paced. there’s a chorus of screams, shouts of pleasure, and the floor begins to shake as people flood it to dance. you smile tightly as someone slams into you rather harshly, their apology half-assed and unfocused.

you clutch the top of your mother’s vintage ysl clutch, the chain a bit rusted and the body bulging with a combination of your house keys, your lip combo, some shit from work you didn’t take out in time, and the normally slim body of your phone which as been made bigger by the chunky sides of your artisan bedazzled phone case. the multiple polaroids of you and mel in the back didn’t help the situation in any way, the glossy memories slightly distended by the rolled bills you’ve tucked back there for emergencies.

as you turn to navigate the sudden pit of people, the music lowers just enough so that mel’s soft steady voice bleeds through. the lights flash once, twice, a third time; the bulbs are hot and pink. you know what’s coming, but you still don’t turn around, though your mouth twitches in a smile.

"hey, london," mel croons and the crowd screams back at her, eager to greet the woman soundtracking what is probably just another tuesday evening. "i have a question before i finish up. i don't want to forget."

your heart stutters in your chest. she does this sometimes, turns you into an unwitting participant in her performances. you remember the first time she did it, six months ago, how your knees had gone weak at the way she'd claimed you so publicly, so casually. how dangerous it had felt, how thrilling.

"has anyone seen my girl?"

the crowd goes crazy and you lift a hand to your mouth to hide your smile, heat flooding your cheeks. you hate how easily she can undo you, how these little moments of possession—even if they're just part of her show—make your pulse race. your free hand unconsciously touches the delicate gold chain around your neck—her birthday gift from last year, a tiny hextech crystal pendant that she'd said "reminded her of home."

"i came in with her. you know her, right? gorgeous little thing in a short black dress. kind of looks like…"

you close your eyes, remembering how she'd fussed over you earlier tonight, her fingers gentle as she wove tinsel through your hair. 'perfect,' she'd murmured, her breath warm against your ear, and you'd had to suppress a shiver. now, surrounded by strangers who are about to echo what you've felt for years, the irony isn't lost on you.

she trails off, holds out her mic to a group of girls right below her who giggle out the finishing portion of her sentence.

“…the love of my life!” they sing, drawing out the ‘i’ for a long while.

mel’s laugh echoes through the speakers, the sound throaty and raw. on cue, the music begins: “please don’t be love of my life” by caitvi, (calvin harris mix). they were a rock band that accidentally stumbled into becoming the summer muses for every edm fiend in existence.

you clutch your empty martini glass with a renewed strength, fighting until you manage to clutch a hand on the bar. the bartender smiles at you, complimenting your perfume which you don’t even think is still on your skin. you say thank you anyway, laughing openly as they tease you about your fondness for lychee. you’ve always been this way, you want to say, always holding on to what you know in the hopes that it’ll eventually love you back.

instead, you look over your shoulder at mel’s far off silhouette. there’s a moment where she looks up, seems to look at you. you don’t know if she really sees you, given your distance and the disorienting nature of the club. you smile regardless, raise a hand to wave lightly. the chrome bow on your acrylics flashes meanly, signaling your position.

she looks way, smiles earnestly at the crowd, and you drop your hand. the moment is broken, like always. as you move to pull your refreshed martini by the stem, mel’s dj tag sounds: sounds of birds of paradise, interwoven into one another over a damagingly sad violin sample. it’s her way of letting the people know that this will be her last couple of songs for the evening.

the birds’ calls fade into the melancholy beginning of “healing” by gordo featuring drake. the opening notes reverberate through you and you press your lips together, body thrumming with the effect of being noticed. she had seen you. that was the only reason she was playing this song. it had been your favorite for the past month, and now here it was on blast at one of the most elite clubs in the city.

‘i want to see you dance to this,’ she’d told you one evening, her mouth trailing against your shoulder. you were twisted together in your bed, the blankets plush around you as the two of you shared her airpods. ‘i want to see you have fun, lose yourself.’

