#live carnival: true colors

[comiicii]

Backdrop: Life had been mundane until you met Clark Kent.

Pairing: clark kent x fem!reader

Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors and a little sadness if you’re a sap like me.

A's notes: inspired by ariana grande’s new album eternal sunshine, i’ll be doing a series of one shots based on the songs. they’ll be in no particular order and will be written for other characters but some will be featured more than once if they fit the song i’m writing about. ‘we cant be friends’ has me crying whenever i watch the video and i tear up a lot listening to it so enjoy this train wreck of a story.

Word count: 3.8k

For as long as you could remember, life was nothing special. It wasn’t horrible but you woke up most days simply doing work and trying to advance your career. Your life was mundane and filled with memories of you alone after moving to Metropolis. That was until you met him. Clark Kent. You had bumped into each other on your way into the Daily Planet for an interview. Well, it was actually you bumping into his broad chest and him catching you before you hit the marble floor. The softness in his deep ocean blue eyes were what made your heart do something it had never done. It felt like a pull in your chest that you hadn’t felt before. As if the universe made sense. Once you finally registered his apologies, you came to your senses and tried to apologize for not watching where you were going. Then he smiled. Now your stomach fluttered. That was not something your body usually did when it came to people. After he introduced himself, it was as if the world had color to it again.

It would be an understatement to say that you fell for Clark Kent. You deeply fell for Clark. Words could not express the love you instantly felt for him. And he fell just as hard for you. When he revealed his true identity to you, it only solidified the endless bounty of your love for him since he was willing to trust you with every part of himself that he didn’t share with the rest of the world. Life seemed to finally be worth living and getting up for. Every morning you rose with the sun and slowly forgot about those meek feelings that used to fill your body.

It wasn’t hard for the two of you to make some of the happiest memories together. Your then-apartment had been littered with trinkets that marked your happiest moments with Clark. Like the teddy bear he won for you when he took you to a carnival in his Kansas hometown. Or the homemade picture frame that had a silly selfie Clark took of the two of you while at work. Once you moved in together, the apartment you shared was filled with more memories the two of you made together. As a house warming gift, he presented you with a beautiful pendant necklace with both your birthstones that came together to make a heart. It’s a necklace you wear everyday and became a reminder that someone loved you unconditionally. When he proposed to you atop the ferris wheel, the ring was designed to match the necklace. Your wedding was small and intimate with just friends and family in attendance on the Kent family farm. It was the highlight of your life to be marrying the man of your dreams.

Life wasn’t always perfect with Clark though. Sharing your boyfriend (and eventual husband) with the world was not the easiest task to undertake but when he came home to you, those insecurities subsided. But those pesky feelings still lingered. Feelings of being unwanted and insecurities plagued the back of your mind. Besides, the Daily Planet constantly wrote puff pieces of his alter ego - with a few being written by you. As time passed and the world became more cruel, it became harder to keep those thoughts hidden. Little by little, those insecurities reared their ugly heads that led to some of the lowest of lows in your life since meeting Clark. He didn’t seem to understand why you were feeling as such and justified his work that it was his life’s purpose. And you didn’t seem to understand why he couldn’t empathize with your feelings. You stood by him through thick and thin. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly that came with being Superman. You weren’t perfect either, though. You were an ambitious reporter and were climbing up in your career at the Daily Planet. Your work also came with some ugliness as you advanced in your career. This meant that the two of you were in the spotlight for your work. Two very different spotlights but spotlights nonetheless.

It hit particularly hard the one argument that ensued after he missed your first wedding anniversary. It was an important milestone that you had planned out for weeks. You had made reservations at the restaurant you had your first date on and he didn’t make an appearance until the morning hours of the following day. You had looked like a fool at the restaurant; patrons giving you looks of pity as you sipped on your water and twiddled your thumbs like a fool waiting for him. When he greeted you with a bouquet of lilies - the first drop of uneasiness touched your chest. You weren’t happy to see him. To see his sweet face you’d kissed good morning the morning before. To see his ocean eyes that carried such sincerity because he had broken a promise to you. He could see that he couldn’t avoid a fight with you because you didn’t look at him with love. Your eyes were filled with disappointment. The argument that ensued ended with him leaving for most of the day as you sobbed into your pillow. When he had returned you had awoken only to softly cry yourself to sleep again.

It took two days for the two of you to speak again and work through the argument. You both tried to be more mindful and quickly moved on from the unhappy moment. A part of you was content with the conversation and hopeful for what was to come with Clark. It wasn’t the first fight you two had but it was the first that hurt you so deeply.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the day you had asked for a divorce from Clark. It wasn’t something you planned but it wasn’t something you hadn’t contemplated in the recent year after your third wedding anniversary. It had come out of your mouth after another argument that was going nowhere. You had argued about how you were growing apart - how you had taken time off after planning to go away for a small vacation just the two of you and he wasn’t putting in the effort. He had come home late but it wasn’t because of him being Superman. It was because he worked late with Lois Lane on a story after he had told you that morning he’d be home to go on the trip. You were prepared to forgive him if it was because of his Superman duties but this was the last straw.

You weren’t the jealous type but even at work, it seemed like the two of you barely spoke as the years progressed. He got paired up with Lois for more stories and you didn’t like the sinking twist of your stomach whenever you saw Clark with her. They looked cute together and probably the office assumed he was sleeping with her given how flirty they tended to be (at least she was). The first time he noticed how much it bothered you, he assured you with his words and actions that he felt nothing for the reporter. He went as far as to give you a passionate kiss in the middle of the office, in front of Lois, as you bid him goodbye to go to an interview for a story you were writing. It had made you weak in the knees and you were close to pulling him into the archives room to continue the passion but you simply blushed and told him you loved him with the most love struck smile on your face. That squashed those insecurities for a while until you started noticing how close they’d sit together while brainstorming or how he began to stay later with her to work on a story. You tried not to be the jealous wife but you couldn’t help the green monster that was building on your fears and insecurities. The few times you brought it up afterwards, Clark was dismissive about your feelings. It hurt you. Hurt how little he seemed to care about your feelings.

From there, arguments were becoming more common. Filled with silence or one of you leaving the apartment for some time. It had become common practice to not speak to each other and eventually move on from the argument. You hated that your marriage had come to this point. After the last argument, you had left the apartment this time. You checked into a hotel and went to the bar for a drink. You looked at your ring and a tear ran down your cheek realizing that it didn’t give you hope. It didn’t give you the feeling you were hoping for because deep down, you knew that you couldn’t continue in the marriage if it wasn’t going to be mended. You had run the course of the marriage and it pained you. When you returned two days later, Clark was making lunch for both of you. He was prepared to go on the trip and put the argument behind. Your heart was racing because you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to end something you had hoped would never end but it had to end. You needed to be the one to make Clark realize that the two of you weren’t going to get the happy ending. Not with each other. You were prepared for him to be upset and yell and express every reasonable emotion. When you uttered those terrible words, he simply froze and you could see his heart shatter from the look he gave you because he knew you were going to see the divorce through. The day ended with you packing your things and going back to the hotel, retaining a divorce lawyer and hunting for apartments. You had managed to find a job as a journalist for a small paper and put in your two weeks at the Daily Planet. By the end of it all, all you gave Clark was a letter asking for forgiveness for ending your marriage. Detailing all the love you had for him was genuine and would always remain but that for now, your paths had to separate. You ended the letter acknowledging that the two of you couldn’t be friends but that you’d wait for that day to come. Wait for the day that he’d like you again. You’d wait for his love again.

Clark’s heartbreak was just about close to unbearable as he didn’t pull his punches during missions and even Bruce had to pull him back from time to time. He had clung to that letter you wrote him and cried so hard the day he received it. Beating himself up for letting one of the most important people in his life feel the need to cut ties with him. Letting you feel like you had to end your story together. You weren’t fairing much better. For the first few months, you were crying yourself to sleep almost daily. Life had become mundane and when you thought of Clark, it became sad and lonely. You hated the pain you felt in your chest that had spread to your whole body.

A coworker at your new job had seen how sad you were about your divorce and handed you an ad about Wayne Enterprises having technology that claimed to erase people from your memory. A part of you didn’t think such a thing existed but you knew Bruce wouldn’t build something if it didn’t work. When Bruce Wayne saw your name on the list of possible subjects, he reached out to you. Meaning, he paid a visit at your current apartment that was now closer to Gotham. You had known Bruce through Clark and knew of his alter-ego as well. Batman had actually saved you a few times when you were in Gotham chasing leads and doing interviews. When he first met you, Clark and you had been together for a year and had been invited to one of Bruce’s fancy charity events. He had seen how in love you two were. He hadn’t seen Clark so happy before you came into his life and he could see the adoration you held for the Kryptonian. Clark had even said to him that night that he was going to marry you. It warmed his heart to see how happy you two had made each other in such a short period of time.

