#its toast XD

[hallowcryptidstudio]

This golden brown rizz monster is Toast (@figgy.toast )

But honestly, everyone should know that by now lol!

[bright-side-of-the-moon]

to jacks:

OH NO! i laughed way too hard at "is what i wouldve said" forgive me. it happens to the best of us. rip jacks' work.

HI TOAST :D!! DONUT SENDS LIL FROGGY HUGS x

to neeks:

oh yah nico is permanently banned from ever going anywhere near a stove top. the salvaged remains of the cookies didnt even taste good (he tried to add more sugar to make them sweeter but that just threw off the balance and made them dry and crumbly. thank u chemistry)

leo and nico are the now the sole 2 members of the kitchen fire hazard club :) percy is also banned because he somehow managed to get blue food colouring on the ceiling :)

to mike:

how was first week at camp? hope youre settling in alright. i might make some (dino shaped) sandwiches today, do you have any favourite fillings? SHARK BISCUITS >:D

from hilal ^-^

dividers by me lol. be nice i have no idea what im doing XD

UPDATES FOR THE GHOST KING DI ANGELO AND JACKS BLOGS!!!

Jacks:

First to business, the running fanfic is going well. Is what I would've said if I hadn't already completely finished it, forgot to save it online, and post it the day afterwards, and had my beautiful work of art's progress deleted faster than Trophonius cutting off Agamethus' head.

Long story short, I have to restart it, beginning from the very shoddy middle again.

Jacks is very upset that I haven't told the edited version of their life recently.

Toast says Hi :)

Nico:

The Nico di Angelo blog is running smoothly and on rhythm as normal

Keep tagging him in anything and everything that reminds you of him (I really like replying to all of them in my very short, small amount of time I have in the morning (which is around 45 minutes of freetime on a good school day))

Nico and Hazel have decided to feed Arion a golden apple from the three-legged death race. It did not go very well, at all.

Nico is banned from cooking in the Hestia Cabin, due to him burning it halfway down, saying, and I quote, "Make these cookies as fiery as The River Phlegethon."

Mike:

I have decided to do news for all three of my outlets of content creation on Tumblr, on Mr. McDonut's blog over here.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, Girly Go.

Slay, and all that jazz (idk what to do anymore)

Pirate song for today:

Ferryman, By Shayfer James and Will Wood

[captain039]

Stains of red

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Vampire things, blood, light gore, witch things, fantasy things, swearing, age gap, heats, smut, shameless flirting, virgin reader, indulging in pleasure xD, pining, jealousy, possessiveness

I can’t wait for the game I must write. I’ve watched too many TikTok’s on him🤣 so I may not get his characteristic. But I have an idea on them lol.

No spoilers for the game cause I haven’t played it lol

The raven awoke you as he did all mornings, cawing on your window seal making you huff and almost throw your pillow at him.

“Must you?” You said and he just cawed flying into your house and landing on your bedside table.

“Good morning” you chuckled and Pax cawed in response.

“Any hostile creatures lurking?” You said and he just cawed again fluttering his wings slightly.

“Helpful” you rolled your eyes and stretched. You started your day as you always did, some tea and toasted bread with jam, sitting on the front porch watching Pax fly away back to his family. You saved Pax when he was a baby bird, ugly little thing really with no feathers, but you raised him and now he wakes you every morning and watched the forest for you. Though you didn’t understand him, he understood you well enough. The forest felt cold somehow today though, like something cold was lurking within it and feeding off its emotions, same feeling you got from a certain vampire. Ever since your parents died to a vampire, Astarion has apparently made it his duty to check on you. He wasn’t the one who killed your family, but he was the one to tear the other vampires head off in a craze. You’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he did, nor will you forget the softness he showed younger you. You practically grew up by yourself, self sustaining beyond measures, Astarion didn’t know a thing about children, yet he didn’t let any of the village members come. He brought you food, books, clothes, anything you needed till you got old enough to take care of yourself. Your teenage years were hard, a lonely omega presenting wasn’t ideal for anyone and you felt like the gods truely hated you in those times of your heats. Astarion was neither alpha, beta or omega, you supposed it was due to him being practically dead. He just had a simple cold smell, like snow if snow smelt like anything. Due to him being the only male around you’d ever see your teenage lust was after him, a man however many years old who raised you, sort of. You cursed the gods daily because of this lust, now thought it simmered deeper within your heart and you hated it.

“Why’re you looking so thoughtful?” You heard a hum in front of you and jumped seeing Astarion there.

“Gods sake Astarion!” You glared and he laughed.

“Darling, you should be aware of your surroundings” he huffed with a smirk and you rolled your eyes. Pet names, boy did he love his pet names, darling, sweetheart, dearest, sweet thing, whatever his mind could think of and it drive you insane.

“Why’re you here?” You asked frowning slightly at his scent, a woman’s scent, a beta, gods had he bedded and fed someone before coming here? You glanced to his mouth, no red stains or signs of feeding, he bedded her then. That was somehow worse.

“Can I not see you? I am hurt” he pouted and you sighed standing up and grabbing your plate and cup.

“I have not seen you in months” you didn’t mean to snap, but you did as you walked into your cottage, him following.

“Were you not in heat?” He said casually and you flushed. You were in heat, how the hell did he manage to know your cycle?

“I was” you grumbled going to the sink.

“Not that it affects you” you scoffed, why were you angry?

“Why’re you angry sweetest?” He asked leaning against the counter beside you, tilting his head.

“I’m not angry” you lies washing your cup and plate before drying them.

“You’re also a terrible liar” he huffed. You turned abruptly and huffed at him before a knock came. He snapped his head to the door alerted, eyes narrowing.

“It’s just one of the villagers probably” you rolled your eyes at the vampire and opened the door. A villager indeed, only his fingers were missing.

“Gods what happened?” You asked.

“I was chopping some wood I got distracted by something, I was putting the wood down and left me hand there!” He said and you gulped.

“Right” you said turning around seeing Astarion staring at the man’s fingers.

“Astarion” you said softly and he snapped his head to yours mouth slightly agape. He snarled and went to your room while you took the man to your other room. You were a witch of sorts, you knew few spells, mainly healing ones, hence why the villagers came.

“Sit down” you said and the man sat down. You recognised him as the butchers son, a handsome young alpha, not to sharp though apparently. You made him hold his hand on the table and began chanting softly. You moved your hands around, watching the yellow glow emit from them and swirl around his fingers. Soon enough they were back and normal apart from the blood stains.

“There” you smiled.

