#its so embarrassing to not have any experience at 30......

[greeniegirl23]

Isn't It.. Lovely? (Chapter 3#)

One month.

You had one month to make the biggest decision you'd ever make in your life. Part of you wondered why you didn't tell Alastor to have a field day with your Father's corpse, until you remembered that the other part of you still loved and cared for him.

He was still your Dad and once upon a time he was a very good Dad. Your parents were practically a power couple when your Mom was alive, after her death, depression fell on him like a bag of bricks. Leading him to find feeling again in glasses of wine and bottles of hard liquor.

Everyday you pondered on this, wondering if something would finally push you over the edge. If you'd snap and take revenge for yourself.

You didn't like having those thoughts. Yes, the idea of liberty made you feel elated but at the cost of the last family member you had? It was conflicting to say the least.

All that worrying came to a halt once Alastor began to solidify his place in your life.

Every night at 9pm sharp, when you were dressed for bed and your despicable abuser was asleep. Alastor used his powers to turn your radio into your own personal hotline. He was ever so happy to hear from you, happiest when he saw nor heard any traces of harm inflicted on you that day.

He soon found out that you were a curious one and a terrible over-sharer. It was obvious you never really had friends before and if you did, they left you behind long ago. You were as innocent and pure as the driven snow. Always asking questions about him, about Hell, and what it was like back when he was on Earth.

You loved when he told you more about his life. It was like he was reading you your own personal bedtime stories. Tales of speakeasies and the depression, parties that lasted from dusk to dawn, and of course, all of the completely justified crimes he committed before his demise.

As payment for his stories, you told him about your own and caught him up on modern day issues. He seemed especially interested in World War I, disappointed that he died a few years shy of when it started. You told him about your health science classes, your school, and he even became a good study buddy to help you out with your tests.

“Alright darling, last question.” He stated, a drum roll playing in the background. “If your patient performs a forward lunge, which plane of the body are they moving in?”

You chewed on the end of your pencil. “..Coronal?”

A bell dinging made you smile. “Correct! Well done darling, but I'd like for you to work on your confidence when you answer. No one wants a doctor that's unsure of what they're doing.”

“Yeah..I just get so unsure sometimes. I think I'm more scared of being wrong than being right.”

He chuckled. “Do not fret my dear! I've been doing these little pop quizzes with you long enough to know you have a sharp mind. Confidence is a tool that will solidify your place in the career you plan to pursue, so don't be afraid to utilize it more.” His voice was so kind and mentoirish. It felt like he was giving you life lessons almost every time he talked.

On one hand that made you embarrassed. Like these were things you should have already known but you didn't, but you decided to give yourself some grace. Life was different for you than everyone else, so obviously there would be some things you didn't experience to gain knowledge from.

You placed your pencil down and sat cross legged in your chair. Not being the type of person who could sit still, nor do things normally. “Is that how you become a radio host? Because you were super confident?”

There was a pause. “Well, it was something that helped. Being a professional at what I do required more than just believing in myself. Most people think it's easy, but it has its challenges. For example, I used to rehearse my script in the mirror to stop myself from unconsciously going ‘umm’ every 10-30 seconds. It also aided in preventing myself from fumbling my words.”

“That sounds like solid advice.” You smiled. “I should start keeping a journal when you're around and call it ‘Life Lessons As Taught By The Radio Demon.’”

A loud cackling broke out over the radio. “Ah, so the girl does have a sense of humor. A good one at that!” He said proudly. “And here I thought you were all doom and gloom.”

“Hey! I'll have you know staying positive at all times can be very exhausting.” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips in a pouty attitude. “It's really hard to smile when it feels like the world is against you...”

There was a stagnant silence in the air as you turned your head to gaze out the window, watching the rain drizzle from the grey sky. It was your favorite weather, even more so because of the friend it allowed you to find.

Alastor pondered over your words before he took a deep breath. “That leads to a question that I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. It's a rather sensitive one so if you'd prefer not to answer, I would understand.”

Giving the plushie your attention, Alastor's tone turned concerned as he asked. “I can’t help but wonder, Darling, where is your mother..?”

Without missing a beat, you replied. “Oh, my Dad murdered her.”

A sharp microphone screech omitted from the radio. It was safe to say he most definitely was not expecting that..

Not because he can't see your degenerate of a guardian doing something of the sort, he was actually more curious as to how someone as sloppy as your Dad could get away with something like that. No. What got him was even though you were saying words that no child should ever say until they're well into adulthood, you smiled. A soft one, filled with unspeakable pain and a lust for something you could not yet gain.

You could feel him hesitating to ask you some more questions on the topic, so you decided that you could quickly give him your life story. “Whenever anyone asks about it, I always tell them that she passed from cancer but, that's not true..”

Alastor’s signal chirped in curiosity, but he made sure to sound sympathetic. “What happened?..”

You chuckled a bitter melody.

“She was born a diabetic and I was around twelve.. Everyday my Mom took her medicine, the diabetes is actually what led her to becoming a doctor in the first place. Every morning my Dad would make her coffee, as a way of telling her he loved her. I snuck a few sips before only to find out she made it black, when she caught me she told me “Mommy can't have sugar…”

When I turned fourteen, they started arguing. A lot. I can remember hearing them sometimes. Mom threatened to leave him because he was starting to grow a gambling issue and she was tired of taking the brunt of most of the bills. He promised to change and that's when everything started to go downhill.. Weeks went by, she just started getting sicker and sicker seemingly out of nowhere. Still had her morning coffee though. I'd make it for her sometimes and she reminded me “Mommy can't have sugar.” Hardly able to do anything for herself, much less take her medicine. Of course he said he'd do it, he promised me he did when he took me to school..He still made her coffee, before he went to work and after she had been made bed bound..I thought it was a lie, that it wasn't true until I realized that she died that morning with a cup of coffee in her hand..”

A sour laugh left your lips, as you recalled that day you came home from school and found her lying there with blood on the pillow, blood that she had been coughing up for almost a month.

“That bastard was poisoning her with fucking sugar… Everyday he was putting a little bit in her morning coffee and not giving her the insulin she needed. She was a Type 1 diabetic and he did all of it for some fuckin insurance money..” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Before yanking it in frustration and punching your fist through the nearest wall, your face was blank and unmoving for a second not even flinching as you removed your bruised fist from the drywall. “Mama couldn't have sugar..”

Alastor listened as you explained your mother's demise. His distaste for your father grew more and more as he recalled memories of his own childhood. He'd never tell you to your face, but he could see parts of himself in you from his younger years, if lead in the proper manner, you could become quite the promising killer.

He shook his head. Not the best thoughts to be having right now, not while you're on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“I..Would be lying to you if I said I knew what to tell you about such an awful situation..” He stated hesitantly. “But I can say that I am sorry, that you had to deal with something like this so early in life.”

“Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be done about it…She's gone now and I have to get away from him.” You declared, looking at your now bruised hand. “Now you understand why I made that wish. On any day, at any time, for any reason, that man could decide to kill me. To kill his own daughter in cold blood..”

Alastor hummed. “If you know this, then let me help you." He demanded. "I cannot sit idly by forever my dear, these links to your world are only good for short times to prevent other demons from causing other problems. No one understands the severity of this situation more than you. I would love to help you exact revenge on that putrid sack of skin but you must choose before it is too late and I am no longer around..

You sat in silence as Alastor did his best to help you come to a decision. As much as you hated being rushed, you couldn't deny that he was correct. But the decision was hard, harder than you thought it would be considering the fact that you still loved your father and the man he used to be…

All these thoughts ran through your head on a daily basis, everytime they made you wanna curl up and cry. Snatching up the plush doll, you gave it a good squeeze and hid your face in your knees, wishing that your Mom was still around.

The Radio Demon pursed his lips in thought, he wasn't good with others emotions unless he could feed off of the entertainment from it, much less comforting them. There was nothing entertaining about this, about you being sad. He didn't like it for a reason he couldn't explain, perhaps because you were so bubbly in the beginning?

You weren't trying to do anything miraculous, you just wanted to live your life in peace and possibly get justice for your mother. That was something he could understand. He wouldn't mind completely decimating your Dad, truly he wouldn't! It'd be on the house for you, truly you're the most pitiful soul he's come across in a long while.

He supposed he could pull a few quick strings to make you feel better in the moment. To bring back that smile of yours, full of wonder and a desire for life.

As you continued to seek shelter in your knees, you felt a gentle touch caress the top of your head, sharp claws softly scraping your scalp in an attempt to comfort you.

Wait..

WHAT?!

Quickly yet carefully, you snapped your head up to see none other than The Radio Demon crouched down right in front of you. His hand still rested on the crown of the head as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I'm sorry.. am I dreaming?” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled, laughing in a low tone at your completely gobsmacked expression. “Fortunately for you, the answer is no my dear. As a gentleman, it'd be rude of me not to at least attempt to help a lady in emotional distress.”

You were still dazed and confused about him being here, much less t o u c h i n g you!! “Ida..I-- I didn't know you could-”

“Travel through the radio? It is quite possible but I only do so on rare occasions since it requires a fair bit of my power that cannot be overexerted in one day.”

Standing up to his full height, you realized how tall he was and thanked God that the ceiling was high enough for his antlers not to scrape. Crawling out of your chair, you immediately felt like an ant compared to him, the top of your head barely came to his collarbone.

“Holy crap you're tall." You blurted again. "I mean, I knew that you were tall but, you're really, really tall..”

Smirking with pride, he twirled his cane expertly like the show off you knew and loved. “7”0 exactly my dear, a foot taller than I was when I was a mortal! Though I suppose that was the universes funny way of punishing me for my crimes, I've bumped my forehead on door frames a good 50 times in both life and death!”

As you examined his real life appearance, you couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah well, the heels don't help.” You pointed to his shoes.