You had ironically decided to have the procedure done on what would’ve been your fourth wedding anniversary. You looked down at the box that contained every memory attached to Clark. The receptionist had handed you a clipboard with a waiver to sign; giving Wayne Enterprises permission to move forward with the process. A nurse came out to call your name and you handed her the clipboard. She brought you inside and took the box of your memories. You sat down and took deep breaths, the nurse giving you a few minutes as she left to get he others for the procedure. You looked around at the room, it was meant to look comfortable given the severity of the process. There was a mirror on the wall to your right. You figured it was part of the original room and that maybe on the other side were boxes of other people’s memories.

On the other side of the mirror, Clark stood looking at your nervous self that waited for the technicians to arrive. Bruce had elected to do the procedure himself for his friend after informing him that you had signed up for it yourself. Clark had come in on the same day per Bruce’s request since he figured it was best for it to be done on the same day for the both of you. Clark had come in with a box full of memories connected to you. Pictures that he had of you and different items you had gotten him through the years such as the bracelet you made for him while he was away on a mission with the Justice League. You had put beads with your initials on the bracelet and just like you wore your necklace, he wore his bracelet. The box also contained a picture he had taken of you out on his parent’s farm the weekend he brought you home to meet Ma Kent. The box unsurprisingly contained a great deal of pictures of you that he took. Some silly ones, cute ones, romantic and his most cherished one was at the top of the pile. It was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. Clark had taken it himself with his digital camera he carried everywhere with him. His other favorite picture was one of you under the covers, smiling and looking so peaceful and happy as he took the picture, wearing one of his flannels. It was taken the morning after he proposed to you. You had a picture of Clark in your box that you had taken a few seconds after he took that photo. He didn’t want to put anything in the box and be selfish but he knew for it to work, he had to follow Bruce’s instruction. The one item that wasn’t in the box was the letter you wrote him after your divorce. The one that solidified your parting of ways. He gave the letter to Bruce and told him wished he hadn’t made you feel so hurt that you had to do this.

With that, the billionaire decided to tell his friend that this wasn’t the first time the two of you had gone through this procedure. Two years prior to the two of you meeting, you both had been together for three years and had a great falling out that ended the relationship. It was enough to bring the both of you, at separate times, to him and ask to have your memories of each other erased. Bruce wanted to tell you but the sadness reflected in your eyes was enough to keep his mouth shut. Maybe deep down you knew that this wasn’t the first time you wanted to erase Clark from your life. You loved him so deeply that the only way for life to move forward again, he had to be erased. Clark didn’t realize he was crying as he heard his friend recount the first time you two had come in and watched you play with the pendant necklace he gave you when you moved in together. He still remembers how nervous he was to gift it to you; worried it was not going to be your style. He remembers how his heart leaped when you squealed with joy at the present. His heart felt heavy knowing you still wore the necklace despite being divorced. It was bittersweet hope that maybe you’d be able to try again without having to do this. He wanted to break through the window and beg you not to forget him but he knew that once your mind was made up, you saw it through. So, he sat down and asked Bruce to erase his memories of your relationship. All Clark wanted was for you to be happy. If that meant erasing him, he would learn to live with that.

As you closed your eyes, recounting the countless memories you had made with Clark for the last five years, it was hard to hold back the few tears that wet your cheeks. Your breathing got heavy as Clark disappeared from your life. Your fingers reached for your necklace - the remaining piece of the love you were erasing from your entire being. You looked at the nurses beside you, asking with teary eyes if you could keep just this one memory for yourself. You softly begged them as one nurse held your hand and told you that it was going to be okay, that the process was almost complete. You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes as your fingers cling to the pendant; feeling the final memory of Clark’s ocean eyes fade.

When you opened your eyes again, you were slightly disoriented but greeted with the kind face of the nurse. She asked if you were okay and you smiled. You knew whatever just happened, it worked because there was a lightness in your chest. It felt as though you were brand new. As you stood from the chair, you thanked everyone. Without noticing, Bruce Wayne had come in to the room to congratulate you on the success of the procedure. You thanked the billionaire and went about your day. You took in the crisp afternoon air of Gotham and headed back your apartment. Clark came out the building a few minutes after you.

A few years later, life was certainly different. You had landed a job working for the Gotham Gazette as the lead investigative reporter and had made a name for yourself. You were content with life but there was something missing. At night, you found yourself out on dates that never led anywhere. On the nights where it was particularly bad, you phoned your billionaire friend Bruce Wayne whom you grew closer to in the following years with working at the Gazette. He became a confidant for your woes and wishes of your life. Bruce had come to deeply care about you after you had the procedure. Part of the reason was because Clark asked him to look out for you since he wouldn’t be able to. He couldn’t help to grow close to you because you were that type of soul that brought a warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt since he lost his parents.

Clark had focused on his work in the following years of his procedure. He had struck a relationship with his coworker, Lois Lane. They had been together for three years but it wasn’t working. Mainly because Clark hadn’t felt he could spend his life with her. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious and just about everything he could ask for in a partner but there was something missing. He couldn’t put his finger on it and quite frankly it killed him to continue in a relationship he knew wasn’t going to end in marriage.

Bruce had invited you to his charity event to raise money for the orphaned children of Gotham. He always invited you since he knew it could be good for networking for you and every now and then, you would get a date out of it. Clark and the other Justice League members were in attendance for this event as they knew this was an important cause for Bruce. Clark had just broken up with Lois the week prior and had been sulking, He originally wasn’t going to attend the event but Bruce and the others convinced him that a night out would be good for him.

A couple of hours into the event and you find yourself feeling out of place. Especially with the dress you chose; it was from a thrift shop you had found in Gotham and it had more of a bohemian look to it rather than the posh aura the other attendees wore. Bruce had checked in with you a few times to make sure you were okay; knowing how intense the scene of the Gotham elite could be and assuring you in the process of how beautiful you looked. You found yourself at the bar, grabbing what seemed to be your fifth flute of champagne for the night. Your spacial awareness was starting to go so it wasn’t surprising when you bumped into a large figure at your side, spilling some of your drink on him. You were a mess apologizing to the man. You were expecting him to make fuss but it was a pleasant surprise when you heard him softly chuckling at you. You were flushed with embarrassment but when you stared into the eyes of the man, your heart stopped. Meeting his deep blue eyes spread a warmth the champagne earlier hadn’t achieved. His heart also seemed to stop upon meeting your gaze. Your eyes made him feel like he had finally come home after a long journey of searching.

To continue having you in his presence, he joked that you owed him a dance in order to make up for ever so slightly wetting the sleeve of his navy blue suit. Hearing the slight mischievous tone only made you laugh in agreement, a sound he already found addicting. When he pulled you close to him, you hoped he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating. As you followed his lead, you relaxed and he took the opportunity to ask for your name.

“Y/N.”

“Clark.”

[jumpingjoltiks]

okay so I knoww that the sugar baby talk won the poll, but I'm dying to hear about Emmet's second date. can you please please please post about it anyway, even if its super short? 🙏 I want to smooch him in the ferris wheel

Don't we all, Anon?

This is a little short, and very quickly written, but I hope it satisfies.

Second Chances

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Emmet x Reader (GN)

Warnings: None, just fluff 🤍

~~~

When you tell him on the way to the park that you're a little afraid of riding roller coasters, he offers to let you hold his hand through it. It nearly envelops yours. It's big and warm and comforting - slightly calloused from the hard work of Pokemon care and battling. You find you're not so scared while holding his hand. You spend the rest of the evening holding it and he definitely doesn't complain. He reaches for you about as often as you reach for him.

He lets you play as many of those rigged carnival games as you want too! Emmet's been to the park many times, so by this point he knows which games are rigged and which you have the best chance of winning. He also has a competitive streak, so you'll often end up at two-player games. Even if he does win, he'll still let you pick out and keep the prize.

"That big Joltik plush, please!"

"Verrrry cute. You'll have to share custody with me though."

After games, you both share some faire food together, picking out funnel cakes or fried cookies or whatever else terribly unhealthy but absurdly delicious you want. You'll get powdered sugar all over your shirt, and he'll laugh and say you should wear white more often.

At the end of the day, you end up in the Ferris wheel together while the fireworks go off.

This evening has been so nice. All the anxieties building over the course of the afternoon have melted away with the fun that you've had together. In the back of your mind, you know this is steering dangerously close to a real, actual date - so different from the parties you've attended as their fake partner. No formalities, no performing, no worrying if this night will be "good enough" to keep you around for next time. Tonight, it's just you and Emmet.

He's sitting next to you in the compartment, lit by the colorful flashes of fireworks all around you. His hat is off and he's smiling out at the lights of the city. He always smiles, but this is different. When he turns to look at you, there's a true warmth to his expression you've rarely ever seen. He looks beautiful.

You have a terrible urge to reach up and kiss him, which will totally make you freak out once you get home. But that's a problem for future you. Right now, you want to enjoy this moment without thinking about what it could mean. You cuddle under his arm and watch the show together, holding hands the whole time.