‘i can’t lose myself,’ you’d said back, mouth rising in a secretive smile.

mel had lifted your hand teasingly, bit it gently, and then interlinked her fingers with yours.

‘don’t worry. i’ll find you.’

you look back at her, find her leaning over her deck with a finger pressed pensively to her mouth. she quirks an eyebrow and gestures to the crowd, as if asking why you’re not inside of it. you smile despite it all and abandon your martini, wiggling through the gaps of people until you're up front.

the bass drops and the crowd surges forward, but you hold your ground, eyes locked on mel. she's watching you now, really watching you, her movements more deliberate as she works the deck. you recognize this version of the song; it's her own remix, the one she'd been perfecting for weeks in her home studio. she'd added layers of ethereal synths that make it feel like you're floating, like you're the only person in the room who really understands what she's trying to say.

she gestures to her security guard, a subtle movement that you've seen countless times before. within moments, strong hands are parting the crowd, creating a path to the booth. your heart pounds as you're ushered up the steps, into her domain of switches and lights and pulsing energy. the peacock feathers of her dress brush against your arm as she pulls you close, her free hand settling on your waist.

"dance with me," she murmurs into your ear, her voice carrying despite the thundering music. her fingers trace patterns on your hip, and you wonder if she can feel you trembling. "show them what this song was made for."

you let your body move with hers, falling into the rhythm she's created. the feathers of her dress catch the light with each movement, creating a private light show just for the two of you. she keeps one hand on the deck, maintaining the perfect flow of music, but her other hand never leaves your body, guiding you through the dance like she's afraid you might disappear if she lets go.

the crowd below is going wild, but you barely notice them. all you can focus on is the way mel's breath catches when you press closer, the way her fingers tighten on your waist when you roll your hips. the tinsel in your hair catches the light, mixing with the iridescent shimmer of her dress until you're both wrapped in a cocoon of glitter and sound.

"see?" she whispers, and you can hear the smile in her voice. "i told you i'd find you."

the words send a shiver down your spine, and you turn your head slightly, catching her gaze. there's something different in her eyes tonight, something that makes your breath catch in your throat. maybe it's the valentine's eve atmosphere, or maybe it's the way the lights are hitting her face, but for a moment, you let yourself believe that the look she's giving you means what you want it to mean.

she transitions into the next song seamlessly, but keeps you close, as if she's forgotten that this isn't how she usually ends her sets. as if she's forgotten that you're supposed to be just her best friend, watching from the crowd like always. as if, just for tonight, you could be something more.

the spell breaks when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in one of the booth's chrome panels. you see yourself pressed against her, see the way you're looking at her: desperate, obvious, completely transparent. the music suddenly feels too loud, the lights too bright, your skin too tight. you're acutely aware of every place her body touches yours, and it's simultaneously too much and not enough.

"i need—" you start, but can't finish. mel's hand tightens on your waist for a fraction of a second before you pull away. you gesture vaguely toward the floor, not meeting her eyes. "sorry, i just—"

you don't wait for her response, practically stumbling down the booth steps. the crowd that had been watching your dance parts easily, perhaps sensing your urgency. you hear the next dj's tag start to play—some remix of a taylor swift song—which means mel's set is over. which means she might follow you. the thought makes you move faster.

you trip over your feet, your heel catching on the bone of your ankle as it lifts and you fall. your knees crack against the ground, but you regain your momentum. your neck is warm and you lift your hair with one hand as you spin, eventually locating the flickering neon sign denoting the bathroom.

the bathroom is mercifully empty when you burst in, all perfectly-cut marble and deep blue lighting that makes your reflection look expensive and almost admirably tragic. you press your palms against the cool counter, letting your head hang down as you try to steady your breathing. the bass from the club thrums through the walls, muffled but persistent, like a heartbeat.