“Thank you so much miss” he smiled softly a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Idiot” you heard and turned to glare at Astarion in the door way.

“Excuse him he has no manners” you huffed and cocked your head at the vampire who huffed and left.

“I can’t thank you enough miss” the alpha said still flushed as he shook your hand.

“It’s alright, just don’t do it again” you laughed lightly.

“Course, I was wondering-“ he stopped mid sentence glancing to something behind you and gulped.

“Thank you” he said and disappeared quickly.

“What did you do?” You turned to Astarion who shrugged.

“He’s a perfectly nice man!” You growled and went to clean up the blood.

“He was clearly trying to fuck you” Astarion said with a scoff and you flushed and froze.

“Excuse me?” You said as you scrubbed the blood a little harshly.

“Fuck you darling, bed you, a night of pleasure?” He said like you were stupid.

“I know what it is!” You said voice going higher.

“Have you still not had someone bed you?” He said voice teasing almost though something was strange about his tone. You threw out the rag and briskly walked past him to avoid that conversation. He scared off half the village! and you were in love with him for gods sake!

“Get out my house” you huffed turning and pointing to the door.

“I just got here” he huffed.

“I don’t care” you pointed to the door again.

“So dull” he whined, but left making you sigh in relief.

You watched the firefly’s over the small lake you had in front of your house. Nice clear spring, perfect in any weather it truely was a blessing. Sometimes if it was a warm night you’d go out for a swim with little clothing, enjoy the water under the warm night sky. It was a warm night and you felt like you could use a swim. You finished tea and changed into a robe and grabbed a towel. You laid the towel by the bed of the lake and glanced around before slipping your robe off and stepping in. You walked out a bit before resting on your back and sighing, eyes closing and tuning your ears into the wild life. You could hear critters scurrying around to grab their nightly meal, an owl nearby hooting softly, a few rabbits hoping along the ground and- footsteps? You lowered your body back into the water and glanced around, you couldn’t see anyone even with your heightened senses. You listened closer, two footsteps one heavy and one extremely light, the heavy one sounded like they were running. Then you heard a scream and blocked out the noise by covering your ears quickly before the smell of blood floated on the wind. You quickly left the lake and put on your towel before rushing inside and locking the door. You panted harshly missing the red eyes that watched you through the window.

Next part ->

[wazzappp]

@rokhal happy comment day!! I’m not so good with writing so I thought I would contribute to the celebration of fic writers by drawing some stuff!

Can not BELIEVE it took me so long to notice the ‘anime girl running late to class with a piece of toast in her mouth’ refrence in ‘Wrong Universe’ its so fucking goooddddddddd.

‘Totally Awesome Automotive Diagnostic Tool’ might be my favorite fic from you of all time. Idk why but this particular moment just stood out to me it’s so silly but also has like. A weight to it? Congrats Robbie you’ve made a friend so incredibly blunt with his words you can’t hide from your magical-ness anymore lol.

Couldn’t let the ‘Van Helsing shows up and fixes the problem’ idea for ‘Curse of the Heretic’ go away lmao. Also thank you so much to @spikershoyo for helping me with the translations! Gabe saying ‘Get ready to be kicked back into hell you son of a bitch’ was an absolute necessity to get just right XD

I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your fanfic. It’s become so integral to my understanding of Robbie’s character that it’s just canon for me at this point. I haven’t met a single person in this fandom that hasn’t not only read but LOVED your writing. What you make genuinely helps keep the love for Robbie going. I hope you know how much we all love and appreciate it <33

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Morning

The sleepy mornings that followed the night-long parties at Steve’s apartment always felt oddly domestic to Y/N.

Steve-O X Gn!Reader

(Fluff)

807 Words

Warnings: Steve’s nasty ass appartment

An: Inspired by the Jackass MTV Cribs episode! I was really interested in Steve’s apartment and like the environment there!! It’s so nasty and awesome XD The fic that resulted from that fascination ended up really fluffy and domestic! I haven’t seen a fic like this about Steve before and I’m really happy with how it came out! Anyways, thank you please keep sending in requests!

It was a shockingly domestic scene for the two of you- sunlight gently diffusing through Steve’s dirty bedroom window as you blinked awake, your head resting on his chest. There was something so cozy about the way your two fit together on his mattress- perfect, like puzzle pieces. Things like this rarely happened in that bed. You lazily studied the tattoos on your boyfriend’s chest and arms with half lidded eyes, your eyelashes tickling against his skin. He stayed fast asleep as you idly traced over them. Christ, it was like you were newlyweds. Chuckling softly to yourself at the prospect of the two of you getting married, your stomach growled. Begrudgingly, you peeled his Batman sheets off of your tired body before getting up, clad in nothing but your underwear and one of Steve’s t-shirts you found at the foot of his bed.

Walking through that apartment was like traversing a minefield. Stepping over the random trash that littered the stained carpet and ducking under the grand Budweiser archway that miraculously appeared in the doorway after a night of partying a week ago, you felt Lucifer, Steve’s cat who just couldn’t get enough you whenever you were over, brush against your leg. You reached down to pet her, smiling when you heard her purr, “Aww…Lucy, baby…” Everything that morning seemed oddly still without your boyfriend breaking a coffee table or having his roommate throw Pop-It’s at his face, like it was frozen in time as you riffled through the cheap plywood cabinets in the kitchen for something to eat, the linoleum chilling your bare feet. Kids cereal, instant Mac and cheese, a couple of roaches- nothing appetizing. Checking the fridge which was always tilted on some weird angle due to the skatepark that ran through the kitchen, you didn’t find anything besides more beer and a few jars of pickles. You did, however, find a tin of cat food on the counter, which you cracked open and placed on the floor as you continued your search.

In the back of the very last cabinet you checked, covered in spiderwebs and maybe an inch of dust, you found this tall, cylindrical device. Out of curiosity you picked the machine up, feeling its weight as you held it tucked in the crevice of one arm while brushing one of the stacks of old pizza boxes and empty beer cans off the counter with a clatter. Steve never had any sort of kitchen appliances so this confused you, especially after having seen him make toast one morning by slapping a piece of Wonderbread on the stovetop and flipping it with two forks. After a brief examination, you figured out what you found was some kind of juicer. Great! The only issue was that the closest thing to a fruit or vegetable you had on hand was an expired can of cherry pie filling.