He huffed in feigned offense. “They are not heels, darling they are tap dancing shoes and it was quite common for them to have a bit of height back in my day.”

“Okay, Fred Astare.” You snorted as he settled himself on the side of your bed as you marveled at the fact that he was still taller than you even while sitting down. “And here I was preparing to offer you a dance in hopes of lifting your spirits, only for you to insult my tastes in fashion.” He hmphed, crossing his arms and legs while sticking up his pointy nose towards you.

In a daring moment, you sat right next to him crissed crossed, careful not to to touch him while he continued to play offended. “C’mon Al, don't be so huffy. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“ ‘Al’ huh?” He hummed. “Sounds like someone is getting rather familiar.”

“Hey, you call me 'Darling' and 'Dear' so often I think that it's only fair that I call you 'Al' on occasions.”

“I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, I came here to try and boost your spirits, you seem to be doing better so if you wish to be bratty I can just go back home..” He teased with an evil grin.

“Wait!” You said just a bit too loudly. “Would you like to play a game with me? Ya know, before you go..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he parted his lips to deny your offer, until you pulled out the big guns and gave him your best puppy girl eyes. A chill went down his spine from your usage of such cheap tactics, remembering his years as a lad and doing the exact same thing when he wanted something desperately from his dear mother.

“Okay! Okay!” He said, placing his hands up in surrender. “I shall subject myself to whatever game this is for one round, as long as you stop making that revolting expression..”

He watched as you smiled with pure enthusiasm. Such a beautiful smile you had, it made him irritated that you didn't do it more, yet proud that he typically was the source of it sprouting in the first place. Crimson eyes followed your movements as you shuffled off the bed to grab a small deck of cards off of your shelf. A part of him hoped you heard the chuckle that left his lips while you struggled to stand on your toes to retrieve this game.

“It's called ‘Uno’ “ You explained, walking back to him with a red box in hand. “It's a pretty simple game and the rules are easy.” Dumping the cards out of the box, the two of you sat parallel with one another.

”However, this simple game has been known to end more friendships than Monopoly and Mario Kart put together. It shall truly test our bond as companions, only the strongest survive it's trials..” You spoke in a dramatic tone while shuffling the cards and placing the proper numbers out for the both of you. Once you were finished, you placed the extra cards in the middle and looked the Radio Demon square in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Yes yes,” He replied aloofly. “There isn't any possible way this silly game could cause such a staggering amount of broken relationships. I refuse to believe it's that bad.’

You chuckled bitterly. “You beautiful unsuspecting fool.”

---------------------- ( 2 Hours Later) ---------------------

“That's against the rules!” Alastor hissed underneath his breath as you threw out a fat stack of +2 cards.

“No it's not Alastor, you said you wanted to play stacks and this is how it's played.” You muttered.

The first round between you two consisted of showing Alastor the ropes. The confident man he was, he assured you that the game was easy enough for an infant to play and win effortlessly, especially since he won the first round. You then decide to spice things up by teaching him how to play stacks. He claimed that was easy as well and you allowed him to believe this as the next round consisted of him losing, and so did the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that…

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by and Alastor was determined to beat you at least once. It had gotten so intense that he resorted to taking his tail coat off and even putting his hair up, leaving him in his tight red office shirt and hair that framed his face like the scrumdiddlyumptious being that he was. The sight of his bare arms totally didn't have you blushing up a storm behind your cards.

While he was stewing over his next move, you got to confirm a few fan theories and ogled at his appearance.

Respectfully, of course.

But, the game wasn't over yet. Alastor sat across from you, irritated and with at least eleven cards in his hand, while you had three. The air was tense as he scratched his head and finally decided to throw out a small handful of 8’s, bringing his card count down to five.

Your poker face remained unmoving as you calmly threw out a wild card. “Blue.”

A warble of interference omitted from Alastor's person as his eyes scanned his cards carefully. You were actually surprised at how the tables had turned personality wise. In the beginning, it was Alastor who was calm and collected, but every loss slowly chipped away at the pride that fueled his unwavering persona. His usual smile was now looking more forced, making his disdain obvious.

Throwing out a blue card, you threw out two on top, leaving you with one card as you stated that dreadful word. “Uno.”

With a growl, Alastor tossed out a draw +4. “Red.” He stated blandly. A quick glance at the clock let him know he was late for a meeting with Charlie, but formalities be damned because he was going to win this game.

You took your cards quickly and deemed your hand an amazing one. He replied by tossing out a 2 and leaving three cards left. Victory was close and he swore that once he won he would ‘kindly’ rub it in your face.

But, just as you had been doing for these past five rounds, you had an ace up your sleeve. You tossed out the red ‘Skip’ card, costing Alastor a vital turn that could have turned the tables, only to metaphorically slap him in the face by cheering “Uno!” and dropping your final cards in the middle of the messy deck.

He suppressed a scream of irritation as you did your little victory dance, glaring at you both with gaiety and pure spite. He stood up and snapped his coat back on and his hair back down, he pinched your cheek just a little too hard. “That's enough cutting a rug darling, especially for someone that has two left feet such as yourself.”

“Stop trying to cease my dancing, I must wiggle out my joy.”

With a roll of his eyes, he tuned the radio on to his station to prepare to go back home. “Well you can dance until your heart's content, unfortunately I have to return back home to handle some business.”

Immediately your uncoordinated movements stopped, as you frowned. “Oh, right..”

Part of him felt bad. Not that he would tell you outright, but he didn't exactly want to leave you behind either. The thoughts of what your father could do unannounced made him concerned for your safety, but there wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he smiled genuinely and lifted your gaze up with his finger.

“Chin up, dearest. I shall check on you tomorrow as always and don't forget, you still need to make up your mind about what you want from the options presented to you.”

You didn't reply verbally, but you did nod your head sadly which would have to be enough for now. As he prepared to walk off, he was suddenly stopped by a tight embrace from behind. Anyone else who would have ever dared to think of such a thing would have been a splatter on the wall and he was just about to give you a kind yet serious talk about personal space until he felt something wet soaking through his clothes.

“..Thank you.” You mumbled through the fabric. Inhaling his scent as you sniffled and tried to calm down, honestly you were surprised he didn't push you off.

As mentioned before, emotions were not Alastor's think nor was physical affection. However in this moment, with you crying lightly and hugging him as if he were your only hope of survival, he decided that maybe, just this once, he would let it slide.

For his comfort, you didn't allow the hug to last longer than a minute. Once you pulled away you were embarrassed to say the least and prepared for him to possibly scold or never talk to you again. But, to your surprise, he simply pat your head and whispered, “Sleep tight, cher.”and was gone with a blink of your eyes.

To say you were sad was an understatement, but you knew that he'd be back tomorrow like he was everyday. The idea of talking to him tomorrow. To hear his voice in real time, talking to you and to offer comfort because he actually cared made your heart pound in your chest. As much as you didn't want to think this way, you couldn't help it. He seemed so concerned about you, in a way that no one else has until now.

You did your best to still your beating heart as you began to clean up your fun from earlier, only to find your cards were missing. You looked everywhere and still couldn't find them, ultimately you claimed into bed and decided that maybe Alastor snapped them somewhere you'd never find so that he wouldn't have to loose, I mean, play anymore.

Meanwhile…

“Alastor you're late!” Vaggie snapped as he came waltzing down the stairs, following her to where the rest of the group sat waiting.

“I am aware Vagatha, I was busy doing something else.” He replied calmly, only to make the fallen angel more irritated. “Whatever, I hope you brought something because it's your turn for a group activity today..”

“But of course! How could I forget?” He smiled impishly, before pulling out a red box with a familiar word on it. Once with the rest of the residents, Alastor clapped his hands together and pulled out a chalkboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“For today's activity being hosted by yours truly, we shall all be playing a game suited for bonding and the strengthening of relationships,” He beamed, writing out the title of the game in big letters for everyone to see.

“The name of the game is...UNO!"

------------------------------------------------------------

(Thank you for coming back for Chapter 3# of this story! I hope you stick around for the next one because I plan to make it the last. I've been so busy with life and stuff, it's kinda hard to find time or motivation to write, but I do want this to come to a close while still making room for a bit of fun between Al and the Reader.

For those who asked me to make a tag list, I'm not entirely sure how to 😅. Though I will try to figure it out for the next time I write a short story. Don't forget to leave your opinions behind in the comments and thank you for all the love you guys give me, it means a lot 💜

Stay Tuned! :D

Taglist: @twistedvanillacoffee @diffidentphantom @boldlyenchantingfox22

[skunkes]

is anybody sooo stressed out

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[nanamimizz]

please higuruma is so sexy, i think of sitting on his face daily. like you said he doesn't mind the mess, he loves it. he finds out you've got a bush and its literally the happiest day of his life, he wants to make it so wet with his spit and your cum. i need him so bad

tags: 18 + minors dni, fem reader, fem receiving oral, overstimulation, dacryphilia, face sitting, hiromi dunks on americans lmao, reader is a referred to as a “real woman” please avoid is that could cause you to experience discomfort <3

@prettyboykatsuki you asked to be tagged lmao

synopsis: higuruma hungers and aches, surely you aren’t one to deny him?

Higurumi Hiromi blames it on going off the rails in his 30s but he doesn't think he can find it within himself to be ashamed whenever he asks you to sit on his face. The nerves that show on your face as clear as day, how you shuffle from foot to foot as you ask multiple times if he is okay with it as if he isn’t almost drooling at the thought of you letting him in between your soft thighs. He doesn’t even ask you to let him go down on you - he just points to his chin and tells you to hop on.

“Your throne awaits.”

You are so caught up in rolling your eyes at his cheesiness you don’t notice that he has you tugged over him, knees to his shoulders, and your skirt-covered cunt hovering over him. Any humor in your eyes is hazed over and you can only look into his eyes - like coals ablaze as he presses a kiss to your innermost thigh; a rasp of teeth and a swipe of tongue and you whimper. Your cunt grows hot and damp, you almost feel embarrassed at how this man can command your body with the simplest of gestures.