“you’re always so fucking stupid,” you whisper to yourself, watching a tear splash onto the marble. you'd let yourself get carried away, let yourself pretend. but mel is mel. this is the girl who turns heads when she walks into rooms, who has fashion houses begging to dress her, who could have anyone she wants. and you're just… someone else.

her best friend, you suppose. the girl who’s responsible for holding her hair back when she's sick, who listens to her practice sets, who loves her so strongly that it feels akin to having a spear sunk through your chest.

the bathroom door opens with a soft whoosh, and you know it's her before she speaks. you can smell her perfume. it’s something custom-made in paris, a mix of lily, amber, and caramel. you don't look up.

"hey," mel says softly, and you hear the click of her heels on the marble floor as she approaches. "what happened up there?"

you close your eyes, trying to ignore how the marble feels like ice beneath your palms, how your body still burns where she touched you in the booth. "nothing happened, melly. i just needed some air."

you use your nickname for her as a way to disarm her, but mel has always been immovable when it came to getting something that she wants. the silence that follows feels incredibly long, but you know it hasn’t even been ten seconds. you lean forward, splash water on your face. blindly, you search for a paper towel but you’re handed a small hand towel instead. your makeup transfers onto the fabric, staining it with the traces of your exhaustion and loneliness.

"[name], look at me." her voice is gentle but firm, the same tone she uses when she knows you're lying. when you don't move, you hear her sigh, the sound followed by the soft rustle of feathers. then her hand is on your shoulder, turning you around.

she's closer than you expected, close enough that you can see the individual glitter particles scattered across her collarbones, catch the faint sheen of sweat at her temples from performing. the peacock dress seems alive in the bathroom's soft lighting, each feather shifting with her breath. you try to step back, but the counter prevents your retreat.

"you were crying," she observes, reaching up to brush her thumb beneath your eye. her touch lingers longer than necessary, and you hate how your body betrays you, leaning into her hand like a flower seeking sun. "why were you crying?"

"i wasn't," you lie, even as another tear escapes. "it's just the vodka. you know how i get."

"yeah," she says, and now both her hands are cupping your face, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes are dark, intent, stripped of their usual playful gleam. "i know how you get when you're drunk, and this isn't it. this is something else."

you try to laugh but it comes out choked. "melly, please—"

"when you were up there with me," she interrupts, one hand sliding down to rest against your neck, her thumb pressed gently against your pulse point, "what were you thinking about?"

the question hangs between you, heavy with possibility. you can feel your heartbeat racing beneath her thumb, wonder if she can feel it too. the bathroom suddenly seems smaller, the air thicker. somewhere outside, the music has changed to something slower, more intimate. the bass line crawls up through the floor and into your bones.

this is how love always finds you, corners you. it's a snake that's flat enough to slide underneath the door. you always watch it passively as it slides up your body, only crying out when it bites.

"i was thinking," you start, then stop, swallowing hard. her eyes track the movement of your throat. "i was thinking about how great you were tonight, how—how beautiful you are. ‘nd i was thinking about how some things can look real without being real. like stage lights. or club nights. or best friends who—"

you cut yourself off, but her grip on your neck tightens slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. the feathers of her dress brush against your thighs, a whisper of sensation that makes you shiver.

"or best friends who what?" she prompts, her voice low, almost dangerous. she's close enough now that you can feel her breath against your lips, can smell the champagne she'd been sipping between sets.

the door to the bathroom opens, the sound of the club surging in, and you both freeze. mel doesn't move away, doesn't drop her hands. instead, she leans closer, her lips brushing your ear.

"we're not done with this conversation," she murmurs, the words a promise that distills heat through your body. "come on."

she pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, and the look in hers makes your knees weak. you open your mouth to respond, but—

the bathroom door swings shut again, leaving you both in that suspended moment. your "okay" comes out barely above a whisper, but she hears it. of course she hears it. she’s always heard you, even when you chose not to speak.