But then you saw it, sitting in the refuse- a single, juicy, perfectly round orange. It’d probably work, you thought, peeling it, so hungry that you didn't even think to wash the dust out of the inside before stuffing the fruit into it and turning it on. The way that it shook and sputtered like it was on its deathbed made you think that maybe it was broken as it half-mushed up the orange, but you could see it was kind of working.

Just then, your boyfriend stumbled out from your bedroom, pulling his jeans on mid-step over his boxers as he groggily mumbled, “Fucks goin’ on?” Turning it off for a second, you looked up to him, “I found a juicer in your cabinet, so I’m making juice.” Steve leaned against the cheap linoleum counter, reaching into the old, grease stained pizza box from the previous night to grab a cold slice of congealed cheese. He furrowed his brow as he shoved it into his mouth, “I had a juicer?” Cocking your head to the side, you looked him up and down before chuckling, “Is that what you’re having for breakfast?” Steve shrugged, tossing the pizza down onto the counter to wipe his mouth, “Yeah- breakfast of champions, man. Wha’d you got?”

Grabbing a clean enough glass from the sink and rinsing it, you placed it under the spout of the juicer and opened it, letting an unimpressive amount of orange juice trickle out. A shot glass would’ve been better to hold it, but you still held it up like you were proud of it. As Steve raised an eyebrow at the glass, you snatched the pizza off of the counter and took a big bite of it. He cracked a smile at your eagerness, “Oh sure, yeah, help yourself.” It didn’t taste half bad, you thought, and eyes twinkled when his sarcasm fell apart as he eyed your juice, “Can I have some’a that?”

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 19th, 2023

"Vampire Season" Pavlova with Strawberry Jam.

(Clip Studio Paint, Gouache Brush. 7 colors. 45 minutes)

Back on my bullshit with all shiny and no cast shadows and no scene. I just like SOFT egg and item in void. It speaks to me. I will learn to draw full scenes eventually. I'm getting a biiiit better at rendering complex forms but because it's all organic shapes there's a lot of wiggle room. I will learn harder stuff, eventually. But Eggtober is for fun and after drawing the Cipriani cake yesterday I was like "I liked drawing the meringue but trying to toast the edges is hard and trying to render a full scene is a challenge. I wanna do that again, but just the fun parts. At the point again where I'm having to learn and it's awkward because I just wanna goof off. When I finish more personal projects after Eggtober I might come back for Drawcember and finish some OLD AS BALLS pieces I started as a teen and use them for longform learning and subject studies. But the perk is... if I can draw a pavlova like this, it means I can draw roses too. Which means you're gonna see me painting them on random shit eventually. XD Hopefully @lady-quen's breadbugs don't get too sticky with the syrupy jam!

Big thanks to @quezify for organizing eggtober. Is it obvious that my favorite part of the egg is the yolk and that my favorite part of an egg dish is any shiny stuff I can put on it?

Speedpaint Time!

Not a 1 to 1 render. I try not to copy 100% because part of art is learning to draw what you see. But when I do that 1 to 1, I call that a study. When I make art that isn't a study, my goal is to capture but iterate. And I thought that one big drip up front looked much more dramatic by its lonesome than with the other drip. Also extra shiny. But I did take a lot of direct inspiration from this one. I like that big floppy petal-looking stripe of meringue on top and those creases at the bottom where the edges overlap and make little channels... so hopefully I rendered all the most dramatic pieces well for you all!

[fandomsandfairytales]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Annaáuchiwee!!!

(I know it was started long before a year ago now, but a year ago is when the first chapter of the first book was published on AO3, so that’s what I’m counting as its anniversary.)

I love this series so, so much and I am SO glad that you two, @thegreenleavesofspring (Bri) and TAC (The Anonymous Coauthor), decided to write it and put it out into the world. Honestly, this is one of my favorite series ever, and Bri, I feel extremely privileged to get to talk to you about it and freak out over it with you. Plus, I am thoroughly impressed by how much you and TAC have written and are still writing!

I admit, I didn’t start reading Óhchikaape—the first book in the series, for those who haven’t read it—immediately when the first chapter came out. I knew of its existence fairly early on but didn’t start reading it until several chapters were published, and then I was hooked. Every time I see an email update in my inbox, or I see a chapter update post from Bri on Tumblr, I immediately want to drop what I’m doing and read the newest chapter. (I follow that impulse probably 90% of the time XD the 10% of the time I don’t, it’s because I have something more pressing that I must do before reading it, and making myself have the self-control to do that thing or things first is quite difficult. Sleep only occasionally gets counted as a reason to wait, lol.)

For anyone who’s following me—or reading this post—who hasn’t read this series, I highly, HIGHLY recommend it. Here’s a one-sentence summary, written by Bri: “Annaáuchiwee is slice-of-life about a reformed reprobate biker thug and his feral Crow family, and how he goes from being an unapologetic reprobate to a good husband, father, and cowboy (with some human trafficking breaking up on the side.)” The series has fantastic characters, an engaging plot, and complex, meaningful relationships. If you like redemption/healing arcs, found family, sacrificial love, and lots of humor mixed with seriousness and deep emotions, you will probably love Annaáuchiwee. Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3728485

Once again, thank you so, so much, Bri and TAC, for writing and sharing this wonderful story. It’s been an incredible journey thus far, and I can’t wait to read more. To another year of Annaáuchiwee! *raises glass in a toast*

(Also, I feel like it’s worth noting that you two were mostly responsible for getting me interested in a TV show—Longmire—and a music artist—Ian Munsick—because I would not have been nearly as interested in either if not for you guys and this series. So thank you for that, as well.)

[lunadreamscaper]

Have a Gavin headcanon:

When he was a kid, he didn't believe in the paranormal, and made it loud and clear that he thought it was stupid. Like whenever Toast brought up the idea of ghosts, Gavin would call him stupid and that they weren't real.

Then he got his Spirit-Vision and realised that the dead are real and are not happy with their existence being regarded as "just something stupid"

Plus Toast being a litttttle bit smug about being right.

Gavin, seeing ghosts for the first time: what the fuck...

Toast: told you so :)

Gavin: oh sHUT up!

lol i could see this-

though

this is my first time hearing someone call Gavin's powers "spirit vision" ahdjsjsb (unless thats what shoobaqueen called it and i don't remember) not that its a bad thing bc better than just calling them "fire powers" andjdjw xD/pos

but yeah nice headcanon tho :3/gen

how i see em they barely got to interact enough to have that sort of dispute but it's something i'll keep in mind uwu

[vellaphoria]

hello! 2, 5, or 6 for the ask meme? : D

Thanks for the ask, anon! (questions are from this ask meme) 2. Will you participate in any fandom exchanges or fic challenges, etc?  I really really really want to, but I always seem to either miss the signups for them or forget that they're happening... 6. Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list?