“Are you sure I didn’t sha-”

“I’m not like those soft-hearted Americans. I like it when you don’t, it makes me feel like I’m pleasuring a real woman, not some weird fantasy.” His breath fans over the gusset of your panties and you try not to flinch when a kiss is pressed against dead on the bump of your clit. With each bated breath, a pressing of his lips is earned and it almost brings you shame how easily you start to tremble above, gasping when he lets his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your thigh as long fingers pull the damp fabric of your underwear to the side.

Hiromi moans - deep, throaty, and loud when he sees your bare cunt: the scent of your sex passes his nose, and the curls of your pubic hair shine from the slick you drip out. You are given no warning when the sorcerer pulls you down to his face and you are helpless to only gasp the first character of his name as he lets his nose slot neatly against the pearl of your clip, tongue finding its way to swipe at your lower lips. You are even more helpless to how his tongue breaches your silken heat and you feel yourself being drunk.

“Hiromi!” it’s a thin high squeal and he moans from his place in between your thighs. How sweet you are on his tongue and how sweet is your voice, pitching from pleasure to his ears. Hiromi is more than fine to die here - he wraps his lips around the throbbing pearl of your clit and sucks.

The dripping turns to a stream, he moans reverently at the tang of your cunt. Your hips are still, helpless at the onslaught of pleasure he gives you as you are sure you will have bruises in the shape of Hiromi’s fingertips on whichever inch of skin he deems doomed to be grabbed by him. Hiromi parts with one last rumbling groan - deep from his chest and pulls with his thumbs parting the folds of your lower lips to expose your too hot cunt to the too cold air.

“Look at you - pretty little thing.” You don’t know if the words are meant for you or for your cunt and you whine weakly at the embarrassment that floods you from your cheeks to your chest. If your gaze wasn’t so blurry from almost boiling tears you’d see the mess you made of the black haired man - spit bubbles at the corner of his lip as thin streams of your slick leak down his chin to his neck, finally reaching the collar of his shirt.

You’ve ruined his clothing - you dirty, beautiful girl.

“Mine, my precious cunt to ruin.” He mutters, eyes like thin slits and you squeal when the flat of a pink tongue swipes at your sensitive clit. Everything shudders at the light motion and it grows to tremors when his dark eyes glimmer in the low light of your room that spins as you are tugged forward on his face. Now Hiromi’s nose is pressed against the bump of your clit and his tongue is insistent on reaching as deep as it can inside of you. The sounds you make are thin and high - just as pathetic as the way you cum all over his nose and cheeks, the molten band in your stomach snapping at last.

His name is rushed, you almost trip over the syllables as your mind blanks into the sea of white hot pleasure - you had almost drowned once as a child and now you drown again only this time in different, deeper waters. You can’t believe your back hasn’t broken by how deeply it arches into a bow as you cream down the sides of Hiromi’s handsome face, adding to the mess of drool and slickness that now freely falls to the pillow he rests on.

“A-ah! Oh god!” you sob into the heated air of the room and Hiromi pulls you off, strings connecting his mouth to your lower half you observe with hot embarrassment. You tremble in his hold and dark eyes take in the haze of your gaze, he licks the tacky wetness of your cum from his upper lip.

“Giving you 5 - I’m still hungry.” he rumbles from beneath you at the wetness that clung at the seam of your cunt and the cleft of your ass chills as you weakly cry out at the idea of more.

[darlingdreadwrites]

This Halloween is Crazy

THIS IS A SECOND PART OF AN AU. IF THIS IS THE FIRST POST YOU SEE, I SUGGEST YOU CLICK ON THIS (“MAIN STORY”) TO READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS AU!!

pairing: BEN x GN!Reader

summary: After arriving at Mr. Mann’s Manor of Frights, you decide to go to the arcade.

contains: arcade stuff, mini date

warnings: reader gets kinda hurt, I don’t know how to describe games right

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

a.n: this is not a Benjaman Lawman fanfic, I am writing for the AI BEN. I use the ben drowned tags for exposure.

“I want to go to the arcade,” you say excitedly. You’ve heard and seen how huge this place was, you can’t even begin to imagine having an arcade in your house. Your friends nod and tell you that they’ll be heading to the haunted experiences.

Something in the air feels electric as you pass through the crowds of people and scare-actors. As you approach the entrance to the arcade, the environment is livelier and more upbeat than the rest of the manor. The contrast was a little funny. At the other end of that hallway, you just came from, they put so much effort into making the place look so spine-chilling. Here, in the entrance of the arcade, there were a few bat and spider-shaped wall decals. The lighthearted atmosphere drew you in, and you were excited to spend most of your time there.

A foldable table, draped with an eye-catching orange tablecloth with print of back pumpkins, sits beside the entrance. The table has a short line in front, where two guys were trading coins for tickets. They both seemed to be dressed like Link from the Legend of Zelda games – though the taller one had a lazier execution than the other. But your face would meet the floor before you even got in.

You barely registered that a fake skeleton had tumbled from its perch and crashed down directly on top of you. Your reflexes worked faster than your brain did, and you used your hands to stop you from fully faceplanting. The sound of plastic bones rattling and the startled gasps of nearby guests have you begging for any higher power to help you melt into the carpet. As the embarrassment washes over you, someone pushes the skeleton off you and grabs your arm.

“Hey, you okay?” You look up to see that the taller employee was now helping you up.

You try to look grateful, and not as if you want to die as he places his hands on your shoulders and inspects you. His blue eyes roam over you, blonde brows pinching together in concern. You blink, realizing that he was expecting you to reply.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, dropping his hands from your shoulder to run one through his hair, stopping at his neck. “How bad of a lawsuit is this gonna be?”

You can tell that he’s joking from the flicker of humor dancing in his eyes.

“Just 30 billion dollars,” you say as seriously as you can muster, and his features twitch into a look of shock. When you laugh, he seemed to relax into a laugh of his own.

He scratches at the back of his neck as a thought passed through his head. Neither of you notice as the teenager who was helping hand out coins strolls over. The blonde man before you seems to only be focused on you - somehow managing to hold eye contact even when his cheeks are turning a light pink.

“Uh, so,” he starts, trying to sound casual as he clears his throat. “Okay, how about I just let you go into the arcade. For free.”

As he flashes you a hopeful smile, his counterpart crosses his arms.

He scoffs, raising an eyebrow and casting an unimpressed scowl. “Dude, you can’t just give her free –“

“Shhh, don’t mess this up for me, man,” he says as he interrupts the boy with a hand almost bumping into his nose, and the man’s eyes are still locked on you. He’s unbothered by the protest, being entirely captivated by you. “I’ll let you play whatever, I promise.”

“Sure,” you giggle, taken aback by the unexpected attention that sparks excitement in you.

“Great,” he breaks out into a grin, his nerves softening. “I’m Ben, by the way.”

“I’m Benji –“

“This isn’t about you,” Ben interrupts him again and grabs your hand.

As Ben walks you over to the entrance of the arcade, he has the biggest smile on his face. He grabs a big bag of coins, and they clink from how quickly he picks it up. Benji continues to argue something behind you two about “rules” and “not wanting to be the only one working.” Ben waves him off as he barely glances back, and his hand feels warm in yours.

The neon blues and greens from the arcade lights draw you in, and the room looks like it’s pulsing. The beeps and electronic music mix with the energetic excitement of the people around. The room had a mix of every era of arcade games – from flat screened racing games to the nostalgic pixelated classics and their chunky buttons. Ben holds up the bag of coins with a victorious look, and the air suddenly feels a competitive shift.

“It’s free reign, dude,” he says as he places a couple coins in the palm of your hand. “I’m warning you though. I’m kind of a pro.”

“Really?” You give him a skeptical look, pocketing the coins.

“Yes, really,” he sounds too smug for your liking, and you make a very determined goal to wipe the floor with that egotistical little smirk of his. “You pick first.”

You suppress an eyeroll and scan the area. Maybe if you picked air hockey, you could use it as an excuse to throw projectiles at him. But, no, you wanted to be nice to the person that let you in for free. Even if you think he wouldn’t mind having a black eye from the puck. Your eyes land on an old-school shooting game and you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie in that direction. He looks down at your hand for a moment, his eyes lighting up, and he follows you without a word.

You slip a few coins into the machine and pick up a neon orange gun and try out a few test shots. As the game begins, you slip into zombie-fighting mode. Your heart races as you take aim and fire at the targets, keeping your pace as the images flash on screen. You steal a quick glance in his direction, and the intense look of determination on his face has you taken aback. Snapping your attention back onto the screen, you realize that no amount of skill you possess could beat the way he seems to effortlessly rack up points. It was kind of hot. But you were too competitive to let him win all night.

Despite all your efforts, the screen flashes your score to be respectably high, but much lower than Ben’s. He places the gun down with a confident ease and turns to you.

“Not bad,” he drawls.

“Oh, we’re not done,” you chuckle dryly, and he smirks. You want to keep up the act of being annoyed, but it’s impossible not to smile when he offers his hand for a high five and looks at you like an excited puppy.

“Didn’t think so.”

After a few rounds of different games around the arcade, you can’t tell if he’s going easy on you. Sometimes you win, sometimes he does easily. But each game is filled with laughter and light jabs, making the losses seem insignificant. One thing you’re certain of, though: the times he loses or even falters, it’s because he was sneaking glances at you. You’d call him out on it if you weren’t doing the same thing. Finally, he stops in front of a two-player fighting game.

“This one’s my favorite,” he gives the side of the arcade machine two loving pats.

