#so i am stoked for these shelves

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

An aunt from the States is visiting this week and she brought some gifts for me, which is ten bone china teacups and a couple shelves that are specifically for displaying teacups 😍 the part of my soul that is a 70-year-old lady is very happy this week

[snail-day]

Oh, there's such a lack of yandere nerd!gojo content out in the world. He'd be such a freaking loser dragging his poor lab partner back to his stupidly large apartment that his parents bought him (trust fund kids, am I right?) The poor son of a bitch pushes up his glasses for what has to be the fifth time in the last minute, his fingers shaking just enough to smudge the lenses. He would normally take the time to clean them. After all, this is a very special moment. However, his focus is locked entirely on you, pupils blown wide with exhilaration, his face burning hot.

He’s finally alone with you.

A free hand hovers over yours, the way a scientist might hesitate before handling a delicate, precious agar sample. But you’re not just any experiment. You’re his.

"Oh - oh, wow, you’re shaking," Gojo breathes out, voice nearly cracking from how much he’s holding back. A large, pathetic grin wobbles, too eager and lovesick. "That’s… ahhh, you probably think that’s bad, huh? But - !" Letting out a breathless, giddy laugh, barely able to contain himself. "But it’s not! It’s just your fight-or-flight response kicking in! Isn’t that amazing? It’s just pure biology - adrenaline, cortisol, your nervous system firing on all cylinders - " cutting himself off with another shaky inhale, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, he’s really trying to collect himself (and failing, he's pretty sure he came in his pants).

"You don’t actually have to be afraid, though," he continues, voice softer now, "Because I’d never, ever hurt you! Never! I mean, scientifically speaking, fear is just your body misinterpreting stimuli, and that’s kind of tragic, don’t you think?" Bright blue manic eyes flicker over you, adoringly, like you’re a rare phenomenon he’s lucky enough to witness firsthand. "Because I love you. God, I love you so much. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?"

His fingers twitch, and then finally, he touches you. Just barely. A featherlight brush of his fingertips against the back of your hand, and he shudders like you’ve just sent a shock straight through him.

"Warm," he mutters, almost to himself. "Oh wow, you’re so warm." That pretty face of his is practically glowing red now, and he laughs, high, nervous, like he can’t believe this is actually happening. "I always - I always thought about this, you know? Back in class? How your skin might feel? I - I tried to calculate it once, based on average human body temperature and external environmental factors, but- but actually feeling it is so much better!"

His voice cracks at the end, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling a half-sob, half-laugh. His glasses slide down again. He shoves them up with a clumsy knuckle, barely able to hold himself together.

The room is a mess of his obsessions, shelves packed with manga, figurines lined up like tiny sentinels, textbooks, and loose papers stacked in towers on his desk Complex chemical equations scrawled across a whiteboard, some of them crossing into territory you can’t even begin to understand.

One of them looks… medical. With dosages sprawled out within the Navier-Stokes equation.

Gojo’s long, pale fingers he laces over yours, and oh how his entire body shudders again, like he’s barely restraining himself from pulling you into his arms. "You - you have no idea how much I adore you," voice trembling. "I mean, did you know your hair shines under fluorescent lighting? I wrote a whole equation trying to determine the way light refracts off the strands. And the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking? I- I started doing it too, just to feel closer to you - though studies show - it's like really bad for your teeth so - we should - should stop that bad habit - ah "

His other hand moves suddenly, reaching for something on the desk. A glint of silver. Your breath stutters between soft sobs.

When did he get a syringe? Wasn't he just professing his undying love for you?

Gojo blinks, as if he just remembered he was holding it. Then he lets out another one of those nervous, giddy laughs, clutching the syringe close to his chest like it’s something precious. "Oh - this? Ahaha, you - ah, you weren’t supposed to see that yet! I was gonna - " He bites his lip, gaze flickering between the syringe and you like he’s debating something. "I mean, it’s nothing bad! Just a little - just a little help! A tiny, tiny chemical nudge to help you relax! I measured everything perfectly, I promise! You can trust me! "

And oh are you starting to cry even more which causes him to freak out just a little more... "L-Let’s start over," small stammers as his manic smile widening. "I-I’ll explain it all again! In even more detail! Ohhh, you’re gonna love this!"

[jealousmartini]

STUFF I CANT WAIT FOR IN MY MHA DR .𖥔˚🎀

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

⤷ a bit of FYI

Because I am shifting to my dr during the end of the 2nd school year, I will have already found vigilante Deku with the rest of class 1A, won the war arc against my own personal nemesis, and had my awesome quirk awakening. It's also 5 days before Bakugo's birthday in my dr AND it's the weekend (Friday) so I dont have to worry about patrolling or homework when i literally just got there! So it's free time!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

... Super stoked for!

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing my entire appearance!

Not even gonna lie to yall.. I am SO stupidly fine in all of my mha drs actually. But specifically talking about my main mha dr, I literally am so gorgeous. My body is so undoubtedly bomb, my face card is fire, my hair so tea.. no wonder so many people are down bad for me. I know for sure the first thing I'll do when I shift is stare at my reflection, tracing my curves and all.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Wearing my hero costume, using my quirks and my gadgets

My hero costume is so iconic. It's like a mecha space suit centered around a cunty corset with big ass chunky boots like uraraka, a pair of bug eye looking goggles and a mecha headset with antenna. The space theme is fitting for my for my quirk, and my Twilight sparkle ahh hair.

My magnetism quirk is so much fun dude. I can make anything attract, retract or rotate to or from me, and manipulate it to mimic telekinesis. Uraraka wannabe yeah yeah I know but it's unique enough for it to be it's own thing. Using it creatively is gonna be a blast too!

In my dr, I am a pro at creating gadgets, weapons, and upgrading preexisting gear. I work in both the hero and the support course so my class mates get the best of both worlds cus they've got a mini Tony stark in their class. I even got the spare keys to the utility support room.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Hanging out in my dorm room, the dormitory and my best friends rooms

I made slight tweaks to the design of the dormitory, the rooms are a bit bigger and it isn't just green and yellow ew. Also the class rooms in the UA building have big ass windows to the left, the tables can fit 2-3 students and the rooms aren't a cold blue hue anymore.

My room is perfectly customised to my personality, my likes, my needs and all that stuff. I've got my entire pinterest closet in my wardrobe, my makeup, my trinkets and my gadgets on my tables and shelves. The walls are decorated in anime, game and movie posters, drawings and sketches of my gadget plans and polaroid pictures of my family, friends and classmates. My room has a colour pallet of pinks, burgundys and cream with dimly lit off white and orange accent lights. It's very homly, very comforting.

I also have a mini fridge, a ceiling fan and a two screen computer in my room. Each floor has bathrooms and shower rooms of their own. I'm on the same level as Momo, Ochaco, Kirishima and Katsuki. My most visited rooms are Uraraka's, Mina's Katsuki's, Deku's and Kirishima's. I like to welcome myself and relax on their beds. Sometimes I bicker, most times I gossip with them and actually more than most times, they visit me more than I do them. I can't wait to casually hang out with them, go out to eat, go on trips with them, especially since I'm part of "Baku squad"

And btw he dormitory has robot maids and floor cleaners that do most of the cleaning around the building, including the washing in the kitchen.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| The FOOOOOOD

See we've got some bomb ass cooks in our class already, me being one of them ironically enough. But we are actually allowed to order takeaway to the dorms. The house rules are that you shouldn't order food past curfew but most of the time, Aizawa doesn't notice so I do it anyway.

There is also a shopping center close to campus and some convenience stores with my fave foods and stuff I've always wanted to try like tteokbokki, pho, seafood boil, ramen stew all that good stuff🫠🫠

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing my crushes: Katsuki, Uraraka, Sero and Kirishima

Lord. I can't even say too much because I love these idiots so much UGHHHHH. I've got casual crushes of Uraraka, Sero and Kirishima but good GOD I am down bad for Katsuki.