It's 100% a DickTim witcher au >:3c further details in another answer (here)

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

Definitely the Tim comes back wrong fic, now with vampirism XD

The fic is currently 21k long, so this counts as an excerpt, right? right

Forty-two minutes after Tim’s alarm went off, Dick watches him shuffle past the kitchen’s bar counter. It’s five minutes longer than it took him yesterday morning and nine minutes longer than the one before that.

There’s a dull, flat-sounding whump that is almost certainly Tim collapsing onto nearby couch.

Dick gives himself the space of two inhales before he puts aside the peppers he’d been chopping, wiping his hands on a nearby towel.

The area just outside of the kitchen is a moderately large, well-appointed living room. Couches form three sides of a square, with the fourth side being closed off by an unnecessarily large flatscreen.

As he approaches the nearest couch, he sees several of the throw pillows scattered across the floor. Peering over the back of it, he sees Tim lying prone with his face buried in a pillow. There’s a faint groaning sound coming from him.

“How did you sleep?” Dick asks, trying not to sound as hesitant as he feels.

Another groan.

“That well, huh?”

Tim shifts, flopping over onto his back with all the grace of a fish left on the shore. His eyes are still closed, and that makes it harder to ignore how the skin beneath them seems almost translucent, highlighting the veins in his lower eyelids.

“I’m not sure I did,” Tim mutters. “Not for lack of trying…”

His eyes blink open. Today they’re a deep, nearly-luminescent green. The color’s full in a way that the rest of Tim isn’t. Each day, his skin seems a little more pale and his cheeks seem a little more gaunt.

The urge to reach down and stroke the too-defined line of his cheekbone makes itself known in the back of Dick’s mind. But he quashes the thought before it can gain any traction.

“Do you want tea?” he asks. “Coffee? Something else?”

“Breakfast?” Tim asks, sounding hopeful.

“Sure. It’ll be a few minutes though.”

Right on cue, Tim’s stomach rumbles. He rests his hand on it delicately, his expression screwing up a bit.

“Did I hear a delivery person come by earlier?” he asks before Dick can voice the concern that he’s certain is bleeding through his expression.

“Uh, yeah. I sweet-talked Tam into having some more groceries put on the company’s discretionary spending budget.”

How, exactly, Tim heard that from upstairs is anyone’s guess. When Dick had checked in on him before coming down to the kitchen, he’d been sleeping so deeply that he seemed dead to the world.

“Anything good?” Tim asks him, looking hopeful.

“Depends on what you think is good. My current plan is making a mountain of bacon and maybe some toast.”

Tim’s hand finds the back of the couch, curling around it as his fingers dig in hard enough to look nearly bloodless. He uses that grip, plus a hand on the cushions beneath him, to push himself up until he’s sitting.

When he wobbles a little at the top of his arc, Dick puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

Tim narrows his eyes a bit, shaking off the assistance. Stubbornly, he starts to stand. A tremor runs through the muscles of his legs and back. He circles around the couch, walking to the kitchen. He even manages to make it most of the way there before his legs start to give out on him.

Dick rushes to catch him, getting an arm around his back and looping one of Tim’s over his shoulder. The maneuver thankfully keeps Tim from crumpling onto the floor. Its also ends with Tim pressed up against him, his hands flat on Dick’s chest.

His body trembles where it’s pressed against Dick. When he shifts, his breath is warm against Dick’s neck.

Dick’s skin tingles with the feeling of it. Even more so when he feels what might be Tim’s lips brush against him - before Tim is pulling back out of his arms, doing his best to stand on his own.

[dropthedemiurge]

Hi dropthedemiurge,

I am one of your new followers who stumbled onto your blog thanks to your metas for Love for Love's Sake. Thank you so much for them, the cultural and linguistic explanations add another layer to already well crafted show and I would definitely be sorry to miss them.

Talking of cultural differences, there is a thing I noticed in several kdramas and always wanted to find its meaning and didn't know who to ask. Maybe you would know?

When characters are drinking (alcohol) together, after toasting one another, they turn sideways to drink. Is there a cultural reason or meaning to this turn? Where I am from (Europe), we just chug it facing each other, no turning away.

Thank you in advance for answering me!

Hey! You're very welcome (I am also so happy to meet so many new people who are interested in discussing shows and Korean language/culture after Love for Love's Sake), and yes, I absolutely do know what you're talking about!!

Turning away after toasting to drink is truly a cultural thing! It has a lot to do with social & age hierarchy that is very crucial to Korean culture (or tbh, to many Asian countries). At the table you follow some specific rules, for example:

the youngest participant is usually setting the table, grilling the meat and pouring everyone's drinks

if you're drinking with someone older/higher than you, you turn away to drink (which is what you asked about, only the younger ones do it! out of politeness!)

to be polite, you hold the glass/bottle with two hands (or one hand supports your other arm); this is also very typical in grocery stores or anywhere where you need to give someone your bank card/cash/etc

the oldest one usually says toasts (like, the final one, but it depends on the gathering tbh)

Koreans also have a fascinating culture for company drinking and drinking games, I'll just show you a good video that talks about all these cultural differences during drinking, I think you'll find this video interesting! (the drinking starts in the second half of the video)

If you haven't watched Korean Englishman videos, I highly recommend you to! They are really great for showing all those interesting details (and they are also from Europe so you might feel relatable with their reactions :D)

And I'll just post screenshots with some of the rules that they pointed out if you don't have time to watch the video:

Tbh, if you're a foreigner and come to Korea to drink with students, like I did, no one would be scandalized or offended if you don't follow these rules but it's very interesting to exchange your drinking culture internationally and try out new things because Koreans are fascinated when you know some small things that are ingrained in their culture.

Fun fact, my drinking culture (Russian) sometimes clashes with Korean because they pour alcohol to each other mid-air and we shouldn't ever do it :D Also out of habit, I made all my Korean and foreign friends say reasons/speeches for toasts every time we drank because this is what I'm used to and they found it fun xD

Anyway, go watch the video! It's a lot of fun :] And I hope I satisfied your curiosity, now you'll watch dramas and think about this:DD

[bright-side-of-the-moon]

>:(

*thows you to doggo*

*steals yo froggo*

>:)

HEY HEY!! OC INTERACTIONSSS (ft. my mooties) !!!1!