~~~

It's a little embarrassing for Emmet to walk you back to your dingy apartment. Even if he isn't coming inside, you're sure it's a long way off from what he's used to. The building is a bit run down and the grounds aren't clean or well kept. You try to say that he can just send you off in a taxi ("Noooope! The subway is much more efficient. I should know."), but he wants to make sure you get there safely, so he ends up escorting you.

It's sweet, in a chivalrous, old fashioned sort of way. You feel the urge to kiss him rise up in you once more, but before you dare to, you duck through the door with a goodbye and the promise of seeing him again soon.

Now that Emmet knows where you live, he finds himself a little concerned about it. You're not living on the dangerous side of town, but you're not exactly living "well" either. Your apartment is obviously small, even from the outside, and things don't seem well-maintained. If it's like that from the outside, he's deeply concerned about what's hiding on the inside. He wants to barge in and inspect things for himself (you wouldn't mind, right? Just pretend he's not even there!), but Ingo calling on his x-transceiver stops him.

Going in will have to wait. He'll discuss what he's learned tonight with Ingo. Besides, the twins are overdue to have a verrrrry important discussion with you anyway.

What's one more item on the agenda?

[pastel-charm-14]

dear diary,

guess what? my dream of vacationing in the cutest beach house EVER has come true! it's absolutely adorable. the pastel-colored walls, cute little seashell decorations everywhere, and the view? OH MY GOSH, it's like something out of a postcard. every morning, i wake up to the sound of the waves gently crashing on the shore and the smell of the salty ocean air. i can't believe this is my life now!

yesterday, i went on a private cruise around some of the most beautiful lil islands i have ever seen. the water was so clear, i could see all the way to the bottom! the private island we visited was like a hidden paradise—white sandy beaches, palm trees swaying in the breeze, and the most delicious tropical fruit I have ever tasted. i even got to snorkel and see all kinds of colorful fish!

oh, and speaking of the beach, i’ve started learning how to surf! it was a bit tricky at first, but my instructor is super patient and fun. today, i finally managed to stand up on the board and ride a wave all the way to the shore! the feeling of gliding over the water is just indescribable. i can't wait to get even better and maybe even try some tricks soon!

last night, there was a carnival in town! it was so much fun—there were rides, games, and the most amazing food stalls. i had the best time ever eating cotton candy, winning stuffed animals, and riding the ferris wheel. the view from the top was spectacular; you could see the entire beach lit up with colorful lights.

i feel so incredibly grateful and happy with everything that's happening right now. it's like all my dreams are coming true, one by one.

bye bye diary!! i gotta go keep living out my dream life!!

inspired by this post by @pinkpigtailsprincess <3

[randomatthingy]

An observation on The Stranger

Something that I find interesting about The Stranger is its ties to the Circus and Fairs because, in times before the internet, they were a prime feeder of The Stranger. Picture this, you are living in a small town of 20 or so people in the middle of nowhere. You know everyone, everyone knows you. If something happens, you know about it instantly. You can have a perfect interaction with everyone.

Then they come. A group of people from elsewhere. They come, set up shop in Mr. Whatnot's abandoned field, and then open the gates. Strange colors fill your eyes, unknown scents fill your nose, and you partake in activities that you could have never thought of. All the while, the outsiders that opened the circus or fair do activities that should be impossible for people to do. They swallow swords, breathe fire, and their bodies contort in odd manners. They all wore masks and heavy makeup, so you can't tell their true feelings or emotions. You try and talk to them, but theirs something wrong. You don't know them well enough to have meaningful conversations, and what you can learn is but the surface of who they truly are.

Then, after the weekend, they're gone. You'd expect their big top to take down longer, but it doesn't. They're just gone Monday morning. You will probably never see them again, these outsiders, with their strange games and abilities, masks to hide their identities, and unknown personalities are gone, forever. Maybe they come again, maybe another group like them, but it's always different, a little uncanny. If one of their numbers were to come without a mask or makeup, you wouldn't recognize them, and they would have probably worn many different masks and makeup schemes throughout one night, so you couldn't even place them if you had talked to them.

And sometimes, these outsiders would disappear with someone. The blacksmith's son, or the orchard keeper's daughter. Or they give something. Maybe the old miller has a weird plant he likes to burn now, maybe the general store owner's wife now has a cough, not unlike the lion tamer had, and now the doctor has it too. You know this is linked to the strange people from elsewhere that brought the carnival to town, or maybe not. You wouldn't know. You don't even know what one looks like underneath the mask. You didn't spend enough time with them before they left to recognize their voice. If that doesn't scream Stranger, I don't know what will.

[seireitonin]

Any headcanons you have about LJ? I feel like I never see enough about him. 🖤

YES IM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! He’s so underrated and I could talk about him for hours.

🍭LJ Headcannons!!🍭

(They’re gonna be a bit angsty)

Ever since he was abandoned he has a twisted form of love

Wants to understand love and how humans love each other

It makes no sense to him humans hurt each other all the time in relationships and friendships

Has the darkest sense of humor

LJ, Toby and Jeff will make the most evil vile disgusting jokes you’ve ever heard together

Desperately wishes he could be colorful and happy again

When he was in the box he scratched tally marks into the walls of it

He cried every day too

Hasn’t felt true happiness since he became black and white

Killing was the only time he felt a bit happy or anything at all

He wanted to stop and not be like Issac, the one who made him the way he is

But killing for him was like an addiction

He was constantly chasing the high of his next kill

Ironically it was Toby who helped him stop killing children

Toby had killed children before because of the slendermans influence and knew how horrible it made him feel after

Toby trying his best not to be like his dad who was his abuser and the reason Toby became the way he is now inspired Jack to try harder

Or at least focus his anger and bloodlust in a different direction

Jack wanted to stop being like the man who traumatized him too

So he thought about the bigger picture of everything that happened to him

It wasn’t the child Issac who hurt him it was the adults around Issac that failed him

It was adult Issac that failed Jack

So LJ started killing neglectful/ abusive parents

He doesn’t help the kids after though

Still not a fan of them

Sally helped him change too, even if she doesn’t know it

He would never say it to her

But she did

She hated LJ when they first met and she found out he killed children

“You’re just like my uncle”

“No! I’m nothing like him!”

“How? You kill children just like he killed me”

“I…do it for different reasons! It’s not like that!” He justified it to himself

“What makes you any different than him?!”

“I’m not THAT way!”

“A child killer is a child killer! It’s all the same! You’re a monster just like him!”

This was the first time LJ had felt genuine disgust with himself

To be compared to a man like that…

Made him sick. Like isolated himself and breaking stuff in anger sick

He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t.

He would never do that

LJ knew he was awful. But never in that way

That’s what really made him stop killing children

Couldn’t bare being thought of in that way

He tries to be nicer to Sally

She tried to tolerate him more since he’s changed

If the adults around her protected her like they should have, like they should’ve protected Issac, she’d be happy and normal

So would Jack

He sees Sally as his second chance and redemption

So he’ll protect her like she should’ve been protected while she was alive

LJ helps Sally be more trusting of adults at least of him anyway

They help each other heal from their trauma in a way

When he did kill children he would lock them in dark spaces

He was just giving them a taste of how he felt and what he went through

The betrayal in their eyes as he did it fueled him

He projected his anger and sadness into every kill

It’s why they were so brutal and gory

Now that he kills bad adults they’re even more brutal and gory

He smells like a carnival at night time

Sickeningly sweet foods with the perfect temperature summer air that’s how he smells

Use’s British slang from 1800 still

Had to get used to modern language and talking

Not just for this era but for every era he’s lived through

He’s been alive for 200 years after all

LJ is a Victorian goth!!

Not emo (he gets mad when people call him emo)

Because he believes goth fashion is superior

Dresses fancy and camp af

I mean his daily outfit is literally a feathered Shaw and a crop top

Doesn’t care about human things like gender

So he’ll wear what he wants

You can wear whatever you want when no one can kick your ass

Can pull literally anything out of his pockets

I mean ANYTHING

Has so many magical powers it’s crazy

One of the many benefits of being imaginary ig

He’s very loud

Loves attention on him at all times

Probably because he doesn’t want anyone to forget about him

He’s 7 feet tall

Honestly once you get to know him he’s super fun to be around

Unless you hate loud black and white clowns that tell jokes constantly and love pulling pranks

He actually has a 50/50 of masculine and feminine facial features

To appeal to everyone

Him and Jeff get in fights a lot

Mainly because LJ likes to get under his skin

And it pisses Jeff off that it’s super hard, damn near impossible to hurt LJ

Yay being imaginary!

Being around everyone is the closest he’ll ever be to colorful again

When he’s around everyone his eyes turn from silver to deep blue like when he was colorful

In fact his eyes will go that deep blue whenever he’s feeling deep emotions

I guess one of his old functions of friendship meaning everything to him still exists

Still obnoxious and annoying though

But that’s just LJ

An unpredictable, dangerous, murderous, bloodthirsty clown demon

You gotta love him (I know I do)

[ikeromantic]

Ikevamp Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 3

Arthur, Jean, Isaac, Dazai, and Will!