I've scripted that me and Spikes end up together in the middle of the 3rd year but it's initiated by... ME. Yeah that's right bitch I scripted I grew a pair of balls and asked him out😝. I know it's pretty basic for an mha shifter to have cactsuki as their s/o but yall don't get him the way I do and I seriously don't care. I stood on business and pulled that bitch like my quirk was on. Period

I will admit tho Katsuki intimidates so bad but like in a good way. I love an intimidating, scary but funny, brash, stern babe. Like come here and kiss me but also don't cus ill run away.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| THE FAN EDITS, FICTION, GIFTS AND ART

Yall already know as shifters how exciting fan stuff are. Not a day goes by when Im not daydraming about the edits especially. I can't wait to see what my fans are up to, react to their edits, fanfiction, gifts and art on live stream. I scripted my fans are super creative and most of them ship me with people I actually like🤭🤭

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Going patrolling with my bbygirls

I'm so excited to use my quirk in action especially when I've already had my quirk awakening. I scripted I can formulate and act out plans perfectly and quickly. I also scripted most patrols are fun, relaxing, exciting or interesting. I'm always learning something new, meeting new people, going new places and growing bonds with my team mates.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Streaming and being featured on popular streams

One of my hobbies is streaming/vlogging/blogging. I have been recording my experiences as a student in UA and a hero since the beginning and I've got a big following that catch up with me every now and then. I use two different cameras; a high quality one and an early 2000s digital hand cam to make it look like I'm in 2006. I do a lot of eat with mes, I gossip, I do study with mes I draw and anime a lot and I also do gaming as well because I am the biggest game geek.

I'm also pretty siked to appear on popular Streamer lives like kai cenat and Speed. The interviewers are going to be so entertaining since I'm just a British girl talking about my experiences as a British student in Japan and the amount of culture shocks ive gotten.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing me in Horikoshi's art

Fun thing I scripted. Horikoshi made a manga of class 1A which is literally MHA but I'm in it this time. Idk how this is going to work but I thought this would be sick.

Speaking of art I am an artist in my dr too. I've got stacks apon stacks of notebooks filled with me and my friends, even my hw has little doodles in the corner. I'm very excited to draw my friends, myself, my favourite medias in my many art styles onto tiktok and tumblr and they actually get views😩.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Exploring Japan

And lastly exploring Japan has been one of my biggest dreams since forever. To explore the country with my favourite friends or just by myself in the day or night is a dream come true. The peaceful nature of it all motivates me to go walking every now and then. It is such a beautiful place.

[ch5rr1]

Eltingville club OC

her name is Stephanie and she is 17, she loves clothes, music, and comics and all that basic stuff

read ALT text for character design description

more info + lore + rant below

She loves writing smut and reading, particularly comics and dark literature. She also draws a lot, her backpack being filled with art supplies, notebooks, and comic books. she’d definitely be a fujoshi if she knew about the big bright world of BL lol

Because I love Jerry Stokes so much obviously this will be oc x canon with him!!! I’ve come up with the origins on how they met off the top of my head and it goes something like this:

Stephanie goes to the comic book shop (disguised with baggy clothes and a hoodie over her head to avoid harassment by the boys considering she is a chick) with the intention of seeing— maybe even stealing— any new stuff that may have been put up on the shelves and wtv.

She doesn’t go there often to not risk detection, so she’s always fascinated by the things she sees in there (like she is with everything honestly). she bumps right into Jerry becuz she is distracted, and they apologize and talk for a while.

Jerry is retarded (because he is blonde) so it takes Stephanie pulling down her hoodie outside the comic shop for him to realize she’s a chick and he gets nervous and dips lmao but Stephanie really likes him so she kind of just follows him whenever she spots him. Neither have confessed to the other yet.

yesss ok that’s the lore but I may edit if I want to make any changes (if anyone cares I’ll also post if I make any updates so ppl know)

Out of every OC I’ve made for a show, this is probably the one I’ve projected onto the least. Usually they’d be white with red(ish) hair but this one is neither of those things and I’m glad I finally broke free from that cage and I can make my ocs their own person lmao (although her fashion is definitely projected onto from me)

note that I am FULLY AWARE she looks weird for her timeline but I could not care less because she’s just a fanmade character in a fictional comic so I don’t wanna hear any complaints. She dresses and expresses herself how she wants and if she doesn’t look 90’s enough then it sucks 2 suck. I’ll still match her interests with the time the comic takes place tho

I also hate drawing in this art style so I cannot guarantee you’ll see her looking like this very often but who knows?

This song is definitely her I feel like



[smut-anarchy]

Own Me - Prologue

Summary: You accidentally broke a priceless relic and got caught. The Slytherin heir himself, Mattheo Riddle, makes it simple: you do what he says and no one finds out; the catch is, he owns you now and he'll do whatever he wants with your mind... and your body.

Tags: Dubious Consent, Dom!Mattheo, Gryffandor!Reader, Cursing, Blackmail (More Tags Later)

Rewritten As Of: 12/26/2024

Word Count: 1,917 Words

A/N: Years ago I watched Ouran High School Host Club (iykyk) and then this past weekend I finished the amazing @iniquitousyearning (formerly @slytherinslut0) Beg For Me Series (seriously go read it) and I was totally inspired by the two, thus Own Me was born! I've never written smut before so be patient with me. All my love and I hope you enjoy! XOXO - Angel

This was such a stupid fucking way to die.

Okay, maybe you wouldn’t go that far. But as a Gryffindor, sneaking into the Slytherin common was still one of the worst things you could do, right along with standing under the Whomping Willow blindfolded or wandering into the nearby Acromantula den. Yet still, you were here, stupidly, because Daphne Greengrass had taken your wand. 

“Little mudblood lions who don’t know their place don’t get their wands. I think it’ll look great collecting dust in one of the Slytherin vases.”

Bitch. One could argue that prior to her theft of your wand you had been stoking the fires of her ire by callings her an “inbred wretch in pearls with the intelligence of a toadstool” though you’d found her more than deserving after catching her picking on a small group of second years. I mean seriously, what kind of asshole picks on a bunch of twelve year olds?

So now, here you were, sticking your face through every fucking vase in the Slytherin common room, desperately searching for your wand before any Slytherin happened upon you. Dinner in the great hall would only last another twenty minutes so if you didn’t find it in the next ten minutes your only options were to somehow hide from every Slytherin until everyone was asleep and search then or leave and tell Snape, and telling Snape meant house points deductions and surely some ridicule and detentions. Between the options of hell no and fuck no your panic was rising, making you feel jittery and unbearably stressed. Why the fuck does Slytherin have this many vases in their common room?! They don’t even have flowers! 

There was only one vase left, it had to be in there, unless Daphne was a liar, which wasn’t completely off the table either. Regrettably, it was the largest vase, towering a good foot above your head. It was jade green, with intricate gold details, and for whatever reason it seemed to give off an ominous feeling, as if it was watching you. With how tall the vase was you had no idea how you were going to get your wand out, but the clock was ticking and you only had about two minutes before you absolutely had to get out of there or risk being found. If my wand is in there I am going to hex the shit out of Daphne.

The vase sat between a bookcase and the fireplace, so as carefully as you could you used the bookshelves to leverage yourself up just enough to peek into the vase. And there, at the bottom of the vase was your wand. Climbing further up the shelves and using the stone mantle to support your body, you lowered your top half into the vase, stretching your arms in an attempt at reaching your wand. You were nowhere near being able to reach your wand, so you figured you could slip in further, grab your wand, and then use the fireplace and bookcase to pull yourself out. Good plan!

Using a small amount of force to propel your lower half from the book case you clumsily tumbled into the large vase, your body folding in half at the bottom of the vase. Unfortunately, due to your focus you neglected to hear the click of the common room door opening. 

Your body’s ungracious fall in the vase rocked it back and forth, swirling you and your wand at the bottom, before it tipped too far right and toppled to the ground, shattering it and releasing you and your wand. 

Your head was still dazed from your plunge into the vase, but you opened your eyes to behold your wand in front of you. 

“Fuck yes! I did it!” You cheered. Although a hollow victory, since you destroyed a Slytherin vase, but you’d promised to reparo it before you left and no one would be the wiser.

No one, that is except the owners of the eyes on you. You’d looked to your right and there, sitting stunned on the common room couches were the worst five people who could have witnessed you: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Enzo Berkshire, Theo Nott and Mattheo Riddle. 