Tyler: Sooooo, like I'm bored. And I don't feel like working on any of my very important schoolwork or my FFA (future farmers of america) CDEs. Jacks: So Farmer boy doesn't wanna farm? Tyler: You get me so well.

Jacks: Mike, I have a question? Mike: Yessss? Jacks: Why does my bed have a landmine the size of a Dutch Baby pancake? Mike, shrugging: I dunno. Jacks: Mike, you're the only one I know affiliated with traps- Mike: -NUH UH!!

Tyler: MIKE. DID YOU TRY KISSING MY BOYFRIEND?! Mike: I was trying to lure them into my trap. Tyler, confused: What trap?- Mike: The trap of my heart :[

Mike is such a sweetie-pie. A man stealer, but a sweetie-pie nonetheless.

Mike, Jacks, Leo, and Nico are sitting on the roof of the Nike cabin Leo: So... Wanna make bird cages the size of two annoying twins of Victory? Mike, already building one: Thought you'd never ask.

Mike: Being gay is so weird. Like, I see a man and go "Daaang, he's hot." But as soon as I go up to one to ask him out, they get weirded out because I attached a fishing hook to their shirt. Connor Stoll, trapped in nets and connected to a comically large fishing rod with a fishing hook attached to his shirt: Can't relate. Mike: So what are you doing this Saturday?

Leo: Hey, Tyler? Can you help me with... a problem? Tyler: Sure, what is- [Cuts to Mike setting up snare traps all around Will's bed]

Hilal, setting up a cooking competition: Hey! Nico? A little help? Nico, currently getting distracted with an extremely dark toad: Huh? Yeah, whatever. In a minute, I have important business to conduct.

Meg, telling Tyler how to move rotten fruits with mind power: So you just- Tyler, throwing a full garbage can at a random camper: Is that how it works? Meg: How was that using your mind??? Tyler: I used my mind to tell my hands to throw the rotten garbage at that camper

And that's all I wanted to do today. I was bored. Also, a little AWOG reference somewhere in here >:)

[who-scrambled-my-ocs]

Eggs

This started as fave egg recipes and devolved into anything involving “egg” XD

Also not everyone’s on here cause some didn’t inspire anything really interesting. I can add if asked B)

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Neora: Living in Arcaelys, the land of the elves, most of her experiences have been with sweet foods and dishes. Beyond cakes and patisserie, she rarely gets variety in egg dishes. She thus doesn’t often cook it for herself and prefers alternatives during breakfast like toast with jams and butters.

However, on her visits to her mother she has often been treated to highly savoury foods like egg curry, egg chatamari, and the highly popular spicy fried boiled eggs which has left her with a nostalgic craving each time she heads back home with her dad. Her dad has occasionally requested herbs in order to make it as the occasional treat for them both during special occasions as she grew up. One of the few Arcaelys raised elves who often eats savoury foods

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Tireal: similar palette to his daughter Neora, if perhaps more elven inclined. Enjoys sweet egg dishes greatly and is less prepared for the spicy dishes his ex-wife prepared for him and their daughter, often being left red faced and wheeze-laughing through tears as his littol girl giggled at his silly face, smiling fond at the chuckles of his former partner

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Evan: Scrambled, he likes to crack the eggs straight in the pan and toss the shells in one swift move, which has been upgraded to Taren the moss-fae-fox snatching em up midair to crunch on as excellent fertiliser for his fur, much to Evan’s amusement.

Evan himself will continue to shake and agitate the eggs until they’re fluffy with light crunchy bits in between, adding some thyme, salt and pepper to the mix. If he’s making breakfast meat with it, he’ll use the oil of that to fry said eggs in

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Sia: Usually sunny side up. But doesn’t even actually like eggs all that much, and has had the existential crises thought of wondering if that’s because she’s technically a Mythical Bird

However that thought was quickly confuddled upon observing little Raspberry absolutely going to town on an egg, pecking and chipping it to smithereens, gulping it down faster than she could think, and then watching Raspberry fly off into the sunrise to build another nest. An experience which has left her with a whirlwind of thoughts about biology, life, magic, her own self, and what it all means in the grand scheme of things despite Fate not existing.

Drowns her sunny side up eggs in cinnamon now so she does not have to go through another existential rabbit hole while eating breakfast with everyone present. Can’t think about eggs when ya can’t taste em. Hehe…

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Felix: An absolute feast at his theìa’s house, scrambled eggs with tomatoes fried in olive oil, oregano, basil and crumbled feta on top. Something he’d devoured in a hurry with his brother and cousins, before rushing out the door to play as his mama and theìa gossiped the hot day away, a full stomach warming his thin frame as dust swirled around his running feet.

Something he took so greatly for granted, as all kids do, and shed tears over when he ate again at his theìa’s house many, many years later. Felix’s soft spot is food, and the feeling of being finally satiated after a meal is a feeling he treasures dearly with every spoonful of delicious kayanas and his theìa fussing over him

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Lucas: Despite appearances, Lucas is as much an excellent cook as his husband is, considering he learned much from him. His literal sea life diet of raw fish and unfortunate human flesh has long been put aside for more, palatable sushi and richer, livelier, Chosen prey.

As thus, he has learned to cook his meals with a patience that is almost reverent as he carefully lowers eggs in perfectly cooked sauce, poaching them to a perfect consistency. Uova All’inferno, Eggs in purgatory in Italian, and yes, he still enjoys gulping them whole with an amused irony at the name as he considers his own nature. But its rich and warm and perfectly done, and he savours every moment of it

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Bruno: Frittata al tartufo, Uova All’inferno, Frittata di zucchine, Deviled eggs, etc etc etc. He’s had so many egg dishes he’s long lost count of all he’s tried, and all he’s made uniquely his own. With so many recipes, one would expect something fancy and rich and over the top to be his favourite, no?

Surprisingly, it’s the simple dish that captures his interest best here. A simple sunny side up, cooked very similar to Lucas’s own purgatory poached eggs, heaped with flavourful ingredients on the side true. But the simple egg yolk is allowed to shine as it practically melts over the rest of the dish, adding a rich flavouring only the basics sometimes can give, being a spotlight on their own.

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Lewis: Easter eggs. As a baker and pattiserier he would often spent countless hours painting food safe dyes onto chocolate eggs, placing a basket up front of his shop for the kids to come and choose one out of.