You each choose your character, and the game begins. As your fingers hover over the buttons, you brace yourself for the most fast-paced game you’ve ever played. This being Ben’s favorite game told you that it would be nearly impossible to win. And you were right, for the most part. You basically had to abuse the poor buttons to keep up with the heavy blows he dealt with you. Even then, you were somehow keeping up with him, pulling off moves you didn’t even know you could do.

But since it was Ben’s favorite game, he figured he could slack off a little to watch you. He had played this game for hours, even forcing his siblings to play with him. His name had been on the score board for years. But he was too confident, it seemed. Because every few seconds, he would glance in your direction, barely paying attention to the game. Looking at you made his heart feel like it was fluttering. The way the screen illuminated your features, the concentrated furrow in your forehead, and the way your tongue poked out from between your pretty lips captivated him.

“K.O.,” the machine announced.

What? Ben shakes his head as he looks back at the screen. He watches the way your character shifts back and forth in that idle animation, while his fighter lies defeated on the floor. You let out a little cheer, half in disbelief.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, his jaw dropping a slightly. He couldn’t even be a little upset. Not when you were smiling at him like that. “C’mon, I wasn’t even trying.”

“We can do another round,” you offer playfully, shrugging like you were sure you could easily do it again. “I think I can kick your ass again.”

“If you win again,” he starts, pressing on a red button for a rematch. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

And, with that, the two of you ended up playing almost the entire night.

[foulfeast]

Deeply embarrassed to ask this, but I looked away about a month back and clearly missed something important; who is Pluto?

OH GOSH DONT WORRY! :] i havent added any info on them yet in my pinned either, i really need to. I actually just explained this to a friend on discord so ill just copy it w some small corrections. Heres the babygirl themself:

Tjey are a sorcerer in a world where like... magic is more treated as a science, just one that has for years been near impossible to control, replicate etc- incredibly unpredictable and ENDLESSLY complex. IT IS a collection of different energies that we dont have in our world, comparable to things like gravity, electricity, magnetism... idk what yet but i am working on it 🫡 ive been putting a bunch of finnshit in there so i think smth will at least be based on singing spells, so maybe some kind of a force similiar to vibrational energy? Vibration is smth that exists but a form of it that can change the physical aspects of smth or call to the physical elements/nature of smth- singing the ground into a swamp etc

And there is like a lot of lore starting to form about differemt eras of how people approached it - in short Pluto "grew up" on a version where people made an attempt to control it. They slid into a more modern thinking of "moving with it, communicating with it"- however, that is a bit surface level, and they still in actions do seek to control it.

They live in an old church like building- basically an old hospital, now a "town witches" home. Old people still come by to get help with things - so do some younger people who have exhausted other routes

(To be clear- it doesnt always work. Because of the whole unpredictability thing.)

However like... the last 30 yesrs people have moved more towards "modern scientific diciplines" like electricity, whixh is far easier to control

Magic is more powerful but only when successful

Modern sciences and old ones are NOT COMPLETELY SEPERATE! Magic could be ccompared to just electricity, igs just an exra energy in this world (there are different forms of it)

Like medicine & chemistry is closer to old sciences than the use of electricity

Pluto is a smooth charming motherfucker. Huge control freak and saviour complex, but they hide it well. Genuinely well meaning!!! A good person but deeply needy and it makes them capable of causing damage.

This is a lot of... me looking at nostalgia and how things were never fairytales, but there was still a sense of fancy to things when i was a kid - and in recent years it has made somewhat of a return, but i sometimes worry that that kind of nostalgia and openness can also be a way to regress. And then looping back to - how its also important to understand and parse past in a way that helps us learn from it, and take the good parts while mutilating the bad parts into a better shape, no matter how it hurts.

It is about time but "My Moon", a character whose design i need to fuck around with also brings an element of toxic codependency, where Pluto gets to act their chivalrous games and know things and guide someone and My Moon gets to stop growing and developing on their own as they get to always be saved.

So i guess thats still about time... two people who the time will pass by

Not as like, h8ing on tradition, on god, im someone who loves history and seeking answers in it. But like as an exploration of some of my experiences w wanting to regress to this state of helplessness and certainty of what has already passed. Maybe makes no sense :] ill work on explaining it better.

Allthough I wil say,if i ever do some full project w pluto, it will be more wholesome, at least on surface! There is a lot of love in their life.

[bunnihearted]

☁️🐇💭

i dont know it all makes me feel so not human, like im missing out on a big human experience. everyone around me has a partner or have had one/multiple. even my old friend a, who i recently messaged a bit with.. even he has a bf. an all of my old friends have currently a partner, and my old classmates have partners and i dont know i just really wonder whats so wrong with my and why im not allowed to be a part of humanity. i know im extremely ugly and have an unappeaking body and on top of that an atrocious personality but like....... so do other ppl. a few of my old friends are bullies and theyre ugly as i am but they're still married and live with their boyfriends... what is so incredibly different with me, why dont i get go partake in humanity???? im like 35 fkn yrs old and never. never. i lack smth so major about being a humanbeing. recently i read a romance book abt two ppl in their 30s who were virgins and fell in love, but like even they had experienced kissing. which i havent. not even a peck. ive never been flirted with never been asked on a date never ever. and i also feel like im quickly getting older and it gets more and more embarrassing bc society ARE judgemental. am i gonna date someone for the first time when im 33yrs old and be like yeah sorry im 33 but ive never even kissed bro im terrible and useless with all of that. no fucking adult is gonna wanna "teach" or have patience with a 33yr old partner who dont know anything about any of that like be for real. i cant hide it either bc they will tell when i dont even know how to kiss. this is if i even ever get to be in a romantic/sexual situation lol.

and like no it isnt normal. most ppl, like the fucking majority, like at least 8/10 ppl have had SOME sexual experience, even if its just kissing. i have zero. like i dont even have experience in flirting. "its ok its normal" no it isnt, its fucking sad and pathetic and humiliating and sets me apart from the rest of humanity, the rest of the world. im 25 and it means im undesirable and unwanted. "u dont have to be in a relationship to be whole" but i WANT to. i used to just want friends, i was fine for somany years with being alone and just wishing to meet friends. but not anymore, it doesnt do anything for me anymore. if anything it only emphasizes my loneliness, bc my so called friends will spend a couple of hours hanging out with me, then they will go home to their partner, they person they have chosen and been chosen by, and i will go home to an empty apartment and be all alone. i dont really care for friendships anymore, i used to see it as a soothing balm to the wound, maybe not the proper treatment for it, but at least it could work as a bandaid. but now it just reminds me of how fucking unwanted i am. sure they might want to have some sort of semi closeness with me, but a mere friendship doesnt allow the closeness and intimacy i need and want. i will never be number 1, the first priority, the one and only, the one they'd do anything for, the one they wanna know better than everyone else, the one they want to spend alltheir time with, the one they're crazy about, to just a friend. it only reminds me that im never good enough or special or important enough to be chosen.

so i just dont care for friendships, they make me hollow and empty and make me feel lonely. because i wanna be so so close to someone. where we almost blend together. you dont do that with friends. u dont have sex and let eo see eachother completely naked - metaphorically - and vulnerable. u dont stay completely loyal and prioritize your friends. i want one person to pour everything into, share everything with. im tired and i dont care about spreading some shards, some splinters of me around widespread. and with how my brain works, how fucking disordered it is, i dont even have the energy to entertain and maintain several different friendships, none of them as deep and profound as i crave. i dont have that in me. i need one person to give it all to. i dont have the energy for more than that, it just doesnt work for me. i dont know. i used to think i wanted friends, and maybe i will get to a place again where i will be able to. maybe. idk anything. but really i cant see how i'd be able to have the energy to give a little bit of me to multiple people. that only makes me feel empty and lonely. i want smth with one person withno barriers between us. idc for anything else anymore i just dont. and thats why i feel so fucking lonely because im dying of thirst and everything that isnt what i want feels like nothing but drops of acid making me slowly fkn die lol

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

explaining my selective situational mutism

disclaimer - I'm not a professional, this is not how everyone's mutism works, this is just to explain my own experiences

for me, there are layers and also exceptions. there are people I can talk to most of the time, there are people I can't talk to even when I'm calm. it mostly breaks down into five categories

1. trust. if I trust you, I can talk to you most times. in a full shutdown, i can't talk to anybody no matter how hard I try unless the consequences of not talking are scarier than whatever I'm upset about (i.e. I'm the only one who caught the nurse about to give me something I'm allergic to on accident). if I don't trust you, my level of calm has nothing to do with me not talking to you.

2. energy levels. it is extremely exhausting to talk, especially to talk loud enough to be heard by most. that's why I don't like repeating myself - it's not that I have anything against you for not hearing/processing what I just said, it's that I feel like I just sprinted 30 paces because I said two sentences. so if you need me to repeat, I'll either type it up in a text to you or it's just not important enough to waste any more energy you don't need to worry about what I just said who cares lol

3. people not listening/putting words in my mouth. back up to the energy thing, it really bothers me when people don't listen to me or twist what I say because I just spent a lot of precious energy saying something and you took that and turned it into something that was the opposite of what I said so I DO have to repeat myself, louder and with a defensive tone, because I don't want to be known to have said that. if there's someone I know won't listen I don't bother talking

4. medical. I have a lot of "white coat anxiety" which means I can't talk to a lot of doctors. I try, and I can't like there's a wall there. it sucks especially since I go to a lot of doctors who kinda need me to tell them what's wrong with me

5. speed of my thoughts. a lot of the time, my thoughts are going much faster than my mouth can track, which leads to a lot of stuttering and flipped words and even saying the wrong word and sometimes I have to just take a minute to breathe and catch up. its honestly embarrassing because I've internalized it to make myself feel like when that happens I don't seem as intelligent as I am. which likely isn't true but that tied with another speech impediment that makes a lot of "bigger words" difficult to pronounce makes it pretty easy to believe

that's all I can think of for right now, but it's hardly all of it

[plasmaapologist]

...just realized i left my introduction in the drafts. oops. at least i have a better photo now.

my names tula, and i'm a registered pokémon nurse with a horrible tendency to ramble. i live in unova and do some work here, but i mainly travel to other regions for this.

i am a former member of team plasma. former. my username is ironic because i cope with humor.

i ran away from home at age 14- it's a long story - and ended up being indoctrinated in. i, like many others, were lucky to have a sort of "snap to reality" moment after ghetsis' first arrest, before the formation of neo plasma, but not before i spent 10 years of my life working for him. many people are shocked by how open i am about my experience, but i think its extremely important to talk about these things: if i could help just one person leave this cycle, or keep someone from entering it, then it would make the shame worth it.

i have dedicated my life to helping pokémon, as a way to attone, i suppose. my darling solosis, mini, travels with me, though i must admit she's quite the spoiled brat. to have such an innocent creature love and trust you is the most healing experience someone can ask for, and i acknowledge that i was so very lucky. i had a home to return to, i was able to find work despite my history, and physically, i bear only a scar on my back and a missing finger... also just so we all know i am a natural ginger and i am not going to dye my hair please stop asking thanks

feel free to ask me any questions you may have: about pokemon, about myself, or my experience with team plasma, any of the sort. and if you need help leaving neo plasma or a group like it, please shoot me a message, i'll give you all the advice i can.