Fuck. 

Not one word was uttered. You looked between the shocked boys, you were in direct line of the door. If you’d went around the couches they’d surely grab you or have time to get in front of you and stop you, but if you went right down the middle, using the table between them to leap off you’d make it to the door and sprint so far away before they’d have time to catch you.

No time to think about logistics you’d lept up, grabbing your wand and ran towards them, leaping on the table and dashing across the surface, using the end to spring towards the door. 

“Oh no you don’t! Incarcerous!” 

While you were mid-air ropes wrapped around your legs and wrists, bringing you dropping to the ground with a painful “oof”. 

You rolled over, seeing Draco as the caster of the spell, wearing a smug grin on his face.

“Hey boys,” you squeaked, “This is all just a misunderstanding! Let me out of these ropes and we could talk, yeah?”

“I forget, do misunderstandings usually have the accused running away from their crime?” Theo questioned amusingly, his face holding an interested smirk.

“Listen, one of your housemates stole my wand and threw it in there and I was just trying to get it back, okay? I didn’t mean to break it and I would’ve repaired it and slipped out before anyone knew I was here.” You attempted to shimmy your wrists out of the ropes but to no avail, their tightness giving you a slight chaffing burn on your delicate skin. 

The boys stared at you puzzled, before jeering smiles cracked onto their faces and they burst into rowdy laughter. 

“You have no idea what you broke, do you little lion?” Enzo teased, his eyes alight with mischief and cruel enjoyment.

Their laughter and amusement was stirring an unsetting feeling in your gut. These boys had a reputation of being completely sadistic to those who crossed them, having them mock you was filling you with unease and panic. You shook your head at them, trying to display a neutral reaction to their taunts. 

“You broke an enchanted vase, lion. It can’t be repaired.” Blaise snickered.

Oh no. Fuck. Fuckitty Fuck.

You called upon all of your strength to not let your dread show. You steeled your mouth into a hard line and glared your eyes. 

“Okay fine, so I broke an ugly, big, magical vase. I’m sorry. Can I please leave now?”

Enzo and Draco were laughing in full on howls now, with Blaise and Theo sniggering to each other, sharing silent jokes between themselves. You made eye contact with Mattheo, who oddly had not said a word and was not sounding his hilarity like the others. His face held a mocking sneer, but his eyes, those obsidian black calculating eyes, stared at you, as if he was curious of this lion who had wandered into their viper den.

“You don’t sound sorry.” His voice cracked through the laughter, the other boys sounds dying out at his voice. 

“It wasn’t intentional and like I said, I was here because my wand was stolen and I-“

“Funny you should say that,” he interrupted, the edge in his voice seeping into your bones like ice, “I’m sure not a single Slytherin would admit to doing such a thing. So really, all we know for sure is that you broke into our common room and broke a thousands of years old enchanted relic from Salazar Slytherin.”

Your mouth dried up, anxiety going haywire throughout your body. On the one hand, your pride did not want to apologize to this absolutely smug, antagonistic Slytherin group, especially since it wasn’t your fault you were here to begin with. On the other hand, you broke a priceless, unfixable treasure from the fucking founder of Slytherin, if Snape found out he’d take you to Dumbledore, you would get expelled. 

A cold sweat covered your body, fear clawing your throat and your eyes building up water. “I-I didn’t know, I swear. I would never sneak in here to do something like that on purpose. Please, I’ll do anything to make up for it.”

Mattheo’s intense gaze twitched in interest, “Anything?” You nodded your head earnestly, still feeling the nervous panic tingling through out your body. 

“Untie her.” Mattheo snapped. Enzo and Blaise were the first to come out of the fascination in watching you and Mattheo, getting to work quickly on your ankles and wrists. Upon being freed from the binds you rubbed your wrists, slightly raw from the scratchy rope. You stared up at Mattheo, worry etched into your face. 

“Seeing as I’m the heir of Slytherin, I think I’ll see to your punishment. And if you take it like a good little lion, no one will ever know about this.”

Mattheo’s words only further plunged you into terror. Whatever he had planned for you, you already knew it would be unbearably painful for your mind, spirit and body. Still, trying to maintain your Gryffindor courage, you nodded in understanding. 

“From this moment on, I own you. If I ask you to come, you will, immediately. If I ask you to do something, you will do it, no questions asked and to my satisfaction. If at any point you defy me, every single shard will be on Dumbledore’s desk faster than you can say ‘Godric’, do you understand?”

Utter sorrow wracked your body, your freedom for as long as you were at this school was trapped in the hands of a vicious sadist. Merlin knows what he’d have you do, thinking on it alone filled you with remorse so deep it would echo into your bones long into the night. But this was the only option, expulsion meant no more Hogwarts, no contact with your friends, no future in magic. You somberly nodded, not able to verbally confirm without choking on the words. 

“No. Use your words, pet.” Your anger roared inside you at the title, how dare he reduce you this low? To strip you of your autonomy and independence and then demean you with such an inferior name. Your inner lion burned to disobey, to unleash the full extent of your temper on this arrogant, immoral devil of a man who goaded you with such humiliation. 

“Yes, I understand.” You bit out, not bothering to hide the venom in your tone. Mattheo almost preened at the bite in your voice, clearly amused by your fury. 

“Good, now get out before someone sees you. Meet me in the outside of the common room at precisely 7AM, not a second after.”

Your eyes glanced back at the other Slytherin boys who had been captivated by the whole interaction, your eyes begging for some kind of help that you knew you weren’t going to get.

You gathered your wand and sprinted out the door as fast as you could. You ran as far as you could away from the treacherous dungeons where you’d lost so much more than you gained. And when you finally made it to your dorm room, after your lungs burned and wheezed, you finally let yourself cry. Your wrath and despair melting together to cocoon you against the horrible truth: Mattheo Riddle owned you.

[seven-seas-of-rhye-bread]

A Fate Worse Than Death- Part 4

okayyyy we got a sad and angsty one here, be forewarned!

Warning: sad stuff, death, longing... angsty shit

Disclaimer: I am but a dumb bitch who knows nothing. Also this will be playing fast and loose with canon events going forward.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Weee, enjoy

xx

The fading sun cast shadows in the kitchen of Lucilla and Marcus's home as Aia bent low and carefully stoked the oven fires with more wood. It had been 3 days since Aia joined the household, and though she had been brought under the guise of a companion for Lucilla, she preferred to stay busy, especially helping the cook, Horatia, in the kitchen. 

Lucilla appeared in the doorway, looking beautiful as ever in a flowing stola, "Albina, may I borrow you for a moment?" 

Aia followed her out of the kitchen and down to the courtyard, where Marcus waited in a corner. Lucilla checked their surroundings, ensuring no other servants were around. "Aia, we'll need you to accompany us to the Colosseum tomorrow." Aia knew there were games arranged in honor of Marcus's conquests, but why would she need to go? She didn't find the appeal in watching men kill each other for sport. Yes, she was supposed to be a companion for Lucilla, but in the absence of Marcus, who would certainly be at the games with her. 

"Why would I need to go?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

 Lucilla and Marcus exchanged a look before he explained, "when Geta sold you to me, he made a stipulation that I would have to bring you to whatever games and celebrations I go to..."

"If he was happy to be rid of me, then why does he want me around?"

Marcus sighed in frustration, " he said that you have to come... in case-- as he said-- he wanted another... 'taste'"

Aia stood in stunned silence, feeling heat rise to her cheeks and embarrassment wash over her. 

"Oh." was all she could muster. 

Lucilla took Aia's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "we'll do anything to keep that from happening... and I think, at least for the games, he'll be too distracted by his blood lust to notice you." Aia nodded, resigned to the fact that she would have to face Geta again. She had only been with Lucilla and Marcus for a few days, but she  already trusted them-- trusted that they would protect her in every way they could. 

Later that evening, long after the household had gone to bed, Aia still laid awake in her small room, thinking about tomorrow. She hoped Lucilla was right, that Geta would be enthralled by the fighting, and it wasn't hard to imagine him being rapt by the games.