Had an extra special batch he’d make just for Mairae and her kids, blushing greatly as he offered the sweet strawberry filled treats to the trio and sighing fondly as they left his shop, happy for the rest of the day (but no he definitely wasn’t in love. Definitely not. No no)

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Flint and Rho: Both love a good hard boiled egg, with Flint chomping into it and eventually eating it straight whole as he grows bigger than the egg. Rho will take sweet little bites, and make happy smacks and coos in between each nibble

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Yarrow: Who cares about what Sia and Evan’s deadbeat dad liked? But for lore sake it will be said, he never learned to properly cook. Mooched off his parents spoiling and complained constantly about everything put on his plate to them. “Praised” Mairae highly on her learning how to cook human dishes early in the relationship while simultaneously chipping at her self confidence with passively hurtful comments, knowing full well what he was doing.

Rotten fucking egg through and through

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Juliette: *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

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Denise *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

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Seth: *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

[divinekangaroo]

WIP: a honeymoon fic teaser for @deliciousnutcomputer for such patience :)

tommy x lizzie; drinking/inebriation, friction, very unreliable (drunk) narrator XD

(it might not seem it but this one will have the most terribly sweet ending i can possibly imagine)

Day 1:

5:00 PM: Arrive at Victoria Embankment in London to board the Orient Express. 6:00 PM: Departure from London towards Dover. Enjoy dinner in the dining car. Socialise in the lounge and bar cars.  Live music and conversation. Admire the passing countryside and towns as the train continues its journey. During the evening, compartments will be prepared for sleeping with the seating converted into luxury beds.

*

‘There’s fingerprints.’

Lizzie looked up from her plate. Quail at perfect moistness, green peppercorn. Some kind of broccoli sliced into the thinnest of curls, transparent as if green glass, or a museum’s pressed dissection of a small tree. Never particularly been intrigued by the idea of matching wine to meal, one of those things the upper classes pretended was real but wasn’t just to create another barrier, Lizzie learned otherwise: something about the way the white wine, selected for her meal especially, that made everything taste so much better. Hadn’t been the first sip, but layered, as if taste was something that could build over time, acquired, and she was in the thick of complementary layered bliss on her tongue right now. 

The green-eyed sommelier explained it to her with a masculine grace and an attention she’d felt warmly gratified by, as he’d seemed to recognise instantly Tommy wouldn’t pay attention, and instead poured his French-accented charm onto her instead. She’d listened, rapt, and drank everything he gave her.

As if giving a toast, Tommy raised his tumbler to the burnished chandeliers that gave the dining car such atmosphere, frowning.

‘See?  Fingerprints.’

‘Are they your fingerprints?’

‘Course they’re not mine. Look, there’s specks of dirt in this glass.’

‘Tommy.’

Now he was sniffing the contents. ‘Is this scotch? Taste it for me. They’ve given me scotch. In someone else’s fucking unwashed glass.’

‘Can you please get your glass out of my face—’

‘Where’s this bar car? I’m not taking this.’

How was she supposed to know if he didn’t? ‘Given there’s only two directions you could possibly go, I’m sure you’ll find it.’

Tommy gave her an unreadable look, untucked his chair, and stalked out the back end of the dining car, holding the glass out as if it was some dripping bloody organ. Then he hit his shoulder on the doorframe as he passed and paused to glare at it.  

Lizzie looked at her plate to avoid seeing if he'd start a fight with mostly inanimate architecture. She ate another careful mouthful of quail with a slice of broccoli folded onto the gold fork by way of the gold knife. There were still three forks and three knives on the table next to her plate, and three spoons in different sizes arranged at the top of the gold-rimmed plate. She assumed one set had been for the prawn thing in the glasses Tommy waved away before the waiters could approach their table, which she forgave because a disgust for shellfish couldn’t be argued with; another for the soup course he’d looked at and sent back without checking with her, which she didn’t forgive when she’d not even the chance to see what it was. But she wasn’t sure about the final cutlery set because it wasn’t meant for dessert, was it?  

She'd lost her taste for sweet things, anyway. Now she would never know.

Five minutes later, Tommy crossed through again to exit to the front of the car, still holding the offending glass, giving her a passing frown.

Lizzie looked at his plate, steak with the slightest blush of pink at the centre; she could tell because he’d sliced it thin as the broccoli, precisely, end to end, complaining it wasn’t cooked through, didn’t they know uncooked meat gave people worms or worse, he’d had better from a gutted squirrel at a fucking street stall grilled over charcoal on a stick. He’d pushed all the potatoes off the plate in the process of his slicing, exactly like Charlie at his petulant worst, staining the tablecloth.  

Having drained her glass of impeccably selected white wine staring at his plate, Lizzie waved the waiter over to fill her up again. The couple at the table next to her looked at her, not exactly aghast, but politely puzzled. Possibly you weren’t supposed to click repeatedly at a waiter like that in first class. Possibly you weren’t supposed to even call them. Maybe it was all done through some strange set of social signals no one was allowed to explain, because you had to be born into it. 

No one seemed to stare at Tommy like that no matter what he did, though, so men must have a free pass. Either that or he’d found a better book of etiquette than she ever had and not deigned to share.

‘You might as well leave the bottle. Are you allowed to do that?’

‘Of course, madam.’

‘Ta. Thank you, I mean. Thank you.’

‘At your service, madam.’ From the cow-eyes, he looked like he wanted to kiss the back of her hand. Surely that wasn’t reasonable? Lizzie looked away, slightly disturbed, and the couple at the table across offered her near-identical conciliatory smiles, sweetly, which made her realise they weren’t a couple but rather brother and sister, and that was perhaps an invitation to participate in some of that much lauded social conversation listed on their itinerary.

In the corner of the car, on a small elevated triangular stage, a trio of young violinists set up quietly. Two women with hair piled high in identical crowns-of-braids and one man, dark skinned.  At some unseen cue, they all began to play, ethereal and compelling. Lizzie thought distantly of Charlie’s practice, wondered if he’d keep his attention on it long enough to become this good.  Violins were amazing instruments. Having mostly filled her days and a good few nights of marriage so far with various entertainments now available to her, including orchestral performances, Lizzie had decided violins might be her favourite. Not just because of Charlie, but because even his faltering practice made the instrument sound almost human in some way, even if with him it was more crying than singing. Now, in the hands of masters, the instruments pulled her into another place where baby new potatoes weren’t rocking gently on the tablecloth with the motion of the train.