Arthur

"What's this, luv?" Arthur's voice breaks the silence in the parlor as you take down the curtains for washing.

You turn, amused to see his playful grin, but anxious too. He is unpredictable and always such a flirt. "What's what?"

Arthur chuckles, reaching for you. His hands brush your hair aside and tug down the back of your collar. "This. I knew I saw a hint of something."

"Hey! I didn't give you permission to just go -"

"There's a little heart. With wings!" His fingers brush the tattoo on your upper back. "I had no idea you were such a naughty girl, hm?"

"Arthur. I am not naughty. Let go of me?" You don't want him to notice how your pulse races at the touch, or the delighted shiver it sends through you.

He reluctantly releases you, merriment dancing in his eyes. "So how and why did you become a tattooed woman? Please tell me there's some juicy story involving a carnival and too much whisky?"

You roll your eyes. "Absolutely not on both counts. Look -" You clear your throat. "In my time, it's not unusual. Lots of people get them. I got mine after a bad breakup. To symbolize my faith in true love. Because I know it's out there, even if I haven't found it yet."

Arthur grins. "Haven't you? I mean, you do live in the same house as the most desireable-"

"Shut. Up." You let out a sigh, realizing the mansion's playboy writer is not going to take anything seriously. "And go away. I have work to do." You turn back to the curtains, trying to give him a hint.

"Oh, but I can't!" He hugs you from behind, his cheek pressed against yours. "I have to see the whole thing without all those pesky clothes in the way. And oh!" His hands slide up your side, sending a delicious warmth rolling through you. "What if there are more? I need to see all of you, luv. Inspect every inch."

Jean

You take a tumble while helping Jean at his sword shop, and cut your leg. He insists on bandaging you up, and despite your misgivings (does he know how to apply a bandage??), you let him.

As he slides your dress up to see the cut on your leg, he gasps. You realize he must have noticed the tattoo on your thigh. The equal-armed cross done in a delicate, colorful pattern, just for your eyes. Jean leans close, his breath warms your skin.

"Jean? The uh, the cut is a bit lower?" You try to redirect him.

"This mark -" He touches it, first with his fingers then with his palm pressed against your skin. "Where did you get it?"

You take a breath, trying to sort your thoughts with the distraction of his rough palm on your upper thigh. He has absolutely no right to make you feel this way, not when he's completely unaware of your reaction. You want him to let go, and you don't want him to all at once.

"In my country. Why?"

He lets go of you then, a relief and a let-down. Then he tugs down his own shirt to show his shoulder. The tiny cross there is so similar that you gasp. "I got mine after Orleans . . ."

"Well. I mean. It's not - not that unusual?" You feel uncomfortable at the intensity of his violet gaze.

"We are marked. Connected."

Your heart lurches in your chest, thudding against your ribcage. You don't know what to say, and can only nod.

Isaac

You aren't sure why Isaac draws back. You thought the two of you were about to have a moment, but his hot-and-cold behavior always keeps you on your toes. You never know if he wants you to stay or to go away.

"Can I ask you something," he says, his tone full of uncertainty.

"You just did." Your joke doesn't even raise a smile. "Sure. Anything."

"You shouldn't tell people they can ask you anything. They might really do." He sighs, frowns. "I - I noticed something on your arm?" He gestures.

That's when you realize your sleeve slid up enough to reveal the first letter in the words on your forearm. "Oh. Yeah. I have a little quote there." You put your hand over it, remembering the day you got it.

"Why?" His petal-pink eyes are wide and curious, a hint of worry in them.

You shrug, uncomfortable with the attention. "I don't know. I guess . . . I wanted to remember. The quote and what it means to me. Does it bother you?"

He shakes his head after an awkward pause. "No. But. Would you tell me about it?"

His response sends a shooting warmth through your chest and you nod. "Yeah -" The two of you scoot closer as you show him the tattoo, and the story behind it.

Dazai

"Toshiko-san! What's this?" Dazai's teasing voice comes from the window to your room.

You jump in surprise. Afterall, you're on the second floor. "I'm not even going to ask why you're coming in through my window," you sigh.

"Good. Less to explain. Now -" He climbs over the sill and plops down on your floor. "What is that I see on your foot?"

"This?" You show him the tattoo on top of your foot, where SpongeBob and Patrick grin under a cartoon sun. "It's from a TV show I liked."

He grabs your foot, a wide smile on his face. "Tee-vee? Hm. And here I was, thinking my lovely Toshiko-san was secretly mafia."

Will

"I have a query for thee," Will's chin nestled on your shoulder, his hands around your waist. "Pray tell, what is this painted upon thy delicate canvas?" He reached with one hand to stroke your shoulder blade, where your sun-and-moon tattoo was inked.

You shrug, drowsy and not in the mood to explain.

Will nips your neck, sharp teeth grazing your skin lightly. "Thou must answer lest I am forced to request more forcefully. I want to hear the tale."

Awake now, a tremble of anticipation running through your body, you turn in his grasp, or try to.

He laughs and holds you in place. "Ah ah. Release shall not come until you give me what I seek."

You surrender, mostly because it feels good to be snuggled in his arms. "I got them in college. I was thinking about the duality of nature - how nothing is as simple as it looks and . . . I don't know. I like the symbolism." It's hard to put into words but you try.

After a moment, he nods. "I see." He kisses your etched skin. "I wonder if I might spin a tragedy 'round a mark such as this. Though thine is more fair and deserves a better fate. Perhaps then, a comedy?"

Laughing, you finally turn to face him and place a kiss to his upturned lips. "You are impossible," you sigh."

[ai-musclebound]

> Antonio's story <

In the alleys of Venice lived Antonio. He was of slender build, with a face so unremarkable that it faded into the crowd. Yet, he possessed a special inheritance: a magical Venetian carnival mask, passed down through generations in his family.

On her deathbed, his mother had handed him the mask, cautioning him to use it wisely. "It holds great power. But be careful, for not everything we wish for brings us the happiness we seek." The mask had the ability to transform the wearer into the person they wished to be – but only as long as they wore it.

When Carnival came, Antonio saw his opportunity. Surrounded by merriment and colorful costumes, he could wear the mask without fear of ridicule. He longed for a muscular physique – and the mask granted his wish. Antonio became a figure of imposing stature, drawing looks of admiration. For brief nights, he felt powerful, desired, visible.

But with Ash Wednesday, the magic of Carnival faded, and Antonio found himself once again in his slender form. Memories of admiration and attention as a muscular man haunted him. He yearned for more, for a life where he wasn't invisible.

Eventually, in July – completely outside of Carnival – Antonio donned the mask again. He went to Piazza San Marco and began performing as a street artist. Day after day, he transformed into the muscular man he desired to be, becoming an attraction for tourists, proudly displaying his muscles and posing for photos. Over time, he continued to build his muscles, attracting larger crowds of onlookers.

But as Antonio lived in the mask, his heart began to suffer under the weight of his dual existence. He realized that neither of his personas could form true connections or find love. Behind the mask of the muscle man was now a confident yet hollow character, unable – both literally and metaphorically – to remove the mask. His true self – the slender, invisible young man – stood alone before the mirror every evening, disappointed in what he saw and who he was.

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 7

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 7

His human came home that evening slightly late, but absolutely elated. Loki felt his heart swell to nearly bursting when he saw your smile. You breezed in and immediately lifted him and kissed him on the nose, then snuggled him close and kissed his velvety head.

“Oh, Loki. I've had such an amazing day!” you said flitting around, putting groceries away and kicking off your heels, nearly dancing with joy. “Mr. Mullen called me to his office and he's giving me a chance! He even apologized for being such an ass before.”

Good, Loki thought with a devious smirk. I guess he does value being in one piece.

He watched as you stroked the lovely purple cardigan then reluctantly took it off, placed it on a hanger, and smoothed out the delicate fabric with care.

Sweet mortal! Loki thought, You needn't be so careful with it. It's not some great treasure...just a token. I would get you hundreds of them, one for every day of the year, in every color. I would see that you never feel cold again.

But then he remembered the kind of creature you are, grateful for everything, expecting nothing, treating every good thing, person, and gift as something precious. He watched as you took a professional outfit out of a Mullen's Department Store bag and laid it out on the sofa. The crisp new fabric of the pencil skirt was a sharp contrast to the threadbare upholstery.

“Well Loki, what do you think? I've never had to buy office clothes before. I'm not sure about it but Tammy helped me pick it out.”

“Meow”. I approve! Very classy...but you'd look so much lovelier in an Asgardian court gown with a crown upon your head. That would be more befitting your beauty.

His human chuckled, and seemed to only understand his affirmation. “Thank you. I'm so glad you like it. I have a feeling you have great taste,” you said as you massaged between his ears until he purred with satisfaction. Sitting, you gathered him more closely into your arms, meeting his lovely, rare eyes and said, “You know...ever since I found you, everything has gotten better. I mean...not just the good luck of a promotion and meeting Henry. Just...you make every day better. I was so alone before. Thank you, little kitten. You're so important to me.”