She got out of bed, putting on her simple robe and wandered out of her room. Aia had intended to get a drink of water, or perhaps something stronger, to help her sleep, but as she passed by the library, she saw firelight stretch from beneath the door across the tiled floor.

She peaked around the door out of curiosity and saw Marcus, browsing through scrolls that lined one of the shelves that covered the entire room. 

Aia was about to leave him be, but he had caught a glimpse of her and said, quietly, " you can come in..." 

She stepped into the room gingerly, closing the door behind her. She had caught a glimpse of the large library when she first came here, but never dared to venture in, though Lucilla never forbade her.

 "Do you know how to read?" Marcus inquired, leaning back against a shelf, facing her. 

She shook her head, " a little.. but not Latin.. I doubt I could read anything in here."

"Marcus Aurelius-- Lucilla's father- was an avid reader, and writer. Most of these books belonged to him. He wrote some, too."

"Was he any good?" she asked with a hint of cheek.

Marcus smiled, " yes, he was, actually. He wrote of a free, equal Rome."

"Ah, so even the Gauls would be treated with respect?"

"Even Gauls.." he confirmed with a wiry smile. 

Marcus observed Aia as she lightly touched a scroll, feeling the thin, fragile paper between her fingers, "Do you miss it? Gaul, I mean..." 

Aia stepped forward to him, still running her hands along the scrolls, liking the feel of them on her fingers-- she had so rarely touched parchment.

 She answered his question with her own, "don't you miss your home when you're off campaigning?" 

He nodded, " I do. I'm sorry you were taken, I'm sorry that you had to.." he cleared his throat, "endure Geta..." 

She burned at the memory, the helplessness she felt in the palace--how she wished for a swift death. 

"It's over now." Aia said singularly, all she cared to say about that situation, "and I have you to thank for that." 

She had still found it hard to comprehend that Marcus would do such a thing as asking Geta for her, after Aia had only spoken to him briefly that night. What Aia didn't know was that Marcus had been enamored by her beauty and her strength of will that night. The thought that Geta had had his way with her made him sick to his stomach. And the fact that Geta had hinted that he could want her again, made him even sicker, and more desperate to dethrone the twins. 

"And Lucilla..." Marcus added.

 "She's a great woman, isn't she?" 

Marcus nodded, "she's beloved by all of Rome, including me... but she's never been mine, really."

Aia tilted her head, confused by what Marcus had just said, "but you're married?"

"We are-- but her heart had always belonged to another. Ours is a marriage of convenience--we do love each other, but we are only companions." 

Aia wasn't sure what to say, she felt bad for Marcus-- a handsome man who seemed weary of war, to never be wed for love?

"Are you married?" he asked finally, after a moment of silence between them. 

"I am... or, I was. I don't know anymore. He was a good man, though I hadn't been with him long before..."

"Was?" Marcus asked, moving closer to her-- he wished he could ask her all about her life in Gaul, he would soak up every detail she gave him, hang on her every word.

 "I don't know if I'll ever see him again... " 

"I'm sorry, Albina, I shouldn't pry." 

Aia gave him a gentle smile, "it's alright.. I should get back to bed though, long day tomorrow..."

 She turned to leave, but Marcus caught her arm in his gentle but calloused grasp, "please know that I'd sooner kill Geta than let him have you again..." 

His grip was warm on her arm, his thumb gently caressing the soft, smooth skin. She looked at Marcus, her heart aching oddly and suddenly-- reminded of the love of her husband, and his willingness to protect her at all cost.

Aia gave him a small smile as his hand fell from her arm, " I know you would."  _____________

The next day was unbearably hot in Rome. The sun hung in the middle of the sky, beating down mercilessly, not a cloud in sight as Marcus, Lucilla and Aia made their way into the colosseum.

The stench of half of Rome crammed into one place was almost unbearable, Aia could understand why Lucilla chose to carry around lavender.

Aia felt sick with nerves as they made their way to the Emperors' cubiculum. She was reassured by Marcus's words last night, that he would kill Geta before he could ever get his hands on her again, but the thought of even seeing him made her stomach churn.

Aia hung back behind both Marcus and Lucilla as the emperors entered the Imperial box ahead of them. They were sickening gleeful, giddy as children to watch men be slaughtered for their entertainment.

As Lucilla and Marcus made their way to the box, Aia hesitated, her feet feeling heavy as led in the new sandals Lucilla had provided her. Lucilla noticed Aia's absence and grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs.

 She felt breathless as the arena and stands full of Romans came into view. She had never seen somewhere so grand in size, it was overwhelming. Sitting behind Lucilla's chair, she observied both the crowd and the emperors. As Geta invited a reluctant Marcus to address the people, Aia caught his eye. He gave her a wicked grin and nodded, to which she averted her gaze, looking down into her lap at her trembling hands. 

The games began in short order, with a raucous cheer from the stands as the gladiators entered the arena, followed by another gladiator atop a rhinoceros. 

Aia closed her eyes tight, not wanting to see the bloodshed, but she could unfortunately hear it loud and clear, along with the continued cheering. She prayed to the Gods that it would be over swiftly, but as she prayed she heard her name called by none other than Geta.

Her eyes sprang open to see him beckoning her. Marcus and Lucilla watched with concern as Aia made her way down to his throne, keeping her eyes on the floor.

Geta pulled her onto his knee and gave her a kiss, "don't close your eyes! You're missing all the glory! All the blood too!"

He grasped her face and turned it toward the arena, his fingers digging painfully into her cheeks. He watched her face, and shouted for her to look, keeping his eyes on her, making sure Aia was a witness to the carnage.

Her eyes filled with tears as she observed the bloody gravel and the mangled bodies strewn across the ground. She started to cry, and Geta yelled at her to keep her eyes open.

It was then, as she opened up her eyes again, that her eyes trained on a particular gladiator, she knew his face in an instant-- her husband's brother, Manus.

She gasped at the realization, but luckily Geta didn't note what she was gasping for, thinking it was at one gladiator decapitating another, ending the battle then and there. 

The crowd cheered once more, the final death bringing everyone to their feet, including the emperors.

Aia took this moment to move back towards Lucilla and Marcus while Geta was distracted. Marcus noticed the concerned look on Aia's face, still unbelieving of who she saw. 

"Whats wrong? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice lowering with anger. 

Aia shook her head, " I know one of the gladiators..." she turned to Lucillla, "please, is there any way I can go down there? Speak to him?" 

Marcus agreed to take Aia down to where the gladiators were taken, while Lucilla went home. She had noticed a change in demeanor with Lucilla, a sort of dazed look in her eyes, her face pale as if she had just seen a ghost. But right now Aia was focused on the ghost she had seen herself, and her heart beat wildly as they made their way down to the cells. 

"What is his name?" Marcus asked as they approached the gate. 

"Manus" she whispered. 

After Marcus talked to the guards, one of them led them down the dark and dingy way. She instinctively got closer to Marcus, finding a sense of safety in presence among the men as they made their way through the noisy and crowded halls that smelled of the copper tang of blood and sweat. 

"Manus!" the guard shouted towards a group of men who were removing their armor.

She saw him turn around, his face battered and bruised, blood trickling from a long cut above his eye-- but she was sure it was him. 

"Aia!" Manus shouted as he made his way over, his eyes wide in disbelief, "thank Gods you're alive! What are you doing here?"

Aia wasn't sure how to answer, "I work in a household here in Rome... when did you get captured?" 

Marcus stepped aside, but still in safe reach of Aia, not wanting to intrude on what was surely a personal conversation. 

"About a fortnight after you were taken... we went out after you."

"We?" Aia asked, her stomach in knots. 

"Me, Dago... some others too."

Her voice caught in her throat, " is he here? Was he killed?" 

She moved towards the crowd of gladiators, looking desperately at the faces. She hadn't even considered that Dago might be with Manus, and her heart wrenched to think he had been killed in front of her. 

Tears began to fall as she searched the crowd, but Manus pulled her back to the side. 

"Aia.." Manus said, taking her hands.  "What Manus... what? You tell me right now is he--" her voice faltered again, unable to say the last word. Manus remained silent, his eyes cast down. 

"You tell me now! Say it!" she shouted, drawing attention as she pushed Manus, a man of considerable size.  