Frisson, that’s what it was. Lifting her from the mundanity of having endured without comment the now hours-long litany of Mr Thomas Shelby’s complaints of raw steak and dirty glasses and the station queues and the traffic on the way in and how could she forget her fucking passport all while pretending he hadn’t forgotten his and the stupid imperfect and fundamentally flawed itinerary the latest useless office lackey put together for this whole affair, the crammed luggage and the lack of information on the weather that would be awaiting them so they couldn’t even pack clothes properly as if he'd ever wear anything other than a bloody three-piece in public and the time this would take away from important business and she’d better be happy and why France, Lizzie, why fucking France, when he’d been the one who picked it—

Nothing was left in the bottle. Lizzie realised it was late enough the car was nearly empty, offending plate and potatoes cleared, and she was almost liquid in her chair, suddenly conscious of how she must look. Eyes half-lidded, face soft, listening and looking, free hand curled at her chest as if wounded, and a total degradation of posture.

The young violinist caught Lizzie’s eye and winked at her, inclined his head so briefly towards the rear end of the car. A lifted eyebrow, in enquiry and offering. He put an extra little effort into his bow arm, the tilt of his chin, and held her eye in a particularly meaningful way.

‘Do you want to fuck me,’ Lizzie asked the empty chair opposite her, jarring and vicious and in her poshest attempt at the King’s English.

The chair didn’t answer.

Then she went to find the bar car or her bed, whatever showed up first in the grand linear journey that was navigating a train where apparently everyone except for her husband actually did, in fact, want to fuck her, blaming her sway and the nearly-rolled ankle along the way on the motion of the carriage.

[the-crimson]

I did it I made a part 2 XD Find part 1 of my bbh and fed worker fic here

Tw gaslighting, manipulation, psychological torture

Enjoy :D

Warm saccharine sweetness blooms in the workers mouth as it takes a bite of the brownie. It doesn’t think it’s ever had something so fresh. Only day old sandwiches and avocado toast of questionable quality the residents toss their way. But this chocolate infused bread is still steaming and the chocolate chips melted and it swears as it takes another bite, this must be nirvana.

Badboyhalo - the demon - has propped the worker on the bed with cushions while he sits nearby tinkering on the various shredded pieces of its body. Unlike yesterday, the demon chats softly almost with himself. He talks about his day, his friends, his ghosts and only occasionally pauses when prompting the worker’s thoughts on the various dramas of the island. He’s provided a clipboard that sits on the table beside the plate of brownies that the worker scribbles replies without much thought, lost in the euphoria of the pastry.

Badboyhalo doesn’t seem to mind the worker’s distracted state and it couldn’t be more thankful. It hasn’t felt this at ease in… it can’t remember. Perhaps since it was created.

It could laugh at the irony. It’s never been in more peril after all but… it can’t help it. It’s never met a being like this. He's nearly unrecognizable from the horrifying presence that allowed the soul vulture to tear it to shreds.

Cucurucho is cold and callus and predictable. It has its orders and follows them with laser precision but this… Badboyhalo is an enigma. Maybe that’s the difference a soul makes.

“Aah! Hss!” The demon exclaims suddenly and drops the mechanical parts with a loud clang! He grasps his wrist as blue and white soul energy surges beneath his skin and the dark blue tendrils of infection spread. His breath hisses through gritted teeth but the flair subsides and he sighs heavily and releases his hand. The demon observes the odd… corruption? Infection? The worker isn’t sure, with an neigh unreadable expression.

The worker tilts it head slightly, just now noticing the odd growths all across the demon’s body that are mostly hidden by his clothing. Isn’t he supposed to be red?

“Are you okay?” The worker writes after a moment of hesitation.

Badboyhalo glances at the clipboard and gives a loose smirk that is tinged with pain. “All according to plan. Don’t you worry about me.” He picks up the tools and continues mending the mangled arm.

The worker looks closer at the demon’s face and sees the growth creeping on the right side, noticing for the first time the blue tint of his eye. It starts to write something but the demon speaks first.

“How about you? You’ve scarfed down so many brownies I doubt there’ll be any left for me.” Badboyhalo sends a light hearted grin the worker’s way as it freezes for a moment in panic but it breathes a relieved sigh.

“Sorry.” It writes.

The demon gives a light chuckle with that loose smile. “I brought them for you.”

The worker shifts slightly. Why does this demon feel so warm? His presence itself seems to absorb all heat leaving a vacuumus cold but… It doesn’t like how at ease it is around him. If it has learned anything from the federation it’s that no one does anything without reason.

The worker takes a long moment to think before writing “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so kind?”

Badboyhalo reads, then tilts his head with a confused laugh. “What do you mean? It’s the least I can do.”

It’s the worker’s turn to recoil in confusion.

“What?” It writes.

“Well, Cucurucho abandoned you after you were ambushed by the Code so I figured someone should look after you workers. You’ve done so much for us islanders after all.”

WHAT? The worker stares at him on the verge of short circuiting. That’s - that’s not what happened. That’s not anywhere close to what happened.

“You don’t remember? I’m not surprised. I had to build your cranium nearly from scratch just to wake you up.” He chuckles to himself. “I didn’t think I’d manage it but my son is a good teacher… was.” The mirth fades at the memory of his son but the worker isn’t paying attention.

He is lying. He is blatantly lying. He has to be right? It remembers the vulture. It remembers that monster tearing and shredding. It remembers.

“The codes started attacking you workers when it realized it couldn’t defeat Etoiles. You were the first. You really don’t remember?”

The worker stares at the lying snake. It’s not true. It can’t be true.

The worker writes “Stop.” But the demon doesn’t read it.

“You were removing the lava cast at the presidential office. There was only a few blocks left so you stayed overnight while the others took a break.”

“Stop STOP STOP STOP ST” the demon gently takes the worker's hand and holds it still.

“You were alone when it struck. Near midnight. You didn’t notice it until you heard the whistling of its blade but by then it was too late. It hacked away at you again and again until you resembled little more than a pile of scrap metal.”

The demon’s eyes stare intently into the worker as he speaks almost hypnotically and the worker tries to pull its hand away, to look away, but he keeps spinning the story.

“I saw Cucurucho find you. It could have saved you but it didn’t. It left you to die.” His voice softens. “But I didn’t. I brought you somewhere safe. I saved you.”

No you didn’t! You can’t have! You did this to me? The demon’s grip loosens and the worker yanks it’s hand back. The demon looks to the side and gives a faint sneer.

“I have an uninvited visitor.” He growls, voice once again low and dripping with malice. The demon gives the worker a saccharine smile. “I’ll be back. I’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

The worker says nothing, too frightened and confused to move. The demon phases through the bars with a pearl and is gone. The worker looks around at the room - cell this is a cell - until its gaze lands on the platter of sweets. It feels pressure building in its chest as it breathes rapidly and lunges at the platter, throws it across the cell. The plate raps on the bars and clatters to the stone before silence once again settles within the chamber.