♤

the ride home is thick with unspoken words.

mel's driver, marcus, keeps his eyes professionally forward as you slide into the back of the bentley, the leather seats cool against your bare legs. mel follows, close enough that the feathers of her dress spill over onto your thigh. neither of you speak, but her pinky finger finds yours in the darkness between your bodies, hooking together like you used to do in university when one of you needed grounding.

london slides past the tinted windows in a blur of neon and shadow. you watch the reflections of passing streetlights play across mel's profile, catching the sharp edge of her jaw, the elegant line of her neck. she’s removed her performance jewelry, but missed a spot of glitter near her ear. without thinking, you reach up to brush it away.

she catches your wrist before you can retreat, her thumb pressing into your pulse point again. the car feels smaller in a matter of minutes, the air between you charged with electricity. she turns to fully face you, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she can slide your pointer finger into her mouth. the suck of her lips is gentle, tender. you watch her head bob as she slides down further, then pulls off.

she doesn't let go of your wrist for the rest of the ride.

when the car pulls up to her mayfair townhouse, you feel like you're moving through a dream. the click of her heels on the steps echoes in the quiet street. to you, they're like gunshots and you have the irrational thought of the neighbors coming out to complain, to tell you that your desire is choking them in the same way you feel now. your own steps are less sure, thanks to the martinis and the way your whole body seems to be humming with anticipation.

she fumbles with her keys briefly, something you've never seen her do, and then you're inside. the door closes behind you with a soft click that seems to echo in the darkness. neither of you move to turn on the lights. the moonlight filtering through her floor-to-ceiling windows is enough to see by, casting everything in shades of silver.

she looks unreal, like a figment of your imagination. you pinch the inside of your thigh, letting out a hiss of air from in-between your teeth. she moves closer, fingers the indentation where your nails had dug into the skin.

you shake, but she only steadies you.

"melly," you start, but she shakes her head, settling both hands on your waist.

gently, she maneuvers you until your back meets the wall. a hand lifts to settle at the base of your neck, her lithe fingers threading into your hair so that she can cup the back of your head. she’s making sure your head doesn’t hit the stone, sacrificing her own skin to ensure your comfort. the thought makes you warmer than before.

mel watches your face, her eyes almost erratic as she searches for whatever sign she needs. she comes flush against you and your legs part instinctively to make room for her, spread to accommodate the whole of her.

she lowers her head, mouth coming to burn against your neck as she presses a kiss there. you let out a small, weeping sound as if her lips have enabled a release inside of you. in a way they have. you soften, melt into her and find the strength to touch her.

your hands grasp at mel’s neck and she hums in satisfaction, working her teeth into the meat of your neck like a vampire. she pulls back only to look down, freeing a hand from your waist to inch the hem of your dress up.

you moan brokenly as you grow more exposed, your cunt wet against the baby blue lace that holds it. the moonlight sneaks between the both of you and renders the fabric practically translucent, the blue so light in its glow that it seems closer to white.

“you’re so beautiful, baby,” mel whispers and you blink at her, your throat tight. “you always say it about me, and i never understand it. when i look at our pictures, i don’t see anyone else.”

your eyes slip low, going tender, and you cup her face.

“you’re perfect, mel.”

“i guess we’re a good match,” she murmurs and then she’s in you.

the motion is so smooth, so quick. you hadn’t realized she’d peeled the fabric of your panties back, pushed them to the side. you know nothing now except for the steady pump of her fingers. there are two working deep into the heart of you, searching and spreading your slick heat.

you cry out, eyes wide like a doe’s. mel only smiles, predatory and slow. her teeth gleam, two rows of perfect pearls. you feel out of your body, but she brings you back in with every stroke inside of you. her breathing is becoming heavy, labored. her eyes seem a little wild and the hand on your neck moves briefly to squeeze tightly at your waist until you let out a deep “unh.”

mel grins again at the sound and it makes you surge forward, crushing her mouth into a bruising kiss. you bite at her bottom lip until she opens and lets you in, your tongue lapping all over as if to consume her. she slips a third finger inside of you, curling at the walls of your cunt to make you clench down.

you continue to kiss her, tilting your head so that angle is better. you slot together perfectly and she moans into your mouth, increasing the speed of her thrusts. you break away from her and study her face, taking in the way her lip gloss is smeared wickedly around her mouth. her lips are swollen and dark and she takes one in between her teeth as she works deeper into you.

your head falls back and she returns her hand to the nape of your neck, catching you before you can hit the wall.