You stroked his back and all he could do was purr as he floated on your praise. He had never felt such sheer pleasure from bringing joy to another being. Loki had also rarely ever been praised for anything either...mostly told to shut up or stop. He was ecstatic, bursting at the seams. He longed to reveal himself to you and finally ask you to spend your lives together on a grand adventure, but how could he? How would you believe him? How would you take it?

Come on, Loki ,he encouraged himself, you're the god of mischief. Scheming is what you do. Do it for a glorious purpose this time.

Patience was never his favorite thing, but he was determined to try it for his sweet human. The younger prince of Asgard felt an unusual pang of anxiety. Loki rarely faced anything in his long life that presented a true challenge or obstacle; but here it was before him. You were worth it, he decided. For you, and only you, he would find a way.

----

That weekend you didn't receive a call from Henry. You did, however receive a letter in your mailbox in that same lovely handwriting on green and gold paper.

Darling,

I know there is Fall Carnival is this weekend at that lovely orchard outside of town, and I have never attended such an event before. Would you be my date for the day? Meet me in front of your building at 3 pm on Saturday and we'll have a splendid day together.

Sincerely,

Henry

Reading the note, you couldn't help smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. What an odd man! Sending courtly letters instead of calling like a normal person. It was incredibly charming, though; idiosyncratic in a way that inclined you to trust him. You guessed he wasn't so perfectly confident after all, if phone calls scared him. You couldn't blame him though. They scared you too.

So on Saturday, just before 3 pm, you kissed the little cat goodbye, then swung out the door in the one nice pair of jeans you owned and a sturdy raincoat, excitement and anticipation crackling through your bloodstream.

----

Loki's irrepressible Cheshire cat grin unfurled across his face as he turned to see you hurrying toward your front door. You couldn't believe how handsome 'Henry' he looked; like an English country gentlemen, with his perfectly coordinated leather boots and coat. Evaluating your own ratty hiking boots and dated parka you felt like slinking away in embarrassment, but it was far too late for that.

Still, he kissed your hand like a princess and said, “Darling! Thank you for joining me today. You look absolutely lovely!”

“Henry...I look like I'm going hiking...and possibly like I'm living in a tent. I feel terribly under-dressed next to you.”

He looked genuinely concerned for a moment. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious. I'm sure we'll be equally muddy by the end of the day, in any case,” he paused, looking deeply into your eyes, “and I'm sure you look lovely in anything at all.”

“You, sir, are dangerously charming,” you quipped, scrunching your nose in that adorable way you often did. You couldn't know how the little habit always made him fall to pieces.

---

At the orchard the carnival rides were in full frenzied swing. The hundreds of multi-color bulbs painted swaths of pulsing color around the makeshift amusement park and further into the fields beyond. The rusty omnipresent hue of old machinery blended into the natural coppery-colored remainders of autumn foliage. You walked through the crowd, each holding cups of warm cider and talking between languid steps and steamy sips.

“You know, in all the years I've lived here,” you said, “I've never come to this carnival. Thank you for giving me a nudge to do it.”

“My absolute pleasure,” he assured you. “I've never been here either.”

You just observed his lovely patrician face for a moment until he finally noticed and said, “What is it?”

You grinned and stopped in your tracks, “Uh...nothing...it's nothing...just. You seem like some kind of incredibly fairytale prince...the way you talk, and your fine clothes and gifts and...and leaving letters instead of calling. How did you know my address, by the way?”

“Ah...well...Janet helped me out with that one. She said it was very romantic and was happy to be in on it,” he said with a shy grin.

You chuckled knowingly, “Well it is, and you are incredibly disarming, but you already know that. And she's still so young. Her whole world revolves around romance. Life hasn't taken that from her yet. I hope it doesn't.”

You both continued walking but he tilted his head to observe you. Some unspoken sadness flickered across your face; some history of aching rejection he had yet to discern. It was a scar, and he wanted to kiss it.

“What? Don't you think romance makes life worth living?”

You scoffed at him, assuming he was being sarcastic, but his eyes were completely innocent and sincere. “Well...I don't know. I never counted on it or looked for it. There were always more practical concerns. I figured if I told myself I didn't want or need it, it wouldn't hurt so much to never have it.” You shrugged. “It just always seemed like something meant for other people, not me. So I looked for joy and meaning in everything else,” you said looking around thoughtfully, “...in kindness, in the things I get excited about learning, in the small beautiful parts of life. Even on the bad days I try not to take anything for granted.”

“Wow,” he said, “are you some kind of saint?”

You raised and eyebrow at him and said, “I assure you. I'm far from it.” And I'd like to show you personally how far from it I could be, you thought and then pushed it away just as quickly.

“I have sad and weak and angry days. I have days where I want to scream and jump out of my fucking window. I often feel alone and...different. I wonder what's wrong with me that I don't let anyone get too close.”

He considered this. “ You are different, and it's wonderful.” He realize he was staring. It was making you uncomfortable, so he changed tact slightly, reorganizing his thoughts. “Well, it's no great mystery, right? You've dealt with being hurt and disregarded by the people who were supposed to love you. That's a deep wound, and now your impulse is to survive...but maybe...just maybe, you could thrive while you're at it?”

You gave him a cautious grin, “That's a lovely thought...here's to hoping. I haven't felt hope for awhile, but it's making an appearance lately,” you said, toasting his your little paper cup with his and downing the last sips of your hot cider. When you both drained your cups, you were surprised to see Henry suddenly crumple his cup, throw it to the ground, and shout “Another!”. He quickly realized from the startled faces around him that his Asgardian gesture of appreciation must not be a universal one. “Oh,” he said with a chuckle, picking up the little cup; throwing it and yours into the garbage can. “I'm terribly sorry! Force of habit...it's a Scandinavian thing.”

You giggled a musical irrepressible laugh, and he felt himself go weak under its spell. He wanted to hear you laugh like that as often as possible. You pointed a finger against his firm chest stepped slightly closer, so the icy clouds of your breath mingled in the crisp air, “You are a delightfully odd man, Henry. I like you. I...I really like you,” you said, making eye contact. He met your gaze so intensely that you forgot to breathe. His hand curled around yours resting it against the soft leather of his coat. “I like you too, darling. So...so much. I know it's cliché and makes me sound utterly insane but I feel so comfortable with you...like I was meant to know you my whole life.”

You were stunned for a moment; partially because you felt entirely the same way, and partially because that did sound utterly insane. While your mind struggled to wrap around what he had just said, he massaged your hand gently and exclaimed, “My god! Darling, you're absolutely frozen. I should get you some gloves next time.” He untied his large wine-red scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around yours, then bundled your hands carefully in the draping ends.

Loki longed to kiss you in that moment. He wanted to kiss you so badly it ached within him every moment he didn't, but he found he couldn't, which puzzled him. He had never had any hesitation with kissing anyone before. Loki had never known the experience of nervousness or self-consciousness in romance...until now.

Why! He shouted within his mind You idiot, why aren't you kissing her right now?

Then a smaller voice within his mind piped up; an uncertain voice of his younger more insecure self, Because, what if I don't deserve her?

You were disappointed. He could see it clearly in your eyes. You wanted it just as much as he did, and the liminal silent tension was wearing on your both.

You couldn't bring yourself to initiate a kiss he might not want, so instead you wrapped your arms around his lanky waist and snuggled into his chest affectionately, whispering a simple “thank you”. Loki paused for a moment, stunned by the gesture, amazed to have you in his arms. Suddenly he gripped you very tightly, as if afraid you might drift away like a perfect dream upon waking. He felt a tear roll down his cheek in the icy air, first warm and then cool against his skin as he enjoyed the weight of you against him, close to him.

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger

[spysbabygirl]

First Date

-This is my first fanfic in years I may make these later-

Scout 

Scout takes you to a chicken place-

He knows the best place for a bucket of fried chicken and the best deals.-

After eating, he sticks some straws in his nose and makes walrus noises to make you laugh.-

And to finish the date off he takes you out to get ice cream.-

Demoman 

Demoman would take you to a beer garden-

Everything is fun with beer being passed around and music blasting-

Till Demo and you get so drunk you, both get into fights and get banned from the beer garden.-

You both leave stumbling and singing your way back to the base.-

Heavy

Heavy takes you to a ballet show of Swanlake.-

He even got the box seats but it was later revealed only because those were the only seats he could fit in.-

Heavy wanted to show you that there's a softer side to him.-

When he watches you can see how invested and his appreciation for the art is. -

As you watch on you can feel a chill and then the warmth of a suit jacket being placed on you by heavy himself.-

Spy

Spy would take you to the fanciest place he can take you even if it means flying you both out of town.-

He would set up everything to be perfect even the red dress he picked out for you.-

After eating a steak dinner paired with red wine you both have a sweet slice of chocolate cake.-

Once the dinner is done and paid for you watch the night stars cuddled up together.