He spoke finally, his voice full of sadness and regret, "He is dead, Aia-- he's dead." 

She leaned against Manus as she began to cry in earnest. Deep down, she felt that she had known already, that she had felt the shift in the world now that he was no longer a part of it. She also felt completely and utterly responsible for both Dago's death and Manus's capitivity. And, when she thought about it-- Manus' likely death in the colosseum. 

She felt a strong and reassuring arm around her, Marcus was holding her up, whispering in her ear that he was going to take her home.

She promised Manus that she would see him again-- hoping that perhaps Marcus and Lucilla would be able to free him with their impending plans. A carriage took them home in silence, a sense of  numbness settling over her.

Marcus hugged her to him but he did not offer any words of solace, for he knew that they would ring hollow, he said only, "I'm sorry," and left it at that. 

Tagging: @mmkkzz @galway-girlatwork @bridgertonbee1814 @quuinyoung @helsa3942

[cosmereplay]

for the kiss ask game. perhaps veil/moash #7 >:)

I will write a kiss… 7. …to shut them up.

I am so sorry I went totally off the rails of this prompt and accidentally wrote maybe the opposite??? Instead of kissing to shut up they're now fucking for information 😭 This pairing gave me the chance to write a scene from this Moash longfic I've been rotating for a long time, so thank you for that! Imagine Moash and Veil in Kholinar as part of separate groups infiltrating a lighteyes party for intel. 

Veil/Moash, rated Explicit, Oathbringer spoilers but not really because it's an AU anyway. 1000 words

Moash strode haughtily around the party, feeling vaguely disappointed. So far the best part of the night had been when Kaladin blushed when he’d seen Moash’s lighteyes-style outfit, all thin smooth fabric that complemented his light tan eyes. The party itself sucked. Being raised from bridgeman directly up to guarding at Elhokar’s parties had given him a skewed view of how other lighteyes partied. The space was cramped, full of furniture and people, and the ceilings were practically as low as in his own house downtown. The food was fine, not nearly as fancy as what Elhokar used to serve.

His chest cramped a little. He had to get that stupid man out of his head.

He was here for a reason, after all. At first he’d been a novelty to them, but once they’d realized he wasn’t in the duelling lists they’d lost interest in him before he could ask any questions. So he’d been skulking at the side of the room, keeping an ear open to catch scraps of useless conversations.

He looked over the crowd again. Moving smoothly among the clusters of lighteyes was a marvel of a woman. Beautiful, with long dark hair, partially braided with tiny emeralds, and a sleek havah that showed off what assets she had. She was not curvaceous by any means, but she was working everything she had, and he could appreciate that. Her eyes flashed a pale green as she scanned the room, listening and looking around. He touched his hair, hoping it was still looking okay in the increasingly hot and humid room, and moved towards her.

“Looking for more distinguished company, Brightness?” He smiled crookedly.

She looked him up and down for a long moment, then grinned back. “In that case, you should probably move aside.”

Moash raised his eyebrows. “I find it hard to believe you don’t like what you see.”

“I’m not here for what I can see, Brightlord,” she said, and the rude way she'd said Brightlord made him start. Was she…pretending to be lighteyed? He knew of the darkeyes drops, but was there a way the other way too?

Now he was doubly intrigued. “Are you here for information? Maybe we can do a little…exchange.” He glanced to the doorway and raised an eyebrow.

She gave him a long look, then sucked her teeth in a very un-ladylike way. Oh, he was liking her more and more. “Alright, handsome,” she said with a wink. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

He followed her out the door and down a hallway. She opened a random door and peeked inside, then beckoned him in. “C’mon. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

He grinned and went after her, into a cramped closet stuffed from floor to ceiling with shelves of seasonal knickknacks and decorations. She pulled him up against her, then pushed him back against some shelves, setting the knickknacks rattling.

“So…” she started, walking her fingertips up his chest. “What kind of exchange are you proposing?”

“Well no offense but you’re clearly not from around here,” he smirked, the touch stoking warmth between his legs. “I wanna know what’s going on out in Alethkar. Is King Dalinar making things better? Is he sending an army to liberate Kholinar?”

Her fingers stopped moving as he spoke. “You’re right, I’m not from around here,” she admitted. “I want to know what’s going on in Kholinar. What’s with the Queen? Why is the palace not admitting visitors? I heard the Kingkiller is in the city—Kaladin Stormblessed. Can you tell me where I can find him?” She eyed him appraisingly, then pressed closer against him. “I’ll tell you if you tell me. Might even do more, if you’re extra helpful.”

A groan left his body, along with his sense. “Alright,” Moash breathed. “Kholinar’s ready to explode into a revolution. The darkeyes are starting to starve and the lighteyes are hoarding food. The rumours are that the Queen has gone insane. I might be part of a group looking to help the revolution along.”

She rubbed her body against him. “Mmm, I might be interested in joining that group,” she murmured.

He put his hands on her back, sliding up to her shoulderblades, then down to her ass, giving it a squeeze. “I might just let you,” he murmured back. “There’s more to you. I know it. Now tell me about the King.”

The woman leaned up, her lips by Moash’s ear. “The King is dead.”

“I know Elhokar is dead.”

“I mean Dalinar. He died in battle when the Everstorm came. The Assassin in White got him. Renarin Kholin is King Regent now, and nobody's coming to save the people of Kholinar. You're on your own.”

The words almost killed his boner. “You’re here to rescure Gavinor, aren’t you? Are you going to take Aesudan too?”

“There might be some dissension in the ranks about whether we’re to take her out or take her out. I could use an ally, especially if he’s connected to the Kingkiller.” She grabbed his bulge, the warmth of her hand seeping through the thin fabric as she rubbed him back to full hardness.

“Storming…” The room was getting hot and he was having trouble thinking straight. He thrust against her hand, hardly noticing there wasn’t any fabric between them anymore. “You’re wrong. Stormblessed didn’t kill Elhokar. Fuck me and I’ll tell you who did.”

Within seconds, she’d turned around and lifted her skirts, and he was thrusting inside her, hot and wet and deep. She gasped, and for a second he could’ve sworn she was glowing.

Storms, was he imagining she was Kaladin? The thought didn’t stop him from pounding into her, getting off on the secrecy, the danger of getting caught, fucking a lighteyes bareback, the intrigue of this woman, the fact that he could finally say it—

“You know who killed King Elhokar?” he grunted as he fucked her against the shelves, setting the knickknacks shaking with every thrust.

“Tell me, tell me,” she moaned. She was fingering herself under her skirts, and she came hard, squeezing his cock with her body. He could hear the splashes of her cum on the floor.

He grabbed her by the back of her neck, holding her still, and thrust a few more times, long and slow, prolonging his orgasm the way he liked. “I killed Elhokar,” he moaned, and grabbed her hips, holding her flush against him as he came hard and deep into her. “Ah Heralds, that’s good, that’s so storming good.”

Moash and the spy held there together for a moment, both savouring the pleasure they’d managed to wring out of the night. Finally she pulled off him and started using her underskirts to soak up their cum, dripping down her thighs.

“Tell me your name and I’ll lick that up for you,” Moash said on impulse.

“My name is Veil,” she said with a smile, and lifted her skirts again, showing off the wet shine of her bush and lips. “Give me a little more and I might even tell you a secret.”

He squatted down, guided by her hand on his head, and he ate the cum from her thighs and lips, then moved upwards to her clit. He flicked and sucked, and she gasped, holding his hair tight. Storms, he could stay in this closet all night. She was a great lay.

Veil gripped him harder, trying to stop herself from screaming as she came dry, and smacked against the shelves, sending knickknacks tumbling down, smashing against the floor.

“Storms, woman,” Moash complained. They’re going to hear us.”

She pushed him off her, then yanked him upwards to standing. “What?” he asked, but he could already hear it. Shouts. The sound of swords clashing. They started straightening their clothes in a hurry.

“Beware, Kingkiller,” Veil warned. “Times are changing. The Radiants are returning, and they’re dangerous.”

They shared a look. “How do you know?” he asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“There are some in my party.”

“There are some in mine, too.” He started to open the door, then paused. “If you want to find me again, ask for where the silversmiths used to live. You’ll find it soon enough.”