- tula ☆

ooc and admin info:

hi! im cassini, im 21, and i have not rpd since middle school. please be nice

im okay with joining events and plotlines! but i do not know how to join in naturally and get too embarrassed to ask. please shoot me a message/invite! muse list bellloowwwww tulas info

im not lore compliant at times and am even willing to bend (most) of my own headcanons bc multiverse and the likes! very flexible in general

okay more important tula things:

- sapient pokemon interaction is okay! tula will generally believe them. shes seen weirder. legendaries will be met with much more scrutiny, but kindness.

- i keep her age purposefully vauge for "pokemon timeline makes no sense" reasons, but you can generally imagine her somewhere between 26-30, probably.

- shes been through a lot and often copes with humor, which means she tends to come off the wrong way a lot of the time

- though open about her time in plasma, she doesnt like talking about how it affected her

- she speaks before thinking and often posts in bursts do to this

- she has a pretty shitty memory

MUSE LIST:

Timeline 1:

Tula Gagnon - @plasmaapologist (OC. 📍Unova. Birthday: January 1st)

Callisto Aoki - @cherishcherubi (OC. 📍 Kalos. Birthday: October 25th)

Iolana Kealoha - @teamskullkalos (OC. 📍Kalos. Birthday: April 12th)

Timeline 2:

Mari Pijotto - @marifromkoto (OC. 📍Paldea. Birthday: December 18th)

Katy - @patisserie-soapberry (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Atticus - @navisquadatticus (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Larry - @medali-gym (Canon. 📍Paldea. Half joke blog.)

Robin Lusk - @absolsrenegade (OC/Self Insert. 📍Unova. Birthday: July 5th)

Timeline 3:

Timeline Unknown:

Grise (Hilda Lewis) - @driftingtrainer (Canon. 📍 Vagabond. Birthday: October 5th)

Rochelle Ichihara - @basaltpowder (OC. 📍Hoenn. Birthday ??? )

Barbie & Ken: @championbarbie-swimmerken - (It's fucking Barbie. Yeah, the pink one. 📍 Everywhere. She's Barbie. Birthdays: March 9th, March 11th)

Ice - @rottenice OC. 📍Primarily Sinnoh, but travels a lot. Birthday: December 21st. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

Miki Nakajima - @nakajima-lgm OC.📍 Johto. Birthday unknown. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

@galacticfoundation - Team Galactic AU blog.

@twotoypokemon Pokémon Rumble based blog. Sapient Pokémon OC. 📍Axel Town

[hisui555]

Hazbin Hotel Thoughts : Alcohol 3 !

Part 1 (Hazbin crew) here

Part 2 (Vees + Overlords) here

Masterpost here

Now lessee how well Heaven can hold up its booze. While Ep 6 implies there's no (or very few) alcohol in Heaven, there's this funny concept called "let's pretend". Again, as seen with Charlie and Vaggie, part-angel or fully angelic people aren't immune to alcohol, so, let's go !

First of all, Emily, and I think that the complete irony is that she can hold it even better than Charlie. Ten glasses and she'll still be standing, excitedly asking for more - might even find the experience a brand new one and enjoyable, blissfully unaware of what awaits the common mortals after that (being a Seraphim, she ain't a common mortal). I peg her for the "curious" type of drunk, constantly asking the living hell out of everything and what's this, what's that, why is that guy falling flat on his face and not getting up ? Nor moving ? For hours ? but also hyper and super-excited. She already loves everyone and everything as her sober self, imagine when tipsy. Sliding down further that wonderful realm of drunken stupor might also make her the "sleepy" type, but contrary to Carmilla's "tired" drunk type, she's just yawning and wanting a nap, instead of being exhausted with everything.

Her filter pops like a cork, but given that her demeanor is mainly positive, she'll just shower everyone with praise and love, and at worst embarrass herself with oversharing - a bit of Anna's attitude around Hans in Frozen - so expect a lot of verbal backspace and realizing mid-sentence what she's currently saying, try to cover it up, only to have another slip of the tongue. I think she'll start to feel something around her 10th glass, and by the 16th or so be definitively at least tipsy, but might surprise everyone by tanking a full bottle before giggling at the pretty colors on the ceiling.

And as much just for irony, Sera won't be able to hold that well. She'll struggle to keep her head screwed on straight and try to maintain her usual poise, only to burst out one hysterical laugh ("HA !") at something at the least expected moment, and then snap back to regal and dignified again. While not a total lightweight either, she'll throw in the towel earlier than Charlie, so maybe she has around Vaggie's tolerance. Both the "tired" and "mood-swinger" type of drunk, in a sense that a constant battle to keep up the façade exhausts her pretty quick, and control slips, showing sudden bursts of wheezing hysteria. She'll sway a bit in the air, wings discoordinated, and might have trouble with distance estimations : grabbing something a wee bit too much to the left and patting around to grip the next glass. Might launch into lectures into the void, or talk to herself, both as an effect of the alcohol and to try to focus on something. Most of the time, people don't even peg her for drunk because "drunk" and "Sera" don't compute in their minds, but when you know where to look, you can see the signs that she's definitely wasted.

Might be able to hold 6 or 7 glasses, but by 10 it's over for her. She'll just wander aimlessly and come pretty close to smacking herself into a wall, talking to people that aren't there and being fairly disoriented. Really, the only saving grace is that she doesn't look as stupid as she's feeling, and that nobody will ever believe that the High Seraphim became a high seraphim in the span of an evening : they'll think they were drunk.

Adam. Ha, do I need to say more ? In any case since he's been seen scarfing down food and drinks and pretty much stuffing his face, I'll be lying if I said he isn't a party enjoyer. And he does hold his alcohol pretty well... but less well than he thinks : guy would bet on downing 30 glasses no problems only to get smashed by the 17th or so. Kudos to him, he will reach his 30th, but at that point he's only half-conscious. Verbal coherence goes completely out of the window, luggages included, and physical coherence is not far away, bending over said windowframe to look down and ask how was the landing. This guy is 100% the "rambling" and "complainer" type, because, c'mon, you've seen him when sober, right ? Expect a lot of "in MY time" and "when I was alive" comments, also being the "flirting" type (except nobody can make out what he's slurring, it's as if he's talking sideways from his mouth and sounds like a walking blooper reel) to various results. At its worst, and most inebriated, just before passing out and forgetting this ever happened, he'll also be the "crying" type, all insecurities coming back up, and suddenly the First Man looks like a sobbing child in search for a mother figure (Sera is the unfortunate target), spouting out all what he finds unfair (be it justified or not) and how nobody listens to him nor stays, and that they should obey because he's the dickmaster, and that has to count for something, fucking dammit. (...I didn't expected the swerve into sad, then the even heavier counter-swerve into stupid. Wow.)

However, to get to that point, you'll have to pass layers and layers of "agressive" drunkness, because Adam, being Adam, is gonna look at the lights on the ceiling and decide to fight them, because nobody's supposed to shine brighter than him. That's from glass N° 10 onwards, more or less. And you better let him think he outlasted everyone, or you'll have a whiny bratty fratbro on your hands.

Lute, well. Lute wouldn't want to drink, because Lute is an angel and angels aren't that unbecoming, but Adam already handed her a few and coaxed her into it. It could go both ways : first route, she has uncanny resilience and while managing a tipsy state around 20th shot or so, never really gets to the point of being outright sloshed. Or second, and funnier route : she isn't used to it and is an actual lightweight. Imagine Lute, drunk off her monochrome ass, saluting at nothing and thinking she's in a training session where the 'enemy' has drugged her, and takes on fighting her own chair because it looked at her weird. She'll mix up locations for sure, fuck up distance estimations, pounce on everything, and literally Adam has to be the responsible one for once (with one or two stupid comments of "yeah, women can't hold alcohol" while Emily is drinking him under the table). She'll still be deadly with a weapon, but that's more years of training and her body being honed to the point of it being automatic - because if she had to count on her fuzzed brain and cross-eyed sight alone, she wouldn't hit a cow's arse with a banjo. However, she might also show her more affectionate side to those she likes (like Adam), and definitely be less composed overall, but not relaxing, because Lute wouldn't know relaxing even if she were to be drowning in a beanbag on a nice summer day with a cat on her stomach.

On the second route, 5 glasses and she's toasted, three more and it's over for her. "Violent" and "agressive" type for sure in all cases, though, with a side dash of "sour" and sprinkles of "confronting" sprayed over.