Engi

Engi would take you to the best BBQ in town as live music plays.-

You both had the best-pulled pork sandvich that's soaked in grease and BBQ sauce.-

As live music plays and bellies are full of food you go do some line dancing together.-

After some line dancing you start to have some cold beers.-

And to end the date he plays his guitar and serenades you back at the base.-

Soldier

Soldier takes you to the zoo.-

As you both are walking to see the animals he's quoting Sun Tzu but it didn't sound quite right.-

Once you get to the lions he starts telling one of his war stories.-

He finished one of his war stories and to prove it was all true he jumps over the railing and fights the lions.-

You take him back to the base so the medic can tend to his wounds as you tell him how strong and proud you are of him.-

Sniper

Sniper would pack a picnic.-

He packed what is assumed was Sandvitch's and what was once cold beers.-

You and Sniper sat down and decided against eating and just drank the lukewarm beers.-

It was the perfect spot the woods were glowing as the sun set came down.-

With a beer in hand, you cuddle up to Sniper and take a deep breath and you both relax for the first time.-

Pyro

Pyro takes you to the carnival.-

You both binge on sugary sweets and watch a ton of the small shows they hold.

Pyro wanted to go to the bumper cars they just don't know how aggressive they are being.-

You decide to take them to the horse carousel Pyro takes a horse with pink hair and colorful flowers as you take a f/c themed horse right next to them.-

Pyro wanted to win you a prize but he was sad when all he could win you was a mini plush balloonicorn key chain but once he saw how happy it made you his cheerful self was back.-

Medic

Medic takes you to an 1800s  medical museum.-

You both watch the first amputee surgery video ever recorded.-

He admired the old medical tools that were used saying things like "I could use somesinglike zis in my collecthion. "-

While slightly more educated and traumatized from the date he does buy you an atomically correct heart necklace from the gift shop.-

-Sorry for my bad writing for a German accent.-

[drtyelvisfantasy]

Coney Island Baby🛼🍦 ౨ৎ

Parings: Elvis Presley x reader

*50s Elvis

Summary: You and Elvis spend a romantic night at Coney Island. With thrilling rides, carnival games, and beautiful beach sunset. With your love blossoming under the Coney Island lights

Song for fic: Coney Island Baby- The Excellents

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the boardwalk, you and Elvis strolled hand in hand, your laughter intertwined with the sounds of crashing waves and bustling crowds. The air was filled with a contagious energy, the scent of cotton candy and salty sea breeze, as the two of you made your way through the vibrant Coney Island.

"Y'know, darlin', I've always wanted to take someone special to Coney Island," Elvis grinned, his charming blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I can't think of anyone more special than you."

Heat rushed up to your checks as you blushed, feeling your heart flutter at the sincere sweetness in Elvis's voice. "I'm so lucky to be here with you, Elvis. It's like a dream come true."

Elvis chuckled, his voice filled with genuine affection. "Well, let's make this dream unforgettable, sugar."

You and Elvis approached a colorful booth, adorned with various stuffed animals and prizes that seemed almost impossible to win. You had your eye on a particular stuffed bear, the bear was huge and was pink with white hearts. You begged Elvis to win it for you, you even threatened him with tears just to get the stuffed bear. Elvis confidently stepped up, ready to take on the challenge. He picked up a few rings and aimed them at the bottles, his concentration evident on his face.

With each successful toss, you clapped and cheered, your eyes shining with pride for your talented boyfriend. Elvis's determination paid off as he won a large pink and white teddy bear, which he immediately presented it two you with a playful wink.

"Here you go, sweetheart," Elvis chuckled, holding out the bear. "Now you'll always have something to remind you of this magical night."

You hugged the teddy bear tightly, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. "Thank you, Elvis. I'll cherish it forever."

With prizes in hand, the two of you meandered through the park, enjoying thrilling rides and indulging in delicious carnival snacks. You couldn't help but giggle as Elvis challenged you to a friendly water gun game, your laughters echoing through the air as the two playfully sprayed each other.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Elvis led you towards the sandy beach. The two found a cozy spot and settled down, your toes buried in the soft sand. Elvis wrapped his arm around the your shoulders, pulling you close as the both of you gazed out at the breathtaking view.

"Even with all the fame and fortune, moments like these with you are what truly matters," Elvis murmured, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Just being able to share these simple, beautiful moments—it's what makes life worth living."

You snuggled closer, resting your head on Elvis's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I feel the same way, Elvis. It's the genuine connection we have that makes everything else fade away."

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipped lower, casting a radiant glow that painted the world in warm hues. It was in these quiet moments that your love truly flourished, an unspoken understanding and affection binding the two of you together.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, Elvis pressed a tender kiss against your forehead. "I love you, darlin'. Thank you for being a part of my life."

Your heart swelled with love, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you too, Elvis. Thank you for showing me a love I never thought possible."

With the backdrop of Coney Island's twinkling lights and the rhythmic sound of the waves, the both of you continued to revel in each other's presence, cherishing the memories you both had created on this enchanting date.

Together, you both knew that no matter what the future held, your love would always be as timeless as the memories you shared under the Coney Island lights.

[neon-chemicals]

Lets Talk Purplebloods 1/?

Okay! Hello everyone I wanted to take a minute to talk about my personal lore for Purplebloods! I have crafted a pyramid of their hierarchy and today we will be focused on the top two sections!

CW: Mention of Sex and Drugs!

The Messiahs

There are two deities in the religion most clowns follow. They are referred to mostly as a duo but there are subsections of the religion that worship or put forward more effort into one or the other.

They are represented most prominently by the Comedy and Tragedy masks, these are considered a religious symbol, alongside bicycle horns, bells, the spectrum of blood colors and traditional jester caps. A modernized way of representing the masks among most younger generations  is the :o) and :o( emoticons. Colors prominently associated with them are; black, gold, purple, white, and red. Most followers can be found sporting one or more of these colors. 

The separate entities are called many things, moreso representing concepts but these are the most common names

Mirth, Comedy, Sock, Hilarity and The One who Grins

Mayhem, Tragedy, Buskin, Fracas, and The One who Brings Blood

The balance between both messiahs is critical to the universe as a whole, a push and pull, yin and yang. The relationship between the entities is unknown and the representation of it has ebbed and flowed with time, where most sects or even individuals have their own views. Commonly they are considered: 

Enemies, locked in eternal combat

Lovers, in a constant state of ecstasy

Siblings, shifting between friendly and aggressive

One Being, Split in two and forever just out of reach of the other

The Messiahs are said to reside in a place referred to as The Dark Carnival, where righteous purplebloods who follow them faithfully will be brought when they pass on. In religious texts, it is often described as being brought into true enlightenment, peace and wholeness, set adrift on a carousel into the blackness of eternity, into The Messiahs’ domain of nothing but pure ecstasy and reverence. A nonstop carnival on the dark edges of the Universe.

The Messiahs are also worshiped in many different ways, the consumption of Faygo, snorting of Special Stardust and an indulgence in all things deep fried are common, representing the gifts The Messiahs themselves bestowed to the first purplebloods. Blood sacrifice is also widely practiced by most sects of the religion, in a quest to paint the walls of their holy sites with the entire spectrum of blood. Crumbling ruins on Alternia, destroyed in wars of the past show evidence that quite a few churches back in the day had the whole spectrum on their walls, but now the only remaining church to hold all twelve colors is on Karnival*.

Acts of community are a very normal form of reverence, purplebloods tend to stick together and help each other out in times of need, referencing how The Messiahs need to work in tandem to keep the balance. Purplebloods establish Carnivals, Circuses and Boardwalks all to stay close and live in a state of constant worship, performing for each other as much as for the messiahs,  just as their ancestors did. 

Sex and physical intimacy is a lesser spoken of but still widely practiced kind of prayer, either through quadrants, friends or congregations, working together to achieve a state of ecstasy exemplifies what The Messiahs want from their worshippers. Orgies and Swinging are typical especially off planet, but it is mostly limited to purples with other purples, or the occasional faithful of a different hue.

The Messiahs are also responsible for the tradition of face paint, used to mimic the patterns the first purples saw on the visages of The Messiahs when they were originally visited. There is an intense and delicate process of designing and applying your face paint, it is done very young, when wrigglers are without outside influence. They are provided with an assortment of 3 objects and depending on which ones they are drawn too three different scenarios occur: 

They are given their first palette and instructed to follow their soul when applying, this is when they select the object associated with individuality

They are sat in front of the Harlequin of their church and the Harlequin asks The Messiahs for a pattern, painting what they see on the wriggler, this is when they select the object representing spirituality

They are instructed to paint the pattern of their ancestor on their face, which have all been documented tediously by Ringmasters, this is when they select the object representing tradition

To be seen without your facepaint after your design is chosen is considered taboo and sacrilegious for anyone outside of long standing quadrants, select members of your congregation and is forgiven under situations involving external circumstances. However, only you should apply your paint, it is a prayer in the beginning of the day to paint on your design, and outside of outstanding circumstances, such as injuries or a disability, only you should be doing it. Letting someone, even a quadrant apply it, is considered absolutely abhorrent and an affront to The Messiahs, in some churches this is even a cullable offense.