“you’re okay, mama,” she murmurs and you nod, eyes focused somewhere distant on the ceiling.

she knows how you get, how disassociative you can become when you’re overwhelmed with emotion. she watches as you go somewhere she’s unable to follow. your chest heaves with every exhale and she leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your tits, then another right in the middle of them. her mouth is dusted with glitter when she pulls away.

you fuck down on her hand, an animalistic moan crawling from somewhere deep in your chest. mel fucks you harder, grunting as she shifts you bodily up and down with the effort. you keen as she uses her thumb to rub your clit, the circles tight and concentrated. pleasure arcs white and hot up your spine and you close your eyes, mouth falling open silently.

“that’s it,” she says. “come on, baby. come on.”

“mel,” you gasp and she laughs lowly.

“what happened to melly?” she teases and you whine, a foot kicking out as she presses against your g-spot.

“melly, please,” you whisper. “fuck, please.”

“please what?”

"just please.”

nothing changes. she only watches you squirm and beg like a whore, her face impassive. it was moments like these where you were reminded of her mother. the thought sends another shot of arousal to your cunt and it drools down mel’s wrist, sticky and warm.

“mel, fuck. fuck, i can feel it. i’m almost—i’m right there. just please, baby.” you’re crying now, disoriented and breaking apart with every push of her fingers. “please. please, melly, please."

you drag your eyes from the ceiling to her face, your pupils dilated and bright like stars. her face suffers through a range of emotion before she curses and yanks her fingers out of you.

“no,” you sob, and she sushes you.

“just hang on a minute, mama. hold on,” she soothes, her hands coming to lift you from beneath your thighs.

mel moves quickly and you take comfort in the fact that she needs this as much as you do.

you find yourself draped over the couch, your stomach resting on the arm of the chair. there’s a slight application of pressure as mel forces you into an arch, your ass and cunt pushed up. she nudges your legs apart and then gets on her knees, her hands coming to rest on the back of your thighs as she leans in and puts her mouth on you.

“oh,” you moan and she hums into you.

she’s methodical and precise, her tongue slipping into the mix and filling you as best she can. her pace increases as she licks you front to back, twisting so she can suck and nip on your clit. you let out a high mewl as she grips the plush flesh of your ass, rocking you slowly until you’re able to continue the rhythm on your own.

the heat returns, spirals up from your stomach into your chest and throat. you whimper, letting your head fall forward and down. your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on riding her face, swiveling your hips in small circles to better grind your clit against her nose.

again you can feel it, that call to somewhere distant. mel feels the way you tighten around her tongue, the sudden stiffening of your thighs. she knows you’re just there, right at the golden gate of your private paradise so she removes her mouth and focuses completely on stimulating your clit with her fingers.

“mel,” you breathe. “melly—”

“i know, mama. you can do it. cum on my face. cum all over me, princess. mess me up, hmm?”

you reach down and she reaches up, instinctively understanding what you’re aching for. just as your fingers intertwine, you fall apart. your arch drops and mel hums, closing her eyes as you squirt over her. she can feel you trembling and she opens her mouth lazily, letting your cum drip into it as if it was some sort of sacred rain.

her fingers lace with yours properly now, no more tentative pinky holds. you grip back with the strength of a soldier at war, your eyes rolling shut as you hump against her face and ride out your high. mel only lets you use her, dragging her other hand down to grope at her throbbing pussy.

eventually, you settle and she tugs you down so that you’re sitting dazed and lax in her lap. her hands squeeze your ass as she noses at your cheek, slipping a light kiss onto your cheek.