No. No he’s lying. He’s a liar. I remember. I REMEMBER. There isn’t- he’s lying. He’s trying to get in my head.

The worker holds itself tightly and rocks slightly, shaking its head. The silence is broken suddenly with the ear splitting shriek of the soul vulture. The worker freezes and slowly turns towards the entrance. The wall remains in place and it is still alone.

No, not again. Not now please.

Another bird squawks and another. They shriek hungrily and the worker covers its head as they audibly tear into flesh. Every scrape against bone and tearing of muscle echoes in the chamber amplified somehow and the worker internally whimpers, curling in on itself and trembling.

STOP! It screams in its mind. PLEASE STOP! But it knows no one can hear and even if he could… the demon knows nothing of mercy.

Cururucho

Anyone

Please

…

Please

…

Help me

[slashingdisneypasta]

Are there any new villians or characters that you are obsessed with?

Hmm, new villains... /: I've mostly been re watching stuff lately, but I do have a list of villains I don't really talk about but really want to!

Here it is! ^^ Bolded ones are the ones I'm REALLY REALLY into XD

Stuntman Mike, Death Proof

Look at him !! I could get lost in writing about a nasty creep like him. I want him to kiss me but I also wanna smack him; I dunno XD

Agent Eddie Zane, Man of the House

He's Bo-age Brian Van Volt (Literally the same year) and his character is a sneaky scoundrel who pretends to be the protagonists friend so he can get close to his daughter (And he calls her doll)- need I say more?? No, I don't think I do. Damnn.

Steve Abnesti, Spiderhead

Not gonna lie, I wanna write some really dark stuff for Steve.

Eleanor, Do Revenge

David Harris/Unknown, The Stepfather 2009

I love this movie so so much!! It always makes me want peanut butter toast, which is a little weird if you've seen the movie. David, though, oooffffff. He's so AWFUL. And he's got this shit under control, and his energy is so soulless, but ohhh boy, when he finally loses it?? I'm so obsessed. This is honestly one of my favourite movies and his character is played perfectly.

Suzie Marie Toller, wild things

MEAN GENIUS. MEAN GENIUS. MEAN GENIUS-

Rusty Nail, Joyride

LakePlacid3!Reba, Lake Placid

Gary Sitterson, Cabin in the Woods

I don't know, there's just something cute about him XD He's not full villain, but I'm very very intrigued.

Helene, Tony, and Becky Le Domas, Ready or Not

Chef Slowick, The Menu

He's so sad, I just wanna give him a cuddle and encourage him to cook at a soup kitchen. He's the kinda character where you just wanna be his favourite person- the only person not expendable to him (Including himself!!).

Chase McKinney, Now You See Me 2

Detective Wayne Bailey/Kirsch, Scream 6

Warwick, Graveyard Shift

Another one I could write some really dark stuff for... :D :D :D Sorry, haha XDD

Alexis Butler and Val, We Summon the Darkness

They're so crazy. I wanna be friends (Or more) with them so badly XD I just love any crazy women in horror movies- we need more crazy women in horror movies. I just love watching them to be gross and terrible, theirs something cathartic about it.

Pearl, X + Pearl

Pelle, Midsommar

Norman Bates, Psycho

Brenda Bates, Urban Legend

Another crazy lady. Rebecca Gayheart just did so amazing as Brenda, and she's so much fun, and just... yeah. I love funny Slashers.

Mulgarath, Spiderwick

Have you heard his voice? Its Nick Nolte.

... Count Olaf... Series of Unfortunate Events

Look, leave me be. He's just so GROSS. I love gross, irredeemable villains that you know the writers really just went 'I am going to make this character so unlikeable'. Truly top tier.

Capricorn, Cockerell and Flatnose, Inkheart

I always thought Cockerell especially was pretty XD Kinda Otis B Driftwood-Style.

Dag, Barnyard

I MEAN?? Ugh. I'm sorry. I know he's a coyote. But he's such a bastard and I love it. He's been a favourite of mine since I was a kid!

Lady Van Tassel and the Hessian, Sleepy Hollow

I know one person especially will be happy to see the Hessian on here- XD

Velma Von Tussle, Hairspray

She's so mean... Agh. Haha XD I wanna write that Wilbur scene in the joke shop with reader in his place XD

The Colonal, Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron

Verosika Mayday, Crimson and Paimon, Helluva Boss

Nathanial Demerest, Wishmaster

The Trapper, Dead By Daylight

T.G. McCabe, S.W.A.T 2003

Little greedy coward that he is... I so wanna write for him XD

Please, anyone, if you're interested in any of these guys please tell me about it!

[jayisanemoig]

panic! at the emo x3 day 4

lol its kinda been awhile, not like anyone reads this to care but i still wanna stay consistent :') anywhoo, my life since my last post has been interesting to say the least. i went to a megadeath concert ig? well we didnt stay for megadeath we just watched the openers cuz ig thats who my lil cousin and aunt went there for. i didnt really know any of the bands i just went as a last minute replacement of my uncle cuz he worked lmao. but it was alright yk. this group of people next to me were tryna get this kid my age ig to flirt with me and it was kinda weird... so that kinda wrecked the vibe most the time. but then after the concert we went to ihop x3 i got french toast w strawberryz x3 <3 and some other side junk that i really didnt want but panicked and ordered anyway x( but it was fun n shtuff.

speaking of concerts... IM SEEING THE USED ON WEDNESDAY!!!!!!!! XDDDDDDD i'm literally so excited i'm gonna rawr xd fr. this is also prob gonna be my first concert alone :000 i'm honestly so excited cuz like omg im so mature and an adult and things tehehehehe. i turn 18 in jan so i'm trying to make those small steps to being prepared for adulting n stuff. i feel like i'm already mostly ready tho. i already am so independent when it comes to most things. money tho, not yet, but that's because of my mother but i'm working on that. anyways. the used. THE USEDDDD. i'm so excited fr im boutta be boppin and hoppin and screamin and dancin. i honestly wanna try so hard to be there right as the doors open cuz i its general admission and i'm tryna be in the PIT. i can't wait to tell yall all about it this is my emo dream x3

also if yall want a reveal of all the concerts ive been to and if u wanna hear me ramble all about them and my experiences lmk cuz i am a loser and i have a lot to say abt concerts cuz they r my permanent hyperfixation <3333