The Messiahs are also responsible for selecting a Grand Highblood’s potential successor, there are many signs involved that show a troll’s potential to embody their word, and leaders everywhere are always on the lookout for a member showing the signs:

Mirthful disposition as a wriggler, but with an inherent talent for violence with their bare hands

An interest in the ancient texts and words directly from The Messiahs

Visions when consuming Stardust

Their vibes are just good

Selecting the wrong successor can often spell trouble for that era of the church, and set the very universe off kilter. A challenger however, is an element of spontaneity that The Messiahs greatly approve of, no matter the individual.

*Karnival is a colony that is specifically for Purplebloods, this will be elaborated on in a further post

Still with me? Well up next we have the good ol clope (Clown Pope)

The Grand Highblood

The Grand Highblood is the head of the entire religion, the clown pope, if you will. They can be appointed in one of three ways:

Traditional succession, a successor is chosen and trained for the position by the acting Grand Highblood

Traditional challenge, a purple who believes they will be a better Grand Highblood asks for a duel with the acting one, hand to hand, to the death, the winner claims the title. If the acting Grand Highblood refuses the challenge their position is forfeit.

In the rare event a Grand Highblood dies without a successor, or both the challenger and acting Grand Highblood die from injuries related to the duel, the next Grand Highblood is chosen via Nose Goes

Nose Goes is an ancient instinct baked into purplebloods as a whole through their inherent psychic connection via chucklevoodoos, when The Grand Highblood dies, within the next 24 hours if a successor is not appointed, all purplebloods above the age of 9 sweeps receive a psychic ping, notifying them of the start of Nose Goes, the last troll to touch their nose, is then the acting Grand Highblood.

The duties of a Grand Highblood are extensive,  tedious and exhausting, leading to many attempting to find a successor quickly to pawn off duties or retire faster. Their duties include but are not limited too:

Presiding over important court cases

Selecting new jesters if one dies without an appointed heir

Serving as a liaison between the monarchy and the church

Representing the values of the church 

Preaching the good word during holy days

Being responsible for organization and allocation of funds and festivities

The most comprehensive surviving documentation about Grand Highbloods lists about 10 trolls that have ever properly held the position, they are as follows from oldest to newest:

Spauld Keivie ‘The Foremost’

Avener Poppov ‘The Demoniac’

Grocki Telini ‘The Balanced’

Zennie Farvex ‘The Funereal’

Kurloz Makara ‘The Mirthful’

Grimal Vester ‘The Reticent’

Ivanar Patera ‘The Ruthless’

Brunhi Dotler ‘The Bloodied’

Quinad Disour ‘The Jubilant’

Sigmar Patera ‘The Stalwart’

Each Grand Highblood held the position for an average of 10,000 years, though some lasted longer or were much shorter lived than others.

A Grand Highblood can be removed from the position and replaced with a temporary counsel consisting of the four jesters in the event of an impeachment. An impeachment is required when The Grand Highblood isn’t performing to satisfaction and the four jesters agree to try them for their lack of action/attention/faith. All four jesters need to unanimously agree to the trial for it to proceed, an impeachment has never been considered for any Grand Highblood until Sigmar Patera*.

*This boy has featured and will feature further in @/stellarparallaxcomic check us out!

-

Well! that was a lot, hopefully you enjoyed reading my ramblings, I'll post the next part when its all finished up! Thanks!

[romances-not-tragedies]

A historical romance about a female detective set in the Philippines during the 1920s?! *Flings open chair and sits down* Please tell me more about her or the story. I'm like 😍 right now.

Hellooo there! Thank you so much for the ask!

So yes, a lady detective who goes by the name of Clarisse Berenguer, is operating in the city of Manila in the middle of the American occupation dispensing justice like every private detective does, spouting some French since she's lived in France for almost a decade before returning sailing back to Manila to seek justice for those who had been wronged in her past life pursue detective work there. She carries a small revolver and a knife with her. She lives as a boarder at a house somewhere at Sta. Cruz, Manila, with a former Carnival Queen as a fellow boarder and sort of a friend and the residents, her landlady and the landlady's lawyer son and niece (who owns a building where she runs a bookshop and our detective runs her business at the second floor of the building). Oh, and she mostly wears black and other somber-colored (or black-adjacent colors) clothing because...she can (and a dash of pink if she can get away with it). Oh, and her cheek has a scar.

And is a cat mom to a black cat she named Minuit.

In the story, she saves the life of a bar owner (who is scarred and hot) who later hires her for a case she wants that one she cannot refuse. Complications ensue, some sparks, and secrets and lies abound surrounding her true identity and the bar owner's. Are they connected in the past or not? Hmmm...

Oh, and did I also mention it is set in the American-occupied Manila? Politics was quite a mess, a mess I tell you!

It is still a WIP since I am quite a busy bugger thanks to my daytime job, but I try to write it regardless.

[timkarr]

William Eggleston, from the series Troubled Waters, about which Lauren Ross writes: "Perhaps the true horror of Troubled Waters is this: Through the medium of photography, Eggleston demonstrates that people will not forget what they have seen. He has captured more fully than we thought possible the way we are, the way we live. Not the narratives we tell ourselves or the edited versions we offer up for others, but the real proof of our lives. The empty gas station at twilight, the freezer jammed and not defrosted, the carnival lights wrapped around the green trunk of an electrical tower—undeniably our stuff, and undeniably human. Perhaps, through Eggleston, we see our worlds more fully than we ever imagined, ever wished. Our worlds are not rendered in black and white, a filter that can easily elevate, lend itself to a flattery as our flaws are concealed amidst the high contrast, the shadow. Here, our worlds are shaped in all their color, a saturated view of what it means to be human, worlds in which we may feel together yet alone."

[yakuzacanons]

Greetings! Ishin! Request time! Having a secret date night during Tanabata festival with Okita Soji, Nagakura Shinpachi and, if possible, Todo Heisuke 🌸 🎐 🍡 Thank you!

Oooo Ishin time. I had to do some research on the festival first as I didn't know much about it and it was quite fascinating. Headcanons below da cut, thanks again for ur patience while I recover from da sickness.

Okita Soji (Majima Goro)

Out of all the Shinsengumi, Okita is the king of sneaking out. Also the king of sneaking people in, honestly. It doesn't matter how many times he does it, he gets a kick out it each time. It's baffling that he doesn't ever get caught given how giggly it all makes him.

Okita would rather die than miss out on a festival date, especially a secret one when he's actually supposed to be at Shinsengumi headquarters sleeping like a respectable commanding officer. He practically came flying over the fence, his coat fluttering in the wind and his eye wild with anticipation.

He intends to make the most of the night with you so you guys will be doing a little bit of everything. Okita's the kind of guy who wants to drink in the sights, sounds, and smells. No carnival game is too childish for him to try, no drink shall be turned down.

He pretends to not care here nor there about the wish writing tradition but secretly he actually does hope his wish comes true. Type of guy to make a big deal out of making sure you don't see what wish he writes only to turn around and immediately say something like "So whaddya write on your wish?".

Okita's energy during the festival is bursting, almost fox-like. He's eager to do it all but he's by no means rushing you. You'll return to the outskirts of the Shinsengumi headquarters before daybreak, your stomach and heart equally full. He'll give you a swift kiss before bounding over the wall and slipping away into the morning.

Nagakura Shinpachi (Saejima Taiga)

Unlike his sworn brother, he's not one for dramatically scaling the walls. He'll simply slip out of a side door during a changing of the guard. His movements and initial greetings are nearly silent but the further the two of you get from the headquarters and the closer you get to the festival, he becomes more lively.

Nagakura is quite reverent of festivals and never forgets any of the traditions. If you've never been before, he's the perfect guide and will make sure you have the best experience. What he enjoys most is just the feeling of being in the crowd, just another normal guy in the festival and not a Shinsengumi officer on duty.

He has his own kind of rhythm during the festival: first a bite to eat and a drink, then a couple of games, and once he's a little more sober, wish writing. His pace is easy going but steady, his smile laidback but sincere.

During wish writing, it's quite adorable to see the hulking silhouette of Nagakura hunched over a small piece of paper, writing intently. The two of you will hang your wishes from the bamboo tree with smiles on your faces.

Always a gentleman, Nagakura will walk you home before heading back to headquarters. He'll press a tender kiss against your forehead before turning away and walking briskly back to headquarters, the rising sun starting to shine against his back.

Todo Heisuke (Tianyou Zhao)

By the time you arrive at the Shinsengumi headquarter, Todo is already standing outside leaning against a wall, casually waiting. It's not that you're late; he was just excited to see you and slipped out early to wait for you. He greets you with a casual wave and smile.

Out of all the boys, he dresses the most festively. His outfit was carefully selected a few days in advance, but he wouldn't actually admit that he was THAT excited about it. He blends in perfectly with the colorful decorations.

Always a sucker for a tasty meal, Todo's first and primary goal is to get something tasty from a food stall. He loves nothing more than sharing a special meal with you. It's all his treat, of course. He shows love with food.