Then he ran. If there was a fight, Kaladin was probably in the middle of it, and he would need Moash’s help.

From the I Will Write a Kiss ask game

[eaglesnick]

“No government that is for the profiteers can also be for the people, and I am for the people, while the government is for the profiteers.”— Rose Pastor Stokes

There is a cost of living crisis and it is not about to end anytime soon.

Food and non-alcoholic drink inflation reached a peak of 19.2% in October 2022. Although food and drink inflation is now much lower, it is never the less still rising, being 1.8% higher than a year ago. Today, the Uk  has the highest core inflation rate among the G7 countries as well as the highest level of food price inflation. A study by BravoVoucher predicts the cost of everyday food items will increase rapidly by 2030.

“This research provides a scary look into the future of food prices if current inflation trends continue. The dramatic increase we’ve seen in prices for everyday essentials like olive oil and baked beans is particularly concerning. It highlights the urgent need for effective economic policies to stabilize inflation and protect consumers.” (Social Equality: 22/07/24)

While food inflation is set to rage, super markets continue to make record profits. 

Asda reported  £1.1bn in profit for year ending 31st December 2023, a 24% increase on the previous year. Tesco reported raking in a massive £2.83bn in profit, a 12.7% increase on the year before. Simsbury’s is predicting profits of £1bn in 2024, and Waitrose has reported a 17% increase  in profits.

The lower end supermarkets are making even bigger profits. Lidl reported a quadrupling of profits for the year ending February 2022, and Aldi tripled their profits over the same period.

The point I am making is that while the cost of living crisis continues unabated the major supermarkets are busy increasing profits for their shareholders. There are many reasons the cost of food has increased, from global supply chain disruption, a rise in energy costs, to increased food production costs, but one that is never mentioned is the massive spike in supermarket profits.

Yesterday I talked about dynamic pricing – the practice of changing prices to match demand and supply – the most ridiculous example of this new form of greed being walking into a Stonegate pub at 8pm and being charged 20p more for a pint than if you had ordered the exact same drink a few hours earlier.

Tesco already use dynamic pricing for their online shopping platform, to allow:

“the company to optimise its pricing for maximum profitability” (The Strategy: Tesco Marketing Mix)

OK, so dynamic pricing is employed for Internet food sales. Most of us still prefer to go to the supermarket in person and “feel the goods” as it were. So we are safe from dynamic pricing. NOT SO!

More and more of British supermarkets are introducing dynamic pricing to the “in-store” experience in the form of electronic shelf-edge labels. (ESL’s)  Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Morrisons, Asda and M&S are all reported to be experimenting with ESL’s using Artificial Intelligence to generate algorithms to determine price minute by minute. Electronically displayed prices on the edge of shelving means prices can be changed minute by minute depending upon demand and supply.

Gone is the notion of value for money. The only thing that will matter  will be how much the customer is willing to pay for any particular item at any given particular moment in time, regardless of what it cost to produce.

If price is going to be determined by how much people are willing to pay, how long before we have the scenario of the  sole remaining can of baked beans on a Tesco shelf being sold not at its current price of  £1.40 per can but at £2.50 simply because one shopper has more money than another?

Profiteering has been described as:

“The practice of making or seeking to make excessive or unfair profit, especially illegally or in a black market”

Profiteering now has another definition: dynamic pricing.

[distant--shadow]

get to know meme

lil thing where I'll give a bit too much detail so it fills its purpose, honoured honestly to be tagged by three of my favourite writers in this space @sharkodactyl, @unicyclehippo , and @astoriacolumnstaircase - anyone reading this should be reading their works instead.

favourite colour: brown(s), like a mid to a dark tone, i like them to have a bit of red involved. like our old-boy chet, I love the wood. my dream home would be all wood-panelled with built in inlayed and set back shelves and nooks a plenty and yeah just full of brik-a-brak. otherwise my favourite colours are navy blue and greens that are more mixed with blue than yellow, teals and emeralds and once again generally around the mid tones. green makes me very happy. moss and outdoors and all that.

currently reading: fic. haha. (suss my recommend reading tag) I did venture out to my (very) local queer bookshop and asked them for something that won't send me on a spiral if I'm already on one/provide some escapism and they reccomended river of teeth by Sarah gailey. anyone I've said about it to seems real enthusiastic about it, I am not well read at all when it comes to published things, tend to just get really into a few fandom authors works and picking them apart (rereading a lot) . still haven't started it but maybe I'll try take it out to the park in the next week or so. I'm dabbling in reading (and unfortunately writing) poetry thanks to @picturesofthegoneworlds and @blorbotomy 's influence, those mini books are fun to keep on you when out and about, poem or two on a tree stump or boulder with a grand vista and a brain that wants eyes on a phone screen.

last song: last song I consciously (not background music) listened to was:

I went on an early lord snow stint the other night because the air smelt crisp and there was a nice chill. they have remained my favourite heavy (as a broad term) band for a decade now.

I used to have music on all of the time, whether that be cd's at home or in my mp3 player (that I still take out with me) but these days I find listening more of an intentional activity and I prefer to have people just nattering when I'm at home and want background noise. think it's where my heads at and I've just got more sensitive to being overstimulated I guess. I was also pretty good at going to a live gig at least once a week before I did my back in, looking forward to getting into that habit again.

last series: I don't watch much stuff outside of critical role, least other than YouTube videos I'll put on whislt I'm drawing. oh wait yeah I ordered 3 seasons of xena on ebay because it's like a couple of quid a season and it is a real good comfort show and fucking amazing. I hadn't seen it since I was pre teen and it was on day time TV and I'd catch it on sick days. the amount of people I've brought it up to these past few months who've been so stoked to be reminded of it/eager to watch it with me is actually hilarious.

last movie: uhhhh God movies I watch even less. I haven't been to a cinema in over 12 years now, just not my thing, and it's funny caus my mum used to work in the film and TV industry and we had shelves and shelves full of VHS growing up (mostly bootlegged) and she can just ramble about pretty much any early era film up to the stuff from the 80s (when she was working on em) for days. never could sit through em, never felt satisfied with how the story went. guess that's why actual play appeals to me. but saying all this I did rewatch Bound for the first time since I was like 15 last month or so, enjoyed it a lot more than I did back then.

sweet/savory/spicy: savory all day. I am a salt fiend. I used to think I'd be fortunate enough to die from my salt intake. I'll put it on anything. cereal, toast, fruit. I think the other day I noted the one thing I wouldn't put it on, but I can't recall that right now honestly. it's gotta be decent salt too, sea salt or rock salt that has some texture and delicious flavour, I'm not fucking with that table salt shit. I carry salt with me in a mini mason jar everywhere I go, saves when you only have access to bland cold supermarket food. one of my earliest memories is when I was like 6 I had had my daily 1 glass allowance of squash/fruit cordial in my white Tom and Jerry printed beaker with the accordion bendy straw and so when I was pouring myself a glass of water from the tap I put salt in it caus I wanted flavour that would not show through the white translucent container. it's all been downhill from there, although I also, luckily I guess caus otherwise I would be really fucked, do drink a lot of water.

currently working on: myself and healing. hah. I never realised how much paperwork and phone calls came with this maintenance shit. I'm still out of work, and my mental health has taken a huge hit from not being able to do the things I usually would. so right now I'm just trying to keep everything together. I can draw again though, so sorry about that.

I never know who to tag in these things caus I don't think everyone wants to do them. so I'll go with this being open invite as always. hope anyone who read this far is having a good week, and sentiment is still there even if you didn't read this (unless you don't deserve my well wishes, then fuck you.)

[questionablepastries]

Vaguely funny dream I want memorialized as a tumblr post but also one that I think that doubles as a highly spiritual event in which i was gifted some mystical item which makes it even funnier in retrospect:

The dream starts with the context of me winning some sort of Nintendo sweepstakes with a free flight to japan to claim Any game I want from their main Nintendo store, which I am super stoked about. The next sequence of events is me already at the japan Nintendo headquarters store place and I’m getting ready to pick out a sweet ass game

And here’s when the divine interference begins

I think whatever entity was trying to make contact with me got what I wanted correct, I would in fact love to win a flight to Japan to visit their headquarters store and pick out a game yes

But then they were like. Ok what do humans like. Gold right? I think it’s gold.