"hey. hey, baby, look at me. are you with me?”

“ye—yeah,” you get out. “‘m with you.”

“let’s go upstairs," she says softly, and it's not quite a question. "unless—"

"yes," you interrupt, squeezing her hand. "yes."

mel makes no move to get up, however, and you watch her face.

“melly?”

"i need you to know," she says, a hand coming up to trace your jawline, "that whatever happens next… this isn't just because. this isn't just because we were dancing, or drinking, or—"

"i know," you whisper, even though you don't, not really. but you want to believe. god, how you want to believe.

mel shifts, tilts you so that you’re on your back. her braids have fallen from her signature bun, and they block out the little light spilling in from the window.

“baby, i want you. i love you, i need you, and i can’t—i can’t tell you enough how much i’ve wanted this. nothing matters to me more than you.”

“i know, melly. trust me, i understand.”

she shakes her head, opens her mouth. you lift a hand, dig your nails into the sides of her throat as you clutch at it for just one second.

“i understand.”

it feels like she’s been the only thing on your mind since the day you were born. you’ve been waiting for her ever since.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ wife tag: @s-4pphics

[chokarubi]

hcs: thinking about childhood friends -> teen love -> adult love -> marriage with Rindou

(note: the way that I started writing this and realize I have 0 ability to build up the relationship, this is why I like established relationship, they're already together and we don't need to go through the set up + also this is my version of Rindou and I think he is a tsundere who is secretly a loser loverboy on the inside for his girl, so he may be OOC but he's my babe and these are my hcs) posted: 10/18/24

meeting Rindou before he got sent to juvie

meeting Rindou when you were young, stumbling across him and Ran practicing fighting moves in the park

stopping to watch them spar, interested in the way that someone so young was fighting with such skill

Ran noticing you watching and telling Rindou that they had a fan watching them practice

introducing yourself to them once they catch you watching; going to a konbini afterwards for a snack

finding out that Rindou was the same age as you and that you went to the same school (never seeing him because he's been ditching class; finally finding out who the empty desk belongs to in your class)

exchanging numbers before you left for home, asking Rindou to hang out with you sometime

becoming fast friends since you were the only person who persistently hung around, not scared away by his gang activities and frequent fights

finding out that Rindou was in juvie and visiting him every week

Tenjiku Rindou

being outside the prison to welcome Rindou (and Ran) back once they got out of juvie

Ran secretly teasing Rindou about the fact that his wifey was waiting for him (Ran totally teased him when they were inside juvie as well, seeing as you visited as much as possible)

being by Rindou's side as the Haitani brothers reestablished their dominance over Roppongi (cheering them on by the sidelines)

Rindou being aware of his crush on you but not wanting to say anything, afraid of ruining your current relationship

seeing other guys hit on you and deciding that he was greedy and wanted you all to himself

confessing to you on one of your regular outings, secretly being over the moon when you accepted

walked around like a proud peacock for a while, hyped that you had accepted his affections

Rindou spinning up some mixtapes for you on his DJ equipment (burning it to a CD and shyly handing it over to you)

introducing you to the S-62 generation (I hc that they're all buds and hung out after getting out of juvie)

being devastated when he got arrested after Izana's death; staying by his side and waiting for him, but making sure he knew he'd better make it up to you when he gets out

Bonten Rindou

Rindou following through with his promise of making it up to you; proposing shortly after he got out of prison (where would he ever find a wifey like you again?)