St-Peter would tell you that he doesn't remember being ever drunk in his existence, and he'll be right, because the keyword is remember : he'll go from sober to blackout torched while skipping all intermediate steps after one or two glasses. The guy just blips out of consciousness like the last spark of intelligence behind a Queef's eyes : poof ! gone. His alcohol tolerance would be in the negatives, and the problem is, he doesn't even know it, since he can't ever recall whatever happened. And for fun, nobody tells him, because it's so amusing to watch him eagerly want to participate in the common merriment, even shyly accept a drink to join, then observe the phenomenon the moment he downed the glass : frame one, he's sitting and conscious, frame two, he's very much not anymore, on both accounts. And then wake up, remember nothing, get invited to the next party, and doing it all over again. At least Niffty can boast being awake (even if not really aware) and active, but St-Peter will just go out like a lightswitch.

After a while - and once the fun subsides - people take pity on him and try to experiment with hybrid drinks (mundane + alcohol), but the only effect it achieves is apparently for his mind to spirit away from his body, and he'll just stay there sitting like a statue, smiling into nothing with a thousand yard stare. They call it "good enough" and throw a sheet on him, because the soulless staring can get creepy. Usually, they'll prepare non-alcoholic mimics of the real deal for him from then on : a party's only a good party if everyone has fun, after all.

Aaaand that's a wrap ! Hope you enjoyed !

Again, Masterpost here.

[weekendpassrevoked]

Easy's Songbird - Chapter 5

author's note: no way the first song of the song-inspired fic has finally appeared! please welcome 'bury me beneath the willow' by mary tuttle! music is very very important to this story (if you couldn't tell) and every song has a different meaning based on isabella's experiences throughout the story. since this is such a crucial part to the worldbuilding, i will be adding a song analysis to each song after it's introduced to the story. you can find the link to this under the masterlist! this will tell you so much about her past, even things that haven't been mentioned yet! you can find all the songs that will be included in this fic (in order) in the spotify playlist link on the masterlist!

i've gotten alot of request to make a taglist for this story, so if you're interested you can shoot me a message! thank you all so much for the love you have shown this fic. i would like to note that i do not have a beta reader, so there is bound to be some sort of mistake. whether it be grammatical or chronological. please let me know if you see any of this! i'll fix it right away. please enjoy! (remember to check out the song analysis, it's important!)

Camp Toccoa, Georgia, February 25th, 1942

Nixon and her had eventually managed to give Winters a reply through their laughter, although Winters seemed to be quite embarrassed at his lack of knowledge over Japanese traditional clothing.

“Not to worry sir! I wouldn’t really expect anyone to really know what a kimono is. I’m surprised Lieutenant Nixon even knew what it was.”

The trio came to a stop in front of a large, stable-like wooden building.

“The Army really takes care to make sure everything looks the exact same, huh?’

“Alright Private, this will be your barrack during your time here. We’ll leave you to get settled in. The men are currently at lectures, but expect them back in about 30 minutes. Dinner is at 1900.”

She beams back at them. “Thank you for all your help sirs!”

“Remember to hide that box somewhere really well, okay?”

“I will, no worries sir!”

She quickly climbed the steps up to the door, trickly maneuvering her body to prop open the door while both her hands were occupied. Hurrying inside, she notices the only free bed is at the very back, tucked in the corner. She scurries over, hands getting tired from all the weight they’ve been carrying all day. Dropping her bag on the ground and her box on the bed, she sits down in a huff, exhausted.

‘And it’s only day one…’

Georgia was slightly cooler at this time of the year compared to Florida, but she still felt the incessant mugginess all the same. Strands of her hair were sticking to her forehead, and her cheeks felt warm. Deciding she would clean herself up later, she started on unpacking. 

She found a large footlocker at the end of her bed, thankful for its size. She hadn’t brought a lot, so everything would easily fit. It would’ve been quite the problem if she had packed as much as her mother wanted her too. As she started pulling her things out, she started quietly humming. 

She decided she would put her most personal and valued items at the bottom of the footlocker. Based on what Nixon had told her, it was highly likely Sobel would try to make her life as miserable as possible, and she wouldn’t put it past him to snoop in her things. Her only choice was to bury them as deep as possible and hope for the best. Placing her stuffed animals and her kimono box at the bottom, she quickly began layering her civilian clothes on top to hide them. Placing her veils in the middle, she carefully put her uniforms inside. Her mother and Maya had taken a lot of care in helping her properly fold them, and she wasn’t going to ruin their hard work so quickly. After her bag was empty of almost everything, she triple-checked the footlocker to make sure nothing unusual was noticeable from the outside. She placed her books on top of the footlocker, finally finished.

Happy with her organization, she messily took out the braided bun on her head. Quickly running her hands through her thick curly brown hair, she set on slipping back the loose strands. She had always been bad at braiding her own hair, much to her brother's chagrin, and she clumsily felt the back of her head to check for any bumpy or loose ends, tying it back up when she was satisfied. It wouldn’t do her any good to be making first impressions when not looking her best. It had been one of the most important things her mother had made sure to teach her…

‘Always dead over badly dressed.’

She wasn’t sure how she would uphold that ideal when she was out fighting Germans, but she would try her hardest to make her mother proud, even if she wasn’t there. 

Her humming quickly stopped as she heard loud voices approaching the barracks. The door opened before she managed to turn around to see who it was.

“Oh shit, there’s a broad in here!”

Isabella could already feel the annoyance forming in her chest. She grimaced, cursing her sheltered upbringing.

‘Not one word exchanged and I’m already a broad.’

Her parents had always made sure their son respected women, and eventually that teaching had made it to Lucas and Cameron who’s parents hadn’t done so. It took them a while, but they eventually got the gist after her father slapped them both across the face when he heard what they had said to their next door neighbor. All this to say, Isabella wasn’t remotely used to being referred to insultingly. 

Sure, Isabella had quite the bad habit, one her parents and brother made significant effort to remove once she came home age 9, swearing to her little hearts delight. They ran out of soap that night and her mouth tasted like lye, but her habit never stopped and her family eventually gave up on her potty mouth. But this wasn’t the same. These men didn’t even know her. 

She deeply breathed in, calming her temper down before she caused issues before she even introduced herself. 

‘You never get a second chance at a first impression.’

“You lost sweetheart?”

‘Nevermind, I might get kicked out even earlier than expected.’

She turned around, hands fisted against her sides and a smile on her face.

“Good afternoon, I’m Private Isabella Vega, your new medic.”

The room fell silent, and Isabella felt a drop of sweat roll down her neck as she noticed the different looks of apprehension and displeasure on the men's faces.

Isabella had been a relatively shy girl growing up, and that carried on into her teenage years. This would only change when she would perform, but this meant that she wasn’t very adept at social interaction. Especially with men years older than her. So she did the only thing she knew how to do in this situation…

Appease.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me here, and I understand that. So I’ll make my best effort to stay out of your way as long as you don’t cause any problems with me. Is that okay?”

She heard various mumbles throughout the room and the men turned around once they were satisfied with her introduction. 

Isabella let out a huff, not noticing she was holding her breath. Sitting back down on her bed, she checked the watch on her wrist.

‘Only 5:30…’

Wanting to distract herself, she hurriedly grabbed the journal she had placed on top of her footlocker with her school books. 

‘Maybe I can write a letter to the boys? Or finish that entry I did at the train station?’

Trying to add to what she wrote earlier in the day, she blanked. 

‘Well, the day isn’t over yet so maybe I’ll wait till tonight to finish it.’

Bored and afraid, she began to think of home. Of the marsh around her house, of the bird songs and sticky heat that would last all day, of the willow tree in her backyard.

‘The willow tree…’

Quickly thinking back to the tune she hummed earlier while unpacking, she flipped to a new page and began writing in her journal, inspired.

My heart is sad and I am lonely

For the only one I love

When shall I see him? Oh, no, never

'Til we meet in heaven above

Oh, bury me beneath the willow

Under the weepin' willow tree

So he will know where I am sleeping

And, perhaps, he'll weep for me

He told me that he dearly loved me

How could I believe it untrue?

Until the angels softly whispered

"He will prove untrue to you"

Oh, bury me bеneath the willow

Under thе weepin' willow tree

So he will know where I am sleeping

And, perhaps, he'll weep for me

Tomorrow was our wedding day

Oh God, oh God, where can he be?

He's out a-courting with another

And no longer cares for me

Oh, bury me beneath the willow

Under the weepin' willow tree

So he will know where I am sleeping

And, perhaps, he'll weep for me

Focused on her scribbles, she doesn’t notice the man walking up to her until he clears his throat.

“What are you writing?”

She pauses, noticing the distinct accent, not looking up and timidly replies.

“A song…”

“Oh.”

She feels her ears warm in embarrassment, feeling silly. 

“D’you do that often?”

She shrugs. “I guess so?”

The man hums in reply, intrigued. Curious herself, Isabella looks up to see who had gotten the strength to come speak with her. She’s met with short cropped black hair and gray eyes and notices the patch of white on his arm. Her eyes widened.

“You’re the other medic.”

The man nods. “I’m Eugene Roe.”

Her hands tremble and she has to lay her journal on her lap to distract her. “Nice to meet you, Roe.” Her hands feel numb and cold. “Can I help you with anything?”

Shaking his head, he lets out a sound of denial. “Was just curious.”

A silence falls and she isn’t really sure what else to say.

‘What the hell would the boys do?’

“Um…where are you from, Roe?”

He raises his brow, surprised. “Louisiana. You?”

“Florida.” She smiles gently. “We’re neighbors.”

Her attempts at small talk seem to pay off as Roe chuckles back at her joke, and relief floods her chest. 

“How old are you?” He asks.

Realizing he’s continuing her small talk, she wipes her hands on her skirt.

“I turned seventeen yesterday morning.”

Isabella sees his face harden into something unreadable, and she’s afraid she’s said something wrong until he finally answers back.