So I’m at the “store” but……

First off there’s fog everywhere, from the ground up to about waist height. you can’t see more than 20ft in front of you because of all the damn fog, second the aisles are never ending in terms of length and number of aisles. Third, everything has this weird golden glow to it, the overhead lights are white and bright as hell, all the shelves are golden. So basically you got the concept of “store” semi correct.

But in my head none of that even fucking registered. I thought I was still at a normal ass store. I was so dead set on getting. A goddamn game I ignored the dimensional paradox of a store I was in.

And so I’m like eager to check out the shelves and see what games I get to pick and.

They’re all donkey Kong 64 for the Nintendo 64

All of them. Not only that but they’re some sort of premium exclusive to the store golden edition. Nothing but this golden donkey Kong 64 IVE NEVER PLAYED A DONKEY KONG GAME IN MY LIFE, I DIDNT EVEN OWN THE CONSOLE, it was just endless shelves of exclusive golden donkey Kong 64!!!!!!!! I was like so distraught and dissapointed over this u have no idea

anyways ANYWAYS, this is where it gets weird I think I get my copy of a game and then this jumpscare ass glowy hoe is like right in front of me and they’re also a glowing being that radiates light but surprisingly my eyes didn’t burn out I could just tell there was someone in front of me, and they’re also trying to put a necklace on me so I just let them, and as they’re doing that I notice the necklace they put on me was a hamsa necklace (thumb facing left with giant diamond in the center eyeball; didn’t understand the importance of the symbol till I fully looked into it). Honestly it was severely intricate and looked like it was made out of silver. Cant get over how shiny the eye diamond was, and that’s when the dream ended

So basically I attribute all my crazy gacha pulls to that necklace but also I guess I’m particularly blessed by the amount of fuckery that doesn’t happen to me or my small immediate family so maybe that’s also due to some sort of protection idk idk I guess I’m permanently wearing this sweet hamsa necklace in my dreams or something

[godteri-takk]

WWOOOWWWWWW THEY ARE SOO PRETTYYYY OMGGG seriously one of the best lines so far and ESPECIALLY for Frankie, but ill do em all in order.

I think Cleo is the only kinda bad one here, i personally hate the way her hair looks and the makeup is not doing it for me. and what is that silluette??? would she really wear a rounded metal corset (idk what those plastic ornaments/skirts are called so ill call em metal skirts) and the cyan shawl like that?? it just looks so weird and bad. but i love the asseccories o her head, the shoes are so slay and the sleeves w the black bandages are SO chic i love it. but ye i often feel like they dont know what to do w Cleo, it's very hit or miss.

Draculaura looks perfect, it seems the designers know exactly her colour palette and fashion sense cus Drac ALWAYS looks good and this is one of the better ones, like oooommggg it just. is perfect. the metal thing the skirt the pink shaed her hair the makeup the balloon, shoes couldve been better but they are gooooddddddd <<3

I. am SO stoked about this Frankie, one of the best Frankies ive SEEN in g3 like DAAMNN!??? my fave in this line, wish i could buy them but they'll never hit the shelves here lol. LOVE the colour palette of monocrome, blue and pink (plus some silly colours on the skirt) goooshhh its so balanced and perfect, i often dont like it when they give them pink blush but it works ok here, and everything else is so good so it doesnt matter. i LOVE the asymetrical look they went for!!! different length on earrings, shaved side and diagonal hairlock and that gorg headpiece AOIJDIHJ one sleeve (w poofy shoulder, LOVE IT) and one pink glove on the other, asymatrical metal skirt as well and THE PINK LEG?? soo sleek, it's chic it's sexy it's playful in a cool controlled way it looks perfect w their blue skin and cyan shoes THE SHOES ARE SO PRETTYYY and the lipstic w light blue tips and dark blue middle!!!=???? GEEENIOUSSS!!!! it bears repeating, the blue shaved side of head is .. just brilliant. obsessed w this Frankie. the designers COOKED w this

I dont have any attatchment to Cupid as a character I dont think ive seen any of the movies shes in or anyyything. but! really like her design here. the curls and hair n headpeace and lil heart on the lips and like collour pallette in general is soo nice and playful and kinda gorg like it's giving rokokko. it's sweet and cutsy and over-the-top and i love the bracelet w the lil arrow <<3 so yea very happy about this line, too bad ill never see them irl but hoping for youtube unboxing/review vids soon ^w^

Monster High Scary Sweet Birthday

Cleo, Draculaura, Frankie, & C.A. Cupid

[fiendishthingee]

Without a library, I wouldn’t be half the person I am. That may sound overly dramatic, but it’s a simple fact. So many of the things that people take for granted today, whether it’s the internet, streaming services, cell phones or even a home computer, really didn’t exist when I was growing up. If your mind needed liberation from the cage that locked in your imagination, the key came in a nondescript laminate card that found its way into your pocket care of thoughtful parents. As you got older and might need to write a paper, you were either at the mercy of whatever encyclopedia collection your house had or hunted the shelves of your local library. For me the need for both drew me in over and over again, until the joy of discovery took over and set me on a path that I’ve never strayed from.

It was in the Cayucos library, tucked in a corner off the pier that drew tourists in the summer, that I found a book called The World of Fantastic Films: An Illustrated Survey. Hooked by the cover of a spacecraft flying over a suburban neighborhood, it was in its pages that I learned about not just who was responsible for films that had already captivated me (Hitchcock, Spielberg, Lucas), but lit the fuse of my obsession with the work of more artists (Kubrick, Cronenberg, Scott, Carpenter) I’d have never otherwise known about. My creative world exploded immediately, a mental big bang that later grew on finding those magic rectangles called “videotapes” as they appeared on library shelves. It was in those same aisles, soon joined by more at Cayucos Elementary, that I fell in love with writing itself. What began with the usual curriculum of Jack London, Harper Lee, S.E. Hinton, and Ray Bradbury soon pivoted into the more challenging realm of J.R.R. Tolkien, George Orwell, William Golding, and J.D. Salinger. It was also there that I saw a book with the cover of a ghostly face offset by a single drop of vivid red blood on its lips called Salem’s Lot. By the time I got to when Charlie Rhodes awakens at midnight to the sound of someone blowing the horn of his school bus and discovers that it is loaded with bloodthirsty children, I was a goner for a certain bespectacled weirdo from Maine.

Which is why the news of certain states attempting to circumvent the will of their sane population by closing libraries altogether rather that restock books deemed dangerous by a delusional zealot minority both breaks my heart and makes me incredibly angry. To rob both children and adults of the most basic form of both entertainment and knowledge is to starve them of everything that is remarkable about human culture. Libraries are one of the most vital conduits to that we have, with hundreds of years of accumulated wisdom and inspiration in books just waiting for a curious mind to crack them open and find something that speaks to their heart and mind.

Culture wars are always incredibly stupid, as they usually serve only to point out how myopic and bigoted one side (guess which) is. But as certain factions, who can’t seem to deal with the natural evolution of our society in the same blunt fashion that a caveman recoiled from fire before learning to harness it, push harder and harder to wipe out anything that would threaten a repressed white pseudo-Christian narrative, the stakes have risen to a terrifying level. These are people who are fine with the lives of our country’s children being devastated by constant gun violence but draw a line at offering those who may still be alive the chance to broaden their mind and make up their own minds about what will make for a better life. Fueled by crackpot conspiracy theories and stoked by the fulminating opportunism of right-wing media, they threaten both library staff and patrons with violence if they continue to support inclusiveness rather than fortify division. They turn up at city council meetings to spout shrill nonsense and attempt to bully their way into what they feel is some half assed “moral” victory but is really just a bunch of paranoid psycho bullshit. Even though I don’t yet have any kids, this kind of kneejerk suppression makes me sick to my stomach and cannot be allowed to gain more of a foothold in this country than it already has.