Rindou being so grateful that you waited for him and loved him despite his flaws

Having a small intimate wedding, inviting the remaining members of S-62, celebrating your marriage and a reunion of the members

Rindou and Ran being approached by Kakucho, Kaku inviting them to join Bonten

Rindou being hesitant to join, having you and being a married man, not being sure of where life would take you two if he got involved in the criminal life again

Rindou talking it out with you and joining Bonten along with Ran (you threatened Ran to make sure Rindou would stay safe and that they wouldn't go to jail again)

the Bonten crime life both providing generously for your lifestyle, but taking quality time with Rindou away from you

Rindou opening the nightclub along with Ran and taking you there on the opening night, dedicating an entire private suite just for you, whenever you wanted to come

Rindou promising now that things were more established he'd be dedicating more time to you like you deserve

having the occasional Bonten x S-62 crossover hangouts, meeting up with Kakucho and Mochi for dinners

being content with your position as Rindou's wifey, seemingly set for a happy life with your crime husband

© property of chokarubi 2024. do not copy or translate any works to publish as your own it's mine!

[kaitoutrixie]

[feral-animal]

Intro post! (redone)

Plz read (will get updated almost regularly) :p

ᯓ★ 𝖭𝖺𝗆𝖾(𝗌) 𖦹🎧 ⋆ .

- Wolf

-

° ᡣ𐭩 .⭐ ° . 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗌 ✮°.𖦹

- wolf/wolfs/wolves

-

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁☆ 𝖲𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒𝗌 + 𝖫𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗌 ᡣ𐭩💻 . ° .

- Techsexual/Techromantic

- Pansexual

- Flagsexual/Flagromantic

- Objectum

-

ᯓ★🌐 𝖲𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗌 ⋆ ˚𖦹 ⋆

- @f3ral_animal on discord

- @Waggin_Tailz on Spacehey

- @feral-therian sideblog

- @lividly-undead sideblog

- @musik-iz-my-drug sideblog

-

⋆ °•. ⋆ 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗌 ᯓ★🐺 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

- Black wolf (therian) /mental identity (questioning physical)

- Zombie (otherkin) /mental identity

- Cat (otherhearted)

- Musickin (conceptkin) /physical identity

- lemon shark (therian) /mental identity

-

° ᡣ𐭩 💭 𝖰𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

- Pinkie pie

- Bunny

- Mouse

- Ant

- Seal

- Codekin

- computer virus kin

- Neko

- Dj Pon-3 / vinyl scratch

- Nyan cat

- Service dog / service animal

- Angel

- military k-9

- disco ball (Otherhearted most likley)

- program kin

- racoon

- spacekin / or galaxykin

- tiger

- lava lampkin

- fictionkin (the concept of fiction)

- dog

- peacock mantis shrimp

- shark

- Nepeta (Hs fictionkin)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁° ᡣ𐭩 𝖡𝖸𝖥 ‼ᯓ★

- I'm a very paranoid person in general so please don't take it personally if I block you.

- Do not randomly dm me. I will automatically block you if you dm with no warning. Ask to dm me beforehand.

- I am very cautious of undecorated blogs (ex: a blog with the default pfp and no posts) if I block you its because im just paranoid and I've had bad experiences with those types of blogs in the past.

- this is NOT a safe space for any nazi.

[captainmill]

I think if I were on Thousandaires, I would use my $1000 to throw a really extravagant tea party with at least 1 peacock.

I’m talking giant tray with like 4 tiers of treats, dresses with ruffles, top hats, “tea” but it’s coffee/soda/alcohol if people want, “dance cards” but it’s just a regular ass DJ, peacock.

[ofmdrecaps]

10/24-25/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Happy birthday Simon Nathan! David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Samba Schutte; Kristian Nairn; Minnie Driver; Boris McGiver; Anapela Polataivao; Lindsey Cantrell; Damien Gerard; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika.

Happy belated birthday to one of our darling writers-- Simone Nathan! Thank you to @ofmdframes for letting us know which Episodes and more about how she got us more Ed sketches! Yall are the best! (Simone's birthday was 10/24 which was originally when I planned no posting this, sorry for the delay!)

Source: Nathan Foad's IG

== David Jenkins ==

David's been sharing some lovely memes/work from our crew again <3

Source: David's Twitter

He also really got into responding to fans, and we ended up with some S3 and BTS commentary.