“Happy belated birthday.”

“Thank you.” She whispers.

They sit in a comfortable silence until Eugene tells her it's time for dinner. She follows him to the mess hall, feeling much more at ease with someone by her side. She feels kind of like a lost puppy as she follows him around the mess hall and lets her sit next to him. 

‘He’s a lot like Michel…’

Maybe that’s why she feels safe with him?

“So Roe, you’re the ranking medic right? Did you work in the medical field before this?” she asks.

“No. They chose me to be a medic, so now I’m a medic. How about you?”

She shakes her head. “Me neither. All my medical knowledge relates to farm animals.”

Hearing someone scoff close by, she’s met by a man with chocolate colored eyes and fluffy brown hair.

“Only farm animals huh? What are you here for then?”

She feels a flicker of anger, and speaks before she’s able to stop herself.

“To take care of farm animals, what else?”

‘First impressions my ass.’

“What’d you sa-”

She hears laughter coming from next to the man and sees someone slap their hand on his shoulder. 

“Aw lighten up Liebgott, she’s just giving back what you gave her! Cut her some slack.”

“Shut up Luz.”

The man, Luz, reaches over the table, extending his hand. “Nice to meet ya’, I’m George Luz.”

Shaking his hand, she answers. “Isabella Vega.”

“Don’t worry too much about Liebgott, he just has a perpetual stick up his ass.”

She covers her laugh up as a cough. “I see.”

“How old are you, kid? You barely look out of high school.”

“I turned seventeen yesterday, so you’re right.” She smiles. 

“No way!”

“Yes way!” she giggles. “I didn’t even finish my senior year. That’s why I have all those school books sitting on my footlocker.”

He continues. “Oh, so you’re a bookworm? You’d get along great with Webster then.”

Her eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side. “Why’s that?”

“He’s a Harvard kid.”

Intrigued, she hums back her reply. She turns back to Liebgott, and she feels a pang of guilt.

“Hey, Liebgott is it?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I’m sorry I said that, I was really rude. I didn’t mean it.”

They all seem to wait and see what he does and it feels like forever before he finally answers.

“Yeah, whatever.”

‘I’ll take what I can get!’

Eventually, dinner ends and everyone heads back to the barracks for the night. She quickly scurries inside behind Eugene and grabs her clothes. Realizing she has no idea where the bathrooms are, she timidly tugs on Eugene’s sleeve. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, where are the bathrooms?”

He kindly accompanies her outside while she profusely apologizes for bothering him. He’s adamant he doesn’t mind, but Isabella is sure he wants to get back inside as soon as possible and get the hell to sleep.

Entering the bathrooms, she finds a stall at the very end with a sign with her name on it. She shimmies out of her skirt and heels, sighing in relief. Quickly putting on the PT clothes she was provided, she takes a moment to wash up her face and brush her teeth. She has a horrible headache and she realizes she’s been ridiculously tense all day and the bun on her head was not helping. Letting the bun go, she quickly undos the braid and runs her fingers through, untangling any knots. 

As she walks out, she realizes Eugene is still standing outside, seemingly waiting for her. He insists that his waiting wasn’t a big deal, stating, “I don’t need my new medic getting lost in the dark by herself on her first day.”, and she can understand why. It doesn’t make her feel any better though. 

When they finally reach the barracks, she bids Eugene a goodnight and heads for her bed. She realizes she hasn’t prayed her rosary yet or finished writing in her journal the moment her head hits the pillow.

She had no dreams that night.

taglist: @malarkgirlypop, @darling-heffron

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

do u believe in the 27 forever curse? and how did u survive being 27?

in a way i believe it, but i dont see it as a curse, i find it to b more mathematical, as, you see: in astrology there is something called the progressed chart it'd take too iong to explain here but. when you're 27/28 u experience a transit called the "progressed lunar return". Having to do w the moon, it brings up unresolved pains from childhood, it's also seen as a precursor to ur saturn return that happens when ur 28-30. Like that wound u become overwhelmingly aware of at 27 is the set-up for what saturn's about to obliterate in order to redirect your life in alignment w your highest self. its all just math xD

No but it is sad how age 27 has bcome synonymous w /the curse/ as many ppl cant cope w their pain so they end up taking drastic measures. Thats why i like learning abt systems such as astrology cus when i was 27 it was an absolute nightmare but i kept reminding myself its temporary & this difficulty is just what the forecast called for. 27 rly was the grand culmination of all my fuck ups & childhood sadness especially revisiting death + immigration pains.

i survived it by ummmm having a huge embarrassing unrequited crush on slimbo that i fantasized about all day long xD and taking a lot of sedatives. i barely made any art or posts that year. it was complete hell! towards the end of it my friend saint died which catapulted me back into action. idk if i wouldve started using tumblr or getting serious abt art again if it wasnt for saints passing. cus i was in such a defeated place, but i rly wanted b the person they once saw me as. so i pulled myself up i guess and tried to do some saturn shit..And thats how i got thru it

Now 3 yrs later my life completely different. And way better! but still hard. it never gona b perfect. just keep going even if u have to b a shell for a while. Fight! On! Fight! On! -PMD9

[radio-navlee]

Hiii! Could you do hcs of the Sturniolo triplets? In general (only if you want :))

AAAAHHH!! ANOTHER STURNIOLOS FAN?!? EEEEEE! Ok ok, I gotta act calm…

Yes ofc I’ll do that!!!🤭🤭🤭 (I did each triplet as well😶 hope that’s ok)

Sturniolos:

Used to have tickle fights until Nick got uncomfortable.

Chris alway initiated the fights by either tickling Nick first and having to run and tickle Matt, or tickling Matt first and having him tickle Nick.

Matt and Chris are closer to comfortably tickling each other, but Nick doesn’t like the touch and it freaks out a bit.

Nick always has a sassy remark when Chris tried to initiate the tickle fights, “Your joking?” “Chris, I swear to god” “Don’t play with me!”

When having an argument, at least someone brings up tickling and Chris is always the first one to take charge of that.

The first time Matt initiated a fight between him and Chris, Chris had to let him win because he was so impressed that Matt wanted to do one with him.

Alright guys, meat and potatoes!!

Nick: 60/40 Ler

Ler-

Always does it to prove a point or because you aggravate him.

It either starts out as Nick going “Don’t you fucking touch me! You know what?” And ends with “I told you not to, dumbass! Now look at you!”

Chris and Matt are literally running from him most of the time because they know how evil he is with this.

On the rare accasion he does initiate tickle fights, he wins them most of the time.

Useally uncomfterble with tickling so he does most of it.

Doesnt really know how too when it comes to other people, but with Matt and Chris he completely wrecks them.

Favorite methods are squeezing, fluttering, skittering, or clawing

Lee-

Hates it, but that doesnt mean we cant pretend he doesnt want it here or there.

Anything on the torso will have him fighting you off like a wild animal. Your arm? well its broken now.

Doesnt mind the neck or knee tickles every now and then.

He insults you through laughter too, "YOU BITCH!" type of insult

Hes the type of person to grab onto you too, like your wrists or arms to try to get you to stop.

Hasnt been tickled in a while where hes completely out of breath, he trys to avoid that as much as posible

Matt: 70/30 Lee

Lee-

Get annoyed with tickling but never gets sick of it

Chris always targets Matt, almost always going for armpits.

Matt kicks a lot when you tickle him sitting down or laying down. If he’s standing up and you tickle him, he folds over trying to get away, or runs.

His worst spots have to be Knees, armpits, ribs, and thighs. If you get him in any of these spots he’s screaming.

Hates getting tickled in the car, feels like he has no room and since he is the driver, feels like he could break the car.

Tries to fight you off at first, but eventually gets weaker the more you tickle him.

His laughter is like a squeaky low pitched laugh, but it also depends on where you tickle him.

Sometimes Chris or Nick will see Matt get uncomfortable, or his social battery will run out, they like to tweak his sides as a “u good?”

Discovered his neck was pretty ticklish one day and never told anybody, nobody knows except him to this day

Will snort, never squeal, even if he did, it just be a higher pitched scream.

Uses the word sensitive instead of ticklish or says “it feels weird” instead of “it tickles”

More ticklish when he’s sleepy or tired

Ler-

Pretty evil, and doesn’t care what happens to him. Meaning you can say “I will kill you” and he won’t even bat an eye.

Knows how to tickle pretty well. (From experience of getting wrecked so many times)

Doesn’t know how to tease and gets pretty embarrassed and feels awkward trying to.

favorite methods are spidering, squeezing, and kneading.

On playful days, he will tweak (specifically) Nicks sides and try to wreck him.

Sees Chris as a challenger when it comes to picking on Nick, or seeing how much they can annoy him.

Always confident when it comes to tickle fights, (He loses most of them)

Chris-

50/50 Switch (also idk y the gif is so ginormous)

ler-

Big teaser, absolutely loved the idea of teasing his brothers. (Knows Matt hates it the most and really rubs it in his face)

Wiggles his fingers at you, and finds air tickles hilarious.

Random tweaks are his favorite thing to do to throw off his brothers.

Still doesn’t understand how tickling works but he knows he’s good at it.

Favorite spots to go for are sides, armpits, and neck.

wiggling fingers, whispering in ears and jumping onto them are warning signs to his brothers that he’s about to wreck them.

Very VERY! Playful when it comes to tickling.

Pinching, squeezing, and tap scratching are his go to moves.

Lee:

Again I’d like to emphasize that he is very playful when it comes to tickling.

It is confirmed that he is very ticklish, so I wanna say he’s the most ticklish out of the group.

when it come to fighting and Nick puts his hands on Chris, he always gets in a situation where Nick accidentally tickles him.

Giggles like crazy when getting tickled.

Also flails like crazy, kickings and waving his arms around.

He tends to tense up when getting tickled if you surprise him, he kinda like freezes.