Will participate in carnival games if asked but mostly likes to sit back and watch the chaos of the young kids playing. His vibe is the most chill and the least chaotic. He treats the wish writing tradition with great reverence, saying things like "We get one wish, so let's make it count, okay?".

He'd walk you home, taking the long route back as he wants to spend as much time with you as possible and he doesn't really want the night to end. He leaves you with a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug, waiting to make sure you get inside okay. If you look out your window, you'll see him waving goodbye with a smile on his face before turning and walking away with a spring in his step.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

𝕺𝖓 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘

Note: I wrote this years ago when I was thinking about the concept of lust and found it today. ʚ♡ɞ

Never forget that we,

Like kittens at their yarn, pursue.

And when you chased the fairies down,

The goblin kings and dwarven crowns,

By hyacinths and in brittle aspen’s highest bough,

Where reckless kittens after little moths pursue, pursue,

What did you want to do?

Simply to know, by trembling caress,

That finds its halting way or makes its sudden trespass,

Either way breathless until

The scent of honeyed morn on yonder hill

Or sweat that tastes like spice of foreign fears, labors and loves unknown in these tame parts,

Finds lungs that shudder, winglike, in your breast,

Drives them through sprouting shoulder blades, through cardiac arrest,

Endowed with the levitation of power,

And do you reach? You do not know yourself, you cannot guess,

It has you now, desire,

That freckle-starred and fair,

That hair like cotton candy sunrise spins,

Or lace confection veil of a mourning bride,

Silver, pastel, carnival prize to win,

Blonde, angelic, to be buried in.

What do you wish?

To keep a jar, possess and tint in cola colored washes,

To own, to keep and make stay, to have to hold, and by this holding, see?

To use, to break? To be

Swallowed in a cloud?

Buried, with another body as your shroud?

What do bodies want,

To cherishingly crush the fragile, squeeze the darkly adored

Into powder, strike them like a chord,

And into a lightning storm release,

Follow the butchered ghost into the blaze,

Frenzied, to feast?

To taste the fleshy candy, sugared meat,

Were they of pomegranate blood and hot fondue, or did they proffer you

Sweatmeats beyond compare,

Fresh chestnuts where

Hearts beat in margination of a caramelized desperation,

Or,

Abandoning all metaphor,

Did you wish to fuck nymphs, happily kidnapped,

Too gentle and pure for your insatiable greed to stain,

That turn instead your insides gold and hollow from the loin and rot the veins?

Or did you wish to pay with your own cum and your own name,

Make wild love to twisted, pulsing horns while forked tongue lapped your thighs and spat a salted flame?

Did you wish to be bound and stolen,

Abandon all remembering and enter a slumbering,

Where ten thousand days unfold as handmaiden,

Desperate, adoring slave, rose laden,

To be kept in crystal, bell jars and castles in the stars,

To flail against the bars,

And then be broken, marred,

Into a better shape, to be reborn?

To cook sumptuous feasts from glamour and the air,

In gilded cages, warm, waxy drops of amber, and paralysis of fairy kiss,

Beneath the soil, be preened and wed to kings in amber halls,

Bewitched, resisting, to unearthly bliss,

Nun to a peerless, brutal, Pagan creature-god of beauty awful to behold,

Our lord the devil in her harlequin and gold,

Or, by bacchanalia rhapsody of lithe and lively riverdanse macabre,

Know his catlike motion and her deftness with a moonlight woven knife,

Its sting,

To die, impaled on his maple lily wings,

To walk hand in hand with one you cannot understand, and then to understand

A vivid moral compass, spinning, spinning in the depths,

And yet always pointing true,

For it always points the way desired by you.

Didn’t you wish,

To know your own soul’s lavish price,

To know what things

Lie beyond man’s kingdom and be given these,

Be given to these?

What happiness

And misery exist

Beyond even what exists -

The evils that we can imagine if we wish to be

Happy

Flailing ever forward into deeper reaches of paradox fantasy,

Where love’s most bitter, lashing embers stir,

Never to return,

Ever to pursue...

Think: if you caught a fairy,

What did you want to do?

And did you want to catch him, did you want her to catch you?

[1genofficial]

Spread the Light Campaign: #HappyHappyDiwali

Celebrating Diwali with Purpose

In the heart of every festival lies a profound purpose – to bring people together, to celebrate life, and to spread joy. At 1GEN, we believe that Diwali, the festival of lights, offers us a unique opportunity to do just that, but on a scale that transcends our immediate surroundings. This is why, year after year, we embark on our "Spread the Light" campaign, a heartfelt initiative that seeks to illuminate lives far beyond the reach of our diyas.

Our purpose for this campaign is to share a deeper connection, understand why kindness matters, and help others experience a Diwali full of joy and light.

The Spread the Light campaign, marked with our signature hashtag #HappyHappyDiwali, is 1GEN’s annual initiative focused on harnessing the spirit of giving. As a crowdfunding effort, it is designed to bring people together for a shared cause: to brighten lives by building hope and spreading happiness.

The Dance of Three Flames

As the poet within us whispers:

First light dances in children's eyes

As Diwali Mela dreams touch the skies

Second light through Empower Vision glows

As clarity and hope together flows

The third light, Umeed Ka Diya burns bright

Where wisdom's hearts dance in festive light

Three flames unite in purpose true:

When we light others, we light up too ✨

Why do we do this?

The answer lies in the very essence of Diwali itself. This festival reminds us that light always triumphs over darkness, and that hope can flourish even in the most challenging times.

At 1GEN, we believe every kind act creates a ripple effect, bringing more warmth and light into the world. Our mission is to foster communities where compassion is the foundation, and we aim to rally givers who feel this sense of purpose. Together, we create a network of hope that stretches across generations and communities.

Our journey with Spread the Light isn’t just about raising funds; it’s about inspiring others to see the power of collective action. For us, helping others during Diwali isn’t enough unless we’re driven by the why. Each year, we ask ourselves, "Why is this important to us?" This reflection fuels our dedication and reminds us that kindness truly is the light in all our lives.

A Journey of Impact

The past years have taught us that impact isn't just measured in numbers, though our achievements tell a compelling story:

₹138,024 raised (3x our initial seed money)

70 women supported with sustainable solutions

Countless nutritious meals provided, three times a day

Hundreds of smiles brightened

Thousands of moments created

But these figures, impressive as they may be, only scratch the surface of our true impact. The real story lies in the transformations we've witnessed – the spark in a child's eye when they realise they're not forgotten, the quiet dignity in an elder's smile when they feel valued, the renewed hope when clear vision brings the world back into focus.

Looking Forward: The 2024 Vision

This year, our ELEMENT Leadership program candidates have crafted three powerful initiatives that embody our core belief: that light multiplies when shared. Through the Diwali Mela, Empower Vision, and Umeed Ka Diya, we're not just organizing events – we're creating spaces where:

Joy finds its home

Hope gets a new perspective

Wisdom meets warmth

This year, 1GEN has initiated three campaigns designed to transform lives with compassion and hope:

Diwali Mela at an Orphanage in Chandigarh Imagine a carnival where every game wins a smile, where every moment creates a memory. Our Diwali Mela isn't just an event – it's a canvas where children paint their dreams with colors of joy.

Empower Vision Campaign in Pune When someone sees the world clearly for the first time, their eyes light up with possibilities. Through Empower Vision, we're creating moments where clarity meets celebration, where every new perspective brings fresh wonder.

Diwali Celebration at an Old Age Home in Delhi In the warm glow of Umeed Ka Diya, stories come alive. Our elderly wisdom-keepers share tales that bridge generations, creating connections that illuminate hearts.

The 1GEN Way: Unity in Purpose

What makes the Spread The Light campaign uniquely 1GEN is our approach to impact. We see it as a community. Every team member, every participant, and every supporter is part of a larger story of transformation.

Our success isn't measured in donations or numbers alone, but in the lasting connections we build, the dignity we preserve, and the joy we create together. Because at 1GEN, we understand that true impact comes not from helping down, but from lifting up – together.

Why We Light These Diyas

At 1GEN, Spread The Light (STL) isn't just a campaign – it's our way of living the true spirit of Diwali. We believe that joy multiplies when shared, that light grows stronger when passed on, and that celebrations become meaningful when they touch lives.

Our ELEMENT teams pour their hearts into these initiatives because they understand: that when we light up others' lives, our own inner light burns brighter. It's about creating a circle of joy where giving and receiving become one.

Join Us in Spreading the Light

Looking Forward

This Diwali, we invite you to be part of this continuing story of light. Whether you're organizing activities, sharing skills, or simply spreading joy, your light matters. Because at 1GEN, we believe that true celebration lies not in the brightness of our lamps, but in the warmth of our collective spirit.

Be the Light This Diwali

Ready to be part of this illuminating journey? ➡️ [Know More] ➡️ [Support]

Together, let's make this Diwali truly Happy Happy for everyone. ✨

#SpreadTheLight2024 #HappyHappyDiwali #1GENImpact