[clairehoneybee]

Mid-Atlantic Nursery Trade Show - 2025

Fresh off the MANTS (Mid-Atlantic Nursery Trade Show) floor in snow-covered Baltimore, I made lots of fresh contacts and found many exciting plant introductions that I want to use in my future landscaping projects. I am stoked for the 2025 gardening year and the new plants and ideas that are hitting the nursery and garden center shelves. It was so refreshing to enter from the frigid weather…

[loregoddess]

2, 5, 8, and 20 for the fandom ask game?

2. a headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like! This one's a hard one bc most of the time if I come across a headcanon that doesn't float my goats I just move on and don't give it much thought (it's clearly floating someone else's goats so no need to punch holes in it, we don't need any drowning goats), and then if the headcanon happens to haunt me anyhow I just kinda adopt it w/out too much fuss bc the person who wrote it was clearly on to something I didn't at first realize, but hmmm....

I guess at least for theories specifically, I remember coming across the "Majora's Mask might be a Twili artifact" theory on some forum like, a hundred million years ago, and I shelved the theory in my head almost immediately bc I was more into the idea that Termina was an actual alternate world in the LoZ universe bc alternate worlds are an established canon thing that Just Happens Sometimes. But when Hyrule Encyclopedia dropped the "actually Termina IS a world created by Majora's Mask that reflects the psyche of the wearer" I was like, okay wait hold up, that theory about Majora's Mask being a Twili artifact suddenly seems so, so much more plausible now, and I can explore that theory in a lot more depth for further theories about the Twili and the properties of Majora's Mask, and I've been happily rotating those theories in my head ever since (I know a lot of fans were really upset w/ the Encyclopedia making Termina a dream world canon, but man I was so stoked for it bc of that one little theory I had seen and dismissed so many years earlier).

5. something you see in fics a lot and love Alas I don't...read fics that often and wish to one day remedy that (I need to rediscover my general love of reading first, but I'll get there eventually), but from the fics I have read...I guess I really like seeing characters get to heal? Like, mostly I'm really into video games so I end up seeking out fanart/writing about the characters I love from games, and most of the games I enjoy understandably don't usually get into the "how do the characters deal with or recover from [insert traumatic event from game's story]" which like, fair, you can only do so much in the frame and limits of a game, I get it. But as a result when an author is like, "Actually hold up, we need to talk about this character and what happened to them a bit more" and like, it's an honest-to-goodness deep-dive into healing as a narrative in it's own right, I dunno, I just think that's really neat. I don't feel like I'm really good at writing that specific type of narrative either, which is part of why I respect writers who can/do write it so much.

8. you hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc) Probably like, "I'd live for you" as a trope/theme if that makes sense? Like, don't get me wrong I get the appeal of "I'd die for you" in stories, but I think there's a lot of potential power in "life can be hell, but you make me want to live, you've given me hope in life, and I am going to live"

(usual internet disclaimer: yes I know both these tropes/themes can be used for super unhealthy codependent relationships, no I'm not trying to advocate for making such types of relationships some sort of golden standard that we all should strive for, yes there is a way to write both of these and have the relationship still be healthy and stuff; I bring up "I'd live for you" bc "I'd die for you" stays dangerously close to the same territory as jokes about wanting to die arise as a form of suicidal ideation and--like replacing "die" in those types of jokes with something else can help improve overall mental health--I wonder if shifting "I'd die for you" to "I'd live for you" would have similar effects, but I'm no psychologist, this has been a disclaimer)

20. your very first fandom! Hmm, depends on how we're defining things. If it's just "being a fan of things and making up stuff about it w/ at least one other person" then probably Scooby-Doo? Me and my brother grew up watching the cartoons/movies and also had some dolls of the Mystery Gang when we were kids, and we used to make up some wild narrative-driven games making up our own monsters and mysteries for them to solve (unsurprisingly we're both storytellers of some sort as adults). But if we're defining "fandom" as more like, an actual community, then it'd be Legend of Zelda, since that's the first thing I ever made like, legit fanart for that I shared with others online.

[parasite-core]

So I’m still unpacking from my move but I am super stoked about my closet because I have shelves where I can put things I like instead of them being crammed on cluttered desks or stuffed into bags to never see the light of day. So check out what I’ve got so far. I have a Vox Machina shelf, a Mighty Nein Corner, a misc figures/Bionicles shelf, a staging ground for my medium sized minis, and a dragon corner.

Some of it’s still not totally organized yet, I’m not totally happy with the placement of the random transformers, they’ll probably get moved up to the misc figures shelf. But it’s still leagues better than it was at the old house.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

from eden (a witch!harry au): teaser

“Rowan, hi,” Harry smiles easily at her as he shuts the journal, looping the leather tie around the bindings with practiced ease. “Right on time.”

“For once in my life,” Rowan jokes in an attempt to hide her nerves. She slips her hands into the pockets of the worn trench coat she’d found at an estate sale the previous year, trying to curb her habit of twisting her rings around her fingers when she’s nervous. “Sorry, am I interrupting your work?”

Tucking the leather bound journal underneath the counter in one smooth motion, Harry shakes his head. “No, not at all. It’s been a fairly slow afternoon. Not much to interrupt.”

“Really? No stray cats have run into your shop today?”

The small laugh that falls from Harry’s lips is light and easy, and lodges itself somewhere deep within Rowan’s chest in a way she doesn’t quite understand. “No, but the day is still young.”

Harry steps out from behind the counter, and for the first time, Rowan notices that his outfit is devoid of the hunter apron he’d worn the day before. Instead, Harry is dressed in a chunky knit chestnut coloured sweater with green detailing around the cuffs and hem. His pants are olive toned, baggy in their fit, and pool just above his black vans. He looks comfy. Cozy, Rowan thinks. Like he could laze back on a couch in the evening, his hands a bit sooty from stoking the fire, but that doesn’t matter, because he’ll laugh and try to swipe a charcoal covered finger over her cheek, and leave fingerprints along her skin when he—

“So you said you live upstairs?” Rowan’s voice is breathless when she pulls herself from her daydream, and she fidgets with the tiger’s eye around her neck in an attempt to calm herself with the familiar motion.

“Uh, yeah, I do. I—sorry, is that…” Harry’s gaze drops from her eyes to her fingers, watching as she twists the pendant up and down the old chain. “Is that tiger’s eye?”

Rowan glances down at the pendant caught between her fingers. The honey-streaked stone is cut in the shape of an oval and set into a metal backing, worn smooth from two generations of Frances women habitually rubbing it. It’s pretty, to be sure, but it’s never drawn anyone’s attention so quickly. But then again, Rowan’s sure the stone is stocked on the shelves behind her; it’s no wonder Harry’s noticed it.

“It is, yeah. My mom gave it to me,” Rowan says, letting the pendant fall back against her navy turtleneck. Technically, her mother didn’t give it to her. In all actuality, Rowan had claimed it after her mother passed away five years ago. However, now didn’t seem the time to dump all her mommy issues onto a virtual stranger, no matter how familiar he felt. The death of your only parental figure is more of a second date conversation, she thinks.

Not that they’ve had a first date. This is tea. She’s just here to try tea that Harry’s made. This rendezvous probably falls more under the category of a sales pitch than a date, and Rowan’s not sure why that fact makes her stomach churn in discontent, but she’s determined to ignore it.

“It’s lovely,” Harry says, seemingly unaware of the debate that’s playing out in Rowan’s mind. “May I?”

He reaches his right hand towards her, and Rowan’s eyes once again focus on the strange symbol inked into his smooth skin. A shiver runs up her spine as the uncomfortably familiar feeling of deja vu settles over her. His words are identical to yesterday, when he offered her a sample of the protection balm he made. But underneath that memory, there’s something else, something that settles at the very edge of her mind’s eye, just out of reach of clarity. That same phrase— “May I?”— echoed in a lilting British accent, a flash of a ringed, tattooed hand tugging at blush coloured sheets, the dangle of her tiger’s eye pendant over a flushed chest that’s inked with tattoos she can’t quite place…

The hand in front of her pauses, and its owner’s eyes find her own. Harry flicks his eyebrows up as if to repeat his question, and Rowan realizes he’s waiting for her to give him permission to examine her necklace.

COMING FRIDAY, JANUARY 20TH @ 5PM PST/8PM EST