His most ticklish spots are his sides, neck, shoulders, and calves. (Idk why but he seems like a calves guy)

Soooo sorry this took so long, you probably thought I forgot about it! I’ve been pretty busy this summer, I promise you more stuff is coming out soon!

[chrryblssmninja]

top nine first time watches of 2023 tagged by @dizzymoods

this accidentally posted while I was working on alt text during a work break, so not everything is complete but the photos align with the text below.

#1 top film and theater experience of the year) watching Fremont in Fremont as a former Fremont resident

(2023, Babak Jalali)

2) Animalia (Parmi nous) via Sundance streaming

(2023, Sofia Alaoui)

becomes a truly mystical experience. like ppl are gonna make comparisons with certain Soviet films but let this one stand on its own pls

3) Bravo, Burkina (2023 , Walé Oyéjidé) via Sundance streaming

4) Cry of the City (1948, Robert Siodmak) at Noir City.

My fave of the films I was able to catch at the various festivals here throughout the SF Bay, though for top experience I was grateful to finally get to the Castro Theatre for two SF Silent Film screenings before Another Planet changes the seats...

5) The Blazing Sun (Siraa Fil-Wadi) (1954, Youssef Chahine)

screencap found here

6) There is No Evil (Sheytân vojūd nadârad)

(2020, Mohammad Rasoulof)

The "Bella ciao" scene alone is iconic! Yet it is just one moment within a devastating and strident cinematic statement.

7) And Then We Danced (Da chven vitsek'vet)

(2019, Levan Akin)

If you have had any rigorous dance training, you can tell how good this film is- down in the details, telling story through movement.

8) Journey to Epcot Center: A Symphonic History

(2023, Defunctland/Kevin Perjurer)

screencap found here

I SUPPORT KEVIN IN ALL HIS ENDEAVORS

9) Baticano (2023, Stillz)

Imagine my surprise when I turn my TV and one of the best modern homages to German Expressionism and 30's-50's Western studio horror, starring Bad Bunny as Nosferatu and Steve Buscemi as a "mad scientist." The depths of the black parts of the screen alone... pure! black! contrast! Not the telltale flat digital black-gray!

Benito may be no Max Schreck, but Stillz was on a roll for the rapper's videos last year, and now I feel less... embarrassed? that I was repeatedly hypnotized by the hyper-Coachella vibes of the "Where She Goes" video... Stillz has skills.

Or at least knows how to shoot what I like.

Runners-up are many, but I want to highlight:

a) a small but solid run of horror viewing in October, from the adrenaline of As Above So Below to all the subtext James Whale snuck into The Old Dark House. Doctor Jekyll and Sister Hyde should be counted as one of the best Hammer horrors imo. On the borders of the horror were Mother Joan of the Angels, La Llorona, and the more witchy fantasy The Five Devils.

b) sidestep into Indonesia with May the Devil Take You, which may not be at the tip top levels of Impetigore but still a uniquely wild ride. Headshot sets standards on the action side, and you can definitely spot Gareth Evans' Indonesian industry training in his English folk-action-horror foray Apostle.

[dont-worry-honey]

OK

WHICH ART MATERIALS DO YOU USE?!

LIKE, HOW DOES YOUR PEN.. PEN LIKE THAT. THE LINES ARE SO AKHSOWHSIWHISJW

AND YOUR COLORS ACTUALLY COLOR

Please. I need to know.

Hi!! So I’ll be very honest I don’t use anything fancy!

So here’s the list and a funny story along with them! (You’re getting the whole experience)

INKING:

STA Pigment Liner Pack. (I found one in the street and I liked it so I went to look for more online. Almost died for picking up something from the street counter: 1)

- Pros: Waterproof! (For a while) And since it’s a pack, they come with many different sizes

- Cons: after some time the ink does erase a little, and loses its waterproof….

Sharpie Permanent Marker Ultra Fine (I was in desperate need for new inking pen.)

-Pros: Doesn’t ERASE!! Very strong pigment. Water proof. Lasts!!

-Cons: smell…

COLORING:

Royal & Langnickel 18 watercolors: (I just wanted to have something to do in school since I never had much work to do)

Pros: Very Travel Friendly

Cons: idk!! I’m not a watercolor person !! It’s the first time for me!!

Aenart 36 Dual Pens: (I was gifted this from the school!! The embarrassing part was that I sleeping when it all happened. They stormed in the classroom with a camera in my face saying: “YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED.” I practically jumped out of my chair! Apparently my teacher bought it for me!<3)

Pros: MANY COLORS!! VERY PRETTY!! White marker is perfect for shading white!! (I know nothing about shading)

Cons: none I love them

Staedtler 10 Triplus fineliner: (no story)

Pros: very fine! Very pigmented!

Cons: I don’t remember… maybe don’t put them near watercolor if not dried or applying?

Crayola Color Pencils: (I do not have a full pack. The ones I have are from elementary. I’m currently in college.)

Pros: I like them :) very affordable

Cons: idk! Maybe a professional knows…

Imperial Color Pencils: (I only have ONE! It’s the red one. Almost died for picking up something from the street counter: 2)

Pros: The red one is very nice! Very pigmented!

Cons: idk… I don’t have the full pack…

U Brands Gel Pens 30 Count: ( I got this from a secret Santa! A YEAR LATE. A YEARR!! So when I received it I was very pleased. The year wait was worth it)

Pros: many colors!! Glitter!! Metallic too!!

Cons: does NOT dry fast. Need to wait for it to dry or it will smudge everywhere. The white gel pen doesn’t work well. Get a special one for that! (Someone told me here which one but I already forgot….)

PROCESS:

So ofc sketch first!!

Inking: I use the STA pen for face and face shape. Since I draw Fukase (mostly), I use it for his face markings too. (After erasing sketch, I advice to touch up anywhere you used the STA Pen) For the Sharpie Pen I use it for the the rest. Background, body, clothes, etc.

Coloring: First I go over it with my watercolors. I put them down before I put down the markers. For example, I use the watercolor first for Fukase’s hair. Then I use the Staedtler Pens to get that bright red! For clothes (or anything else) I use Aenart Markers. For the background, I put my crayola/ imperial color pencils on top. Depends on the feeling I want. Then I usually like to outline my drawings with the U Brands Gel Pens. When I tell you I put glitter on all my drawings, I put it on ALL my drawings!! I LOVE SHINY!!

Conclusion:

I really hope this was able to answer your question! I’m pretty sure most of the things on my list are affordable! I also hope my process was able to help explain how I make coloring… well coloring (English is not my first language I apologize. I suck at my first language too, though). I also hope you enjoyed the bonus stories (I didn’t want to make this whole thing boring). If you have any more questions I’ll be happy to answer them!! Also THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I never thought someone would actually like how I color since I struggle big time with it,,, I’m self taught so I have no idea of the art basics of coloring.

Anyway, thank you so much again!!

- Honey

P.S. Due to legal reasons, not sponsored.

[patchbadger]

Hello it's been 7 years on this website and I come with raccoon paws scratching at your window pane.

TLDR: I'm supporting 3- 6 humans, a mortgage, inflated electric bills, student loans, basic needs, and working as the sole provider and now I cannot afford my medicine that prevents my migraines. If you want cheap art I am here hi just remember I'm colorblind so colors won't be perfect.

I take many medications for my migraine condition. I take a daily preventative, an abortive when I have a migraine, and then I have a monthly preventative that is an injectable. I need all of these to get me down to 6 or 8 migraines a month. If it rains I have more but this is with medication. If I do not have one of these medications I have migraines daily and if I encounter a trigger like not getting enough sleep, the weather changing, smoking, etc I'll get knocked out.

Unfortunately I have brainstem migraines which impacts my speech and ability to move in my environment. I continue to work through my migraines because I have literally no choice. I basically look and sound drunk it's horribly embarrassing.

This impacts my ability to drive too. If it strikes at work I need to uber home because my coworkers won't drive me home and no one else has a license.

If I miss one dose of any of my medications it sets off a migraine conga line qs I like to call it and I begin having migraines every 2- 3days and the longer I am off it the more migraines I steadily have.

It's hell.

My migraine medication is 208$. I am currently the only working adult for a household of three and there will soon be three children here for the summer.

Unfortunately I had serotonin syndrome a few weeks ago as some of you know and that had me out of work for a week and a half. Meaning I lost a week and a half pay check. Which may not seem like much but we live in constant poverty and are food insecure.

Literally every dollar counts in our precarious position.

The electricity company in western New York is super charging its customers so a regular electric bill for a house using less electric than average is 300- 500$ a month. Which is just a little less than our mortgage

We currently owe over a 1,000 in back pay, there isn't any relief for individuals who cannot pay the inflated rates. It's totally crazy but I need my medication. I can call the electric company and beg but I can't beg for my medicine.

My field also experiences a drop in attendence in the summer and due to my health my boss I'd trying to reduce my hours to help my body recover. That's great and all but it doesn't help me get the money I need for my injection.

My student loans are 875$ a month and I'm on the lowest payment plan and the government just sold my loans to a private company so I will be paying additional loans soon.

As you can see I have a lot on my plate but I just need that migraine medicine so I can work through it. I do a lot of passive income through survey junkies but I can't do those activities when I'm migraining.

All the images below are works in progress

Basic pencil and ink illustration

Comic book pages 15- 30 depending on content and number of pages.

if you want a comic badly and feel OK with my abilities we can work on a manageable and low price to make multiple pages happen. So bulk pages will be cheaper.

Comic book featured custom outlets??? Just resin customized outlet covers???

Can do

Painting I mean I'm trying it but if you'd like one hmu man

I tinker around with a lot of stuff

I also like to find old toys/statues and remake them so if youre interested in my raccoon art that stuff is up for new homes that will appreciate their unique beauty and love them for who they are.

Thanks for your attention and happy scrolling!!