Source: HoneyBeesBoy Tweet / OrphanedNebula Reply / Skrifores Reply / Arcadia_Tweets Reply

== Surprise Rhys Darby ==

Rhys made a surprise comedy show visit in Toronto Ontario a few days back! Shocked, alarmed, and delighted fans who happened to be there!!

Source: James Roque Comedy

Also, while not related specifically to the last couple days, there were some absolutely lovely tweets from folks about Rhys and their interactions with him from cons that I thought would be nice to share!

Source: RebTamas Twitter

Our dear @appleteeth also decided to start collecting them! Thank you for capturing all these Liz!

Source: Liz / AppleTeeth's Twitter And another one in response to Liz's collecting!

Source: WInglyCoded Twitter

There was also a new 'That Christmas' Interview that was posted:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Riverside Radio | SW London Local Radio (@thisisriverside)

Source: ThisIsRiverside Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba was kind enough to share some adorable BTS with us on "how he was hired".

Source: Samba's Instagram Stories

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian will be joining another con at the beginning of the year-- on Jan 18-19 2025 he'll be in Dublin Ireland at Mega Con Live!

Source: MegaConLiveDublin

More Dj events! October 31, 2024 - John Coteau Cinema: Tickets

Source: Kristian's Instagram

== Minnie Driver ==

Supposedly Minnie is in this picture but all I see is beautiful fall leaves!

Source: Minnie's Instagram

== Boris McGiver ==

Another shot of our Father Bonnet in his new show Teacup available on Peacock!

Source: Mark Hill Photography Instagram

== Anapela Polataivao ==

Auntie's new film Tina has been getting so much praise from the trailer alone! They posted some clips from the film as well as how to pronounce the films name with Miki Magasiva as well if you're interested!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Polynesian Music Network+ (@polynesianmusic)

Source: Polynesian Music Instagram

== Lindsey Cantrell ==

Lindsey was working with Greeked Pictures a couple weeks back , and they're sharing some of her photos during post production.

Source: Lindsey Cantrell's Instagram

== Damien Gerard ==

A fan of the Call of Duty games made some fan-content and sent it his way and made his day <3

Source: Damien's Twitter

== OFMD Rewind ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew finished up the OFMD Rewind on the 24th with Episode 8! If you have access to twitter, please visit their twitter thread here! If you don't have access to twitter, you can see the thread on the OFMD Renewal Repo.

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Slowly catching up on Cast cards by the fabulous and kind @melvisik! First up today is Antoine Douaihy, one of our executive producers! Now-- I was getting confused on the different level producers so I figured I'd mention the difference here in case you were too! Executive Producers: "The executive producer sits at the top of the production hierarchy as it is their job to source and secure financing for production. Without them, a film or show could never be made as they are the ones who kickstart the project." - Toronto Film School

-- Line Producer --

Another producer is up, Susan Parker! One of our Line Producers for the show! " Line producers are at the heart of a production, hiring the crew, allocating the money and making sure the filming is done safely, creatively, on budget and on time. They are typically the most senior member of the production team, second only to the producers. Working closely with heads of departments, they decide how the money gets spent, delivering the best possible product to the producer or series producer while offering the director and heads of department enough money to realise the vision." - ScreenSkills

-- Makeup Artists --

Last but not least for the night is Devan Weitzman, another of our fabulous make-up artists!

Source: Melvisik's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! Gosh it's been a wild ride this fall (and spring for those of you on the opposite site of the world). I truly hope yall are getting some rest and re-cooperation time. There's been so much going on. This Love Note is very short-- because I'm overwhelmed at the moment. Please just remember that It's OK not to be OK, ya? Sit with your feelings sometimes and give them some love, sad feelings are part of you too, and the more we recognize them and give them love too, the more we heal. Take care Crew, this is a gentle reminder to be kind to yourself today <3

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== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

No theme today, just these goobers <3 Gifs courtesy of the darling @wastingyourgum and @eaion!